Page 27 of The Alchemists

“I don’t know.”

“Well, then here’s another question for you—what did you pull out of the fire at the Revelation?”

LILY

Allsaires stared at her. She thought he was going to tell her to fuck off—it wouldn’t be undeserved, she felt, for asking about Hawleyhurst. Lashing out was a reflex, her trapped animal defense. But this time she wanted to take the words back as soon as she’d uttered them. They’d brought down his walls and she’d seen him as he truly was—raw and red, badly bandaged. Then they’d gone back up, his eyes as hooded and bored as ever, lips stuck halfway between a pout and a sneer.

Then he’d apologized.

Clearly whatever she’d thought about him before was wrong, but she had no idea at all now who he actually was. Slowly, after casting a quick look around to ensure their privacy and throwing up a spontaneous dampening bubble like it was nothing at all, he reached into his pocket and set a ring on the table.

“I didn’t realize anyone was still there.”

She leaned forward and peered at it. “I’m pretty good at going unnoticed.”

She reached for the ring, then halted, flicking a glance in his direction. She hadn’t been the one to stick her arm into a bonfire, after all. He nodded and she picked it up. It was warm from the heat of his skin and heavier than she’d expected. It reminded her of a class ring in its style. The band was gold beneath the tarnish, and there was an opaque black stone set in it, covered over with thin bands of gold forming two symbols.

“These are the same symbols from the bonfire.” As she turned the ring over, she saw they were also etched into the side of the band.

“Yeah.” He was looking at her oddly. “Did you play last year?”

He wants to know if you’re the competition.

“No, I’m…no. Just curious.” She glanced at him. “Have you put it on?”

“No.”

She dropped it into his palm. “Why not?”

“Because something might happen.”

Lily laughed. “Isn’t that the point?”

“Not if it’s the wrong something at the wrong time.” He narrowed his eyes at the ring in his hand. “I haven’t really looked into anything yet. I need to be prepared for…whatever.”

“Why only one ring? Doesn’t that seem…unfair?”

Allsaires bit his lip and placed the ring on top of their open book, right on the monstrosity with the penises. “I don’t think it’s an advantage. I think whoever ends up with this thing has to do the legwork to get to the next clue. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be much of an Elumnara.”

Lily picked up the ring. “So, you’ve got the Nursery Words, a ring, two symbols, and the Chalice of Windermere. Oh, and the nonsense about an heir.”

“Our cup truly runneth over.”⁠* He rolled his eyes and heaved a mighty sigh as he bastardized the Windermere motto, and Lily found herself laughing. Allsaires shot her a subtle glance that said he appreciated her appreciating his cleverness.

Mostly she appreciated how easily the prince of Windermere desecrated his own castle.

“What do you think about the heir?”

He sighed. “It feels like sensationalism, a red herring. But…”

“But Windermere was famously without an heir.”

Their school’s founder had a daughter, but she’d spent most of her life in France with his estranged wife and died young and childless.

“And the wording of it is so…vague. Will whoever finds the Chalice be named the heir, or…”

“Or is whoever finds the Chalice actually Windermere’s heir?”

“Right,” said Allsaires. “Either way it’s ridiculous. The latter, especially, when magical bloodlines are so well documented. If it’s true, it must be the former.”