by KC Kingmaker
“She’s only known she’s one of us for a matter of days. Sir.” It felt strange defending Coralia. My mouth spoke for me, opening before my mind could stop it. Trying to recover, I added, “I believe it’s best to give her some time. She will come into her own.”
“One can only hope. Do you believe Miss Jade and Miss Hargrave will continue to butt heads now that they aren’t roomed together?”
Another shrug. I was full of them. “I don’t know, sir. It’s entirely possible. Genevieve has a vendetta against all humans, it seems. She was the same way with Myria, Coralia’s sis—”
“I know who Myria Hargrave is, Donovenn.” He snapped the words out angrily, which surprised me. “Speaking of which, has Coralia mentioned her sister at all?”
“Not that I’ve heard.”
“See that you’re around her if she does.”
“Yes sir. Again, is there anything specific I should be looking—”
“I’m curious to know if she wonders about Myria’s absence and whereabouts.”
“They’re sisters, sir. I’m sure she does. Wrist Hudson has told Coralia that Myria is on a mission somewhere.” I frowned, frustration boiling inside me. “Which I’m assuming is a lie.”
Alaric bowed his head, swishing his beard across the desk. “I’m afraid so, son.”
“We have no idea where she is?”
With a flare of his nostrils, the headmaster said, “I have some ideas, but I will not speculate. This is information only you are privy to, understand?”
I tucked my chin. “Yes sir.” It felt special knowing I held a secret with Headmaster Cane that no one else shared.
Clearly, the headmaster was suspicious about Coralia, for some reason. I couldn’t out-and-out ask why, because I was supposed to simply be a vessel for his demands—a body for him to order around. It wasn’t my place to ask questions, especially ones that might anger him.
He still had leverage over me. I wasn’t foolish enough to dig myself into a position where I’d have to face Alaric Cane’s wrath. That was a fool’s errand. I needed to appease the headmaster, which meant I needed to be a better spy. However, it was becoming increasingly difficult to do that. I had compromised my integrity by falling for the girl.
It was something no one could know.
Ever since seeing Coralia “fight” Genevieve—if it could even be called that—and perhaps before, I had found myself drawn to her. Drawn to her in a way I’d never been drawn to Myria, even when she was one of my closest comrades in Hudson’s Glove.
There was something light and airy about Coralia that attracted me to her. An indifference to what anyone thought about her. She was so unlike the stuffy academics and prideful students of Shadowblade Academy. So different than even her sister.
Through all of her grim humor, explosive curiosity, and dark style, Coralia had an easy confidence that must have been fostered over years in the human world. Perhaps she had been shaped by tragedy, like so many of us. I couldn’t articulate exactly what it was about her—I just knew Coralia Hargrave was magnetic. Her pale, lively beauty also didn’t hurt.
The thought aggravated me. If I’m going to be a good shadowblade once I’m done with the Academy, I have to learn to separate my emotions from my job, I told myself for the thousandth time. I can’t get attached.
Damn me for getting stuck in this position!
“The look on your face, Donovenn. You have something you want to tell me.”
I glanced up from the desk, eyes flashing wide.
Headmaster Cane had said it as a statement, not a question.
I had no idea how long I’d been silent. Shit. Stupid, daydreaming in front of the most observant man in the Academy. I came up with the first thing I could think of—something I’d been saving and thankfully could use as an ace in the hole. “I’ve offered to be Coralia’s Alchemy tutor, Headmaster. We’ve scheduled meetings at least once a week.”
After a beat of silence, he gave me a nod. “Ah. Maybe you are taking this assignment more seriously than I originally thought.”
I bowed my head. “Of course, sir. I am here to serve.”
“Well, I want you to serve better.” His voice threaded between anger and exasperation. “Make it two meetings a week. Try to involve her in things to get closer to her.”
“Yes sir.”
With that, I was dismissed.
I still had no idea what Alaric Cane was searching for. All I knew was my job had become more difficult—in just a few short days—the more I’d gotten to know Coralia Hargrave. And I’d barely even skimmed the surface.
I dreaded thinking about how I’d feel the next time I was asked to report to Headmaster Cane. Because I knew what this school was, and what students were trained to do. I wasn’t foolish.
I wouldn’t be a simple spy forever.
I knew what Headmaster Cane would eventually ask me to do . . . and the proposition of that scared me more than the headmaster himself.
I LEFT FORT NOCTURNUS and rushed across campus. The problem with the clandestine meetings with the headmaster, and not being able to tell my brothers about them, was I always had to come up with a silly lie in order to see him.
This time, I had told Dax and Sunny I was trying to get with a girl at the mess hall. “Mess around at the mess hall,” Sunny had joked.
We had a Glove meeting and I hated being late, but it couldn’t be helped. I would tell the guys I had failed in my lustful mission, and that would hopefully be that.
I made my way across the green parkway as a shortcut, wrapping my thin jacket tight around my body. It was a cold night and the air burned my lungs. The chill reminded me more of the unforgiving Unseelie Court than the human realm.
I took a deep breath when I got to the Gable Training Facility. Thanks to my last name, and Jace Hudson being our Wrist, our Glove used it to stage meetings and train afterhours, which definitely gave us an advantage over other Gloves.
And why not? What had Headmaster Cane said? “Be in it for yourself.” Shadowblade Academy was ruthless and cutthroat. My brothers and I would take any advantage we could.
Dax and Sunny were inside the dojo conversing, their voices carrying across the large, airy room.
I perked my brow as I walked in and locked the door behind me. Sunny was drawing some kind of schematic on a whiteboard, his body language animated. He had a list of names circled, and then positions on a field where those names might correlate.
Dax sat on the blue training mat, poring over a few slips of paper in his hands. His body posture told me he was vexed.
“What about Benji Gamlet?” Dax asked, his head moving from the papers to the whiteboard where Sunny stood.
Sunny scoffed. “Gamlet? You mean mashed potato brains?” He crossed the name off the board with a red felt marker.
“He scored well in Physical Intent.”
“He’s also two sandwiches short of a picnic, Dax.”
I chuckled as I came up behind them.
Sunny’s eyes narrowed on me. “Ah, the prodigal son returns. Tell us of your conquest.”
I shook my head and tried to make my best disappointed face. “There was no conquering.”
Dax said, “Your escapades couldn’t wait until after this meeting?”
I glanced down at him. “I saw an opening and took my shot.”
“And missed, apparently,” Sunny sneered.
“Yep.” I gave him an innocent smile. “Guess not everyone can flirt and canoodle like the great Sunder Conway.”
Sunny took an exaggerated, mock bow. “Thank you. The skill takes hard work.”
“Yeah, a skill honed over decades,” Dax grumbled.
Sunny said, “It’s not my fault I’ve had more time to, as Venny so eloquently put it, canoodle.”
I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “Okay, okay. What are you guys up to? Looks like Shadowball prep.”
“We’re at our wits’ end, Donovenn,” Dax said. He stood from the mat so I didn’t tower over
him.
“Nonsense,” Sunny replied. “I’m just getting started. I could do this all night.”
“Yeah, because you’re up all night,” Dax snapped. He put his thumb to his own chest. “This Phantom isn’t a vampire. I’m on a normal sleep schedule.”
“Now you know the secret to my charms,” Sunny said, winking. “I have more nighttime experience, if you will. It’s not my fault I—”
“Enough,” Dax growled, slicing a hand through the air. “Let’s get onto the next name.”
I carded a hand through my silver hair. “What is it you guys are trying to do, exactly?”
“Wrist Hudson came to us,” Dax said. “Shadowball season starts in a few short weeks and we’ll have to sit it out if we can’t find two Knuckles to fill in.”
I frowned. “Shit. Two Knuckles as good as Quentin and Myria?”
The room went silent. Dax bowed his head somberly.
“No,” Sunny said. “Just good enough to play.”
Dax raised his chin. “What about Finley Winston?”
Sunny barked a laugh. “Are you kidding me? She’s the main squeeze for Hawkins’ Glove. She’d never turncoat. Frilly has her by the short and curlies.”
It was a shame, because besides being one of the most lauded students at Shadowblade Academy, Finley Winston was also a badass Shadowball player.
Dax trilled his lips like a flapping horse. “Wish we had Quentin here. He was always better at strategizing this shit.”
After another somber silence filled the room, they got back into it, returning to their list of candidates. I let them bicker for a little while longer, eyeing them but saying nothing. Meanwhile, my brain was brewing.
I knew one man in particular would hate what I was cooking up.
“Look,” I said, cutting into one of Sunny’s soliloquies. “Forget being two sandwiches short of a picnic. We’re two fingers short of a Glove and we’re in pretty desperate shape.”
They both turned to me. Dax looked blank, Sunny looked suspicious.
“We need to fill the spots fast,” I continued.
Sunny sighed. “Yes, comrade, which is why we’ve been squabbling about it for a fucking hour. What’s your point?”
Headmaster Cane’s words played in my head. “Well, we need someone moldable, who can fit into our scheme, right?”
They both nodded. Now Sunny looked even more suspicious, his wispy brow raised high on his smooth forehead. For some reason, my heart started thudding harder in my chest.
“I’m gonna throw a name out there.” I locked eyes with Sunny. “But I’ll tell you right now, you aren’t gonna like it, sunshine . . .”
Chapter 17
Coralia
I STOOD ON THE GRASSY meadow of the park, alongside my classmates. It was the middle of the afternoon, the sun beating down overhead, casting long shadows on the field. A swift breeze swept the grass, blowing my hair around my face.
I made the intricate hand gestures I’d been taught, that had since become muscle memory, then extended my hand toward Charli’s shadow in front of me.
Nothing happened.
The wind blew again. I huffed and dragged my hand through my hair, getting it out of my face. Grunting in exasperation, I stamped my foot. My eyes scanned the other Ghosts, all of whom were manipulating shadows and progressing in their studies.
Some students could get their shadow to act independently from their body, making limbs creepily move in a macabre dance. Charli had managed to mold my shadow into a formless blob, which frightened me because I felt like it was strangely attached to my body, like a piece of me had been momentarily transformed.
The first time Charli had morphed my shadow, we had cheered and hugged each other.
But that had been nearly three weeks ago.
It was crazy how something I’d never paid much attention to my whole life—my shadow—was now becoming the center of my world.
The frustration was mounting and I was reaching a boiling point. I should have been able to do something by now, yet every time I made the incantations toward a shadow, nothing happened.
Every once in a while I felt a spark of something inside me, clawing at my belly when I did the signs and motions, as if untapped energy wrestled inside me, wanting to get out. Apparently I was a horrible conduit though, because thus far I couldn’t even move a shadowy pinky.
Something wasn’t clicking. Either I wasn’t doing the movements right or I was a maladapted Abnorm. I feared that my captors and the headmaster had been wrong about me.
Why can’t I tap into my power?
Professor Gareon Lews, the lean, handsome professor of Shadow Manipulation, was supportive but not very helpful. As he circled around the students, giving them words of encouragement and applauding them on their successes, he came to me and frowned. It had been like that every day now, and I was getting tired of failure.
“Keep trying to draw within yourself,” he said. I attempted to clear my mind until there was nothing left but air between my ears. He continued: “Let me see your motions,” and I repeated the spell with no success. Then he grunted, pushed his frameless glasses up his thin nose as he studied me, and had no further suggestions. He turned away, the coattails of his trench coat waving in the breeze, and I watched him go aid another student, a hopeless sinking in the pit of my stomach. Ad nauseam.
It was so aggravating it made me want to strangle someone. Gareon Lews was supposed to be knowledgeable on the subject. He probably was, and it was just that he’d never run into this issue before. Anyone who came to Shadowblade Academy had been vetted.
I was starting to think I didn’t belong, which also angered me. Having students like Genevieve say I didn’t belong was one thing, but for my own actions—or inactions, rather—to prove her right was almost too much.
At this point in the semester, I was ready to take the midterm, flunk out, and call it a day. Go back to New Orleans and reclaim my job alongside Marlow at Lindon’s thrift store, and get back to my meager life.
The main thing keeping me from doing that was my damn pride. I couldn’t bring myself to give up. Charli was a great cheerleader and, to be honest, things had gotten a lot better, overall, since my poorly-planned fight with Genevieve Jade.
Things hadn’t been horrible since I’d started rooming with Charli. I kept my distance from Genevieve and Sunny. For the most part, they let me be. It brought my stress levels down tremendously.
Now I just need to get these fucking shadows to move!
Class ended and I let out another heavy sigh. Charli jogged up to me with a sad pout. She wrapped an arm around my waist. My shoulders slumped as we walked off the fairway, the grass still swishing in rhythm behind me.
The days had been beautiful over the past week or two. The Shadow Manipulation course was taken at a particular time in the day when the shadows were just right—big, hearty silhouettes that should have been easy to manipulate.
“How the hell can Genevieve wrap tentacle shadows around my legs like an alien porn monster and I can’t even get a wiggle out of a wall shade?” I whined as we moved from the grass to the pavement.
Charli patted my back. “You can’t compare yourself to anyone, boo. Especially not Vivi Jade. She’s been training since Briarwitch Academy. She was destined to be a shadowblade even as an undergrad.”
“It’s not fair.”
“I know, Cor Cor. You just have to fight your own battles. I hate to say it, but Vivi isn’t your enemy here.”
I glanced at her out the corner of my eye. “Are you about to tell me I’m my own worst enemy?”
She blushed and shot me a sheepish smile. “I was trying to avoid saying it.”
“I appreciate that.”
We continued toward the mess hall. Shadowwalking was our next and last class of the day. Obviously I was having just as many problems there as I was in Shadow Manipulation. If I couldn’t shape a shadow, how the fuck was I supposed to walk across them?
I was pretty s
ure my root problem was connected: I simply couldn’t access my power. I came in here with such promise. Now I’m sputtering out like a spent candle. No wonder Genevieve hasn’t been fucking with me, she doesn’t even need to do anything for me to humiliate myself! Staying quiet and watching me flounder is making her look like a genius right now—like she was right about me the whole time.
Humans weren’t meant to be at the Academy.
I blinked hard to shake my head of the thoughts. Charli was right: I needed to stop comparing myself to Genevieve, and instead try and do better the next day.
A thought came to me as we reached the doors of the mess hall. “Since when have you been calling Genevieve ‘Vivi,’ huh? I thought only her friends called her that.”
Her freckled cheeks stained red. “Well, we’ve come to a sort of understanding . . .”
My eyes widened as she trailed off. “You have?”
She snorted and a high giggle escaped her lips. “No. I just don’t give a heck anymore.” She beamed at me. “I learned that from you, Cor Cor!”
I let out a humorless chuckle. “Great. I guess I’m not completely useless then.”
“MISS HARGRAVE, DO YOU remember what shadowgates are?” Professor Avery asked. I wasn’t sure if it was a rhetorical question, because we’d been over it every day since the course started.
“Um, yes, Professor. They’re the roads between the worlds.”
The diminutive woman chuckled. “You make it sound like a pseudoscience when you put it that way, girl.”
Eva Avery was verifiably tiny. She wasn’t more than five feet and barely came up to my chest. I wasn’t convinced she wasn’t just a tall halfling. She could be a bit condescending, yet she made a great Shadowwalking professor because of her stature and her sneaky demeanor. She always snuck up behind me like a ninja, which usually startled me when I turned around and she stood there like she’d been there the whole time, examining me as I failed to move through shadows.