by Lucy Auburn
Wyatt holds up a hand as we near the cleaved foundation of the castle, and the rest of us stop abruptly. "Let me ch-check it out."
I watch him pace through the open grounds of the bottom floor of the castle, which is strangely somehow still beautiful and romantic, despite missing half of its structure. He doesn't find anything of note, and moves on to the rest of the castle. The staircase up to the second floor has been cleaved in half, which makes it unwieldy to get up. Instead Wyatt walks over to the room with the lowest ceiling, grabs a table, pulls it over like it weighs nothing, and climbs on top. Reaching up to the second floor, he pulls himself up and over, muscles rippling with incredible strength.
"And that's with his powers dampened," Grayson says, sounding amused. "If anyone could cut this castle in half, it'd be him. It'd probably open a hole in the space-time continuum, though."
My mind whirs at the thought, and I reach in to grab the blood ring the Black Serpent had, wondering if what I'm thinking is possible. "Could he have done it himself? The Black Serpent, I mean. Maybe to weaken this place and somehow..."
"Get out? He wouldn't have been able to do it, though."
"He had that ring. Maybe it wasn't the only magical item in the castle. There was a sword on the wall in the ballroom... I'm being stupid, though. You'd need a bolt of lightning or a knife made out of wind to do something like this. It probably was Brutus."
"Probably."
In front of us, Levi gets bored and starts wandering through the empty foundation of the castle, kicking at spots where the walls used to be. Observing a spot that's been taken down to the foundation, he crouches down and wipes his finger across the dust, then makes a strange face.
"What is it?" Reluctantly dropping Grayson's hand, I pace over to join him, watching him—and trying not to think about the way Grayson must be adjusting his weight, putting more on the cane again, his face closing off in that pained way that I used to think was just a part of him. "Don't tell me you've actually figured something out."
"It's portal dust," he says, holding up his fingertip towards me. I blink at him in confusion. "This castle wasn't just sheered in half."
Mason, observing us, finishes the thought, "Half of it was transferred somewhere else. Another dimension."
"Yep." Bizarrely, Levi sticks his dusty finger in his mouth, then nods decisively. "Definitely portal dust. It tastes like other places. Someone must have wanted to move him, and they did it a very, uh... flashy way. I doubt he's here anymore. Whoever took him probably isn't, either—they would've gone with the half of the castle they took."
Pacing towards us, Grayson wryly says, "So you are useful for something after all."
"Hey!" Levi glares up at him. "I'm the one who showed you those stretches for your leg that you claimed reduced the pain by seven to eleven percent. You should be more grateful."
"That you're not a complete idiot all the time? Thanks, Levi." Grayson leans forward, putting his weight on the cane and staring down at the shorn wall. "I bet there's someone in the Shadow Fold who can track where this place was taken. Of course, that'd mean bringing them here... unless we bring the dust to them."
"Eve can help," I theorize, though really I have no idea if she can or not. "Let's get enough of the stuff to take it somewhere. There's gotta be some kind of bowl or glass or something in what's left of the kitchen that we can use to get it."
As if on cue, Penny, who's been trotting through the bottom half of the castle this whole time, walks into the storage closet and knocks a broom over. A glass jar rolls towards us and come to a stop, like magic.
"Or we can use that."
"I'll tell Wyatt," Levi says, leaping to his feet. "He'll want to get down here and help, and I'm sure he hasn't found anything interesting up there."
He paces over to the staircase, feet somehow echoing in the space despite the complete lack of walls around him. Gracefully clambering up the stairs, he leaps across the gaps in them by grabbing onto the banister and swinging, his movements light and precise, feet landing with ease.
Grayson watches me watch Levi and raises his brows. "Thinking about how flexible your other lover is?"
"Just wondering how he makes so much noise," I murmur, cheeks heating as I grab up the jar, trying to ignore the expression Mason is attempting but failing to hide. "Levi is half monkey, I'm pretty sure."
"He certainly has the brain capacity of one."
But Grayson doesn't sound bitter or envious—just the same old Grayson, gleefully ragging on one of his closest friends like it's a day that ends in Y. And while Mason grimaces a little, he wipes the expression off his face as fast as it appears, clearing his throat.
"Let's get this done and get out of here," he says, brushing some of the dust up with his fingertips. "This place was already creepy before now. I don't want to stick around any longer. Especially if whoever did this might return."
Levi and Wyatt rejoin us, and I get up and stretch. "You guys finish up here. I'm going to go... look for the Black Serpent. Just in case. I won't go anywhere dangerous–I'll give a holler if I see anything. It's not a big place, after all."
As Mason opens his mouth to object, Grayson steps in. "I'll go with you. Not like I can crouch on the ground gathering dust anyway. Bad leg is acting up. If someone unsavory comes up, we'll just use your Conduit-boosting powers and I'll make them do backflips until reinforcements arrive."
This doesn't seem to completely reassure Mason's overprotectiveness, but he knows he can't object without offending his friend. Grayson's bad leg is a sore spot—and nothing he wants anyone to believe holds him back. He nods sharply, and the three of them set to gathering the fine, delicate powder, while Grayson and I walk along the length of the castle grounds, heading towards the spot where the fountain was—or is. It turns out that it wasn't taken when the rest of this place was cracked open like an egg.
"I wonder if it would work on someone who isn't from that asshole fancy ass family or whatever," Grayson says as the water comes into view. "Probably not. Knowing our luck."
"You could try," I say, though inwardly, I doubt the sparkling water will do anything. "From what I saw, it only took the poison from him. And I never got close to the water myself. Too worried it was some kind of trap."
"I would probably drown in it." He leans towards the pool, staring down into his own reflection. "It's funny—you're the powerless one now, but I'm still the burden, as always. No offense or anything."
"None taken." Swallowing, I admit, "I'm not even sure how I feel anymore about my powers being taken away. I thought for sure I wanted them back—I can feel this hole inside without them, like someone scooped out a bit of my innards with an ice cream cone."
"Gross. But descriptive."
"Earlier, though, when Covington basically made me use my powers... I went blind for just a second. And I felt so helpless. I was terrified my sight would never come back." Crossing my arms, I join him at the water's edge, and see a coward reflected back in my wavering face in the water. "Funny how quickly things change."
"Our weakness aren't fair. Not that they're meant to be."
Considering what Eve told me about herself, I murmur, "I don't know about that. Sometimes... sometimes it feels like they're a joke from fate. But other times it's like they're twisting in the knife. Levi's weakness seems like nothing until you realize he lost what he cared about most when he lost the ability to sneak around."
"His sister," Grayson murmurs, and I can't hide my surprise. He raises his brows and sighs. "Ah, he hadn't told you. I guess I just assumed your pillow talk had migrated to serious subjects."
"The most serious subject Levi discusses is whether or not pistachio ice cream is underrated." Clearing my throat, I admit, "I also haven't really given him a chance to talk about himself. I've been too busy using our alone time as some kind of a distraction."
"Well. I guess I won't mention any further. And you should pretend like you didn't hear what I said." Fat chance of that. "As far as ou
r weaknesses go—I don't know about your blindness being fitting for any reason. But my leg does have a certain amount of poetry to it. Before my first kill, I was a track and field runner. And no one looked up to me more than the brother I killed the day he murdered our whole family. The one thing about me he actually loved was taken away, and in exchange, I was given an ability that would've let me save them all—too late for it to matter."
Thinking back, I realize aloud, "I used to paint. Before Jack came along. He said you're only allowed to have one foolish artistic dream, so it was acting or painting. Both are pretty hard when you can't see."
"Lady Fate is epically mean to us." He tapes his cane against the side of his leg, lips twisting. "You'll figure it out if you do get your powers back, though. Sometimes when I think about running freely with the wind around me, feet hitting the ground without pain, it feels more like a dream than reality. I'm not that person anymore. I don't know who I would be if I were."
Twining my fingers with his, I softly suggest, "You can always find out. From time to time... if you need to."
"I know." His head dips down towards mine, his pale blue eyes taking me in, their ice just as cool as they ever were, but somehow warm to me. "Thankfully our connection will work on your weakness, too. I'd hate to think of how empty your life would be if you could never look at this handsome face of mine again."
Groaning, I mutter, "Levi is rubbing off on you in the worst way."
"Kiss me, and maybe you'll kiss his influence off of me and replace it with yours."
"I was planning on it."
Our kiss is soft, gentle, starting with the barest hesitance and deepening into something we share, neither of us taking over or pushing. He drops his cane, leaning it up against the edge of the fountain, and takes my other hand in his, fingers sweet and gentle, touch like the barest caress.
I know we'll have to part eventually.
But for as long as I'm able, I lean into Grayson's touch, admitting to myself that I don't just want him anymore.
I need him, the way I need air and water, good food and bright laughter.
He kisses me until all my cares and troubles melt away. Until I'm trembling, just a little. Until I ache for something more.
Then he parts his lips from mine, stares down into my face, and ruefully observes, "The others will be expecting us back by now."
"Let them wait," I urge him. "I want more of this moment with you."
So we take a moment. And another, then a dozen more, until it feels like time is on our side, sitting with us by the fountain, letting us breathe deep without pain and worry.
Until we can't anymore.
Voices are calling for us. Looking for us.
Expecting us to do something besides grab each other tightly and hold on for eternity.
Grayson grabs his cane and murmurs, "Here we go."
It hurts to pull back, to drop our hands from each other, and head towards reality again, no longer touching. I know it hurts him more than me, though. Especially because I reach for him, and he pulls away with a bitter twist of his lips.
"No more of that," he says roughly, softly, through what must be a lump in his throat. "Any more touching you and I'll never be able to let go."
It's for the best, I decide, even though it makes me nauseous to watch him struggle with his cane, face falling into a pinched and pained expression again.
Grayson isn't the one at risk of becoming addicted to our shared touch and bitter bonding over fate's cruelty.
I might not be able to let him go if he doesn't stop me.
Chapter 9
After five days of trying to get my powers back, and achieving nothing except a gentle breeze that may have just been Levi farting, I'm starting to feel frayed at the edges. It doesn't help that classes have started up, and other than my daily sessions with Covington, all of mine are combat classes that just remind me how powerless I am.
It feels like I don't belong. Which just makes the guys reassure me that I do, which only makes me feel even more like I don't belong. None of the other grad students here have to be reassured so constantly. Even I'm starting to get annoyed with myself.
Since my days are full and I'm always physically tired, I haven't really managed to advance my relationship with any of the guys since... well, since sleeping with Wyatt, or that long kiss with Grayson that felt like exquisite torture. Eve came back from her last mission and stayed around, which makes it hard to find alone time with the guys, and Headmaster Shu has converted the training arena into a strategy room for hunting down Brutus—so there goes my sandy sex dungeon.
About the only outlet I have for all my frustration and disappointment is Eve's target wall and her convenient stash of weapons to throw at it.
Thump. Thump. Thump. I'm getting closer and closer to hitting the bullseye consistently. It should cheer me up, but instead it just depresses me—none of this would be necessary if I could still use my powers. Thump.
"You need to get out more." Eve climbs up to the loft and leans against the far wall, watching me grab my knives, take several steps back, and throw another round. "You're more wound up than... I don't know, a watch with gears or some other analogy I can't think of."
I sigh. "I just can't stand all this waiting. I want to go find that Brutus bastard and take the fight to him, but nothing I've tried has panned out, and Headmaster Shu is being tight-lipped about her operation."
"Don't remind me of that thing you did where you went off to the Black Serpent's pocket dimension without even a head's up. As far as your current mood goes—maybe you should do some things that aren't related to your powers to get your mind off of it. All this pacing and throwing knives is great, don't get me wrong, big fan of it, but I bet you could find something more productive to do with your time."
I snort. "Like what?"
"Like oh, I dunno, take care of any of this mail." She walks over to my bed and, as I stand by wincing, pulls an entire stack of letters marked URGENT out from under the mattress. "I don't know why you made me do errands for you if you weren't going to check any of them. Don't you want to know what they're about?"
"I already know. It's about the house." Sucking in a deep breath, I let a knife fly from my hands, hitting the bullseye. It doesn't cheer me up. "Now that the police have ruled I wasn't involve with Bernard's murder, Herb's house is mine. And everything in it. Plus everything in the garage apartment. It's all just... my stuff now. Just like that."
"Isn't that good?"
"It's... I dunno. That's how it is."
Eve's face is sympathetic. "Look, you have to deal with some of this stuff. Houses like that come with taxes. You should know—you inherited your dad's family estate, right?"
"There's money in a trust to pay the taxes and upkeep on that place. Though the upkeep is mostly just the bare minimum—enough to keep the city from condemning it."
Sighing, I grab the knives out of the targets, but instead of getting ready for another round of throwing them, walk over to the weapons rack and replace them all. "I just don't want to have to look through Mom's stuff. Bernard was supposed to take care of sorting everything and donating stuff that didn't matter, and give me the rest, but he'd barely started it when I saw him at her funeral. I doubt he got any further before he died."
"Ellen. I know it's hard." Walking over, Eve squeezes my upper arm with gentle sympathy. "You can always take me with you if you need help. I just think... well. Has it ever occurred to you that the reason why your mom was killed might be somewhere in that house?"
I blink at her. "What do you mean?"
"She had to have known about your father," she points out. "And there's no reason why that killer would've randomly targeted her. Now that we know it was Marcus Junius Brutus, we know there must have been a reason. A big one. Maybe one that you can find if you go looking."
My pulse races. Bitterly, I ask her, "Are you suggesting my mom did something that got her killed?"
"I'm suggesting she knew m
ore than she let on, which I think we both know is true. And you can't hide out here forever, destroying my targets with knives. You need to get out into the real world for a bit, remind yourself what you're fighting for." Glancing over at Killer, who's curled up on my bed, she adds, "And pick up some dog food for that layabout. He already finished the bag I brought home. You've got money now from Herb—use it to buy him a dog bed while you're at it. Oh, and replace my milk in the fridge, and that vase you broke when you were being a dumbass with my staff last night."
I blow her sarcastic kisses. "You're so sweet, giving me errands to take my mind off things."
"You know I love you," she says, socking me in the arm, "and that's not a lie."
There's only one person I can imagine helping me out with my mother's stuff: Mason Kincaide. I don't know why, but it just fits my image of him in my head. He's the most emotionally centered of my Conduits, the only one who doesn't frustrate me with his antics—not that he never has his moments.
If I break down in Herb's house—in the house where I saw my mother's murder, where she died in my arms—Mason will know what to do.
That, and he's great at creating filing systems, the state of his room aside. He reorganized Instructor Abarra's office so thoroughly that she said she wished she could give him a commendation. Knowing how disorganized my mother was, and how much Herb indulged her worst habits out of love, I have the feeling that going through all her things will be difficult and time-consuming. Mason can help me figure out where to put it all and how to sort it.
"You sure you don't want extra help?" Grayson asks as we meet near the university gates to summon the doors and head off campus. "If you need to move heavy furniture, you should probably take Wyatt with you. And I'm great at reading legal documents—I wanted to become a lawyer, before... y'know."
"I'm good," I reassure him. "It'll be easier with just two of us. Less confusing to go over all the evidence when you don't have to repeat yourself. Besides, you have class today with Covington."
Mason adds, "I won't let anything happen to her."