Page 28 of Divine Oaths

On the other side of the maze, Provost Henning spoke again.

“Scholar Saint James? Are your brother and that silly Garnier girl back there?” The provost laughed. “She never is far when it comes to you Saint Jameses. Bring them here. I’ll have the president notified of this immediately. Campus grounds are highly restricted for orientation, and I’m sure whatever you’ve caught them doing is against university policy.”

It was as if on all sides, Kasem was cornered. Provost Henning, shouting threats at him. Honey, caught between belief and suspicion of what he had done to me. The professor, knowing he had the weight of tenure on his side and the backing of the institution. And then there was Jojo, his older brother, watching Kasem as if he were wild and dangerous.

Kasem ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head with laughter that was as cold and brittle as the outside air. Our gazes locked, and the laughter died on his lips.

“Don’t confuse what you think you saw with what really happened,” he said. “It’s easy to imagine things here at Westfield.”

“I know what I saw,” I said, my voice trembling yet defiant.

He scowled but didn’t answer. Instead, he walked to the other side of the maze and down the path where Provost Henning and the cohort of first-year scholarship students were waiting. The provost interrogated him the moment he reached them.

“I’ll have you expelled this time, Kasem. I’ll make sure of it. Students,” she said, clearing her throat and returning her attention to the group accompanying her. “I shall bid you adieu at this time. I’ve already notified Joseph, your other resident assistant, to meet you and take you back to your dorm. Follow the path where we came, and he’ll be waiting. If you have any questions, you can raise them to your resident assistant or the dean of your school.”

Alaster was already on his way out of the maze, taking the path back from where he’d come. But Honey was a mess. Her lipstick was smeared, her shirt half-buttoned, and her lace bra exposed from earlier. Jojo helped her up, barely even looking at me when he spoke.

“Go, Sianna,” Jojo said. “Now. We’ll talk later.”

Reluctantly, I raced after Alaster. By the time I turned the corner, Provost Henning had arrived at where Kasem, Honey, and Jojo were crouched on the ground. Whistles and coos spilled through the other side of the maze. Some of the freshmen hadn’t left yet.

“Well, this is embarrassing,” Honey muttered. “Kasem and I are sorry for interrupting your tour with the new students,” she said, speaking to the provost. The tears in her voice had disappeared and, instead, she spoke in that same loud, bubblegum tone that she’d used on the fan boat.

“Welcome again to Westfield. May the debts we owe to blood be waged in our legacy.”

I was already halfway gone, but her words made my heart drop.

“What did she just say?”

Alaster turned to look at me, annoyed.

“What?”

“May the debts we owe to blood be waged in our legacy,” I repeated.

“The Westfield motto,” Alaster said, and the fact that he’d snapped into professor mode, when he’d just been caught with one of his students, was laughable. “You should have it memorized by now if you’re taking your time here seriously.”

But I wasn’t listening to him anymore. That phrase. It wasn’t exactly as the figure had said it, but it was there, like a warped version of the warning he’d given me.

Beware the mark of blood debts.

Instinctively, I reached for Kasem’s bracelet, ignoring the swell of regret forming in my chest as I followed Alaster out of the maze.

He knew the path easily, weaving from corner to corner until we emerged at the entrance from which I’d first come. The door I’d locked stood open, and the wedge had returned to its place between the door and its frame.

“You know,” Alaster said, “my cousin has a lot to say about me, but as a graduate student, Kasem should know better.”

I was taken aback by Alaster’s words. Kasem hadn’t looked much older than me. For him to already be pursuing a master’s degree was… unexpected, especially with his drunken antics at Gus’s shop.

“If he harmed you in any way back there, we can report it to your dean.”

“It wasn’t him. It was another person—one of the students,” I said, remembering the figure with skin like moonlight and pupilless eyes.

“You don’t have to lie for him.”

“I’m not. Why would I?” I shook my head, angry now. “He saved me. The branches came to life, they grabbed me, and a guy in a hoodie and a Westfield blazer—just like the one you’re wearing—tried to attack me.” I stopped, realizing what I’d implied.

“Now, don’t try and twist things to seem like something they’re not,” Alaster said, the warning clear in his voice.