ARCANA: (n.) the deadliest category of spell.

Arcana Spells require blood taken from someone against their will in a quantity that often results in the donor’s death. Arcanas are not only deadly for the donor, they are corrosive to the soul of the witch who uses them. For this reason, they were outlawed by Queen Raine the Innocent. Types of Arcana Spells range from complex illusions sustained over long periods to forbidden acts like raising the dead back to life.

—From Rules of Magic by Queen Callidora the Valiant

THE NEXT MORNING, RUNE could barely open her eyes as the sun beamed in through her window.

Get up, she thought, feeling more tired than she had in years. Like her limbs had turned to sand. Like her eyelids were made of stone.

Was this how Verity felt all the time?

You need to save Seraphine today.

And from the position of the sun, it was nearly midday.

Remembering the flowers Gideon made for her, and how she’d resolved to return them, Rune groaned and dragged herself from her bed. She dictated a quick telegram message to Lizbeth, asking Gideon if they could meet this afternoon.

His answer arrived an hour later, short and to the point.

MISS RUNE WINTERS WINTERSEA HOUSE

MEET ME AT THE STUDIO. 2 O’CLOCK.

GIDEON

Two o’clock gave Rune plenty of time before convening with Verity an hour later.

After quickly putting food in her stomach, Rune went to collect what she needed for tonight: the stolen uniform, Gideon’s access coin, and her last vial of blood. During her meeting with Alex and Verity, she’d put the coin and the vial inside the pocket of the uniform, and left the uniform folded on her casting table.

But when she went to retrieve them, only the uniform was there. The pockets were empty.

Rune dropped to her knees, looking under the desk to see if the items had fallen onto the carpet. But there was no sign of either the coin or the vial. She checked the uniform’s pockets again. Empty. She checked every inch of the casting room, then her bedroom. Nothing.

Rune ground her palms into her eyes, trying to think. Was she so tired, she misremembered where she’d put them?

Without that vial, and the start of her monthly cycle nowhere in sight, Rune had no blood to cast with. And without an access coin, she’d never get past the gates of the prison.

Verity must have taken the wrong uniform by accident.

If Rune left Wintersea now, she’d be able to stop at the university before meeting Gideon and collect the vial and coin from Verity. She quickly donned her riding clothes and tucked Alex’s ring—still on a chain around her neck—under the collar of her shirt.

As the silver band settled between her breasts, images of the future flashed in her mind: Standing with Alex on the prow of the boat as the mainland came into view. Walking together through the elegant streets of Caelis. Finding a group of friends they didn’t need to hide their true selves from. Reading by the fire while he played the piano late into the evening.

Soon, she told herself, throwing a cloak over her shoulders and fastening it at her throat. Soon.

After packing the Blood Guard uniform in one of Lady’s saddlebags, and the box of silk flowers from Gideon in another, Rune mentally checked

that she had everything she needed—minus her vial and coin—then headed for the university. Leaving Lady in the school’s stable, she took the familiar paths across the campus and arrived at Summer Hall. After pulling open the double doors and nodding to the staff behind the front desk, she turned down the dormitory halls, which were quiet at this time of day, since most students were in class.

When she arrived at Verity’s door, Rune knocked once. “Verity?”

No one answered. She knocked louder, and when there was still no answer, she tried the knob, which was unlocked. Turning it, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Verity, did I …”

Rune froze. The room was tinier than she remembered. More like a closet. And instead of Verity’s bed in the corner, there were a mop and bucket. There were no bookshelves overflowing with books or glass jars full of research projects, only shelves full of cleaning supplies. A ceramic sink stood along the wall, with dirty rags drying over its side.

“Can I help you?” said a gruff voice behind her.

Rune turned to find a rosy-cheeked woman with her hands on her hips, staring down at Rune like she was the oddity here.

“Oh. Um.” She must have turned down the wrong hall. “I’m looking for my friend. Verity de Wilde.”

“Unless your friend is a broom, you won’t find her in here.” “Right.” Rune swallowed. “My mistake.”

The woman muttered something under her breath as Rune stepped around her. Out in the hall, she glanced back over her shoulder, certain that was the door to Verity’s room.

But it can’t be, she thought, continuing on, trying to orient herself. It belongs to a broom closet.

She circled the main floor, looking for Verity’s actual room, but kept coming back to the closet, where the woman was filling a bucket of soapy water.

Could Rune be so tired she’d forgotten where her best friend’s room was?

This didn’t bode well for this afternoon.

Giving up, she returned to the front desk and smiled politely, approaching the young woman behind it. “Hello. This is embarrassing, but I’m looking for my friend. Verity de Wilde. Can you point me toward her room?”

The girl gave her a funny look. “What was the last name?” “… de Wilde.”

The girl took out a clipboard and ran her finger down a list of names and room numbers. She did it twice before glancing back to Rune. “I think you’re in the wrong building. No one here has that name.”

Rune blinked. “What?”

The girl repeated the words, much more slowly this time. As if that would help Rune understand.

“Verity de Wilde doesn’t live here.”

Rune glanced at the familiar purple dahlias on the wallpaper. Then the grass-green tiles beneath her feet.

“This is Summer Hall.”

The girl behind the desk nodded. “That’s right. Which hall are you looking for?”

This one, thought Rune.

A bad feeling cramped her stomach. But she was already running late. If she didn’t leave soon, she wouldn’t make it to Gideon’s by two o’clock.

“Thank you,” she said, backing out the double doors.

Outside, the air had grown colder, the sun hung low in the sky, and thunderous storm clouds were rolling in from over the sea.

Am I losing my mind?

First, the missing blood vial and access coin. Now, a missing Verity?

As Rune ran for the stables, her cloak billowing out behind her, she tried to think.

She’d been to Summer Hall hundreds of times. She could easily picture Verity’s room in her mind. The white roses on the wallpaper. Verity’s perpetually unmade bed. The towering stacks of used books on the floor, threatening to spill over at any moment.

It couldn’t not exist.

Unless it was an illusion.

That thought stopped Rune in her tracks.

She thought of the way Verity was always poring over Rune’s spell books, her fingers tracing the symbols.

Was she memorizing them?

She thought of the perfume Verity doused herself in, the scent so strong, it often gave Rune a headache.

What if she douses herself intentionally to cover another scent?

The scent of her magic.

But that would make Verity a witch. And if it was true, why hide herself from Rune, who was also a witch?

The sky darkened overhead, and Rune looked up. Storm clouds were rolling in fast.

Her head spun, unable to make sense of it. But Rune was running out of time; she was late to meet Gideon. Once she did, she would head for the palace, where, she hoped, Verity would be waiting with an explanation.

As the rain started to fall, she fetched Lady from the stables, and together they raced toward Old Town.