"Wait? You're on her side now? I thought you were mad at her back at the house?" asked Zayn.
"Girls stick together," said Skylar with a wink. "And I lent her one of my dresses, which practically makes us sisters now."
"It's nice to see you wearing some fashionable clothes again," said Zayn.
As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he'd said the wrong thing as her nostrils flared like a bull ready to charge. He shook his head.
"I'm an idiot. What I meant is that you really enjoy fashion, or you did, and it's good to see you getting out," said Zayn.
Her lips curled. "You're not improving anything."
Zayn slapped his palm on his forehead. "I guess I'm saying when you came back from the summer, you seemed really mad about those people that came into your store. Look, if you're past that, whatever you're doing, I support you."
Skylar arched a delicate eyebrow. "I'll give you a four out of ten. But you're trying."
"Thanks, I guess."
After a slight shake of the head, she puffed up her cheeks, then blew them out. "I shouldn't bust your balls like that. I'm not being completely honest about what happened last summer."
He nodded to indicate she should go on.
"I was having the time of my life at the boutique. Sales were good, my designs were bringing in new customers. Everything was great until that stupid Giovanni Portellenne walked past my store."
"This is the point where you explain who Giovanni Portabella Mushroom is," said Zayn.
Her eyes widened with horror. "You don't know who he is? He's only the most famous designer in the world."
Zayn shrugged. "I'm just a small-town kid from Varna."
"Anyway," she continued. "As soon as I saw him walk by my store, I ran out and asked him if he wanted to look at my designs. He was annoyed by my interruption, but I knew he loved finding new talent, so he allowed me to bring out one piece that represented my style. Ecstatic, I brought him a silken floral petticoat that I thought was my best piece. He took one look at it and said in his haughty voice, 'That is nothing but derivative trash, my dear. I would rather put a trash bag on one of my models than allow them to wear that.'"
Skylar's eyes rounded with sadness with a touch of anger flaring her nostrils. The fact that she'd memorized not only his words but the tone told Zayn how deeply his feedback had been ingrained.
"What a jerk. He's totally wrong," said Zayn.
"No," said Skylar. "He's totally right. Once I took a look at the stuff from his catalog, I found similar pieces from a couple of years ago, and they'd been trashed by the trendsetters then. Why did I think it would work now?"
"Can't you make some new pieces? Like that shadow cloak you saved us with in the Eternal City?" asked Zayn.
Skylar stared into her drink with her lips squeezed to one side. "After Giovanni I just didn't have it in me to work on anything else. I guess I'm not as good at fashion as I thought I was."
"I think you're amazing," said Zayn. "And didn't you say that Giovanni made the same petticoat years ago? If he can make mistakes, why can't you?"
A light twinkled in her eyes before turning dark again. "He's got decades of experience, while I'm a newb."
"My dad says that experience is only when you've made all the mistakes you can make in a narrow field. He's an amazing artist, but I've seen his fair share of mistakes too," said Zayn.
Skylar raised an eyebrow. "Is that why you throw yourself into things without thinking? Trying to make all the mistakes you can?"
"Yeah, sort of, though I think it's a little different with the Academy. I need to survive my stupidity to learn. I've been lucky so far." He looked back to Skylar. "Or more appropriately, I've had great support from my teammates."
"You've got that right," said Skylar, who was trying to smile, even if it didn't reach her eyes.
Zayn clinked his glass against hers. "I hope you don't give up. I think you can do amazing things."
They drank to his toast and had settled into a quiet moment of reflection when Skylar said, "Do you hear screaming?"
"It's not Petri...but I think we'd better check that out," said Zayn.
Together they pushed their way into the levitation rooms. Petri was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, glowering at the ceiling. A small pile of electronics was scattered around her shoes as if a cell phone had been torn apart.
"Are you okay?"
"Fine," she said even though it was clear she was not.
The screaming was coming from the ceiling about fifty feet up. A guy in a mauve company shirt was upside down with his shoes stuck on the ceiling.
"Help, please, I'm sorry, get me down."
"What happened?" asked Skylar.
"I drank the potion and was flying around, when I looked down to find him taking pictures up my skirt," said Petri, face flushed with anger.
"Oh really?" asked Skylar, joining Petri in scowling at the ceiling.
"How did you stick him up there?" asked Zayn.
"When I pulled his phone out of his pocket, I found a bottle of Universal Temporary Glue he used to stick his Bluetooth camera on the wall," said Petri.
Skylar picked up the bottle, which was on the floor, and read: "Glue works perfectly for thirty minutes."
"Well then, I guess he only has another twenty-five to live," said Petri, nostrils flaring.
"Skylar, can you take her back to the other room while I deal with this guy?" asked Zayn.
"He's lucky I didn't pull his entrails out through his mouth," said Petri as Skylar led her towards the pulsing music.
Zayn found the levitation potions on a table outside the room. He shoved one in his pocket, drank another, and immediately got a head rush that made him dizzy. He floated a few inches above the ground.
Using a swimming motion, Zayn propelled himself towards the ceiling.
"Oh, thank you, thank you," said the attendant. "I thought she was going to let me fall."
With his hand holding him in place against the ceiling, Zayn said, "You're lucky I don't drop you on your head. You're disgusting."
"It was only a joke," said the guy.
"No, it wasn't," said Zayn, thinking about leaving him up here and getting the manager, but he decided he didn't want the complications.
After releasing him from his shoes, Zayn floated him back down. As he sat him down, Zayn realized the guy was a decent size and probably lifted weights.
"She broke my phone," said the attendant, dejected.
"You're lucky that's all she broke," said Zayn. "How'd a girl her size do that to you?"
His eyes widened to whites. "I don't know, man. What is she? I thought she was going to break me in half for a moment. I felt like a child when she grabbed me."
"You are a child," said Zayn, opening the guy's wallet that he'd taken on the way down and pulling out his driver's license. "And here's what you're going to do, Chad Slyman. You're going to quit your job here right now, and go home immediately. Then you're going to go get help, therapy, whatever. You decide. If I find out you haven't been following my directions, I will make a visit to your house and show you the error of your ways and it will involve your entrails. So go, now."
Zayn produced a ball of flame in his hand to remind him of the consequences.
"What about my shoes?" asked Chad, pointing to the ceiling.
"Go," said Zayn, making the flame burn brighter. "Now."
Chad hesitantly grabbed his license and wallet, before fleeing through the party. Zayn hoped there was broken glass on the way out.
He found the girls at the bar doing shots that glowed like radioactive liquid. Petri seemed to have recovered from the pervert, and as he grabbed a new drink, they ran onto the dance floor, lost to the crowd, leaving him alone.
Zayn leaned against the bar and thought about what Chad had said about her supernatural strength. He should have suspected that Petri wasn't just a normal girl based on her aunt Snow Owl on an Old Grave, but he didn't know what to make of it. H
is best guess about Amber was that she was a powerful witch, and maybe Petri was a young witch. But witches tended to join the Hundred Halls, unless they had another way to protect themselves from faez madness. He didn't think it was going to be a problem, as Petri had been pretty low-key so far, but he would keep an eye on her just in case.
When he was finished with his drink, Zayn joined them on the dance floor. One of the benefits of being an Academy mage was the imbuements let him experience the music deeper than normal people, and allowed him to dance for hours, though his muscles would pay for it later.
The three of them danced until the club closed, and they stumbled back to the train station arm in arm. Almost as soon as they sat on the benches, Petri slumped over, laying her head on Zayn's lap, and fell asleep.
Skylar, who had her head leaned against the opposite wall, eyes half-lidded from the long night, raised an interested eyebrow, but Zayn shook her off. He was definitely not getting involved with Amber's niece.
Zayn carried Petri back to the house. She was light as a feather, and kept her arms curled around his neck, making mewling noises the whole way back. Despite the night of dancing and sweating, she smelled sweet.
When they returned, the lights were still on. Keelan greeted them at the door, eyes wide with excitement.
Zayn carried Petri to her room and tucked her into her bed before returning downstairs. Keelan grabbed his arm right away, holding his finger over his mouth for silence, and dragged him to the kitchen.
Then Keelan crouched before the cabinets, hooked his fingers under a wooden door, and tugged the whole thing forward. Rather than the door opening, the whole cabinet slid into the center of the room. Keelan indicated Zayn should peek over the edge, and when he did, he was rewarded with the sight of a tunnel going into the earth. The lip of the tunnel had runes around the edges that kept it hidden from magical detection.
Once Zayn had seen the tunnel, Keelan pushed the cabinet back and led him outside to the patio.
After activating a privacy charm, Keelan said, "It's safe to talk out here."
"No wonder we couldn't stop him from getting into the house, he had a secret way built in," said Zayn.
"I should have realized it before," said Keelan, shaking his head. "The best grifts are a setup. The instructors tricked us by giving us this house with a tunnel already built in."
"That's pretty crappy," said Zayn.
"No, it's not," said Keelan, eyes alit. "It's quite brilliant, actually. Because we can be told something time and time again, but learning it this way, wow, I'll never trust another place again."
"What are we going to do about Instructor Minoan?" asked Zayn.
Keelan put his hand to his chin. "Nothing, yet. I went into the tunnel a ways. It leads to the sewer system, which branches out in so many directions that he could be coming from anywhere. But next time he breaks into the house, we'll follow him back to wherever he's coming from and deal with him."
"Sounds like a plan," said Zayn, breaking into a stretch and a yawn. "I'm ready to sleep a few hours before sparring class with Allgood."
On the way inside, Keelan said, "I'm really sorry about this summer. I should have told you we were moving into the Gardens before we did."
"I understand," said Zayn, thinking about telling his cousin about the Lady's offer, but deciding it was too late for more serious talk. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I said some terrible things. I'm sorry."
They shared a fist bump and went into their separate rooms. As tired as he was, the instant his head hit the pillow, he was wide awake again with thoughts about Varna. Half the year had passed and he was no closer to deciding what his answer was to the Lady's question.
Chapter Seventeen
The Honeycomb, January 2016
Waking the Sleeper
"Can anyone tell me what a sleeper agent is?" asked Instructor Konig, smoothing his mustache as he paced around the center of the room.
"Zayn, when he missed class last semester," said Sofia, bringing laughter from the others.
Zayn stuck his tongue out at Sofia, who winked back. She'd given up actively trying to sleep with him, but kept up her playful flirting.
"A human asset," said Portia, who had raised her hand, "that is placed within an organization to be activated at a later date."
"Excellent," said Instructor Konig. "In this day and age, with ubiquitous magic invading every facet of life, and giving anyone with ample money or power the ability to foresee attempts on their life, wouldn't a sleeper agent be a wonderful way to get past that problem?"
Zayn nodded along with his class. He found himself edging forward as if this lesson was meant for him and him alone.
"Imagine," said Instructor Konig, holding his hands out as if he were telling a thrilling story, "the lone assassin, supplanted deep inside the enemy's network until the moment the code word is given, and then they spring into action, silencing their target forever!"
He raised his hands in victory, making "ohh" and "ahh" crowd noises. The class chuckled, which brought a smile to Zayn’s lips. Beneath his beige exterior, Instructor Konig had an infectious enthusiasm that had slowly, but eventually, won the class over. He didn't have the style or gravitas of the other teachers, but he knew his stuff, and Zayn appreciated that. Not all magic in the Academy was going to be flashy.
"Sadly," said the instructor, "sleeper agents don't work. Does anyone know why this is?"
Zayn looked around at his classmates. He hadn't been reading ahead. There was already too much work and he'd resorted to using the no-sleep imbuement trick to get by the last few weeks, but Portia raised her hand again.
"Because hiding specific knowledge from a person's own brain creates unintended consequences," said Portia.
"Yes," said Instructor Konig, clapping his hands together once. "When you try and restrict that knowledge from the waking mind, it ends up causing other things to get lost within the spell. Your memories and thoughts are a web that creates the person that is you. If you cut parts away, or hide them, it disrupts the whole thing. But better than explaining this concept, you're going to experience it.
"Before class, I got permission from one of you to be the sleeper agent"—Instructor Konig made air quotes and spoke in a heavy voice—"but of course, this individual is not actively aware of the fact that they are."
Zayn looked around at his fellow third years. Everyone had conspiratorial expressions. He searched his own mind to see if he could find evidence that he might be the sleeper agent, but as far as he could tell, he wasn't it.
"I see by the looks on your faces that you're wondering if you are the sleeper agent. You might be. Or you might not. That's what you get to find out. I want you to talk to your classmates, ask them questions, try to figure out who it is. Try to find gaps in their knowledge, things they should know, but can't seem to remember. At the end, once everyone has decided, I'll let you know who the real sleeper agent is. You have an hour!"
A general commotion followed as everyone paired up. Zayn tried to talk to Portia, but Charla had already grabbed her. Then Vin tapped him on the shoulder.
"Are you the sleeper agent?" he asked, stroking his chin for comic effect.
"No, I am not. Are you?" asked Zayn.
"Nope," said Vin. "Well, I guess that covers it."
"Nice try, Agent Sleep. Where were you last summer?"
Vin made shifty eyes. "Up to my neck in crocodiles and PAC money, while looking one hundred percent fly. What about you?"
"Doing small-town things in a small town," said Zayn.
"That's little vague, Mr. Agent. Why don't you elaborate," said Vin.
Zayn sighed. "Mostly helping out around the house, fixing my sister's food truck, helping Doc at the junkyard."
Vin held his hand and out and rocked it back and forth. "You might be, Zayn. You might."
He was about to ask another question when Marla grabbed Vin, and before he could look for anyone else, Sofia was standing near him, smel
ling like a goddess.
"Hey, Zayn," said Sofia in an unusually sweet voice. "How are you?"
Zayn blocked his smelling sense using his imbuement. "Another busy year."
She placed a hand on his arm, softly stroking it until he had to repress a chill. "So I know it's been a while, but I was wondering if you wanted to go out on a date sometime?"
"Aren't we supposed to be figuring out who the sleeper agent is?" he asked.
She fluttered her eyes. "Maybe I am. Maybe whatever Instructor Konig did to you made you forget that you're supposed to be turning me down."
"It's not that I'm not interested, but I'm trying to stay focused on the Academy," he said.
"It's a start," she said with a wink.
Remembering that he was trying to figure out who the sleeper agent was, he asked, "So what were you doing before class?"
Sofia paused, fluttered her eyes for a moment. "I...I was doing the same thing I do every morning, naked yoga. I find it's the best way to start the day."
He couldn't decide if her hesitation was purposeful, or if she really didn't remember and filled in with something flirty. Before he could ask another question, Keelan tapped on Sofia's shoulder.
The rest of the hour proceeded in a similar fashion. As it wound down to the end, Zayn found Sofia again. He had a suspicion and wanted to test it. If Konig had met with her before class and made her the sleeper agent, then anything tied to her morning ritual might be affected.
"Hey Sofia, thanks again for lending me those yoga videos this morning. I really enjoyed them."
Sofia's mouth opened halfway as the corners of her eyes crinkled with thought. "I did?"
She looked around, before wandering off in a daze, and not long after that Instructor Konig called time.
Standing in front of the class, the instructor said, "Alright, I hope everyone has decided. I'm going to count to three, and on three, I want everyone to shout out who they think the sleeper agent is.
"Get ready. One, two, three!"
A chorus of "Sofia" filled the room. There were a handful of other names, and Vin said his own name, but the general consensus was on the Brazilian.
The Reluctant Assassin Boxset Page 60