Page 9 of The Mist of Stars

I crinkle my nose. “How are we even supposed to do that? Witches use magic.”

More amusement sparkles in his eyes. “The academy created that magic simulator. It’s up and running, so we’re going into that.”

I release a heavy sigh as I stand up. “Great.” Then I turn and walk toward the doorway the class is filing out of, Alex trailing behind me.

“You seem upset,” he says quietly.

“You don’t know me well enough to make that speculation,” I reply, even though he’s right.

“I know you better than you think.” He walks close behind me, to the point where that buzzing is making my eye twitch. “You’ve been friends with my sister for years. And we used to be friends, too.”

“Well, I’ve changed a lot since then.” I chew on my bottom lip, telling myself to stop talking, to end the conversation there. That he’s the enemy. But the words come out, anyway. “Doesn’t it feel a bit weird that we’re practicing protecting ourselves from witches when Aislin is a witch?” I glance over my shoulder at him, and his expression says it all. “You do.”

He shifts uncomfortably. “Of course I do, but I also know that not all witches are like my sister. And if I’m going to go out and fight evil, I need to learn these skills so I can protect myself.”

He has a point, and I’m annoyed that he does.

Instead of telling him that, I turn back around and exit through the doorway. He remains quiet as we follow our instructor down the hallway and up the spiral stairway that winds up to a tower at the castle’s top point.

The room that we end up in is spacious and has stained-glass windows. The ceiling is pointed and has windows, as well, revealing the sunlight sparkling in the sky above. It’s a nice day, and I find myself longing to be outside—to be anywhere but here really.

“Okay, class, gather around. Take seats on the benches. You can also sit on the floor.” He points to the carpet covering the brick floor.

I opt to take a seat on a bench and, to my happiness, Alex sits down on the floor. I’m getting situated when the teacher grabs a lantern on the wall and yanks on it like it’s a handle. The wall shifts, and behind it is another wall, but this one is made of sparkling glass.

Excitement rushes around the room as everyone takes in what I’m guessing is the entrance to the simulator. But I’mfeeling somewhat skeptical. It’s definitely made with magic, which means witches had to have helped make it. I know Aislin wasn’t part of this, and as far as I know, she’s one of the few keepers who also has the moon-like witch’s mark. So, what witches or wizards helped make this? Why would they help make something that teaches keepers to fight against them? It doesn’t make any sense.

I make a mental note to ask Aislin then try to pay attention as the instructor prattles on for a while about the rules then announces the first pair who will enter.

“Alex, Gemma, would you two mind going first?” he asks, glancing from Alex to me.

If I had my way, I’d decline. It’s not that I’m a chicken. I just feel really weird about doing this. But Alex being Alex jumps to his feet.

“Sure,” he replies in a way too upbeat tone.

I drag myself to my feet and trudge across the room. The closer I get to the simulator, the more the buzzing inside me increases. My eye twitches again, and I quickly scratch it, telling myself to chill the hell out.

“You okay?” Alex asks, his green eyes reflecting the light as he assesses me with a hint of concern.

“Yep.” I square my shoulder. I can handle this.

I can.

I—

The second I step forward, I’m sucked into a vortex of cold, bright light. It swallows me whole and, for a brief, star-flicker of a moment, I think I’ve passed out. But a handful of seconds later, my feet land on the ground. Of course, I land with the grace of a drunk ogre and end up tripping and falling on my hands and knees. I grunt then mentally curse myself for landing so idiotically.

And Alex makes it worse when he lands with the flawlessness of an angel, his feet gently touching the grass. He drops his eyes to me and frowns.

“Are you okay?” He hurries toward me as I stumble to my feet.

“I’m fine.” I brush the grass off my hands and knees. “I just wasn’t expecting that.” When I elevate my gaze to him, his hand is outstretched toward me. I slant back. “What’re you doing?”

He sighs then places his fingers in my hair. “You have grass in your hair.”

“Oh.”Face palm.

He picks the grass out, dropping them to the ground, seeming totally unaffected by the buzzing, unlike me. My skin is roaring with humming heat that I feel like I might turn into one of the stars dotting the lavender sky …