I Still Loved You

Chapter 1: The Wrong Bowl

I had one hand inside the fox's enclosure when Elias Vale told me I was feeding the wrong familiar.

"Not that one, Mara. Tessa's fox is in the east room." He stood in the doorway with his coat still wet from the rain. "I need you to take the blue bowl. Please. The trial team's waiting on me."

The little silver fox nipped at my cuff. A fine tremor ran through its folded wings.

"I thought this was the east room."

"It was. The rooms were switched during the storm." Elias crossed the narrow aisle and held out a blue enamel bowl. "Here. Take this to Tessa's fox. She's already behind on her morning round."

I looked at the familiar I was tending. It was a long, black serpent, thin as a belt and twice as old as the trainees who stared at it. It had barely moved all week. One of its pale gold eyes tracked the bowl in my hands.

"Should I leave this for the serpent?"

"Leave it. I'll handle it."

I should have asked why the bowl was blue when the fox's feed was kept in green tins. I should have checked the label instead of trusting the man who knew every shelf at Morrow House better than I did.

But Elias had been my best friend since we were ten. He'd patched my knees on the cliffs behind Bellwether Bay, carried my books when my wrist was broken, and sat beside me in the hospital when my mother died. By the time I was twenty-six, I knew his footsteps better than my own.

I took the bowl.

The east room was empty. The fox's enclosure stood open, its bedding stripped for cleaning. I called for Tessa, but the wind rattled the old glass and swallowed my voice. A paper tag had been tied to the latch. The ink had run, leaving only a few letters visible: S...E...R...P.

I carried the bowl back to the aisle.

The black serpent lifted its head. I glanced at the label. The blue bowl held mashed fish, powdered kelp, and a pale, sweet-smelling syrup. The snake's usual food was thawed mice. I knew that much. But the serpent had refused everything for days, and the blue bowl smelled rich enough to wake the dead.

I remembered Elias saying he'd handle it.

Then I remembered the serpent's ribs, each one sharply outlined beneath its dull scales.

"Just a taste," I told it.

The snake slid forward and lapped up the syrup. When it finished, I gave it the rest of the fish mash, one careful spoonful at a time. Its scales stopped looking like damp stone and began to catch the light.

Tessa found me an hour later.

"Where's the fox's morning supplement?" She was a narrow-shouldered woman with a silver barrette and a permanent crease between her eyebrows. She stared at the empty bowl in my hands.

"I fed it."

"Which one?"

"The black serpent."

Tessa's face drained of color. "That was the fox's recovery mix."

"I thought Elias had moved the rooms. The fox wasn't there."

She hurried to the east room. I followed her. The fox sat under a shelf, trembling so hard its wings shivered against the stone floor.

Tessa gathered it into her arms. "It needs the supplement before the trial."

"Can I make another?"

"There isn't enough time to prepare it."

Elias appeared behind us, his expression already arranged into concern. He looked at the fox, then the bowl, then me.

"You fed the serpent the recovery mix?"

"I thought—"

"You said you'd checked the label," he interrupted.

I had not said that. I had not checked the label.

Tessa looked at Elias. "You told her to bring it."

"I thought she knew which enclosure needed it."

The words landed with more force than a shout. I saw the tiny movement of his jaw, the quick glance toward the ceiling where the trial bell hung.

I wanted to defend him for being rushed. I wanted to believe he would explain the confusion once we were alone.

Instead, Tessa carried the fox toward the infirmary.

The serpent followed the sound of her steps, dragging its long body out of the enclosure. It was no longer dull and skeletal. Its belly rested heavy against the floor.

The bell rang.

Elias rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, Mara. I should've been clearer. But you'll have to tell the review team it was your call."

"Why?"

"Because you made it."

I looked at the blue bowl in my hand. Behind us, the serpent opened its mouth, showing a small, bright forked tongue.

I had made a mistake. That part was true.

I had not yet learned that Elias had made one, too.

*****