Violet is in the middle of presenting our prize when that sharp, tingling pain sizzles through my relic once again, as it had earlier today. A cold rush of air raises the hair on the back of my neck, and an incoherent whisper flies past my ear before dissipating into thin air. I twist my head around to see if anyone else noticed something different, but people are still focused on our map.

I press a hand to my chest where my relic is, my brow furrowing in confusion.

"Are you alright?" Liam asks, concern etching his brow as he looks at me.

"Can you..." I start, tempted to ask him about the odd sensation. Then I think better of it. It's probably nothing. "Nevermind." When I realize that isn't good enough for him, and muster what I hope is an encouraging smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Ok," he says, obviously not convinced.

We win Squad Battle, naturally—which means tomorrow we'll be leaving for Montserrat.

Which means I'll be about a half-hour flight from my family. Which makes me far more nervous than it should.

My mother hadn't let my family come to see me off before Parapet. She refused to acknowledge that I was actually doing this, and she didn't want my "bad habits" influencing my sisters. But from what Rylan had said after Saoghal started channeling means that her plans didn't work.

I don't want to see my mother. But I had to if I wanted to see the rest of my family, so sacrifices must be made.

I walk back to my room with the rest of my squad, trailing behind them slightly. I smile as they cheer and whoop and run around the halls like little children who'd just had candy for the first time.

Suddenly, the prickle on the back of my neck returns, and the pain in my relic slams into me with a vengeance. I gasp, a hand clutching my chest as I fall against the stone wall. Liam runs back to help me, being the only one who noticed my collapse.

"Wisteria!" He holds me up, studying me with worry lining his brow.

A voice whispers past my ear, a cold rush of air following it. My eyes widen in panic as my gaze darts around, but were the only ones in the hallway. Another voice follows it, then another and another until I'm drowning in incomprehensible whispers. I sink to the ground, sweat coating my body, clamping my hands over my ears in hopes of silencing the voices. It doesn't work.

I vaguely hear Liam shouting my name, shaking my shoulders. I open my eyes to look at him, but it's not Liam I see. It's behind him. A cold, shadowy figure stands over him, staring at me blankly with cold white eyes. I scream in terror, scrambling away from the figure and curling up as tightly as I can on the stone floor of the hall.

I must've passed out, because when I open my eyes again I'm lying in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room. It's only when I spot Liam sitting next to the bed do I realize whose room I'm in.

"Liam?" I whisper, my voice hoarse from screaming. He immediately jumps up, coming to sit next to where I lie.

"Are you alright?" He asks softly, brushing blond hair out of my eyes gently. I close my eyes. The harsh, screaming whispers of the voices have dulled to constant murmurs. I nearly want to sob when I realize they're still there.

I don't. I pull myself together and take a deep breath. "What time is it? We have to leave for Montserrat," I groan, trying to sit up. My body is sore and stiff.

Liam shakes his head. "We don't leave for another few hours," he murmurs. I continue to try and sit up, reaching for something to help me do so. My hand makes contact with Liam's arm, and he jumps back with a hiss.

I frown at him, before we both look down at his arm, and the blackened, smoking fingerprints there.

We stare at them until they fade into his normal, tanned skin, we stare at them until they've been gone for about five minutes.

"What...?" Liam breathes, looking at me with wide eyes. "Wisteria...I think you've manifested."

I stare at him blankly. The voices. The figure, and now my hands leave burning handprints? No. No, I will not be condemned to a life of listening to those incessant murmurs. "No," I say out loud. "No. I can't have! No, no, no, no..." I do start crying then, staring at my hands in front of me. They look normal. They feel normal. But I don't want them any more.

"It's all right," Liam whispers, trying to calm me down. "We just need to figure out what your signet actually is. You're going to be fine, all right?" I try to latch on to his voice, attempting to block out the whispers.

I nod shakily. "We need to see Professor Carr."

Liam helps me stand up, careful to avoid my hands, and we hurry as fast as we can down the halls to Carr's room. We knock on the door, and there's a moment of silence in which we can hear the Professor grumbling in annoyance at being disrupted so early in the morning.

He swings the door open, glaring and Liam and I irritably in his pale nightgown. "What?" He snaps. "There better be a good reason for this."

"I think..." I pause, choking on the words before I finally force them out. "I think I've manifested, sir."

He stares at me blankly. "And you're coming to me at two in the morning...why, exactly?"

I frown at him. "You're the wielding professor."

Carr rolls his eyes. "What do you need help with, girl?"

I pause, trying to figure out what to say. What do I need help with? I manifested my signet but I have no idea what it is. Yeah, pretty much.

"I...don't know what my signet is," I mumble, and Liam hugs me tighter to his side. I make sure to keep my hands clasped firmly in front of me.

Professor Carr stares at me for a long moment, before sighing. "Come inside, then." He steps aside and waves Liam and I into his room. I don't know what I expected for the Professor's private chambers. Maybe a few eyeballs in jars, taxidermied animals hanging from the roof.

But his room was surprisingly...cozy? There's a desk in the middle of the room, and a circular window sits behind it, potted plants hanging from the frame. Mage lights flicker from a chandelier like one of the many hanging in his classroom, casting a soft glow over the whole room.

"What are your signs?" Carr asks, moving to sit as his desk and pulling out a paper and pen.

I glance at Liam. I hadn't told him about the voice or the figure I had seen behind him. "I can hear voices," I say finally. "Like whispers, but I can't tell what they're saying. My hands...I'm not really sure what my hands did, but when I touched Liam's arm it burned him." I pause for another moment before saying, "and I saw someone. A figure, like a dark shadow with white eyes, just staring at me."

Professor Carr just stares at me for a minute, before standing up abruptly and taking one of his plants out of the holder, bringing the pot over and setting it on his desk. "Touch it," he orders.

"What?" I ask, bewildered.

"Don't make me ask again, girl," he warns, and I frown but do as he says. I reach out to touch the plants, and as soon as my fingers make contact with the healthy, full green leaves, they die.

They wither and shrink and crumble to dust beneath my fingers, and I jerk my arm back with a gasp, but it's too late. The entire plant is a shriveled husk of what it once was. Dead.

I stare at the plant in shock as Carr mutters to himself and scribbles down notes on his paper. "Voices you said? And a shadow?"

I nod, my voice caught in my throat. I look up from the plant back at Carr, and my gaze catches on something by the window.

The shadowy figure is back, staring at me once again. I frown, walking around the desk toward it. It merely stares at me blankly as I come to stand in front of it. Now that I'm up close, I can make out human features on the figure's face and body. The buckles on riding leathers. A broad jaw and upturned nose. She looks oddly familiar.

"Ria?" Liam asks tentatively. I realize he must think I'm staring at the wall right now.

"She's here," I murmur, giving the shadowy woman one last glance before walking back over to Liam. Professor Carr is digging through a giant book on his desk, muttering and grumbling to himself.

"She?" Liam frowns, glancing over to where I had been standing.

I don't give him an answer, instead staring at the dead plant on Carr's desk. I killed it. My hands killed it. I look down at my hands, my pale skin normal as ever. But it's not normal. It will never be normal again.

"Professor, we do have to leave for Montserrat in a couple hours," Liam says. "I don't think either of us have packed yet."

The professor ignores him completely and looks up at me over oval reading glasses. "Have you ever heard of the term necromancy, girl?"

I frown at him, before glancing at the shadowy woman still standing in the corner. "It's manipulation over the dead, right?"

He nods, taking off his glasses. "It would seem that you, girl, are a necromancer."

There's a moment of stunned silence. "I—" my mouth flaps open and closed like a fish out of water as I try to find the words. "I thought they were a myth?"

"Clearly not," Professor Carr studies me with even more scrutiny than usual. "Hearing voices in your head? Seeing figures? Your very touch is death, girl. It makes sense. Your dragon is a powerful one, albeit strange. It makes sense she would grant you a rare signet."

"You're telling me I'm going to have these fucking voices in my head and ghosts following me around everywhere till I die?" I exclaim, my chest tightening. "No fucking way. No. I don't want this."

"You have no choice," Professor Carr snaps. "It seems that the focal point for your power is in your hands, considering Cadet Mairi can touch the rest of you just fine. It will be easy enough to wear gloves, which I'm sure you have a pair of." He pauses, and his cold gaze softens for a second so brief I thought I might have imagined it. "This is your life now. I will do my best to teach you. There must be a way to control the visions and voices. I will do my research and I expect you to do the same."

I glare at him, my hands balling into fists. And then my anger dissipates. It's not his fault. It's not Saoghal's. I have no one to blame for this joke of a fucking signet.

"C'mon, Ria," Liam murmurs. "We should go pack." I hesitate for a moment, wanting more than just...your hands can kill with a touch and you can see and hear dead people. I don't want this. But Carr is right—this was my life now. And I'd be damned if I let it get the better of me.