Void Domain, Book 06 полностью

A darker hand clasped her book before she could get to it.

Irene suppressed a groan at the thought of more bullying before following the arm up to the face. Or, more specifically, the crop of white hair.

“Hello Randal,” Irene said, trying to keep any sign of exasperation out of her voice.

Though she was certain that some had leaked into her tone, Randal merely smiled. He held out the book for her after brushing some dust off. “Should watch out. People can be dicks.”

Irene took it, eying him for any sign of insincerity. “Yeah,” she eventually said. “Kinda noticed.”

“You got hurt at all?”

“Bruised, I’m sure,” she said as she rubbed her chest. There wasn’t any pain at all, any longer, but she wasn’t about to take off her shirt to actually check for bruises. “Other than that, no.”

They stood around awkwardly–Irene used the silence to smooth out a few wrinkled pages while Randal rubbed his elbow.

“Listen–” “I–”

Both stopped talking, half glaring at each other. Randal gestured for her to speak first.

“I should be getting to class. Wouldn’t want to be late.”

“Oh. Right.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I’ll see you in,” he paused to glance around, “our class. Right?”

“Um, sure?” Irene said as she stepped away. Considering how he acted back in that class, Irene wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to see him in it. But he was being strangely nice.

Especially if that was him who tossed the dirt at Drew.

Boys, Irene thought, it would be nice if there were a book explaining them.

Between Randal, Drew, Jordan, and Max, Irene just had no idea how to handle them. She had hoped that Eva’s class would give some insight on Jordan at the very least, but thus far, that wasn’t the case.

Deciding to not visit the library at the moment, Irene made a beeline straight for Professor Zagan’s classroom. There was still time, but Irene had enough excitement for the day. And, though Drew would soon be in that classroom as well, he wouldn’t dare do anything to her under the professor’s watch.

Irene stopped in surprise as she opened the door.

Usually, Professor Zagan would show up the second the bell rung. Never before and rarely later. Today, he actually sat at the desk in the back of the large room, fiddling with something on top.

The situation quickly turned awkward as Irene stood at the door, not sure what to do.

Unlike most of her classrooms, this one was set up for training for a fight. That meant large empty spaces and no desks to speak of. There were no desks to sit and read at before class started. No other students had arrived quite so early, not that Irene would really mingle with anyone but her sister, Jordan, and Eva.

She could sit on the floor or lean against the wall.

But Zagan had looked up. His somewhat yellow eyes met hers and locked on. Even after a moment of fidgeting, he didn’t turn away.

Irene quickly went over her options. Fleeing would only mean that she would have to return later in embarrassment. Ignoring him would be rude and Professor Zagan did not take rudeness lightly. With those choices out of the way, Irene pressed into the room.

“Hello Professor,” she said while walking closer. Hoping–praying that she wasn’t prying, she asked, “working on something interesting?”

Rather than answer her, Professor Zagan held up the object in his hands. A brass sphere covered in engravings with two freely orbiting rings. No bars held up the rings, so it must have been magic. Or magnetism, but given the environment, Irene was putting her money on magic.

Unfortunately, him showing her the object didn’t answer her question.

Well, it did. Partially. The brass ball was visually interesting. But Irene had been more interested in knowing what it was.

Unless they were purely decorative, the markings must have some significance. Yet Irene recognized no part of them. Even taking into account the handful of runes Eva had shown everyone as part of her Christmas gift a year ago, not a mark on the surface looked familiar.

Before Irene could ask what it was, Zagan lazily waved a hand over the now floating ball.

Thin needles extended from the spinning rings, puncturing the sphere. The brass shell peeled away in thin, blooming onion-like strips. Inside–

Irene pulled back, pinching her nose shut as hard as she could. It didn’t help. She could still smell the stench through her mouth. Or worse, taste it.

A thick violet ooze rested in the bowl of the opened sphere. Visible clouds of gas bubbled out of it, staining the very air.

“W-what is it?”

Professor Zagan, looking completely undisturbed by the smell or the ooze, just chuckled. “You can tell a lot about a creature by its soul.”

“That’s a soul?” Irene half-shrieked. She took another step back as a plethora of questions ran through her head.

Why does the professor have a soul? Whose soul? Why are souls so… gross?