Capitulum XXVIII

C onnie insisted we wait until classes started up again before taking us into the cathedral.

"I need to know the schedule so we don't risk encountering anyone," Connie insisted after we got back to campus on Christmas morning.

"I think you're just being a big baby," Arlie said.

"Even so, what I say goes."

"Touché."

Despite my curiosity, I was happy to have a few days of peace after the evening I'd had.

I didn't see anything of Professor Faun for the winter holiday. No more notes appeared, and I wasn't sure what to assume he thought about the whole situation. I wasn't even sure I would apologize because I'd have to admit to what I'd done if he wasn't already aware.

The first Monday back after winter break, I held my breath all the way to Transformation. He didn't arrive until everyone was seated, and when he came in, he was... different.

The other students noticed as well.

He looked rumpled and exhausted, hair flopping in his face and shirt untucked. I'd only seen him looking that undone a couple of times, and I suspected it wasn't a good thing.

He chucked his stuff on his desk without so much as greeting anyone.

"Seems like he needed another few days of holiday, too," someone whispered nearby, leading to a small chorus of snickering.

He dug into the paper slips and announced two names.

The two students hesitantly got to their feet, but as they came to stand in the front of the room, one of them turned to him and bravely asked, "Professor, shouldn't we be going through the syllabus? Why are we continuing with what we were doing before the break?"

"Well, since none of you managed to impress me, I thought I'd offer a chance to redeem yourselves."

"But, Professor—"

"If every student in this room does not improve significantly, I don't know if I'm going to be able to pass any of you in good conscience."

That shut everyone up fast.

Frowning, I tried to meet his eye, but he refused to look in my direction.

Clearing his throat, he glanced down at the slip of paper. "Good. Now that we're all on the same page, please try to become a decently convincing floor lamp before I get really unpleasant."

The two people exchanged looks, and he gestured at them impatiently.

Their faces strained in concentration as they morphed, heads expanding and bodies contracting. From what I could see, both people did a pretty good job. One of the student's shoelaces was still protruding from the bottom of the lamp like two cut wires.

"Fine, whatever. Decide among yourselves who won and write it on the board."

He fished around in the bowls again, not even giving the students enough time to change back into their own bodies before calling the next set of names.

The following class was painful for everyone. When it was finally done, most students practically sprinted for the exit.

I lingered behind, pretending to mess with my foot until everyone was gone.

He'd gone to stew at his desk, and I approached, whispering, "What's going on?"

"Absolutely nothing that is your concern."

I circled to his side of the desk to drop my voice. "Listen, I'm sorry about Christma—"

"Don't be. It was about time one of us developed some sense. I'm just ashamed that it wasn't me."

"That's not..." I began, thinking of the best way to phrase what I wanted to say. "It wasn't that I didn't want to see you."

"I assure you, trying to spare my feelings will only make me more intolerable to be around, so please do us both a favor and resist."

"Faun." I caressed his shoulder.

He flinched. "You're going to be late for your next class."

I let my arm drop to my side but didn't move. My mind swam, searching for something to say.

"Please," I whispered, but he ignored me, so I left.

Tears slipped down my face as I crossed campus by myself until I heard the familiar sound of a shovel grinding into snow.

Ahead of me was Rigel, taking lumps of grey slush and chucking them off the path.

I tried to wipe the tears off my cheeks and veer off into the field to avoid him, but the crunch of my cane alerted him to my presence.

His gaze flicked my way, only pausing when he recognized who I was. I met his eye for a second, watching my current state register on his face before I turned to the icy wind and kept going.

When all my classes were over, I had a few hours to kill before meeting with Connie to go to the cathedral, which I planned to use for sulking.

But on my way to my room, I was stopped by a familiar voice.

"Girl!" Stacy yelled, trundling through the snow toward me.

I tried not to be a bitch, though I was so exhausted I wasn't sure I was up for a chat.

"You're coming to have tea with me."

I was taken aback by the words.

"Sorry, Stace, I'm a little busy."

"Too busy for a cup of tea?"

It was easy to be swayed by the offer, though I wasn't sure why she was making it. She rarely tracked me through campus to make me sit by the fire with her. It didn't all click until I descended the stairs in her tree to find Rigel waiting for us at the table.

"What the hell, Stace?" I groaned.

She glanced between us as she unwound the scarf I'd made from around her neck. "I thought you two were getting along again."

I blinked in confusion.

"Did he—"

"Yeah, we patched things up." He smiled up at Stacy. "Does this mean I can stop shoveling snow every day now?"

"Fuck no. I've been enjoying not doing it too much recently." She held up her raptor claws. "See how soft these hands have gotten?"

They chuckled, and I just stared at them.

She shrugged off her coat and nodded to my usual seat.

I crossed the room slowly, eyeing Rigel up and down as I passed him. He was looking at the table, drawing, as I circled him to take the seat.

It was almost startling. I'd never seen him actually draw, as the pictures had always just appeared. I sat, watching the lightning-fast way he sketched lines on the page, the action seeming careless but deliberate. I could suddenly see him by himself for years, with nothing to do but trace whatever was before him.

"What's with the shocked expression?" he asked, not looking up.

"I'm not . . ."

"I don't have to look at you to know."

Stacy groaned as she collapsed into her usual chair on the other side of me, and I didn't miss the satisfied smile on her face.

"What's got you looking so smiley?" I grumbled.

"I so rarely get to see the both of you at the same time. What a treat."

I stayed on my feet, calculating how long it would take me to book it up the stairs. "I do apologize, but I'm not exactly feeling super sociable right now."

"Since when have I ever made you socialize in here? Just relax, drink your tea, and crochet something nice for me."

I nodded to Rigel, who was still engrossed in his drawing. "Is he going to say anything?"

"You'd have to ask him."

"Sorry to disappoint." He finally looked up, grinning. "I don't have much going on personally."

I gaped at them as he returned to his drawing. Stacy picked up the bowl of mouse bones and the bundle of filter bags she had next to her.

While I wanted to return to my room and sulk, the simmering fire and familiar chair called to me, holding me in place.

Too tired to do anything else, I pulled a fiction book out of my bag and leaned back in the chair. I was shocked to feel my muscles unbind and my eyes close.

Then what felt like a moment later, someone's raptor claws dug into my shoulder, shaking me.

"Wake up, princess," she said, voice rough with laughter.

I sat up quickly, trying to blink the sleep out of my eyes. "Sorry."

I scrambled to look at the clock, letting out a breath of relief I wasn't late to meet Connie, though I was cutting it dangerously close.

"No matter. It's probably getting late for you guys anyway. Why don't you head out?"

"All right," Rigel said, still curled over his sketchbook. Her words finally roused him, and he released the pencil next to a small pile of wood shavings and tore out the sheet he'd been working on. "Who wants it?"

Stacy and I leaned in to get a good look at the drawing, a freeze-frame of the moment we'd just left.

Me, slumped in the chair, her working diligently, and the fire crackling in the background.

Stacy placed a single claw on the paper and slid it in front of me.

"I already have enough pictures of my ugly old mug. Why don't you take it?"

I cleared my throat. "Yeah, sure."

He was already on his feet when I plucked the drawing off the table, as if doing me the courtesy of not making me look at him as I accepted the unwanted gift.

"Bye, Stace," I yawned, shoving it into my bag.

The chilly wind outside sobered me up quickly. I tipped my chin into my collar and squinted against the snow flurry.

"I suppose I have you to blame for whatever that was," I said as Rigel matched my pace.

"I just had a sneaking feeling that you were going to sulk by yourself all night, so I thought I'd save you the trouble."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, the only time I've seen you shedding tears in public tended to involve your daughter, and as I'm sure you went to see her over the break..."

It was so strange to hear him—anyone for that matter—refer to my daughter so casually. But as he said it, my mind flashed back to her eyes, when she was somehow looking at me like she could see me.

"You're wrong," I said coolly. "The last time you saw me cry in public was because you decided to torture me in front of our classmates."

From the corner of my eye, he squirmed at my words. "I chose to omit that from my evaluation, as I assumed it wasn't a factor this morning."

"How convenient," I grumbled, wiping damp pieces of hair from my cheeks as we faced the wind. "For your information, I did go, and she's fine."

His shoulders slackened like he'd been prepared for worse news. "Would it sound repetitive if I restated my opinion on the psychological impact of returning there so often?"

"Repetitive and annoying," I confirmed, before trying my hand at cruelty. "Have you ever gone back to visit Diana?"

"No." He snorted. "Surely, you didn't need me to tell you that, Agnes. You knew before I did. I didn't really love her, did I?"

I sniffed. "I suppose not, but I didn't expect rational behavior from you as a rule. I figured you'd at least want to rattle some chains Ultor style. So, what was it, then? Too painful to watch her move on?"

He sighed. "No, never anything like that. I just realized that, on some level, there was nothing there for me. If she didn't love me, then it didn't feel like a loss. It hadn't even occurred to me that I might feel that way because I'd never actually loved her in the first place until you'd said it. But, you know, you're right. It makes sense."

"Well, bully for you, I guess."

"Do you think I really love Lindy?"

I winced. "Why are you asking me?"

"I find myself to be an unreliable narrator in this regard. I worry that if I really had loved her, I would have found her by now."

I shook my head. "Some things are out of your hands."

He didn't say anything, and when I peeked through the sleet to look at him, his eyes narrowed.

"Why did you say that like you know something?"

"I don't know anything you don't know."

"You remain a terrible liar."

We approached the Ultor dormitory, and he finally seemed to register where we were.

"Are you inviting yourself to my room?" he asked, and I was shocked that he didn't sound put off by the idea.

"In your dreams."

He cleared the steps in three easy strides, cutting me off. "What are you up to?"

"None of your beeswax," I said, shoving him out of the way.

I hurried to Connie's door, relieved it opened for me without needing to knock.

She was sitting at her desk, fiddling with stacks of paper.

"Are you sure you can handle this?" I asked when she nearly leaped out of her skin upon discovering my arrival.

"I'm fine," she snapped before gulping her anger and shaking her head. "Sorry. I am fine, I swear. I'm just nervous."

"Tell me exactly what we're doing, then, so I can know."

She laughed, the sound raw and grating.

"You're not doing anything. She won't come out if she thinks anyone else is there."

"She?"

"No matter." She waved away my question dismissively. "Just tell me what you need to know and promise you'll stay invisible and silent the entire time we're in there."

"Wow, this lady must be terrifying."

A smile curled the corner of her lip, making the quivering in her cheek even more obvious.

"No. It's not her I'm concerned about."

I gave her the rundown as she pulled on her shoes.

"Don't look so glum, Cons. You've got me as back up." I waved the cane around in front of her as she shut her door behind us. "Armed and dangerous."

"Don't try to be amusing. It's not a strength of yours."

I elbowed her lightly in the ribs, hoping a bit of playfulness would set her at ease.

"Careful, lying is a sin, puritan."

As we approached the cathedral, I became invisible, trailing her as she opened the door and allowed us to slip inside.

She walked through the central nave, turning for the staircase door curling up to the balcony.

I followed dutifully, though I didn't particularly understand where she was taking me. I'd anticipated delving into some great tomb to reach her mysterious figure. Instead, she circled all the pews on the balcony and mounted the stool in front of the organ.

As I watched from a safe distance, she shrugged off her coat and pulled the pin holding her hair in place at her nape. I'd never seen her hair down, so it was surreal to watch it unfurl down her back, thick and dark, tapered like a candle flame.

The first few notes she played sliced through the silence of the dark cathedral, making the room hum to life like an engine. Soon, her song was cut by another melody, one she wasn't playing.

I tiptoed closer, catching the dip of the ivory keys as they moved unbidden of a visible player.

Connie's back straightened in anticipation as a set of delicate long fingers began to materialize alongside her own. As the song reached its crescendo, the rest of the figure slowly revealed itself, sitting shoulder to shoulder with her on the bench.

She finished the song before finally retracting her hands into her lap and turning to the woman at her side.

"You stupid girl," the woman chided, voice strange and low. "Why have you come back?"