“Now you’ll also have your faculty advisor. I won’t be there to watch you.”
That made me feel a little better. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to change her mind, I instead changed the subject. “Why’d the Council suddenly declare me the prophecy?”
“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Have a seat.” She walked around the desk and sat in her chair. I pulled up the corner chair and sat on the opposite side. “Before the meeting, the Council had every intention of decreeing Spencer the prophecy.”
“Why didn’t they?” I still didn’t understand and had been so excited to not lose my title I’d completely forgotten to ask.
“His birthday.”
Another thing I still didn’t understand. “I get why they think mine is some sort of sign. The Ides of March is a pretty significant date in our world. But what’s the big deal about December twenty-first?”
“It’s the longest period of darkness every year. Some believe the darkest of elementals were born on or around that time, and that’s the reason why the darkness lasts so long on that day.”
“Were these the same people who believed the world was flat?” I loved my world, but some of our traditions and beliefs were ridiculously unbelievable. “It’s the shortest day of the year because of the position of the sun to the earth, and it’s only the shortest day in the northern hemisphere.” Well, look at that. I actually used something I learned in school. Go me.
“I didn’t say it had merit,” she defended, her hand up to stop me from continuing my argument. “And not everyone believes it.”
“But clearly, Albert Stephens does.” I can’t believe the guy refused Spencer the prophecy over something as absurd as a birthdate. Then again, I still had a hard time believing him decreeing me the prophecy over the same thing.
Talk about irony.
Stace leaned forward in her chair, so I did the same, mirroring her position by resting my elbows on the desk. “Now that the Council has once again invoked the prophecy—and decreed you as the one to carry it out—there are a few ground rules we need to go over. First, you’re not to leave the academy without informing me.”
Thinning my lips, I set my jaw to stop myself from telling her exactly what I thought of her bullshit rule. I was an adult, for crying out loud. I didn’t need a curfew, and I most definitely didn’t need to check in with her. “So basically, I’m on lockdown.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t leave. I said you had to tell me before you go anywhere.” She gave me a look.
My cheeks heated. Over embarrassment or irritation, I didn’t know and didn’t care. I was being grounded at twenty-one. “Anything else?”
“Yes.” She relaxed back, keeping her focus on me. “There’s something else I’d like to discuss with you.”
“If this is about Rob going to work for the Council, I already know. I also already know about him renting the cabin from you.”
“It’s secluded and powerfully warded. It would be the perfect getaway for, say, someone wanting some alone time with her quad squad.”
Was she giving me permission to teleport to the cabin at will? “Do I have to tell you when I go there?”
“Just tell me when you’ll be off-campus.”
“Okay.” I stood and replaced the chair in the corner. As I turned to leave, I remembered the other question I had. “Do you know how to make fog?”
She blinked at me. “Fog?”
“Magic fog,” I clarified. “I asked Spencer to help me, but he just tells me to bring my earth elemental to him.” I stated in a deep, mocking voice, buttery accent and all. Except from me. it sounded like someone really bad at both accents and mocking male voices. “I can call earth on my own. I don’t need Bryan to create magic fog. It’s my primary, for cripes’ sakes.”
She nodded, as if my ramblings made perfect sense. “That’s not why he wants Bryan to join you. It has nothing to do with your primary.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No. If it had to do with earth, Spencer could simply call it himself.”
Good point. “Then why?”
“Have you mentioned any of this to Bryan?”
What did that have to do with the price of tea in China? “No. Why?”
“He’d be able to tell you why Spencer keeps asking for him.” She stood and walked to the other side of the classroom and began erasing the whiteboard. “This is about his lineage.”
“This is about the darkness in Bryan’s bloodline?” I did not see that coming. Not knowing what else to do with my hands, I moved to the opposite side of the board and ran an eraser across the surface.
She finished erasing her side before facing me. “His grandfather was a powerful elemental who did terrible things, mainly capturing and torturing Nelem children at summits. His father worked hard to protect Bryan from that life, and it ultimately cost him everything, including his own life. The grandfather had this thing he did—a fog of sorts—to disorient others. He’d use it to steal Nelem children, escape the patrols, things like that.”
“Did you say a fog?” No way. No freakin’ way. I’d never get Bryan involved in something that hit so close to home. No wonder Spencer needed him. He didn’t know how to create it and hoped Bryan did.
I’d have to go out of my way to disappoint him.
“A really nasty-smelling fog,” she added. “Some said it smelled like death.”
How was that possible? My blood slowed, and I nearly dropped the eraser. I set it down before I did. “Alec’s call smelled a lot like that. I’ll never forget that scent.”
“Which is why you thought Alec created the fog. It’s understandable. Dark elementals have very similar scents to their calls.”
I thought about Spencer, about how many times I’d picked up that stench on him. “You don’t believe it was Alec?”
“I believe it was a dark elemental, but I don’t believe it was Alec. The scent of an
