by Eva Chase
“Not much good having a baron inside the university if he can’t get done the things that need doing,” Baron Stormhurst muttered.
Aunt Ambrosia shifted beside me, always eager for a chance to make me look bad. “He has taken on so much.” She patted my arm with her cool hand. “Perhaps it’s more than he’s able to handle all at once.”
“The Bloodstone scion has a defiant mind,” I said, ignoring her remark and keeping my voice even. You couldn’t show any emotion around these people if you didn’t want them pouncing on it. I had never been so glad that I was the only one of the present barons who’d focused on Insight as a speciality. The others might have decades more experience than me, but my mental wall could keep out their habitual prodding.
As long as they never decided there was grounds for a real interrogation from the inside out, I was safe. I wouldn’t be able to stand up to all three of them making a concentrated effort—and blocking them in that case could be considered as treasonous as whatever they’d accused me of.
So I had to make sure they had no reason to accuse me.
“It’s taking time, but I’ve unsettled her with the information I’ve been able to pass on about the joymancers. I’ve seen the toll the other scions’ efforts are taking on her. She’s weakening.”
Not really, not hardly, but I had seen bits of pain and worry in her mind here and there, so I could say the words genuinely enough.
“Her mentor has been ill and unable to advise her for quite a bit of the past month too,” I added, watching the faces around me. “That loss of support has clearly put an additional strain on her.”
None of them gave any indication that this was a surprise to them or that they knew more than I’d just told them.
Baron Killbrook shifted in his seat. What had Jude told him about his activities involving Rory, if anything? He didn’t jump in to crow about how his son was pulling one over on the Bloodstone scion, so I supposed that was one more bit of proof that if Jude had some agenda beyond simple affection, it was only his own, not for us scions or the barons.
“You could pay her another visit if your son’s efforts are failing in potency,” Killbrook said to Nightwood. “You said your mere presence frightened her last time.”
Nightwood cut him a dark glance. “From the gossip circulating around the school enough to reach many parents, we’ve gathered Malcolm’s influence has had a rather large impact, actually. The girl has been giving the increasing impression of instability. Some of the families have encouraged attempts at wooing her anyway, but whatever social support she stood to gain in the aftermath of that assessment has greatly deteriorated.”
I stayed silent. Rory could build her support back up. The exercises we’d gone through a few days ago should have strengthened her defenses even while unconscious. However the hell Malcolm was managing to affect her from across the building, his influence was going to diminish. Better if they thought it was the result of her own practice and research than my intervention, though.
That thought came with a sharp little pang and the memory of Rory challenging me that same day about my devotion to the barony. If she had been here and disagreed with something the others were talking about, she wouldn’t have kept quiet. She’d have told them exactly what she thought of their smugly callous attitudes.
And then probably they’d have found a way to beat her down completely, despite her being the only Bloodstone left. I didn’t have even that security. I was easily replaceable.
Still, in that moment, I missed her straightforward, no-nonsense approach. Maybe her priorities and loyalties weren’t all the most sensible, but fuck, she knew how to take a stand.
“Besides,” Nightwood added with a haughty air, “how would it look to the community if we spent our time negotiating with a teenager? Let the boys do their work, and when she’s as wobbly as they can get her, we can bring her in and sort her the rest of the way out here.”
Stormhurst nodded with a blunt grin. My stomach clenched, but I forced a smile as I tipped my head in supposed agreement.
I didn’t know if I could save Rory and myself, but I’d do whatever I could to make sure she was strong enough not to be crushed when that day came. She deserved to take her place here as she was, ready to divide and conquer, lit up with determination to follow what she felt was right. She deserved the chance to come into her own without these jackals who were supposed to be our leaders tearing her apart.
Maybe I couldn’t have her, but seeing her in the pentacle unbroken would make this job I’d taken on ten times more tolerable. I might even start looking forward to the meetings.
The discussion turned to a recent business venture that needed our approval, but tension lingered in the room, thick enough that it itched at my skin. I wasn’t sure how much more time the other barons would give Rory. They were restless to get on with the plans they’d been making before I was around, the ones I was starting to suspect they weren’t going to share with me at all until they believed they could browbeat me out of any complaints I raised four to one.
I left the meeting to a dreary spring day outside, warm but so overcast only thin sunlight penetrated the layer of gray clouds. After I’d sunk into the driver’s seat of my car, I let out my breath fully for the first time since I’d walked into the pentacle building.
Like all the baronies, the Ashgrave estate never wanted for money. I could have had a chauffeur drive me to and from the meetings like the other barons generally did. I liked the feel of the steering wheel beneath my hands and the sense of control that came with revving the engine, though, especially afterward.
I had another tutoring session with Rory tonight. Another hour of tightrope walking between my various loyalties. Another hour of tamping down every other feeling her smiles and wry remarks stirred up in me. All the same, thinking about it, my pulse increased its tempo in anticipation. I couldn’t deny I’d enjoy her presence even with the difficulties it brought.
Back on campus, I had a quick dinner and headed to the aides’ office. I’d gotten there early, but Rory was already waiting by the door, her face drawn. My heart squeezed at the sight of her.
“Hey,” I said carefully. There wasn’t anything unprofessional about asking after a student’s wellbeing when they looked so obviously distraught. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything. This place. It’s so—” She cut herself off with a sound of frustration. “I know you can’t do anything about most of it. I just wanted to get on with the parts you can help with. If I’m too early—if you had something else you needed to get to first—”
“No, it’s fine.” I had been going to look through the archived records involving joymancers for another to add to the growing collection I’d been offering her—for background, for broadening understanding, for recognizing that those people she held in such high esteem were murderers too—but that could wait. “Come on in.”
She strode past me when I opened the door. Rather than taking a seat at one of the tables, she paced from one end of the room to the other between them, her shoes tapping against the hardwood floor. A chill had crept into the room with the absence of sunlight. I flicked on the switch for the gas fireplace on the wall, and its faint warmth started to seep through the room with the wavering of the flames.
“He got in my head again,” Rory said abruptly, coming to a halt. “Malcolm. He managed to mess with me, and I could hold him off but I couldn’t completely stop him. If I had, if I’d been able to get over there in time like I meant to…” She exhaled in a rush. “I know he’s your friend. I know you can’t pick sides or whatever.”
“Yes, I’m supposed to stay out of conflicts between students as long as no official rules are broken. That doesn’t mean I like everything I see.”
What had Malcolm done to her now? Despite all the confidence I’d had in her strength behind the report I’d given to the barons, she did look rattled, more than I’d seen in a while. The urge rose up in me to march right over to wherever M
alcolm was and throttle him until he came up with some other strategy.
He kept doing this kind of thing because it was working, slowly but surely. It would keep working unless I could give her the tools to keep the essential parts of herself steady.
Rory made a dismissive gesture. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m a scion. I’m going to need to know how to stop everyone from messing with me. That’s what anybody here would say, right? I have to learn how to kick people out. I have to be able to cut off a persuasion spell if someone manages to sneak one in. There’s got to be more you can teach me, more I can do.”
“Of course there is.” I stepped closer to her, holding up my hands as if she were a wild animal in a snare that might bite me even if I meant to free it. “Some of the techniques will be beyond me—things you’ll be able to work on with Professor Sinleigh when you move up to having sessions with her, but I do know a few additional strategies you can try.”
“All right.” She shuddered as if shaking the tension out of her body. “Let’s get to it then.”
Rattled and frustrated but ready to leap to the challenge all the same. I girded myself against the twinge of desire that ran through me.
“Cutting off a spell that’s already inside you is tricky,” I said. “The most important factor to start with is a deepened awareness of your mind itself, so you can sense where the magic is working and interrupt it. Close your eyes, and see if you can shift your focus through the different areas in your head—the ones that activate when you breathe, when you move your hands or adjust your posture, when you focus on the tastes in your mouth or the sounds that reach your ears.”
Rory let her eyelids drop, her fingers curling into her palms at her sides. After a few moments, her mouth pressed into a tight line.
“I can’t sort it all out. I’m thinking too much. It’s like the thoughts and feelings keep churning around getting in the way of everything else.”
“That just means you have a fully functioning brain.” I hesitated and let myself walk right up to her. This was what I’d have done for any other student. I just had to keep any of my own feelings out of it.
I rested my index fingers against her temples, just a light pressure. “Focus on my touch. Then spread your attention just a little farther into your mind from there. See what those parts light up to. Let the rest of the clutter fade into the background.”
Her skin was warm and smooth beneath my fingertips. All of me warmed up standing this close to her. It took a conscious effort not to trail my gaze over the slant of her nose, the curve of her cheeks, down to those delicate pink lips that parted just slightly now.
“Okay,” she said, her voice slow and distant. “I think I see what you mean. How do I go deeper than that?”
“Slide your awareness back.” I eased my fingers across her head, into her soft hair. “Push the thoughts back with it. Can you do that?”
Her expression tensed with concentration. Then a little light came back into it. “Yeah. It feels easier when you put it like that. Not completely easy, but…” She opened her eyes, gazing into mine. “Thanks.”
Her hand came up, probably intending to replicate the pressure point herself, but it ended up settling over mine. She hesitated and then let her fingers slip around my palm to give my hand a gentle squeeze of gratitude.
Her gaze darted down to my mouth, and in that moment she was barely shielded at all. I hardly needed to reach to absorb the thought at the front of her mind. She was thinking about kissing me. Wanting to kiss me, with a longing I could taste. It echoed through me, drawing out my own.
She didn’t, though. Just as easily as I’d gleaned that first impulse, I felt her clamp down on it and hold herself back.
For my sake. Because I’d told her I couldn’t, and she had too much honor to cross that line. Fuck, that only made me want her more.
She had more self-control than I did in that moment. I couldn’t quite force myself to pull back from her. My other fingers came down to brush over her hair, the most innocent of caresses. Rory swallowed audibly, her eyes locking with mine again.
No one was here. No one would know if I gave in just this once. If I offered what Jude no doubt already had. Whatever the hell he was up to when it came to Rory, I didn’t trust his intentions to be totally pure. Up until now, he’d gone through girls like daily specials.
If I showed her she could have me that way after all, maybe she wouldn’t fall for him. Maybe it’d be just one more way I was protecting her.
I wanted to believe that, and that was the problem. I couldn’t trust my judgment. I was just looking for excuses.
I lowered my head, not to bring my mouth to hers, but just to bow it next to her, my cheek brushing her temple where my fingers had rested a few minutes ago. My hands came down to rest on her shoulders.
“I can’t,” I said hoarsely.
“I know,” Rory said. “I wouldn’t—I wasn’t…”
She didn’t seem to know how to go on. Suddenly it seemed very important to make one thing clear, to let her know she wasn’t alone.
“It’s not just for me. What we’re doing here—it’s the only way I can protect you. I don’t want anything else distracting me from that.
She nodded, just slightly, her hair grazing my face with its sweet smell. “Okay. Okay. Thank you.”
She should wait to thank me until I’d actually succeeded.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rory
When I came out of my bedroom the second morning after the concert, most of my dormmates were hanging out in the common room, eating breakfast or just chatting. All of them got a little quieter at my entrance, which was normal these days even though I’d managed to get through the past night with no nightmares at all. They all also directed their attention away from the bedroom door farther down the room—the one that had been Shelby’s.
Someone had conjured a burst of rainbow glitter around two words in twinkling silver script. Goodbye feeb!
The words set my jaw on edge. The message wasn’t for Shelby. The glowing writing was clearly magical, and no one here would have dared to break one of the school’s few but particularly firm rules: Never let the Nary students witness anything they’d realize was magic.
But no one in this room had to worry about a Nary student seeing that display. Shelby had been sent home yesterday. With her fractured wrist, she wouldn’t be able to complete the last few weeks of the term or the special summer session. Unless it healed unusually fast, she probably wouldn’t be able to keep up with the other student musicians for months after that either.
Chances were, she wasn’t coming back. A fact she’d clearly known from the agony written on her face as she’d left.
As soon as I’d heard about the decision, I’d gone to Ms. Grimsworth in protest. This was a school for mages, for fuck’s sake. If I could conjure dragons out of the earth and ice out of the air, surely someone here could meld a broken bone back together. Shelby didn’t have to know it’d ever been broken.
“It’s against school policy,” the headmistress had said, so calmly I’d wanted to scream. “The safety of our students and their ability to continue operating within the Nary world undetected is our first priority. Several other Nary students witnessed Miss Hughes’ fall. Miss Hughes saw and felt for herself how badly her wrist was injured. There’s too much chance of someone noticing signs of the supernatural at work if we attempted to simply wipe the fracture away.”
“It’s not fair,” I’d said. “She worked so hard to be here, and she only fell because of a stupid prank she had nothing to do with.”
Ms. Grimsworth had been unmovable. “We provide the Naries with opportunities and training beyond any they’re likely to find elsewhere in exchange for the benefits they provide to the other students’ training. She was lucky to have gotten as much instruction as she did here, free of tuition. I’m sure she’ll find plenty of options open to her in the Nary world once she’s recovered—naturally, without magical i
ntervention.”
Shelby wouldn’t see it that way. She’d kept trudging to classes half delirious with fever because it’d mattered so much to her to keep her spot. I hadn’t been able to figure out anything else I could do for her, though. Even if I’d wanted to risk healing her myself with whatever fallout might come from that, I had zero medical training. I might have made her arm even worse.
And now someone—most likely the angelic-faced, viper-temperamented girl whose lips had curled into a smirk at the dining table—had decided to rub that failure and my friendship with Shelby in my face. I’d have liked to stuff a shovelful of glitter down Victory’s throat.
“You look a little sick,” Cressida sniped from her seat next to Victory. “Another bad night for Princess Bloodstone?”
The nickname Connar had used affectionately and then in taunting grated on my nerves. If I was acting weird right now, it was because of the crap they’d done with the full intention of upsetting me.
I held my anger in check and glanced over at the two of them, keeping my tone perfectly neutral. “I’m fine. Just thinking about how pathetic it is to slap someone in the face and then mock them for their cheek being red.”
Victory’s gaze snapped to me at that comment. She stood up, flicking her auburn hair over her shoulder. “I don’t think ‘pathetic’ is the kind of word you should be tossing at other people. You want to throw down? Make it a real challenge. I’m right here.”
Did I want to get into a magical battle with the queen bee of Villain Academy at this particular moment? Not really. I had enough on my plate without escalating the tensions between us into full-out war. Anyway, it would annoy her more if I acted like I didn’t care.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” I said as evenly as before. “I never wanted to fight in the first place.”
She made a derisive sound and dropped back into her seat. “Because you know you’d never win.”