“Me too.” He chuckled. “Obviously.”
“It’s just …” She paused and shook her head. “How can you stand to be around people like me?”
Confusion crossed his features. “What?”
“My life—my parents and friends and my work—it’s all so superficial and meaningless. You saved lives, fought dangerous creatures, and submerged yourself in a deadly world to bring down evil—and now you’re stuck walking around the homes of rich people. It must drive you crazy!”
“Raven, people need to wear clothes. Your work might not seem as thrilling, but it isn’t meaningless.”
“Half the things I create would never be worn by any ordinary person on any ordinary day.” She placed her mug on the coffee table and hugged the cushion again. “I should be casting clothes that are more sensible. Maybe that would help more people. No one needs all those frivolous outfits I’m always coming up with. I could tone down on—”
“Hey.” He leaned over and took her hand. “Sometimes people need frivolous in their lives. And that creativity is part of who you are. Don’t tone it down. I’m serious, Raven. You can’t be ashamed of the thing you’re most passionate about. You just have to find the best way to use it, that’s all.”
Raven’s eyes flicked down to their joined hands. Heat began to spread out from somewhere deep inside her. She didn’t want him to let go. She wanted to slide her fingers between his. She wanted to feel the rough skin of his palms—
Flint pulled his hand back just as a crash resounded from the direction of the kitchen.
“What was that?” Raven asked.
“Probably nothing,” he said quickly.
“Oh. Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure everything’s fine. You should—”
“—probably go. I know. But you’ll take that message—”
“—to the Guild, yes. In fact, I’ll contact a friend of mine right now. He might even be there tonight, so he can pass the message on immediately.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“You’ll go straight home from here?” Flint asked.
“Yes. Straight into my bedroom. Wouldn’t want my parents to catch me coming home now.”
“Definitely not. And Raven,” he added. “Please don’t forget what I said. Your work can still add value to people’s lives.”
She nodded as she turned to leave. “Thanks, Flint.”
Chapter Ten
Seven. That was the glowing blue number that floated above Raven’s desk on this fine Friday morning. She would rather have been making plans with Daisy to lie outside in the sun this afternoon, but with the final show only a week away, she’d have to keep working all afternoon. Especially since she wouldn’t be able to continue into the evening because of that silly flower casters’ party she was hosting with her mother tonight.
Raven had thought a lot about Flint’s words over the past few days. She decided it probably was possible to use clothes casting in a way that benefited others, although she hadn’t yet figured out anything specific. But being a good hostess at a ball for the local flower casters society? She wasn’t sure how worthwhile a skill that was.
Racing to college and just about gluing her butt to a chair all day, she managed to get a lot done. Joining all the leaves together for the snake dress was time-consuming work, but she managed to get a good portion of it completed, as well as the delicate metal band she’d decided should go around the model’s head.
“How was Von Milta Madness?” Cecilia asked Raven when she popped in briefly at the end of the day to see how a few of the last-minute outfits were going. “You had some pieces on show this year, didn’t you?”
“Yes, it was lots of fun. I hope I get invited to take part again some time in the future.” All the Madness outfits had been auctioned off for charity, which Raven excitedly pointed out to Flint when she realized that might be the first tiny bit of good her fashion skills had brought about. She couldn’t count on being invited to Von Milta Madness every year, though, so she’d have to come up with another worthy cause for her future. Something that hopefully wouldn’t clash with the internship she was so desperate to get …
“Wonderful,” Cecilia said. “And you seem to be moving along quickly with this piece.” She examined some of the leaves, gave Raven a few helpful hints—which Raven hurriedly scribbled down in her notebook—and added, “You might even have time to work on fixing the sprite-wing dress before the final show.”
“I started on that last night, actually, since I had it at home. But it’s back there now with the rest of my collection.” She motioned to the room behind her where all the finished pieces were stored. Each student’s section of the room was sealed off from the others with an enchantment. An unnecessary safeguard most of the time, but students had been known to sabotage each other’s work in the past. With people like Bella hanging around, Raven was grateful for the precaution.
After college, Raven took parts of the new dress home with her and worked on them until her mother appeared in her bedroom doorway, wanting to know why she wasn’t ready yet. “You’re supposed to be inspecting the decor downstairs with me now.”
“Oh. Is it possible there’s something wrong with it?”
“I certainly hope not, but we need to check it anyway. We’re entertaining flower casters, after all, so the flower arrangements need to be spectacular.”
“Well, can I come down when I’m dressed?”
Zalea heaved a frustrated sigh. “Fine. Please hurry up.”
Raven picked out a pink dress with a puffy skirt and flower embellishments weaving their way up her back and over her shoulders. It seemed appropriate for the occasion. She tided her notebooks, bending quickly to pick one up that had fallen. She was about to close it and drop it onto the pile when she noticed the writing next to one of her older unused designs. Too much fluffy girliness for the assigned theme, read the note. It wasn’t the words themselves that had caught her attention, but how they were written: in a larger, cleaner script than her own, with looping Fs, Ys and Gs.
With her heart pounding faster, she paged through the rest of the notebook. Then she looked through all the others, searching for the same handwriting, hoping to find a clue as to who it belonged to. But she couldn’t find it anywhere else.
She ran on bare feet to her door and tugged it open, then peered down the passage to see if the figure at the other end was her bodyguard or someone else. “Flint?” she called.
He looked around. “Yes? Do you need something?”
She motioned with her hand for him to come closer. “Look here,” she said when he stopped in front of her. “This is the handwriting. The same as the scrap of paper I picked up, and the same as that amber message I received.”
He took the notebook from her hands and examined the writing. “Do you know who it belongs to?”
“No. And I can’t find it in any of my other books. It must be someone I’ve hardly ever worked with.”
“Can I take this?” He waved the notebook.
“Um …” Raven thought for a moment. “Yes. It’s an older one. I don’t need anything that’s in it.”
“Okay, I’ll drop it off at the Guild just now when my shift ends.”
“Oh, you’re not staying tonight?” Disappointment settled over her.
“No, I requested this evening off a while ago. It’s—”
“Tora’s birthday. Of course. You told me about it weeks ago, before I even met her.” She shook her head and walked to the vanity. “I made her something, and then with the explosion and the intruder and everything, I completely forgot about it. I’m so sorry.” She removed a small box from the top drawer of the vanity and handed it to Flint. “Now that I know she’s a guardian trainee, I might not have chosen to make jewelry. She probably doesn’t have much occasion to wear it.”
“She likes jewelry, though,” Flint said, “even if she doesn’t wear it that often. I’m sure she’ll love whatever you’ve made her.”
&
nbsp; “Okay.” Raven gave him a shy smile. “Great.”
“Enjoy your party tonight.”
Her shoulders drooped. “Ugh. I wish I was going to the party you’re going to instead.”
“Maybe next time. Tora would love that.”
“Mom, what is Orson doing here?” The party was in full swing, with plenty of giggling, drinking and entertainment going on, and the last person Raven wanted to see had just walked in.
Zalea blinked at her daughter in momentary confusion. “He was invited, of course. What’s wrong with having him here? He’s a friend of yours.”
“He isn’t, actually.”
“Oh. Well you two can become friends tonight then. But remember to talk to as many people as possible. That’s part of being a good hostess. We want everyone to feel welcome.”
Raven almost rolled her eyes. Hosting parties was fun, of course, but she’d far rather host one for ten people than a hundred. “Yes, Mom,” she said with a sigh.
“Have you spoken to Marigold yet? She’s over there with her daughters. Go and tell them all how lovely they look.”
Raven followed her mother’s instructions and chatted politely with Marigold and her daughters. After several minutes had passed, she excused herself to move on to the next person. She was distracted, however, by Orson laughing loudly with one of the waitresses. She stopped beside him. “Good evening, Orson. It looks like you’re having a lot of fun, but I think it might be better if you leave.”
“Hm. My mother’s part of the flower casters society, though. I’m pretty sure I saw my name on the guest list.”
“That was an unfortunate mistake.”
“It’s okay, we can meet up later,” the waitress said to Orson with a wink.
Orson returned the wink and smacked the waitress’s backside as she headed away.
“Don’t be so vulgar,” Raven hissed.
“What? My hand just slipped.”
Without pause, she stamped her heel down hard on top of his shoe. As he cried out and swore at her, she said, “What? I guess my foot just slipped.”
A strong hand with long nails gripped Raven’s upper arm and pulled her away from Orson. “How dare you behave like that toward one of our guests?” Zalea whispered furiously. She tugged Raven across the room and out the door. In the entrance hall behind one of the large flower arrangements, she finally let go of Raven. “What is wrong with you? You’re not a child anymore. Okay, so you’re not interested in Orson. That doesn’t mean you have to physically assault him.”
“Mom, you have no idea what a scumbag he is. The things he’s done and said and lied about—”
“He isn’t a scumbag. He’s the son of—”
“You don’t know him, Mom!” Raven said, clutching her mother’s shoulders. “You don’t know anything about what happened with him and me, or with him and Daisy, or the countless other girls he’s tried to seduce.”
“To seduce?” Zalea looked at her as though she were speaking a foreign language. “What are you talking about?”
“He …” She swallowed. “He tries to convince girls to enter into secret relationships with him. It happened to me—and to Daisy—before he went away for a year.”
Finally, an appropriate amount of horror began to make its way onto Zalea’s face. “Did he—”
“Nothing actually happened. Nothing much, anyway. But Daisy’s worried about having her reputation ruined, so please don’t say anything about her being involved.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this when it happened.”
“Because I felt so stupid that I’d been taken in by his charm. And it was over anyway, so what would have been the point?”
Zalea folded her arms and tapped her foot. “Well. Okay. We shall make sure Orson Willowstack is asked to leave the party immediately. Quietly, of course. We don’t want to cause a scene. Then you and I will go back out there and make sure our guests are having the most wonderful time. You can forget all about Orson and enjoy the rest of the evening. You might even meet some other wonderful young man.”
Raven stood a steadying breath. “No.”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t want to do this. Any of this. I don’t want to host huge parties, and I don’t want to not make a scene about Orson. Don’t you think people need to know what kind of person he is? So at the very least they can all warn their daughters away from him?”
“Yes,” Zalea said, “but that revelation will not be happening at any party of mine. Can you imagine the scandal? I don’t want to be linked to something like that.”
Raven shook her head in disbelief. “Are you really so selfish?”
“No, Raven, I’m smart. A trait I had hoped to pass on to you.”
“Well if this is the kind of smart you’re talking about, then I’m afraid you failed.” She tugged her long skirt up and swept past her mother.
Chapter Eleven
After pacing for a while across her bedroom, Raven changed into the plainest clothes she could find in her closet: blank pants and a pale blue fitted T-shirt. She was certain it was the only T-shirt she owned. She’d never bought or made one, so someone must have given it to her. She couldn’t remember the occasion, though.
She didn’t want to stay here. She didn’t want to go to Daisy’s either. She wanted to see Flint, and it struck her suddenly that these days, he was always the one she wanted to see. But Flint had other plans tonight, and she didn’t want to mess with that. Still … perhaps she could message him about meeting up later.
She picked up her amber, held her stylus above its surface, and realized she’d never sent Flint a message before. She’d never needed to. Before she could ponder whether she was crossing some sort of line she hadn’t previously noticed, she wrote her message onto the amber. As long as she focused hard enough on him while writing it, it should find its intended destination.
Hi. I know you’re at Tora’s party, but do you want to go out somewhere afterwards? Raven
Then she sat on the edge of her bed and waited, chewing her lip instead of chewing her nails. A few minutes passed before a faint jingle alerted her to Flint’s reply.
We’re almost finished. Wasn’t really a party. Just birthday dinner with family. She’s partying with her friends tomorrow night. Where do you want to go?
Anywhere as long as it’s far away from the party currently happening here.
Right. Got it. I’m guessing you won’t be bringing a guard with you then. Meet me at my place in fifteen minutes? I’ll wait outside for you.
Raven was starting to feel better already. She watched the enchanted hourglass beside her bed until about thirteen minutes had passed. Then she switched her lamp off without bothering to arrange any cushions beneath her duvet. If her mother wanted to come in here and check up on her, then she’d find an empty bedroom. Raven was already in trouble for refusing to go back into the party, so why not add another broken rule to the mix?
She walked into the faerie paths and pictured the inside of Flint’s home. Since she obviously didn’t have access to it, the faerie paths brought her out beside his tree. He was waiting for her, leaning in the doorway and staring into the dark, overgrown forest. “Hey,” he said when he saw her. He straightened and smiled, and the tension instantly melted from Raven’s body. She didn’t know at what point he’d become her anchor, her calming influence, but there was no denying it.
“You look different,” he said.
“I know, it’s super plain and boring.” She pulled at the hem of her T-shirt. “All of a sudden I just didn’t want to stand out anymore.”
“No, I didn’t mean plain or boring. You look nice.”
She rolled her eyes. “You always say that, no matter what I’m wearing.”
“I always mean it.”
“He does always mean it,” Tora shouted from inside the house. “He always tells us how—”
Flint swept his hand quickly through the air, sending a snowball flying into the house
. Tora’s squeal a second later told Raven the snowball had struck its intended target. Flint gave her a guilty grin. “She talks too much sometimes. Want to come inside before we choose somewhere to go?”
Raven stepped into the house. “Happy birthday,” she said to Tora, who was lying on the couch with a book.
“Thanks. Oh, thank you for the bracelet ring thing.” She sat up quickly. “I don’t even know what to call it, but it’s so cool.”
Raven pictured the bracelet of silver leaves and the silver pieces that trailed down the back of the hand and connected to a silver ring on each finger. “You’re welcome. I hope you find an occasion to wear it sometime.”
“I wore it tonight. We went out to a nice restaurant, and my dress had silver elements on it, so I figured it kind of matched. Actually, I just wanted to wear it, so it wouldn’t have mattered what dress I had on,” she added with a laugh.
“I’m so glad,” Raven said, perching on the arm of the couch.
“Do you mind if I call a friend quickly?” Flint said, holding up a mirror. “We were going to go out this evening, so I just—”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Raven stood. “That’s fine. I didn’t mean to interrupt your plans. I’ll see you tomorrow at—”
“No, no, you can come with us,” Flint said. “I mean, if you want to. It’s just a few of us hanging out.”
“Okay, well if I’m not imposing …”
“You won’t be.” Flint left the room, and Raven sat on the couch arm again. She was about to ask Tora what book she was reading when Flint’s mother walked into the room. Flint must have warned her that Raven would be stopping by, because she didn’t seem surprised.
“Hello, Raven,” she said. “It’s nice to see you again.” She seemed reserved, though, so Raven couldn’t quite tell if she meant it or not.
“Hi …” Darn it, how did she still not know Flint’s surname? It was so rude of her not to address his mother by name. “I’m sorry for intruding on Tora’s birthday,” she added quickly.
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