Midnight Law

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Midnight Law Page 14

by Geanna Culbertson


  Dang. I hope that didn’t come across too insulting. I really didn’t mean for it to be. I was plainly speaking the truth. Someone had to.

  Another awkward lull. I seemed to be acquiring a talent for inspiring those.

  “Godmother Supreme,” SJ said calmly. “I think you should consider Jason’s idea.”

  We all turned to her.

  “The old ways are not working anymore. The world has problems that are too big to be delicately touched up like putting concealer on blemishes. We need an overhaul. I am not saying we rush into things. When we reconvene after lunch, let us suggest tabling the protagonist school topic. We do not officially write Lady Agnue’s and Lord Channing’s into the budget for now, but we set aside five percent of Book’s total finances for later distribution in case we decide the schools are necessary. This should pacify everyone on the matter so we can move forward.”

  “I agree, Godmother Supreme,” Debbie said, holding her ground with humility but conviction like SJ. “We need to come to an agreement about this topic so we can figure out things like Godmother relations to common characters, how Gallant’s new government should be run after the rebel takeover, ambassador term limits, post high school opportunities for commons, and so forth. We’ll circle back to the subject of protagonist selection once other matters are sorted. If we do this right . . . maybe you will be okay with letting go of that aspect of our world because we will not need it anymore.”

  We all looked to Lenore for the next move.

  Ultimately, she nodded. “Once all matters are resolved, I may consider a different future for protagonist selection, though I am not promising what that is. My first priority is and always has been the long-term sustainability of this realm.”

  “Funny,” I said. “My first priority is making sure this realm doesn’t fall apart in the here and now so there is something left to sustain. To each their own.”

  SJ shot me a disapproving look. However, like before when I called Lenore out, I didn’t regret speaking my mind. I appreciated where the Godmother Supreme was coming from. She’d been alive for over a century and a half and therefore had experienced more of life—the rises, the falls, the people—than probably anyone. I willingly acknowledged that she knew more than I did.

  But there was a benefit to being younger and having experienced less in life. You weren’t jaded. You knew less of what it meant to hate or be hurt and had seen less of the bad that people could do. As a result, you could look at things with more clarity, see them with less noise and clutter detracting from the idealism and empathetic morality most people are born with. Lenore seemed to have left those things behind a long time ago, so maybe she needed the tough love.

  I really believed my idea about protagonist selection could work, that it could heal us. If I needed to drive home that point with some malapert behavior, so be it. Crisa wasn’t here. Someone had to keep Lenore from forgetting about people on her quest to managing them.

  Over the next couple weeks, two important things happened.

  First, we managed to reach a major resolution during the peace talks. Gallant had gone without a formal ruler since the rebels killed the land’s childless king and queen. The royals had other extended family that could be brought in as heirs, people who had a blood right to the throne—siblings, cousins, nieces, and nephews. However, the rebels were not about to move out and surrender to the old regime. So our assembly miraculously agreed to something weird, controversial, and innovative.

  Once the peace talks were done, Gallant would elect new monarchs. Whatever the outcome of those elections, the new Gallant ambassador would be one of the current rebel leaders. Furthermore, while the newly elected rulers would choose a portion of their royal cabinet, at least half of the cabinet members needed to include people who used to occupy those positions. It was kind of an old-meets-new arrangement, and an unheard-of blend of monarchy and democracy.

  So, like I said: weird, controversial, and innovative. But all parties were in agreement, so we were rolling with it. Shocking, I know.

  The second big development during this time frame—Mauvrey started to get Paige’s memory back.

  I was on my way to the music room one morning to surprise the princess with a present. I’d been having a lot of choppy, indiscernible nightmares about Crisa recently that left me feeling bummed out when I woke in the morning. I was really looking forward to hopefully getting a big smile out of Mauvrey with this gift, which would lift her spirits and my own.

  Fluid piano song floated down the corridor as I headed toward the music room. Under Javier’s tutelage, Mauvrey had been getting way better. The fog that clouded the skill and talent she’d honed as Tara cleared with each day. All of a sudden though, right as I entered, the melody halted. Mauvrey stared off into space. “Harzana has the best bread,” she said in a daze.

  “What’s that?” Javier asked from where he stood beside the piano.

  Mauvrey turned to him, her expression bright. She noticed me in the doorway and looked from me to Javier excitedly. “Harzana has the best bread!”

  “If you say so,” Javier said.

  “No, you do not understand.” Mauvrey jumped up and smiled—the first full one I’d seen since she’d been awake.

  “I have never been to Harzana. But while playing, I had a memory of a woman buying bread for me. I smelled the warmth of the baking loaves; I felt the emotions of joy and feeling at home. It was one of Paige’s memories, not my own.”

  Mauvrey gave Javier a quick, but enthused hug. “You really are a wonderful teacher. Maybe I can actually do this.”

  “Of course you can,” Javier said. “You’re doing great!”

  “Come on, let’s go tell the others together,” I said gladly.

  “No, you go,” Mauvrey said. “This is my first legitimate window into Paige’s mind. You can pass on the news; I am staying here with Javier to see if I can build on this.” She sat down determinedly and placed her fingers on the keys.

  “Well, if your teacher doesn’t mind an interruption, I have a gift for you before I go,” I said, holding up a brown paper bag.

  “A gift?” Her face was pure bewilderment; I may as well have told her the moon was made of shortcake. “Why?”

  “Because you should have it,” I replied simply. “Though now you can also call it a congratulations present for your first big breakthrough.” I handed her the package.

  Mauvrey opened the bag and pulled out a pair of metallic fingerless gloves. She stared at them in surprise and then stared back at me.

  “Blue, Daniel, SJ, and I have been working on recreating the glove weapons that you used when Tara possessed you,” I explained. “They may take some getting used to, but if you have all of Tara’s memories, then you probably can awaken the muscle memory for how to use them, like with the piano.”

  Mauvrey slipped a glove over her hand and flexed her fingers.

  Javier gave her a thumbs up. “Fits like a glove.”

  “I am still stuck on the same question,” Mauvrey said to me. “Why?”

  “You’re on our team now. You should have a weapon. Plus, if the antagonists come after you, it wouldn’t hurt to be able to defend yourself.”

  “I cannot believe you all care enough to do this for me.”

  “Once you get to know us better, you’ll have no trouble believing that. We’re teamwork-makes-the-dream-work kind of friends.”

  “I . . . I should get back to practicing,” Mauvrey said, removing the glove from her hand. “But perhaps one of you might spare the time to work with me on these?” She gestured to the glove. “Coach me in combat like Javier is training me in music.”

  “Sure,” I said. “I’m at the peace talks for most of the day with SJ, but I’ll talk to Blue and Daniel about it. Keep at it, you two.” I started to turn away.

  “Jason.” I paused and Mauvrey gave me a quick hug. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” I headed out. Music filled the hall again as Mauvrey re
sumed playing. I journeyed across the castle to meet my friends for breakfast. I couldn’t wait to tell them that Mauvrey recovered her first memory of Paige. Bread may not have been a fate-altering memory, but it was a start. And starts should never be undervalued.

  “Hey, Jason!”

  I turned. Evette was coming up the hall behind me. I waited for her to catch up. She’d been staying at the castle periodically throughout the summer and had returned a week ago. I found myself getting a bit fidgety as she approached. Blue may have been the focus of my feelings, but I wasn’t blind. Between her long, flowing hair, tan skin, and impressively toned arms, Pietro’s fiancé was crazy attractive. Today she had on a black leather corset over a purple long-sleeve top; her leather boots went above the knees.

  “How are you?” she asked.

  “Fine,” I said. “Can I help you with something?”

  “I wanted to ask you a favor. SJ told me that you made the slingshot she uses. Would it be possible for you to make me one?”

  “Why do you need it?”

  “It’s a surprise for Pietro. We haven’t gotten a chance to spend much time together lately, and he’s been so worried and depressed about Crisa. I want to give him a fun night as a distraction, and the adventure I have planned starts with a slingshot.” At my curious expression, she continued with a smile. “When we first started dating we kept it a secret and he used a slingshot to fire stones at my window to get my attention.”

  “Sounds like a good way to break a window.”

  Evette nodded. “It was both a romantic and destructive gesture. That’s how my parents found out about us; a pane of glass can only handle so many stones. Anyway, I want to take Pietro out tomorrow and thought it’d be great to call on him the way he used to call on me.”

  “The Darlings might have a problem with you breaking one of their windows, Evette.”

  Evette laughed. “Don’t worry, there will be no destruction this time. So, what do you say? Can you help me out?”

  “Probably. Assuming the Darlings have carpentry supplies—which is likely—I’ll make it later tonight. No big deal.”

  “That’s awesome. Thank you so much.”

  Evette gave me a swift, grateful hug. Unlike Mauvrey’s hug, this one made me uncomfortable. If I was going to be hugging a hot girl, I wanted it to be Blue. Not like that would happen anytime soon. The closest we came to physical contact was our sparring sessions. I made time for those every day, even with the peace talks. They were worth bailing out on dinner early for. It may have seemed pathetic, but sometimes I considered not parrying one of her strikes on purpose so she’d be closer to me. I never followed through on that though. I was trained to fight to win. Plus, she was already emotionally punching me in the chest on a daily basis; getting nailed by one of her powerful jabs would not improve my situation.

  As if she could sense me thinking of her, moments after Evette and I parted ways, Blue came striding up to me. “Morning!” she greeted me with complete normalcy. She nodded toward Evettte down the hall before we continued toward breakfast. “What did the future Mrs. Knight want from you?”

  “I’m going to carve her a slingshot. It’s sort of a present for Pietro.”

  “You’re pretty busy with the side projects these days,” she commented as we walked. “First Mauvrey’s gloves, now this. You and SJ should go into business together—Potions & Weaponry Incorporated.”

  “It’s not a bad idea. Maybe I’ll take marketing as my elective when we’re back at school in a few weeks.”

  Blue made a face. “It may sound weird, but part of me forgot about school. Homework and electives feel like child’s play once you’ve saved realms and traversed alternate dimensions.”

  “I’m actually looking forward to it,” I admitted. “Although I’m sure regular school life won’t last long. Natalie Poole’s deadline with the Eternity Gate is coming. I have a feeling that in spite of everything we’ve seen in the last year, things are about to get worse. Which gives us all the more reason to appreciate the normal moments, like classes, clubs, and friends.”

  “That’s one of my favorite things about you,” Blue mused.

  “What, our friendship?” I asked.

  “No, your optimism.”

  “SJ tells me that it’s the first ingredient for any successful endeavor.”

  Blue smiled. “SJ is often right. But don’t tell her I said that.”

  We entered what had come to feel like our dining room. Pietro and Marie weren’t there, but everyone else was getting food from the buffet that’d been set up by the castle staff. They’d been really kind to us, and attentive to our needs. I would have to talk to one of the girls about the proper way to write a thank you card. I mean, I knew how to do it in general, but I wanted it done right and I was sure Lady Agnue’s offered a class in that sort of thing. Before we left here, I’d write one for the staff, and one for Chance’s parents. Queen Lydia and King Dominique had been putting up with us for two months. It was a good thing they had so many kids and were already used to a full house; this many teenagers under one roof could’ve driven anyone crazy.

  The Darlings were super chill as far as parents and royals went. However, they also had other reasons for accommodating our group that went beyond us being friends with their son. They understood what we were doing for the realm. They didn’t want war with the commons and were in full support of our contribution to the peace talks. Additionally, they knew about the antagonists plotting against us and were some of the few rulers actively preparing for war with them rather than foolishly brushing it off as an impossibility because of Alderon’s In and Out Spell.

  When Blue and I entered, a chorus of “Good mornings” greeted us from our friends. I started to pull out a chair for Blue, but when I glanced up, I saw she’d already moved to sit beside Gordon. I ignored the urge to follow her and pretended like I’d pulled the chair out for myself. Daniel, next to me, raised an eyebrow as I sat down.

  “You okay?”

  “What? Yeah, fine,” I answered, scooping some scrambled eggs onto my plate.

  “How’d Mauvrey like the gloves?” Daniel asked.

  “She loved them. She does seem nervous about using them, but that’s understandable.”

  “Maybe Blue can help her practice,” Daniel offered, talking louder so Blue could hear. “Other than Knight, she’s probably had the most experience with those gloves.”

  “If by experience you mean I’ve almost been killed by them, then yeah.” Blue shrugged. “I’ll help the princess out. But I’m not looking forward to it. Spending time with Mauvrey one-on-one has been super awkward. I never know what to say or how to treat her.”

  “I think we’re all in that boat,” Girtha concorded. “It’s weird to talk to her now that she’s not evil and I’m . . .”

  “Not the jerk you were when you ran with her back at school?” Blue offered, raising her eyebrows.

  Girtha swallowed the cutting comment and tried to extend an olive branch. “In a manner of speaking . . .” She poked the food on her plate with her fork. “You know, I could co-coach with you, Blue. We could face the awkwardness together.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” Blue replied dismissively. “I’d rather deal with the discomfort alone, or else there’s too many cooks in the kitchen.”

  Girtha looked bummed. I broached a new topic to get the others to stop staring at her with pity. “Does anyone want to fly up to Mark’s castle with me this weekend? I was thinking of spending a couple of days there.”

  “I am afraid I will be busy training via compact with Merlin and Julian all weekend,” SJ replied as she delicately spread clotted cream on a scone. “Otherwise I would gladly accompany you.”

  “I’d go too, but I actually need to return home on Friday night with Marie,” Gordon said. “We promised our parents we’d spend a little time at home before school starts, and we can only go on the weekends because of the peace talks.”

  I turned to Daniel. “What ab
out you? You haven’t even met Mark yet. Maybe this is a good time.”

  “Uh, I’ve actually got plans,” Daniel said a bit hesitantly.

  “What plans?” I asked.

  “Children!”

  We pivoted toward the booming voice of Chance’s father. Queen Lydia and King Dominique stood in the doorway. The king, a boisterous man if I ever met one, had a bushy brown beard and mustache that matched his dark eyes. Conversely, Queen Lydia had shockingly light blonde hair and ghostly pale blue eyes. It was funny how they looked so different and yet appeared as a perfect set—like a set of salt and pepper shakers.

  “We want to personally invite you all to the Summer Farewell Festival this weekend,” Queen Lydia announced. “I am sure Chance has mentioned it.”

  The royals looked to their son. Embarrassment crossed Chance’s face. “Actually, I forgot. I’m sorry.”

  “Do not worry, dear,” the queen said. “You have been through trying times recently. You all have. Which is all the more reason to clear your heads with the festival. It will commence tomorrow morning in the village and last through Sunday. There will be many activities, contests, and booths in celebration of the final days of summer.”

  Some summer. From June to August, my kingdom of Middle-brook was always sunny and in the low eighties. Clevaunt rarely got above sixty-eight degrees. The Darlings and their people were seriously missing out on what summer was supposed to be.

  “Cereus, Daphne, Sammi, Trenton, and Ivy Lynn always compete in the events,” the king declared. “Our family likes placing bets on which of the children will take home the most prizes. Since Chance typically prefers not to compete, perhaps some of you would like to enter and give his siblings a run for their money.”

 

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