by Eva Chase
Already planning on it. She nuzzled my fingers. What did that blacksuit assistant have to say?
After everything, I’d almost forgotten why I’d come back to my room in the first place. I sat up, setting Deborah on my knee as I crossed my legs, and tugged open my purse. “Some stuff to do with my mother—my birth mother. I made a random remark about not knowing much about my Bloodstone parents, and I guess she figured it’d be helpful.”
Even though it was hard to think of anyone except the parents I remembered, the joymancers who’d raised me nearly my entire life, as family, I had to admit I was kind of curious. I’d gotten a brief glimpse into my birth parents’ lives from a photo album I’d found at their country property nearby, but it hadn’t come with much context.
The phone was loaded not just with videos but also photos and music, what Lillian said in her note had been some of my mother’s favorite artists. I went to the videos first. They were grainy, the low quality you must have gotten with casual cameras a couple decades ago, but I could make out the action well enough. I held the screen where Deborah could see it too.
The first one was from a birthday celebration—someone’s twenty-first. My birth mother, her dark brown hair just a little longer than mine was right now and her make-up done with professional polish, clinked glasses with a man I recognized as my father from the photos I’d seen, a younger version of Lillian, and another guy sitting with them. “Let’s see who’s not afraid to do another round of shots,” she called out to laughter around the room.
That one reminded me uncomfortably of the fearmancer parties I’d navigated here, but the next video showed my mother in a garden I recognized as that country property, her dress still tailored but more casual, her smile bright as she motioned to whoever was holding the camera. “Just watch this!”
She spread her hands a few feet above a bare patch of ground. The soil trembled, and a sprout poked its way through. She urged the conjured plant up until it stood at her knee height, a vibrant blue flower opening at the peak of its stem.
“I wonder if Physicality was her focus,” I said. Watching her brought a tingle of recognition into my chest—the joy that came with creation. She’d felt it too.
Deborah made a humphing sound inside my head. Of course this friend would send all the happy videos. I’m sure plenty of death and destruction was edited out.
“We don’t actually know that my birth parents ever hurt anyone,” I said. “Badly, anyway.” Being a fearmancer meant you pretty much had to cause some distress on a regular basis to fuel your magic. We did know that some joymancers had been horribly violent toward my birth parents, so it wasn’t as if the capacity for violence didn’t exist on the other side. I’d seen the report on their deaths, photos and all—I was never going to get the images of those burnt bodies out of my head.
Violence wasn’t what I wanted for this place when I brought it down. All the sick practices and the sadistic behavior the fearmancers encouraged needed to stop, but I didn’t want anyone slaughtered.
The next video made my chest clench up. It was my mother in bed with an infant clasped tightly to her chest. An infant who must have been me. My mother’s hair was mussed and her face weary, but that didn’t diminish the happiness that shone through her expression.
“Say hi to Auntie Lillian,” she said in a teasing voice, turning me toward the camera. Then she pulled me back to her to kiss the top of my head.
An unexpected burn formed behind my eyes. For the very first time, looking at the woman I couldn’t remember, some part of me responded with a pang that said, Mom.
Lorelei? Deborah said. Are you sure you want to watch this—that it isn’t just going to upset you?
“It’s fine,” I said with a rasp. “I want to know.” Maybe this was only the good-parts version of my mother’s life, but… it meant something that there had been good parts.
It meant something that I’d lost the love I could see so clearly on the phone’s screen.
Chapter Thirteen
Connar
I was so focused on the event to come that I think Rory must have called my name at least twice before I heard her. I stopped where I’d just stepped into the woods around campus and turned with a mix of delight and concern. Delight that she was seeking me out at all, and concern about what might have made her feel she needed to.
She came to a stop by the first trees, her deep blue gaze serious as she studied me. She might have been even more wary now than the first time she’d stumbled on my clearing on the cliff over the lake. The thought made my stomach twist.
It was my fault. I’d betrayed her, not just once but over and over. That kind of wound could take a long time to heal.
“Where are you going?” she said abruptly. The warm breeze tickled past me and ruffled the dark waves of her hair. The leaves hissed together overhead.
For some reason it hadn’t occurred to me that she’d come to ask about my plans rather than to tell me something. My tongue stumbled. “I—what?”
She folded her arms over her chest. “Where are you going? I saw you head off this way a few days ago, and when I went after you, some super powerful ward shoved me back. What’s out here?”
Ah. Maybe I should have been amused that she hadn’t picked up on my trips into the forest sooner. A small part of me balked, but at the same time, my spirits lifted. This could be one more way for me to show her how open I’d be with her now—how much of my life I was willing to trust her with. And that might help her trust me more in turn.
If I didn’t terrify her, that was.
I beckoned for her to join me. “It’s nothing illicit. The wards are to make sure no Naries stumble on the spot—and some of us like to be sure of privacy in general.”
“Privacy for what?” she said, but she eased after me without hesitation. I had to remember that Rory didn’t terrify easily.
“Shifting.” My gaze veered away from her as I said the word. I was proud of my talent, make no mistake there, but it wasn’t something I generally talked about. Not many students had enough control over their powers to perform a full shift, and those who couldn’t sometimes got a little weird about those who could. “There’s a clearing set up out here for those of us who are capable of performing that magic, so that we can practice without being disturbed. Easier to keep the transformations hidden when we have a spot off in the woods.”
“Oh,” Rory said, sounding a little startled. “That makes sense. I didn’t even realize.” She paused and glanced over at me. “If you’d rather I wasn’t there, I don’t have to tag along. I’m sorry about the questions. There are just so many secret agendas at this place, I can’t help wondering when I see something odd.”
And that right there was what had made me fall for this girl. She had every reason to be suspicious of me, but the second she’d recognized that I wasn’t doing anything shady at this specific moment, she’d apologized and offered me whatever space I needed. She cared that much even after what I’d done to her. It just came naturally to her.
My throat tightened. I had to be able to pay her back for all the kindness she’d shown me, so much of which I’d thrown in her face before.
I stopped by the main ward. “Do you want to see me shift? I don’t really show off the skill very much, but… I don’t mind you watching. You might even appreciate my second form more than most do.”
Curiosity lit in her eyes. “What do you shift into?”
I couldn’t help grinning at her. “Come along, and you’ll find out.”
She made a face at me, but she came. When she’d passed the ward, I spoke a few words to activate it. It’d set off a chain reaction effect through other wards placed around the shifting grounds to create a ring of protection.
The clearing was only a few minutes’ walk farther. Sunlight streamed down into the open circle amid the trees, nearly a hundred metres in diameter. I soaked in its heat, letting the sensation loosen my muscles and melt away any worries I had. To perform the
shifting magic, I couldn’t be at all distracted—one of the other reasons we took so much care to make sure we weren’t disturbed.
Rory sat down with her back against a tree trunk at the edge of the clearing. Under her thoughtful gaze, another potential problem occurred to me. A sharper heat crept up my neck.
“I, ah, normally would get undressed for the transformation. I can shift clothes too, but it’s harder and not entirely pleasant…”
Rory blinked at me, and her cheeks pinked slightly. “Er. Well. I guess I have already seen all you’ve got to offer.” One eyebrow quirked up.
Sure, I’d been naked with her that once before, but we’d been naked together, not her watching me in a sort of performance. I debated with myself and then said, “I think I’ll maintain a little modesty.”
She laughed, and that reassured me enough that I started unbuttoning my shirt. I pulled it off, folded it, then made short work of my shoes, socks, and pants. The boxers could stay on. I didn’t need to put everything on display, and one piece of fabric wouldn’t be too hard to work with.
With the fresh air teasing over my chest and legs, I was abruptly aware of the picture I presented. Of how most other people reacted to my strength. Rory had trusted me to be gentle before. Did she still see that capacity in me, or only the brutality this body could inflict?
A fresh jolt of uncertainty shot through me, but I’d committed now. It’d be worse if I asked her to leave after inviting her here. I had to believe… that she’d see what this form really meant to me, the way she’d seen something good in me before.
It was strength, yes, but not the brutal kind. The power to protect, the power to rise above.
I dragged in a breath and lowered my head. When I spoke my casting word, the magic in my chest flared. I focused on its spread through my limbs and over my back, the burn of it up over my face.
With each wave of searing sensation, my muscles and bones stretched and expanded. The sinews ached with the now-familiar process. My jaw extended; my eyes moved farther apart. More heat burst in my back as new limbs sprouted, wings rising and unfurling with the breeze tingling over their surface.
My body shuddered and settled into its new shape. I peered down at Rory from twice my previous height, my clawed feet braced against the ground and my wings spread on either side of me. She stared up at me, her jaw gone slack.
I knew what she was seeing because I’d had to picture this form inch by inch for months before I’d been able to complete the shift. I knew it as well as my human reflection in the mirror.
A dragon stood before her, far more alive than the little sculpture she’d conjured, ruddy scales dappled with orange running along my throat and belly, purple across my wings. I didn’t dare move, my dragon heart thudding as I waited for the rest of her reaction.
Her mouth snapped shut. Her eyes were still wide, but a small smile crept across her lips, growing more with each passing second. “And you asked me if I liked dragons,” she said, her voice awed and amused and not terrified at all. Her hand rose to the neckline of her blouse, where the chain that held her glass dragon charm disappeared behind the fabric.
A dragon couldn’t really smile—and if I tried, it’d look more like I was baring my many impressive teeth. I could put on more of a show for her, though. I came out here not just to keep up my shifting practice but to work out my body in ways I couldn’t in human form.
I took a few broad steps backward and to the side, and then sprang toward the other end of the clearing. My wings caught on the breeze with a massive flap. I glided up to the level of the treetops and circled around, pulling off a roll I probably wouldn’t have bothered with if I hadn’t had an audience. Rory whooped in encouragement.
Bringing her here had been right. I should have known that for sure from the start. Even after she’d been angry with me, it’d only been for what I’d actually done, not for any vicious potential she imagined in me like even Declan and Jude clearly did sometimes.
I flew several circuits of the clearing until the first prickling started to spread over my skin. I could have fought against it and held the shift for several minutes longer, but the warning sensation would only escalate from discomfort to actual pain. Rory had gotten a good show already.
I came back to earth and rolled my joints a few times before I released the magic. That first moment, when my body collapsed in on itself, always sparked a flicker of panic before I caught my balance and control. I contracted the rest of the way into my natural form as easily as breathing.
Rory’s face was still lit with wonder. “My mentor told me people could shift a lot larger than their human bodies, but it never occurred to me—I didn’t think—” She laughed again. “That was amazing.”
“Not horrifying?” I said in what I meant to be a teasing tone, but maybe some other emotion leaked into it.
Her expression turned more serious as she watched me pull my clothes back on. “Not at all. Anyone who thinks you’re horrifying like that needs to have their eyes checked.” She glanced around the clearing. “This isn’t much space for you. Do you ever get to really fly?”
“Back at the main Stormhurst home, there’s a hilly area where I can cruise around without worrying about being seen.”
“I’m glad you have somewhere.” Her voice softened. “Thank you for letting me see.”
“Now you know all my secrets,” I said with a crooked smile. I sat down a few feet away from her, my feet still bare in the soft grass. After a shift, it was nice to take a little while to linger here until the dragon impressions completely faded away.
At the tensing of her mouth, I regretted that flippant comment instantly.
“Not all of them,” she said in the same quiet tone. “Connar… Will you tell me what happened with your brother? I want to hear it from you, not go by rumors.”
Of course she did. And asking this couldn’t have been more fair of her. Still, I closed my eyes against the rush of guilt that rose up even at the mention of Holden.
I’d told myself I wanted to show her how open I could be. How could she ever trust me completely if I wouldn’t own up to the past horrors I’d inflicted? If the truth meant she never trusted me at all, then that was my own damn fault.
She’d seen the beauty in my dragon, but there wasn’t anything pretty in this story.
“What do you already know?” I asked. My voice came out raw.
“What I heard is that you have a twin brother, and the two of you had some kind of… fight, and he never ended up coming to the university.”
“That’s all true.” I forced myself to look at her. I deserved to see her reaction as it played out in the moment. “I have a twin brother named Holden. Non-identical, not that you’d ever need to worry about confusing us these days.” I exhaled shakily. “It was always going to be a complicated situation. The inheritance of the barony is usually decided by seniority, but when you’re only a couple of minutes apart, that’s not considered enough of a deciding factor.”
Rory knit her brow. “So you were expected to fight it out?”
“Not exactly. Even with siblings who are farther apart in age, occasionally the older one abdicates because they don’t really want to rule, or they feel their younger sibling will do a better job… We should have had lots of time to decide. I don’t think either of us was really in any position to hash it out before we’d even come into our magic, and it’s going to be more than fifteen years still before my mother ages out and anyone needs to take over.”
My fingers twisted into a patch of grass. The violence had been so stupid, stupid and pointless.
Rory watched me quietly until I was ready to continue.
“My parents… are very competitive,” I said. “If you’ve heard about my brother, you’ve probably also heard that my mother wasn’t the original heir to the Stormhurst barony either. She grabbed it from my uncle.”
Rory inclined her head. “That part did get mentioned too.”
“I guess it
must have really gnawed at them, the two of us having equal claim—not knowing who the real heir was. They wanted to know who was stronger as soon as possible. Or maybe they just enjoyed jerking us around… Anyway, pretty much from the moment my mother took over the barony, she and my father started pushing Holden and me into conflicts. Setting up little competitions where only one of us could get a reward. Punishing both of us if one of us made a mistake. Showering one of us with attention while completely ignoring the other one day, and switching it up the next. Having a brother started to feel like a punishment in itself.”
“That’s awful,” Rory said. Her eyes had widened again, but not with any kind of awe this time.
“There are worse parents. I’m not sure I’d have been better off with Malcolm’s, for example.” I grimaced. “But, even with all that, my brother and I didn’t really want to fight with each other. We knew our parents were the real ones at fault. And they hated that we didn’t hate each other. So as it got closer to our fifteenth birthdays when our magic would show up soon, they kept ramping up their efforts.”
I had to pause for a second to brace myself against the memories. “In the end, they shut us in the attic together. It’s like a greenhouse up there in the summer, and they didn’t turn on the air conditioning. They barely gave us any food or water, and what they did give us always tasted funny…” My impressions of that time were hazy, a mass of sweat and dizziness and a hollow stomach, powdery sensation on my tongue, buzzing in my brain. “They told us neither of us could come down until the other couldn’t come down.”
I’d thought Rory would recoil as I told the story. Instead, she eased across the grass to clasp my hand. The compassion in that contact wrenched at me.
“I think we’d been up there maybe a week when it happened,” I said, willing my voice not to falter. “They’d been messing with our sleep too, conjured noises at random intervals to startle us awake. And that night—or maybe it was day, my mind was pretty jumbled by then—I heard Holden’s voice shouting me awake every time I started to drift off. I was so fucking tired and starving and dizzy with the heat… I snapped. I don’t remember what I was thinking; I just remember hitting him, so hard, as hard as I could so that he would just stop. So that it would all stop.”