Page 112 of The Alchemists

“Marrying Van Bergen was like her penance. Trying to find her way back into Eden.”

“Or at least absolution,” Lily agreed.

“And then she killed herself?”

Lily shuddered. “It doesn’t make sense.” But she wasn’t sure if she just didn’t want to believe it. “It just doesn’t.” She wanted to be sure.

A brick-shaking knell resounded across campus, coinciding with Sebastian staggering in the door. Tori shrieked and flecked drops of Scotch on the carpet.

“What’s happening?” A golden medal shaped like an oak leaf dangled from his hand as his enormous bags jammed him in the hallway.

“No idea what that bell was, but—” A secondary boom cut Lily off, and all three of them jumped.

Asher opened his door in disgust, glaring between them.

“It’s not us!” Lily said, her nerves jangling.

“Oh, fuck,” Tori said, getting it just a second before Lily did. She sat up straight and grabbed Lily’s notebook.

“It’s a clue,” Lily gasped, abandoning Seb and his bags, diving for her phone.

Cornelius Windermere’s voice boomed through the suite, and all four of them jumped again before Asher, and much more slowly, Seb, jammed themselves onto the couch with Lily and Tori.

“I, Cornelius Windermere, certify this as my last true will and testament. The discovery of this will shall supersede any directives from previous documents.

Upon the confirmation of the terms, all holdings in my estate shall pass to my heir.”

They sat in silence as the final word echoed on and on, minds whirring. Finally, Sebastian turned to her, his face pale with the exhaustion of tournaments and portals, but beneath the fatigue, she saw dull fury.

“What did you do? I thought we were done with this.”

“She didn’t do anything,” Tori said, her quick defense surprising Lily.

“I was just reading the letters, I found out—” She trailed off as Seb pushed himself up from the couch and moved stiffly to his room. “Do you really not want to know what I found?” She couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice.

The clunk of his heavy door shutting behind him was answer enough.

SEB

Lily waited a full ten minutes before knocking; longer than he probably would have. He knew it was mostly transplacement fatigue draining the color from the world, turning annoyances into bonfire fuel, but knowing didn’t stop the seething in his chest. The regional tournaments were always grueling, but usually it was tempered with excitement, the thrill of nights spent drinking in new places with strangers who became friends through forced proximity. That was how he and Adriana had become friends. This year, each weekend away from Windermere was an ache, constant and implacable.

He was going through the motions in these bouts, hated that he was playing that way, couldn’t stop. It was a curse of his—his incapability of anything but full commitment once his mind had been made up. Trying to split his nature like this would probably destroy him, but he only had two more off-campus weeks before a brief respite and then Nationals, over break in April.

It wasn’t just the time away from campus and the portaling that had his stomach roiling—it was Conrad. He’d been at Dunmoody, and Seb had no idea why or how. The not knowing meant he was left to assume, and his assumptions were darker and darker things, sucking all the light out of him. He⁠—

“Seb?” Lily opened the door, her voice a whisper in case he’d already passed out. “Can I come in?”

He was too far into the malcontent to admit that he wanted her there, but he managed to wiggle a few inches toward the far side of his bed. She joined him, sliding her cold toes under his thigh. She watched him not say anything for a few moments before fluffing a pillow so she could recline.

“Jean van Bergen was Windermere’s son.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t shocked, not really. Well, a little.

She waited for more of a reaction, didn’t get it.

“Selene killed herself,” she said quietly.

At this he turned over, facing her, watching the lamplight illuminate the heartache Lily was trying to tamp down.