Don’t fall for that, I reminded myself. This is Paul, a manipulative siren, capable of forcing sympathy. A part of me winced at my easy use of stereotyping, but sometimes it was hard not to judge a person by their kind. Especially when combined with their past actions.

“I’m fine,” I said at last.

Mr. Corvus made a disgruntled sound. “You still haven’t answered my question, Miss Everhart.”

I blinked, coming back to my senses. “Oh, I was just…” I stooped and started picking up books, my face aflame. “Just…”

“Snooping?” Mr. Corvus said. Startled by what sounded like humor, I glanced up to see he’d raised his one eyebrow in a somewhat amused expression. “I’ve heard you’ve a habit of doing that.”

“It’s more like a compulsion,” I said, encouraged by the slight change in his attitude—subzero to only icy was still an improvement. “I just can’t help myself sometimes.”

“You’ve got lots of reasons to be suspicious,” Paul said in a quiet voice, his eyes fixed on the floor now.

Mr. Corvus cleared his throat. “Reason or not, that’s no excuse for you to invade my privacy.”

I swallowed. “I’m sorry, sir. The door was open and I didn’t think about what I was doing.”

“That much is clear.” Mr. Corvus ran his thumb and forefinger over the two halves of his mustache. “Apology accepted. Now clean this up. We need to get started with your detention.”

I nodded, picking up the pace.

“Give me a moment, Paul,” Mr. Corvus said, “and I’ll find the book I promised you.”

I looked up, suspicious again. What business did Paul have with Mr. Corvus? An unpleasant memory of how Paul would sometimes meet Marrow after class rose up in my mind.

Marrow could be anybody, I realized. The couple of times I’d asked about it, nobody seemed to know just how his return to life would be. Would he even look like himself or would he resemble someone else entirely?

A violent shiver went through my body. Stop with the paranoia already. I needed to focus on the real-life dangers present in this very room. Namely, Paul Kirkwood.

He knelt down and started helping me with the rest of the books. “So what did happen to your face?”

I sighed, risking a glance at him. The eye contact thing was getting easier. “Gym class. What else?”

He smiled. “I hope you feel better soon.”

I stood, not saying anything. The awkwardness of the situation was making me antsy, and I wished Mr. Corvus would hurry up so Paul could leave already. There was something wrong about exchanging pleasantries with this guy like we were old friends. Never mind that it was what I was supposed to be doing.

“Ah, here we go.” Mr. Corvus pulled a book from one of the drawers on his desk. He held it out to Paul. I stared at it, trying to read the title but not having any luck. The inscription on the black cover had faded long ago. “Be sure you return it as soon as you’ve finished.”

“I will, sir,” Paul said, accepting the book. He tucked it under his arm, gave me a final smile, then left.

“So,” I said, turning to Mr. Corvus and trying to act casual. “What was that book, anyway?”

He raised his eyebrow again. “Do you know what some would say about your curiosity?”

Sensing a trap here, I tried the cute and innocent defense. “Um, that it’s an admirable side effect of my smart and inquisitive nature?”

Mr. Corvus did not smile. Instead the eyebrow lowered, making his expression even more intimidating. “Nosy is what they would say. Or better yet, mind your own business.”

I gulped, feeling thoroughly chastised.

“Now, take a seat and we’ll begin.”

I did as he said, pulling out the chair in front of the desk and plopping into it, my nervousness bringing out my clumsiness.

Mr. Corvus withdrew yet another book from the desk drawer and set it down in front of me with an audible thud. I’d never seen a book so large and heavy before. Like the one he’d given Paul, this too had a black cover that was clearly made of some kind of leather, but I had a feeling it wasn’t cowhide. The texture seemed too hard and scaly. Lizard maybe. And utterly creepy. Strange silver symbols were engraved on the front. They didn’t look like any of the rune alphabets I’d seen translated in various textbooks, but more like pictographs, Egyptian hieroglyphs maybe, although without any of the typical cranes or ankhs.

Mr. Corvus opened the book to a page bookmarked with a white feather. The top half of the page consisted of a single large symbol, which I took to be an illustration rather than a pictogram. It showed three linked circles, one on top and two on the bottom, but all joined in the middle. Beneath the illustration were more of the strange pictographs like on the cover. They ran in lines down the center of the page, arranged like a poem.

“Your task for this detention is simple,” Mr. Corvus said. “You will translate the first line of this text.”

My jaw fell open in disbelief. “Um, how the heck am I supposed to do that?”

“You mean you can’t read this already?”

I did a double take, my eyes darting to the pictograms and then back to Mr. Corvus. His expression remained deadly serious, and his tone suggested that he had doubts about my intelligence in general. “Uh…”

“I’m only teasing, Dusty.” A ghost of a smile flickered across his face.