Page 105 of The Witch in the Dead of Night

“Your Royal Highness,” she replied flatly. “If you’ve come to disrupt more of our classes, I’m sorry to inform you that the term has already ended.”

Enhart’s grin didn’t falter. “Not this time, I’m afraid. Did you not receive the King’s missive?”

She shook her head. “The Chancellor informed me only that we should prepare for visitors.” Her brown eyes flicked to me. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss—”

“Erramun,” I finished for her. “Finn Erramun.”

“Future adviser of the Arcane Arts to the King of Valen,” Enhart announced. “And Finn, this esteemed scholar you see before you is Agnes Cartwright, Vice-Chancellor of Hollybrook. This,” he pulled a letter from his cloak and handed it to the older woman, “should explain everything.”

Agnes took the wrinkled parchment, breaking its seal with a snap. Her frown slipped as she dragged her gaze over an elegant scrawl I recognized as Mordric’s. “Fascinating,” she said finally. “It’s been many centuries since a royal adviser has held such a title, and even longer since anyone has wielded the Ealdorfyre. I’m sure you’ll have much to discuss with the Chancellor.”

She gestured for us to follow, leading us to a study decorated with oddities: assorted animal specimens in glass jars, dried flora hanging from the walls, and baubles and trinkets that I did not recognize. The Vice-Chancellor circled the desk, gesturing for me to take a seat in a straight-backed chair opposite her. The air seemed to glow faintly around her as she settled into her seat. My eyes widened.

“You’re a witch, aren’t you?” I guessed.

She nodded once. “I am, although my power has never fully manifested.”

My eyes widened. For so long, I had held out hope that I would one day meet another of my kind. Sitting before Agnes now, I wasn’t quite sure what to say. I glanced over at Enhart, who leaned against the far wall inspecting his fingernails. He’d told me he’d only met three witches in over two hundred years. She must be one of them. She adjusted the spectacles that had slid down her long nose. “It seems I have much to discuss with the Chancellor,” she said. “Although I imagine that His Majesty has oriented you to the general purpose of your stay here?”

I nodded.

“Good,” she continued. “Although it may appear as if your arrival has a singular purpose, the school’s philosophy, wisdom lights the way, applies to all who cross its threshold. We are in recess before the next term begins, but the Chancellor and I are available to you to address any inquiries you may have during your stay here. Our world-renowned library is also open to you.”

“Thank you,” I said, thrilled by the prospect of being surrounded by ancient books on complicated magic that I was free to read at my leisure.

“Before I dismiss you to your quarters, do you have any questions?” she asked.

I paused as several fought among themselves on the way to my tongue. I was eager to pick the brain of the only other witch I’d ever met. “I’m grateful to you and the Chancellor for your hospitality,” I said, “and I look forward to working with you, but I find myself wondering what your specialty might be.”

The burst of amusement that hit me from Enhart’s direction warmed my cheeks, and I could’ve sworn that the corners of the Vice-Chancellor’s straight-lined mouth nearly turned up. “I’ve dabbled in alchemy throughout my career.”

“You’re far too modest, Agnes,” said Enhart. “The Vice-Chancellor is the realm’s foremost thinker in Alchemic Experimentation and Ethics.”

“Hubris does naught to further one’s academic pursuits, Your Royal Highness,” she scolded him gently. “As I have told you many times before.”

“Have you?” he asked, a grin spreading across his face. “I can’t recall.”

She frowned at him. “I imagine that the Chancellor will want to speak with you both when he wakes. In the meantime, we’ve taken the liberty of arranging your quarters in his apartments. I trust that you can find your way there?” she said, addressing Enhart.

“Undoubtedly,” he replied.

The Chancellor had provided us with two bedchambers, a drawing chamber, and a small dining room. The sturdy wooden bed inside my bedchamber was piled high with blankets. A writing desk stood beneath the window, complete with a set of fresh quills, parchment, and a sealed pot of ink. Though the rooms were less extravagant than what I was now used to in Valnar, I wasn’t about to complain. It was a luxury just to be inside after sleeping on the ground for much of our journey. The breeze carried the scent of the forest in through the open windows. I set my things down at the foot of the bed, looking forward to diving under the blankets as soon as possible.

Finn.

I straightened, glancing around the empty room. “What?” I called to Enhart across the sitting area.

He peeked around his door, his brow creased. “Pardon?”

I tapped my right temple. “You called?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Oh,” I said, stepping into the sitting area. I scanned the chamber, searching for the source of the voice.

“You’re hearing voices now?” asked Enhart, appearing at my side. “That’s not concerning at all.”

“Maybe it was Agnes,” I reasoned.