Chapter 4

“Do you have a question you’d like answered?” I asked, kind of half hoping he did so I didn’t have to guess the topic, while the other half of me hoped he didn’t so I didn’t get an impossible question to completely bullshit.

His eyes zeroed in on me, and he was quick to put his face back behind his professional mask, giving me a small smile, and shaking his head. “No, please do any kind of reading you find appropriate.”

I smiled back at him and gave a single nod. I took another deep breath trying to make sure I was completely centered and ready to spewl nonsensce that could make sense and not to just anyone but to Headmaster Brightwen.

“Please tell us something that Headmaster Brightwen needs to hear,” I said again, commanding the flames that were devouring the cotton candle wicks and heating the wax beneath them.

I let my eyes fall into the flame of the middle black candle, letting my mind open to speak anything that came to mind. I knew Headmaster Brightwen was the Liege of Light and had a kind of grudge against President Russling, who was the Liege of Darkness. There were many rumors, but I never truly cared about them.

When the candle wick started to curl slightly in the flame, giving the top of the wick a hunched-over person shape, I began to talk.

“I see a man. Hunched over something.” I said, forcing an airy tone into my voice as if my mind were far away.

The flame danced, and the edges became sharp.

“He is sitting at a desk, an important desk. He was a professional who used it daily, like a professor, lawyer, or politician.” As I said, politician, I sat back slightly. “That’s right. He is in politics. Maybe a senator?” I paused for dramatic effect and made myself lean forward to make it look like I was interested in what I was seeing, then frowning my eyebrows like I was trying to see what I was seeing even meant.

If only he knew.

“No, not a senator,” I mumbled, fully knowing he was hanging on my words because I could feel his gaze drilling into me.

“Oh! It’s President Russling. I can see the seal behind him now,” I said, relaxing my body slightly, shifting to cross my legs, and holding on to the knee that was on top.

“He is looking intently at something, but it’s not paper,” I said, my voice coming strongly at first but letting my sentence trail off.

As I tilted my head to the side, I got a whiff of Professor Ludwig’s old books, which were right behind her desk.

“It’s a book! A thick dome. The pages are dark and stained slightly like this book has been well loved and been around for a long time.”

I could hear the headmaster’s breath hitch.

Thinkthinkthink…

How could I sell this vision? Why would it connect itself to the Headmaster? What could President Russling be reading that would make the Headmaster worried?

Maybe it is a topic about something illegal?

No.

The flame curled around the hunched wick, and the bulbous top fell into the wax.

Something that was dear to the Headmaster?

But what?

Why did I say it’s a fucking book and not something like a law he was going veto? That would have been so much easier to guess. I hated myself sometimes. Why do I always have to make everything so complicated?

The wax on the left side of the candle spills over slightly, letting a trail of wax down the side of the candle before cooling halfway down. The white candles were burning cleanly with no wax spillage.

“He closed the book.”

The blue parts of the flame grew slightly as the flame danced, spiking in intensity every so often.

Fuck, well, I couldn’t go back now; what would be dear to the Headmaster? What would make him believe me while also concerning him just enough that I would get full marks without him thinking I was a legitimate seer?

I almost snorted. A dark core, a seer? I just needed him to think I knew what I was doing.

You know what? Maybe saying something ridiculous was just what I needed. Obviously, he can’t deny that the President doesn’t read books, but I could have misinterpreted what exactly he was reading.

“The book has a circle and a golden sun-like symbol inside of it. The gold was also rubbed off in some areas.”

What else?

The flame grew huge and fluttered. I leaned back in surprise. The fire I called forth for this reading was definitely a paid actor.

“He leaned back, looking smug, like he knew something that everyone else didn’t. Or the book answered a question he had been desperate to know for a while. He reached into a drawer in his desk and pulled out a key, a skeleton key?” I asked slightly.

The flame fanned forward toward me and did a mock wave, making me almost giggle, but I caught it in time, not wanting to interrupt the intensity the reading brought.

“Oh! There is a box with skulls on it. It’s a very pretty box. It must be made of solid wood.”

The flame stilled for a second before dancing high. Ah, perfect for my finale.

“He uses the skeleton key to open the box. The box has a,” I pause and gasp for dramatics. “It’s a skull! I human skull! He took a knife that was also in the box to mark the forehead in between the eye sockets.” A skull wasn’t too out there, especially since President Russling was a dark core, and necromancy comes with the package.

I leaned in slightly to make it look like I was looking at something far away and squinted my eyes. But really, I was looking at the Headmaster on the other side of the desk. He was leaning completely in, fully abandoning the illusion he wasn’t interested. With him leaning in the Liege of Light, a faint tattoo on his hand was on full display to me, and the cuff of his shirt was pushed back slightly to show a tattoo I’d never seen in person before; it was of a marigold in full color. I had to hide my smirk, knowing my entire face was under constant surveillance from him as he was listening to every single thing I said.

Hook.

“It looks like a flower?”

His hands were brought up to the desk, and he was pressing them so hard to the wood that his fingertips were white.

Line.

“It’s a marigold?” I asked, acting confused.

The flame danced high in the air in the air catching my eye.

“He’s placing a jewel in one of the eye sockets now, it looks like a kind of quartz.”

And.

“He’s picking up the skull and peering in -“ I didn’t get even a second to finish the sentence before the Headmaster was blowing out the candles and quickly gathering them off the desk, not even caring for the heat from the hot wax.

Sinker.

I knew exactly what I was describing. I found a version of this exact spell in the small library in the dark core’s common room. It was in an old book that the spine was practically falling apart, and the wording to describe people and things was entirely outdated and offensive. But the actual teachings were sound. I copied the spells and threw the book in a lit fireplace so no one would find it and use the words used in the book. Fuck racists.

The spell was a dark necromantic spell that allows you to see through the eyes of someone you are connecting with. When I described Headmaster Brightwen’s tattoo, I was hoping it would be enough identification to reference him, and it looks like I was right.

I jumped back in shock, the heat from the fire element brushing up my fingertips, crawling up my arm, and then settling into my chest, giving me a terrible heartburn sensation. It was super uncomfortable, but I dramatized the pain by clutching my chest and gasping loudly.

“I’m sorry, my dear. That was an incredible reading. I will definitely pass this along to Professor Ludwig,” he said with another forced smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“You are free to go back to your exam. Thank you.”

I love Divination. Easiest class ever.