by Nicole Adamz
“Caelum Maewyn, my lovely protegee, how are you?” Greerson said, his eyes glowing possessively.
My mind raced frantically. Awful recollections of locked doors, grasping fingers, and bruises threatened to overwhelm me, but I pushed them away. That was then. I have control over my fate now. He can’t reach me. As his former Tyro, I was tasked with showing him public deference. Reluctantly, I bowed my head. Dread tightened my heart when he smiled slowly.
“Your performance last night was…astonishing.” Greerson said, his words oozing like oil.
Images from last night slid into my mind, and I wanted to scream. Clenching my teeth, I looked directly into Caelum Greerson’s cruel eyes and willed myself not to break into a thousand jagged pieces. Tread carefully. If he’s inside the Aerie he must have a powerful connection with a High Family.
“High Lord Bera said the same thing,” I said stiffly. Greerson’s eyes darkened, and I quickly continued, “I need to return to Ascension, and I doubt we’ll run into each other again. I’ll say farewell here.”
A cryptic smile slid onto Greerson’s face and he said, “Farewell, my lovely protegee. Until we meet again.”
I forced a smile, inclining my head before departing. Don’t run, don’t run, don’t run, I chanted, forcing myself to walk toward the Aerie’s entrance; the large double doors were thrown open to the crisp morning. Escape beckoned beyond them.
Tension speared down my spine while I ran through the Courtyards, tears looming in my eyes. Blurred trees filled my vision, and I paused in the Outer Courtyard to wipe away tears, conscious of the Warders above. Caelum Greerson’s words crafted a truth I wanted to deny. This can’t be happening. That wasn’t the decision I made.
I wouldn’t give myself to him. Slowly, a dawning realization floated to the surface of my distraught mind. I didn’t give myself to him. He tricked me into giving him what I was giving to another. A flicker of rage kindled in my heart. And only the two of us know about it.
I don’t know why High Lord Bera chose Healer Willow over me last night, but he’s not the only powerful man in Summit. My lips compressed. There’s still the Heir. I’ll make Caelum Greerson wish he’d never laid eyes on me.
After a final sniff, I squared my shoulders and walked toward the gleaming gates standing proudly in the distance. I passed through them with a flirtatious smile for the Warders on duty and walked to the edge of the marble platform. Hovering at the edge, I reached into my pocket and slowly withdrew the amber hairpin, staring at it. I tossed it over the edge. I’ll never be his, I thought as I snapped my wings open.
Chapter 19
Ari
THE MORNING SUN edged across my pillow, and the covers fell to the floor. My body felt heavy, and my eyes burned. I glared at my pillow’s stained, lumpy shape before walking to the basin. Splashing water on my face, I stared at my rippling reflection.
A garnet drop leaked from a nostril, and I wiped it away before closing my eyes. My eyeballs ache. I didn’t even know eyeballs could ache. Grabbing a uniform, I imagined Maewyn’s reaction and ruffled my feathers irritably. It matches, I thought sullenly.
I ran a hand through my short hair, ready to grab the morning meal. When I returned, an envelope addressed to Maewyn was in the mail bin. I grabbed it and laid it on the table in the common room, angrily biting into an apple. When Maewyn staggered through the doorway irritation skittered along my nerves.
It’s about time. There are things I need to do—I can’t wait around like an Anomaly. When Maewyn didn’t twitter into the room I paused, examining her. Limp hair straggled around a deathly pale face. Putting my apple down, I grabbed her when she staggered.
“I’m fine.” Maewyn said curtly, pushing me away.
She swayed toward the low-backed couch, sitting with a soft rustle of velvet. A shaking hand carefully plucked at a bunch of grapes on my plate. Maewyn gazed blankly at the table, popping grape after grape into her mouth.
Normally she can’t wait to gossip or brag about her conquests. She’s never been so…oddly quiet. My brow furrowed. It’s like part of her is…gone. Maewyn’s startled gaze snapped up when I rapped my knuckles sharply on the table. I raised my eyebrows questioningly.
“I didn’t eat before leaving the Aerie, so I’m a little drained,” she said.
Her vague smile didn’t reach her eyes, and she wouldn’t look at me. Something happened. I leaned closer, forcing her to meet my gaze. Vibrant green orbs reluctantly met mine, and I stared into their depths. My lips thinned, and the ghost of a true smile appeared on Maewyn’s face.
“I’m fine. There’s no need to worry,” she said firmly.
She’s lying. Closing my eyes, I fought off a sharp pain in my head. I glanced at Maewyn’s bare wrists. Rascette Cuffs were conspicuously absent. Maybe her evening didn’t go as planned.
My frustration simmered anew. Maewyn had blithely tried giving herself to the High Lord for an advanced social status. Mate-Bonds go against the Old Traditions, and their termination takes months to recover from because they aren’t consecrated acts of the True One. No Bond should be created lightly.
I clamped down my irritation, handing Maewyn her letter. When she merely stared at it, I put it back on the table. Anger, fueled by disappointment, flowed through me. She said she wanted to get more Revues among High Families, I grumbled. I strode to my room, leaving her alone while I shoved materials into my satchel.
Maewyn’s chamber was closed when I walked by. She’s acting like not being a pretty bird is a tragedy, I fumed. Taking a deep breath, I let it out. It’s my responsibility to help her after a Revue. Maewyn is my friend and my Caelum—even if I don’t agree with her choice. I knocked firmly, gritting my teeth when there was no response. The pressure behind my eyes built.
Something is wrong, throbbed in my mind. I rubbed my temples before slinging my satchel over my shoulders. Maewyn doesn’t want my help, and I have end of term exams coming up. My jaw tightened. She didn’t have a Tyro before I came along, so she can take care of herself. A warm trickle rolled over my lips.
I reached up, my fingers slick with blood. Skies! This day is off to a jolly start, I thought, stomping to my room. When the bleeding stopped, I shoved a clean handkerchief into my bag before leaving. Being late to Docent Pickwickian’s lecture was perilous, so I made an early trip to the Great Library. Every jarring step down was accompanied by a sharp jab of pain to my head.
The orbs flared harshly in my face when I reached the Great Library, and I squinted. My skull felt like my brain was being ground between a mortar and pestle. A shelf trembled when I stumbled against it, and I hesitated at the feel of warm blood on my face. Grabbing the handkerchief, I plugged my nostrils.
The small, persistent voice in my mind insisting something was wrong—that Maewyn had lied—kept chanting. Anger coursed through me, pounding through my veins. Faltering down aisles, I made my way to where I’d found the tomes. I blinked at a flash of grey and closed my eyes, leaning against a shelf. This was a bad idea.
I squinted up at the orbs, unable to discern their color. How long have I been here? I grabbed my head and slid to the floor. The stale, dusty air didn’t ease the heat spreading over my body. A bead of perspiration slid down my neck, and when the pulsing in my skull was a steady throb I slowly stood.
I came all this way to return those tomes. I’ll lay down afterward. Irritation snapped through me at having a headache determine the rest of my day. I slowly inspected the shelves, the handkerchief still stuffed up my nose. I paused to rest my head against a cool ledge. When a scroll slipped from my hands I winced at the noise. The pounding in my head intensified.
Another scroll pinged to the ground, and a blurry, gray figure rounded the shelf. An Anomaly waivered at the end of the row, a hiss emanating from her throat like fat popping in a pan. The sound deepened, and she charged, knocking me into a shelf. My head snapped back, connecting with a corner. Pain exploded in my skull, and I fell.
She jumped on me, tra
pping my wings, and clawed my neck. A wild growl ripped from her throat, and I frantically reached behind me. Grabbing her tunic, I flipped her over my shoulders. Crazed, unseeing eyes stared at me from a pallid, sweating face before she scampered a few feet away. What’s wrong with her?
Fear skittered down my spine, and I braced for another charge, standing with my feet spread and my knees bent so I was closer to the ground. My vision blurred, and I tensed at the sound of shuffling behind me. A sharp pain exploded against my temples and everything went black.
∞ ∞ ∞
I winced, blinking my gritty eyes before slowly sitting up. Did I black out? The insistent throbbing at the back of my head informed me I had a nice lump, but my headache was gone. Tomes and half-opened scrolls littered the floor like a fledgling’s toys. I gingerly traced the knot on the back of my head, hissing at the tender, egg-shaped lump. I was hit with something.
I frowned. Images of a thrashing, wild-eyed Anomaly rushed in. My fingers traveled to my neck, gently touching the raw, stinging skin. Dried blood flaked off my neck when I drew my fingers away. Her eyes weren’t normal. I shook my head. Who am I to think that? My eyes are bi-colored. Still, something about the memory nagged at me, but I pushed it away when someone rounded the shelf.
“Ari! What are you doing down there?” Docent Pickwickian chuckled with surprise. “It’s not unusual to find someone nodding off between shelves, but I never thought you’d be one of them.” He paused, looking at me. “Skies! Are you alright? You have blood on you.”
I glanced at my tunic, noticing several stiff patches of dried blood. At least wearing black was a good choice today. I nodded, quickly gathering my satchel.
“There’s, um, a matter I think needs to be addressed,” Docent Pickwickian said awkwardly. “An Anomaly said there was a student hallucinating back here. She was fighting with herself and hissing at shelves. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Pursing my lips, I shook my head. Hallucinating? Disbelief flashed through me. That doesn’t explain the lump on my head or the scratches on my neck. Unless I scratched and knocked myself out.
Docent Pickwickian nodded pensively, muttering to himself. I slung my satchel over my shoulders and it slid over the scrapes on my neck. I flinched. I traced a finger over the welts, feeling the ragged wounds. I’m not so sleep deprived that I would hallucinate the entire thing and harm myself…would I?
I hunched my shoulders, moving quickly past Docent Pickwickian toward the exit. How humiliating. My boots scraped across the floor. I’ll check on Maewyn. If she doesn’t need anything I’ll study for the upcoming exams.
Comfortable that I had a plan, I shifted my bag and walked through the shelves. A faint flapping noise caught my attention, and a dark shadow shifted on the other side. The hair on my neck stood on end. Discreetly scanning the area, I walked forward. An indistinct whisper reached my ears, making me edgy. Unbidden, an image of the shadowed figure at the Aerie surfaced.
My skin prickled. I’m imaging things. Who would want to watch me? Slowly, I raised a hand to my neck, and a bolt of fear shot through me. Maybe whoever did this? When I heard the noise again, I rounded a shelf and doubled back. Squatting, a grey shift and a cloud of dust came into view. I sighed, feeling the tension leave my body. It’s an Anomaly.
Another thought occurred. Despite Docent Pickwickian’s claims, I’m sure of an Anomaly attacked me…I think. I stared at the Anomaly through cracks in the shelf, ducking when she came closer. She didn’t look like the Anomaly who had attacked me. I waited until she passed by before moving. Clumps of dust clung to my uniform where it had pressed against the shelf.
I brushed it off, frowning. I walked the last few yards to the arched entranceway. Every thump up the stairs made the lump on my head ache. Pride and embarrassment kept me from wincing. Whether I was attacked by an Anomaly or having a hallucination, neither was something to be proud of.
The Caelum gossip about my nosebleeds, and now the Anomalies will gossip about my supposed hallucination. I groaned mentally. If I become Caelum, I might never be able to live down the embarrassments I’ve created while being a Tyro. I slid into the hallway, and cautiously walked into the feast hall.
There weren’t many people in the room, and relief swept through me. Without Maewyn’s presence as protection, I’m mud under a boot if another Caelum decides to lash out at me for hitting Caelum Pearl. I balanced a huge platter on my arm and stocked it with food. Squaring my shoulders, I walked back to the suite and quietly opened the door in case Maewyn was sleeping.
I pressed my ear to her bedchamber door but didn’t hear any movement. Good, I don’t want to explain the marks on my neck. Setting the platter in the galley, I lit a fire and set a kettle to boil water. Washing my face and neck, I put on another uniform and carefully bandaged my neck.
I sipped on a cup of pekoe, worried when there wasn’t any noise from Maewyn’s room. I hope she’s okay, I thought, knocking softly on her door. When I didn’t receive a response, I knocked louder. Still no response. Frowning, I tried the latch. It clicked, and I slowly pushed it open.
I peered hesitantly into the dark room, looking at the rumpled bed. It was empty. Odd, she usually leaves a note if she leaves. When I opened the curtains, I noticed a crumpled piece of parchment on the floor beside her desk. Opening it, I read the contents.
Ambire meeting. Now.
Chapter 20
Maewyn
ISLUMPED AT THE MUFFLED thump of the main door. My entire body ached, and I longed to bury myself in bed and forget everything. It would be possible if it weren’t for the letter in my hand.
I’d recognized the dark, violet wax immediately, and known the Ambire family seal would be pressed into it. It took sheer will to keep my face blank when Ari handed it to me. If it had been any other day, or after any other occasion, I might have complained to her about my family.
Instead, I shut Ari out. It wasn’t easy to do with her concerned, moody eyes trained on me. It’s better this way. Her disapproval is palpable, and I can’t let her feelings about my choices be a distraction. Especially now. I bit my lip and opened the letter, scrunching it after I read it. Shame and apprehension ripped at my gut and I took deep, even breaths. They know. Distressed, I tossed the crumpled letter toward my desk and paced.
They couldn’t know this soon. I stopped. They might have spies in the Aerie, but they weren’t in the room. Reassured, I squared my shoulders and walked to my vanity, wincing at the image in the mirror. The triumphant glow I’d started with this morning had morphed into pinched and wan features.
Pouring tepid water into a basin, I struggled out of my heavy gown and jewels, turning to the armoire. It held my greatest weapons. I ran a hand down the stained wood. All Elysian women are pretty, but clothes and adornment can elevate pretty to beautiful.
Mother always said how you present yourself is how you’ll be perceived. It’s a lesson I learned well, and I pray to Aeolus it serves me now; may the student fool the teacher. I would need something easily donned that relayed a message of confidence and success. Considering my pale, tight features in the mirror again, I chose a rose-colored velvet gown that cinched at the waist.
I paired it with saffron stockings and ankle boots. Scenting myself with the wildflower oil I preferred, I dusted my cheeks and mouth with red amaranth. Careful not to chew my lips while thinking, I braided a portion of my hair into a coronet and added a wide, golden comb crafted into roses. The rest of my hair was left down.
Adding simple, gold earrings and a stack of gold rings to a finger completed the ensemble. Mother taught me appearances are important, but Ari—with her disinterest in appearance—taught me simple adornments convey larger concepts. A vibrant young woman, flushed and confident stood in front of the mirror. Satisfied, I left my chamber
I felt too queasy to eat but knew I would need the sustenance for the flight, so I had some jam and dried bread. No matter what I must appear healthy, confident, and su
ccessful. My lips thinned determinedly. When I finished eating, I left the suit. I made a left at the end of the hall and had almost entered the grand foyer when Pearl’s voice grabbed me from behind.
“Enjoy your evening?” she sneered.
I took a deep breath before turning toward her with a beaming smile, “It was a success.”
Pearl slid out of the feast hall’s doorway, and her typical group of admirers followed. Pearl was pretty and loved being the center of attention. I studied the five Totality Claimed men trailing behind her as though connected on invisible strings. Is she Mate-Bonded to one of them? No, she said she has a Mate-Bond with Greerson.
Pearl’s midnight blue eyes narrowed at my careful study of her cloister. “Envious of my admirers? I’ll let you borrow one, if you’d like. Now that you’ve created your first Bond,” Pearl purred salaciously.
I kept my smile tightly in place, determined to lie, “I don’t know what you mean.”
Pearl’s mouth twisted into a sneer at my serene façade. “You’ve always been a liar,” she said. “It’s a shame your little nosebleed Tyro actually believes you. You can see it in her hideous eyes.” Pearl scoffed, putting a hand on her hip.
The barb pierced my conscious, and Pearl smiled triumphantly. “What’s the matter? Are you saddened the little nosebleed trusts you?”
I can tell Ari almost anything. If she knew…well, it doesn’t matter. Pearl only strikes at Ari because of me.
I smiled. “As a Fractional Caelum you have too much free-time to indulge in your favorite hobby: meddling.”
Pearl waved the insult away. “I had an appointment with Caelum Greerson early this morning, and he told me the most interesting story,” she said, her angry gaze raking over me.
I stiffened. “I don’t have time for stories.”
“Not even one that stars you?” she purred quietly.
My shoulders jerked in a careless shrug. “High Lord Bera liked my performance last night.”