I spend most of my time in the study room just thinking. Calculating. Considering politics. Realising just how much work I have to do. Not to mention the wardwork curriculum Edward is putting together for me, and the fact classes aren’t likely to let up because of everything else I have to do.

  Edward is working on Spells. He’s determined to cover the entire term’s syllabus before the term even starts, just so Felicity can’t catch him out again. It’s a little scary how petty he can be when given cause.

  I gradually put together a list of ideas, of people to research and places to do that research, and try not to think about how much time it’s actually going to take. Or what could go wrong. And so the afternoon passes.

  At precisely six after noon, Edward snaps his textbook shut and announces that it’s time for dinner. It’s a lot busier than it was at lunchtime, though we get there quickly enough that we don’t have to queue. I guess a lot of people have arrived back over the course of the afternoon.

  Among them is Elizabeth, who joins Edward and me in our usual corner. I almost want to tell her to go and sit with Robin instead, because Robin is sitting alone and staring at the wall. But I don’t feel like I can say that in front of Edward.

  So instead we compare stories of how our holidays and Holy Days have been. I wrote to Elizabeth only a week ago, so I don’t have that much more to say, but I tell her about my grandmother and the dress she made me. And then I remember that she spent Holy Days alone, that she doesn’t have family left, and realise that I must be hurting her.

  She doesn’t show it, though, if she is hurt. She just says she’s happy for me, and tells me about the volunteering she did and the new friends she’s apparently made. “I didn’t tell them I was Malaina, though. I’m not sure how many of them would still be my friends if they knew.”

  I grimace. I’m not either. I can’t blame her. “What about you, Edward?”

  He shrugs and says something about cinnamon bites.

  I keep hoping that Elsie will appear. She doesn’t. I’ll have to find her tomorrow – I’ll see her in classes, definitely. Unless something has happened to her.

  Stars, tell me nothing has happened to her.

  After dinner, I take a trip to the library. Edward tags along, mostly because Rosie is on duty and he wants to catch up with his cousin. She was at the Feast of Stars, and he’s curious about how awful a time she had and what he has to look forward to next year.

  I let them talk and scurry away into the library. It’s been a while since I last encountered hyperspace, and I’d almost forgotten it. The reminder is not a pleasant one. But after a few tentative steps don’t cause me to plummet into nothingness, I’m able to walk somewhat normally again.

  It’s just a matter of not immediately running to the history section, because I need books on wardwork and books on political theory and whatever this library has on current political figures. Besides, Georgiana’s diary is going to keep me busy for a while, as far as history reading goes.

  I emerge with an armful of books and a mental list of books to find that doesn’t feel much shorter than the one I went in with. It’s still progress, I tell myself firmly.

  “Political theory?” Rosie asks as she sees my books. “Interesting.”

  “Hopefully,” I reply. I don’t really want to have to explain why I’m researching it.

  She jots down the titles of my books and when they’ll be due back in her ledger, continuing her conversation with Edward as she does so. Apparently she got special permission to leave the Feast of Stars for an hour each day to check the experiments she’s running in the library’s hyperspace. Edward is a little jealous of her for that, and is trying to persuade her to hire him as a research student so he can do the same next year.

  “I am a research student. I don’t think I get to have my own students. And most people who do would probably want you to have a few more formal qualifications.”

  Edward sighs. “No escape for me, then.”

  “You can’t hide forever,” Rosie says, but not unsympathetically.

  “I know…”

  “Those are all done,” she says to me, sliding the stack of books back across her desk towards me. I pick them up, somewhat awkwardly. There aren’t quite enough that I need levitation-spells to handle them all, but the pile feels distinctly unstable without a free hand to hold the top book in place.

  “Thanks. I should probably take them back to my dorm before I drop them everywhere.” I glance at Edward.

  “I can help you?” he offers.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.”

  “In which case I might stay here with Rosie for a bit longer. If that’s okay?”

  “Believe it or not, I can survive without your company.”

  He laughs. “See you later then.”

  Lucy and Aisha are in the dorm when I get back, busily unpacking. We exchange greetings and how-were-your-Holy-Days. They get an even more condensed and edited version than Elizabeth did. They both enjoyed their own holidays, which sound practically idyllic in the lack of political drama or family dysfunction. Then again, perhaps I’m only getting their heavily edited versions.

  I ask them whether they’ve seen Elsie. Neither of them have, but then they don’t know Elsie as well as I do.

  “She’s probably not back yet,” Aisha suggests. “Hannah isn’t, either.”

  “If we see her, we’ll tell her you were looking for her.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Some light bedtime reading there?” Lucy laughs, gesturing to the books I’m fitting into my trunk.

  “Something like that,” I reply, trying not to seem too worried. The books Edward sent me are there, perfectly visible. But no-one would be able to tell what they were just from looking at the covers. And I don’t think anyone here would be the type to snoop through my reading material.

  That is slightly ironic, considering I’m sharing with someone who tried to spy on my best friend. But – I don’t think Robin would do something like that. Not now.

  I still need to learn enough wardwork to make sure no-one else can open my trunk.

  “Say, aren’t you sixteen now?” asks Lucy.

  “I am,” I say, a little confused. “Why?”

  “A few of us were thinking of getting a drink or two to celebrate the new year. Would you like to join us?”

  “Classes start at nine after midnight tomorrow. I don’t want to miss the first lesson of the year with a hangover.”

  “You can’t get a hangover from just one drink,” Aisha points out. “And we will stop at one. Won’t we, Lucy?”

  That’s definitely a pointed question. “Yes, of course,” Lucy says.

  I consider it. I don’t really know most of my classmates that well. Maybe they just want me along so they can get the latest edition of Blackthorn gossip. Or they’re just doing it for the sake of politeness.

  But I don’t think Aisha and Lucy are like that. They’ve seen me at some pretty low points, and still been supportive and friendly. They haven’t mined me for gossip before. And maybe it is worth getting to know people better. On the other hand, I’m not sure the alcohol part appeals that much… then I have an idea.

  “All right. On one condition. Robin is invited too.”

  I can’t quite read their reaction, but it’s not either of course, she’s already coming anyway or why in stars’ names would we want her to come along?

  “We can ask her,” Aisha says, “but I doubt she’ll agree.”

  “She never wanted to come to anything we arranged before,” Lucy adds. “That’s why we stopped trying to invite her.”

  “I think she’d come, if you asked her now,” I say.

  “I don’t.”

  “I think,” says Robin’s voice from behind the closed curtains of her bed, “Robin can hear every word you say and doesn’t like being talked about as if she wasn’t there.” Robin jerks the curtains open sharply to reveal herself curled into a ball at the end of her bed.

  “I didn’t know you were – “

  “Besides, you’re only saying that because you feel sorry for me. Don’t.”

  She’s… not entirely wrong there. But not entirely right either. “I’m saying it because I thought you might enjoy coming out for the evening. If you don’t, then fair enough. But I’d enjoy your company.” I mean that. Partly because I suspect she’ll be less inclined to breaking the one-drink arrangement than others, and I’d like to not be alone in wanting to stick to it. But partly because… well. I do actually like her.

  “All right,” she says sharply. “I’ll come, if you promise never to invite me to anything out of pity again. And if I’m not having a good time, I’ll just leave.”

  I don’t bother to protest that I’m not inviting her out of pity. Best not to push my luck. “Deal. Well – if you two are okay with it?”

  “Of course.”

  “Sure.”

  “We’ll be leaving around eight, if you want to change first.”

  Right. It’s not normal to go out drinking in dust-stained, utterly plain travel clothes, is it? But I don’t exactly have a whole range of fancy dresses to go out in – well, actually, I do have one dress. And I was thinking that I’d be lacking in occasions to wear it. So why not?

  It’s only just gone seven, though, so there’s plenty of time before I need to worry about changing. I should find Edward, let him know that I’ll be gone for the evening – ah. He is not going to like this. Leaving the safety of the Academy’s wards, getting drunk – well, lightly tipsy at best, I expect – and with Robin as well? That’s reckless of me.

  But it’s the kind of reckless I think I’ll need occasionally. I can’t stay cooped up in the Academy not talking to people other than Edward forever. I won’t be able to do everything I need to do if I don’t also take time to live.

  Maybe I should invite him along, too. But I’m confident he’d refuse, and I’m confident that if he didn’t Lucy and Aisha wouldn’t be all that happy with me. His company is… an acquired taste, for a lot of people.

  Edward isn’t as unhappy as I thought. Or at least, he doesn’t show it. “Fair enough,” is all he says. “I hope you have a good time.”

  I didn’t mention Robin to him, and I feel a little guilty about that, but I’m not lying to him. Just… leaving out a few details. And besides, I know him well enough by now that I can tell when he’s a lot more upset than he’s letting on. This is one of those times. It’s tricky, dealing with the balance of not wanting to upset him and not wanting to miss out on things just to soothe his feelings.

  “Thanks,” I say. “I’ll let you know how it goes. Unless you want to join in?” I decided earlier I wouldn’t invite him, but it just feels wrong not to.

  He laughs. “Tallulah, have you met me?”

  “…I’ll take that as a no, then.”

  “Why would I want to?”

  “…because you want to get to know your classmates?”

  “Well, I don’t,” he says flatly. There isn’t much I can say in reply, even if I wasn’t worried about accidentally talking him into joining us and then having to keep the peace between him and Robin all evening.

  I ask him something about how his magical theory studies are going just to change the subject, and do my best to pretend I understand the extreme level of technical detail in his response. That fills the time until I decide it’s close enough to eight that I should go back to the dormitory and change. “Hope you have a good evening,” I say.

  “Thanks. You too.”

  I can’t read his tone. It could be bitterly sarcastic, or it could be feeling obliged to say it but not to fake enthusiasm, or it could be just that he’s already distracted with thoughts of magic. Regardless, I decide not to spend too long analysing it, and wander back to my dorm alone.