by Eve Stone
Nope.
“Gwen, wait.”
“Why can’t you just go away, already?”
“I did that once, and I’ve regretted it ever sense.”
I spin around. “This isn’t fair, Tristan. I waited for years for you to write me back and you never did. Just when I’m finally moving on you show back up and expect me to forgive it all?”
“There’s nothing I can do about the past. I told you I stayed away for good reasons. Can’t that be enough?”
“No,” I say a little too harshly. “It’s not enough. You want me to keep giving when you’ve yet to give back. I’m done with it.”
“Name what you want and I’ll give it to you,” Tristan promises.
“Tell me why you stayed away.”
Tristan grimaces. “I can’t tell you that, Gwen. Anything else, I swear, but not that.”
I laugh humorlessly. “That’s the deal. You tell me that, or you leave me alone. I’m not willing to budge.”
He runs his hands through his black, unruly locks, looking torn. “Gwen, you don’t know what you’re asking.”
“And neither do you.”
We stay in a stalemate for several minutes, neither of us budging, until finally he does.
“Fine, but we need to go somewhere private.”
Without a word, I stalk down the hallway and end up in the same alcove where I overheard the chancellor and emperor speaking the other day. The same hidden closet I had hid in now taunted me. This very conversation is betraying Lance. I shake it off.
“Okay, spill,” I say, crossing my arms.
Tristan rocks back-and-forth on his heels, looking uncomfortable. His eyes avoid mine, and I can tell whatever is coming isn’t going to be good.
“I had every intention of going wherever you went, Gwen. But two months before I committed, my dad started acting shifty. He was taking calls and disappearing at all hours of the night and being really secretive. My mom was really bothered but tried to act like it was no big deal.”
“Your dad has always been like that,” I point out.
“You’re not wrong. My family has a lot of issues and you know that my parents don’t have the best relationship, but this is something different. He was seeing someone.”
My mouth forms an O, but secretly, I’m not surprised. Tristan’s father has always been flirtatious with people. He doesn’t hide it.
“The person he was seeing would’ve caused a lot of heartbreak to a family that I cared about.”
He still refuses to look at me. He’s being so evasive that it had me wonder…
“Was it Mrs. Druitt?”
It’s the only thing that made sense. Lance was tied to us, too. In fact, the three of us didn’t do anything without the other. It would completely tie up all loose ends and explain why he ghosted us both.
He shakes his head slowly. “No. As harsh as this might sound, that would’ve been easier.”
I purse my lips, trying to think about who he could be referring to. It has to be another family member from his mom’s side.
“Gwen, leave it alone.”
The way he says my name has me wondering if I should just drop it. Something feels wrong about all of this. The way he’s acting is so strange.
“Tell me.”
I have to know. Despite all of his warnings, I have to know the truth of why he left. That might be the only way I can truly move on.
“It was your mom.”
Shivers run the length of my back. “You’re lying,” I spit. “There’s no way my mother would ever do that to my father.”
“When my mom went through the phone bill, it was your mom’s number that he’d called. Every time.”
A tear slides down my eye. I don’t know if I believe it, but the thought breaks my heart. Unlike his parents, mine have always been so close. I might have issues with my dad, but my mom hasn’t.
“So you left? You didn’t even think about how I would feel if I found out?” I yell.
“I hoped you wouldn’t. I thought with me being gone, it could…”
“Could what? Get swept under the fucking rug?”
He runs both hands roughly through his hair.
“I was afraid you’d hate me when you found out.”
I laugh humorously. “You were a coward.”
“Yes. I knew Lance would be there for you. I thought I was doing what was best.”
“You’re right,” I scream. “I did have Lance. He’s always been there for me. But you,” I jab a finger in his direction. “You’ve only ever cared for yourself.”
I turn and run off. The need to get as far away from Tristan as possible is so intense my body shakes with every step I take. I’m not sure if it’s from the potential affair or his lack of caring for me that has me so upset, but either way, I feel broken. Tristan Locke should’ve never come here.
Chapter Seven
“Will our six champions please report to the auditorium? The rest of the student body should assemble at twelve o’clock sharp.”
Lance’s eyes meet mine across the room. I shrug my shoulders, signaling this wasn’t planned. I’m gathered with a group of students in the game hall. They play checkers, cards, and dice while I’m curled up on a chair reading my latest YA novel.
“Miss D’Morte, you better run along,” Professor Turner advises, walking by.
I stand, placing my book into my bag and heading to the hallway, where I’m met by Malory, the other Westoff champion.
“Hello,” I say in greeting.
She levels me with glacial stare, not returning my hello. Apparently, we are not going to be friendly.
“Okay then,” I say under my breath, making my way to the auditorium in silence.
Malory and I are the last ones to arrive. The others are seated in the front of the room, everyone silent and facing forward. I take the seat furthest away from Tristan.
“Ladies and gentlemen, as I’m sure you have gathered, the trials are about to begin. Tomorrow at sunrise, you’ll embark on the first of three trials,” Chancellor Andrews announces. “When you leave this room today, you’ll receive an envelope with instructions. Do not share the contents of your envelope with anyone outside of this room. Is that clear?”
We all nod.
“I need verbal confirmation,” he chastises.
We all call out “yes” in response.
“Good,” he pauses, steepling his fingers. “The contents of your envelope were put together by members of the council. Not even I know the subject of each.” He paused. “There is another matter to discuss. The council and I have decided that the stakes need to be higher. So, we’ve agreed to add additional champions to the fold.”
“What?” Galahad shouts. “Why?”
“The reward is great,” the Emperor says, walking onto the stage. “This is for Knighthood. It’s no insult to the faculties who chose each of you, but we must be sure that the best are represented.”
“You don’t think we’re the best,” Thomas says, making me cringe.
Based on the conversation I overheard, this is all happening because of an error they made placing him within the ranks.
“We believe that this group is strong and capable,” the Chancellor cut in, “But there were two additional candidates from each school who we believe deserved a chance to compete.”
“It’s only fair that the Chancellor and I have our say as well,” Emperor Lucius added.
“Who are the additional six?” Malory asks.
“You’ll find out after the first challenge.”
The Chancellor steps away from the microphone and descends the stairs. In his hands are white envelopes. He walks around the room, handing them out. When he gets to me, he calls out, “Remember you are not to discuss the contents of your envelope with anyone outside of this room.”
He hands me an envelope that has my name scrolled out in fancy calligraphy. I flip it over and begin to tear it open, but think better of it. Too many prying eyes. I wa
nt to be alone when I read the contents.
“You’re dismissed,” Lucius bellows.
I stand and hurry from the room, effectively avoiding Tristan.
When I get back to my room later that night, I sit Indian style on my bed and open the letter. A sense of unease envelopes me. I know once I read this, everything will change. Being named a champion hasn’t quite sunk in until this moment.
Knighthood is one of the most prestigious positions within the magical world, and as such I know whatever is contained in this envelope is not for the faint of heart. I start to read the letter aloud.
Your first task must be done alone and the contents within not to be shared with anyone.
“Alone?” I say out loud. That’s not what I expect in the slightest. The information on the Knight trials is very limited, but from the few things I gathered, it mainly consists of duels and other various combat challenges. The sole purpose of the Knights is to protect and to do so, they have to be in the best shape as well as have exceptional magical abilities.
I had not expected that we would be doing this alone. Perhaps this will be to my benefit. There is no way I could beat any one of the other champions in a duel. I had grown up with training in combat, but I’ve never excelled in it. I continue to read the note, needing more information.
If you accept this challenge you accept the consequences of disobedience.
Consequences? What would they do and how would this affect me? It’s not like they can strip nonexistent powers. Would I be banished? It’s happened before. The magical world can be brutal. You can’t hide a secret as big as magic from a world full of mortals without strict rules.
In the auditorium it was said that we weren’t allowed to share with anyone outside of that room. This contradicts that. Not that I want to strike up an alliance with any of them. Not yet.
Especially not Tristan.
Shaking off the thoughts of him, I continue through the letter.
Your first trial is to locate a book of spells. It’s not any ordinary book, but an ancient book of shadows. The book you seek is leather bound with orange script writing: Souveign Coven, embossed on the cover. You will need to use any means necessary to retrieve the book of spells. Remember, no one must know what you seek. Bring the book to the auditorium within seven days. At that time, you’ll receive your next challenge. Good luck.
Everything within me deflates. Clearly the book won’t be found sitting on a shelf in the library. That will be too easy. How will I find it when I have yet to harness my own abilities?
Exhaustion comes over me. From the fallout with Lance to Tristan’s return, I’m on overload. I have seven days to retrieve the book, and attempting to start now isn’t going to help. I need to develop a plan and I can’t do that as tired as I was. I hide the note underneath my mattress and lay my head on the pillow, but sleep doesn’t come. Flashbacks of my time with Tristan invade my mind, tormenting me.
“I got my acceptance today from Avalon, “I say with barely contained excitement.
“That’s great.”
I couldn’t help but notice that Tristan wouldn’t look at me. He shuffled his feet back and forth and his voice lacked all sincerity.
“What’s going on?” I asked, concerned about my friend.
“Nothing,” he snapped, turning from quiet and awkward to angry.
“Woah.”
I put my hands up in surrender. Tristan was never like this with me.
“What’s going on with you?”
“I just said nothing. Why don’t you mind your own business?”
I stumbled backwards, feeling as though he’d smacked me across the face. Ever since I’ve known Tristan, he’s never so much as raised his voice to me, let alone been this rude. I felt like I could vomit. All of the excitement I had felt moments ago drained from me. My bottom lip quivered, and unshed tears threatened to spill over.
He finally seemed to notice the effect his words were having on me as the fury was replaced with sorrow.
With his head and voice lowered he said, “I just have a lot going on. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“It’s okay,” I sniffled. “You know that you can always talk to me, right?”
He nodded. “I just need some space right now.”
“Alright,” I murmured, unable to say anything else.
I should’ve walked away at that point. He had made it clear he wasn’t in any mood to talk, but I pressed on.
“Did you get your letter from Avalon?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation in another direction.
No matter what was going on with him, there was absolutely no way he didn’t get into Avalon. Not with his family legacy. Whatever was bothering him had to of been something else and if I had to guess, it was everything to do with his father. Much like my father and I, theirs was a love-hate relationship.
His back straightened and he looked me right in the eye before crushing me with his next words.
“I decided not to go to Avalon.”
The reaction I had to this news was far worse than before. I didn’t feel like he had slapped me, I felt like he had sucker punched me right in the gut.
I laughed awkwardly, hoping like hell he wasn’t serious. “You’re kidding right?”
I wish I felt certain of his answer, but with the way he’d been acting today, I wasn’t so sure.
“Avalon was always your dream. I just went along with it. But it’s time to grow up, Gwen. Time you did the same,” he turned his back and started to walk away.
“Tristan, I-,”.
“I’ve got to go,” he said, and turned his back on me once more.
Tears immediately started streaming down my face and I hunched over, ready to spill the contents of my stomach. This visceral reaction wasn’t out of nowhere. We’d been planning Avalon since we were kids. The Tristan I just encountered was a stranger to me. He was hurtful, dismissive, and determined to get as far away for me as possible.
Over the past few months, our talks had changed. We went from a solid friendship to…more. He’d found every excuse to brush against me, his looks lingered and we nearly kissed a week ago. Could that be what happened? Did he think that I expect more, and had he decided that wasn’t what he wanted? My eyes lifted to watch as he faded into the distance. I slumped to the ground, my face in my hands, and bawled my eyes out.
I wake with a start, still feeling the pain of the memory of that day. We hadn’t talked after that. He avoided me like the plague. He wouldn’t take my calls and he did as promised: he went to Westoff and never looked back. I had trusted him with everything—my heart included— and he broke it without a second glance.
If he could walk away from me so easily back then, god only knows what he’d do to me now. Years have past and we’ve changed. We are strangers and it would be foolish of me to think I could trust him. As much as I hate the thought, I’m alone in this quest.
I’m not sure knighthood is exactly what I want out of life, but I know I don’t want to lose or get hurt in the process. This first challenge seems to be straightforward, but nothing can be that easy. Chances are I’m going to encounter problems and I just have to try to figure out what those might be.
Chapter Eight
Unsure I’d be able to sleep, I throw on my clothes and head towards the library. Although it’s an unlikely chance that I’ll stumble across the book that I seek, I have to start somewhere. So, to the library I go.
When I reach the D’Morte library, I push open the doors and head straight to the catalog. I pull out the envelope and reread the content to find the name of the book that I’m looking for. With the memory of Tristan still lingering, my mind is a mess.
Skimming through, I come up short. There are no books in the library labeled Souveign Coven, Book of Shadows, or Grimoire. Looking three more times, I become more and more frustrated each time my results are the same.
What am I missing?
I slump back, feeling defeated. The little
hope that I’ve held evaporates. I know it’s not going to be this easy, but what now?
“Can I help you, Gwen?”
I turn to see Elena Rose standing behind me. She is a classmate who volunteers her time in the library. I want to ask her for help, but I’ve been instructed to tell no one of what I’m trying to find, and I’m not prepared to deal with the consequences if I disobey, whatever the hell that entails. But giving half information wouldn’t be going against my agreement, right?
“I was just looking for a few examples of Grimoires.”
Her eyebrow lifts in question.
Grimoires are witch’s tools. They are very dangerous when in the wrong hands and sorcerers are forbidden in messing with them unless guided by a coven leader.
“I’m doing a report for Professor Morris’s class, and I’m trying to get a head start since we have a few days without classes.”
She tsks. “Well, you’ll never find a Grimoire in here. Any that the school has possession of are held in the Sacred library.”
Right, the Sacred library is a secret room that is hidden underneath the school. It’s warded off so that no one but people with the proper credentials can enter.
“Great. So, can you take me there?”
“You’re kidding, right?” she responds incredulously. “No one can just enter the Sacred library. You have to have special permission to view any item from that room, which takes months.”
“I don’t have months,” I snap.
“I don’t know what to tell you. Not even the professors have access to that room.”
She walks to a nearby desk and shuffles through a drawer. “Here is the paperwork that you have to fill out. If you do that and hand it directly to me, I will get it to the Chancellor immediately. You’ll have your response in four to six weeks.”