by Marisa Mills
But could I do it? I had no idea how the mages would punish such a crime. As horrible as Gabriel had been to me, he was still my uncle. He’d known my parents, and if he was locked away somewhere or executed, I’d never learn anything else about them.
And what if it didn’t all go as nicely as I planned? What if Gabriel’s absence only made things worse? It was too easy to imagine one of his underlings rising instead and taking his position. I drew in a sharp breath and glanced at Dorian, so beautiful and terrible all at once. Just like the ice he’d summoned to threaten my uncle. My eyes darted towards his sword. “Are all mages as threatening as you and Francisca?” I asked.
“Francisca isn’t a mage.”
But she was so beautiful! “What does she do for you, then?” I asked.
“I tell everyone she’s my apothecary,” Dorian said.
There was clearly an implication there, but I couldn’t quite grasp what it was. “Why is your apothecary involved in all this, then?” I asked.
“Francisca knows deception well,” Dorian replied.
I tightened my grip on the device, drawing comfort from the quiet hum of the magic. “What’s to keep me from spilling everything at this exam?” I asked. It was a stupid question, but it seemed like Dorian was placing far too much faith and trust in me. Gabriel would have unleashed a dozen different threats by now, making sure I’d act according to his plans. He anticipated betrayal, while Dorian had the quiet confidence of someone who never doubted his peers. Which made him naïve, or very dangerous.
“I would insist it was only a bit of mischief,” Dorian replied, “Which means I would pay a small fine for wasting everyone’s time and return you to Gabriel. And after collecting my fee from your uncle, I would take my leave.”
I nodded and absentmindedly reached beneath a sleeve of my blue, velvet dress and brushed the device over the scars spanning up my arm. The coolness of metal met the heat and bumps of my skin. If I failed, I’d end up back in the Scraps, with my uncle. There would be a punishment, for sure, but eventually things would just go back to normal. I could live with that.
“And what happens if we succeed?” I asked.
Dorian seemed to mull something over for a few seconds before finally offering an ambivalent shrug of his shoulders. “It depends on how this plays out,” he said.
That wasn’t really an answer that inspired confidence.
“Do you enjoy living in Plumba?” Dorian asked.
“That’s where my brother and my best friend are.”
“And your uncle,” Dorian replied.
“Yes, he’s there, too.”
“Need some wine?” he asked.
I tried not to smile. Sure, my uncle would probably drive anyone to drinking, but the joke wasn’t really that funny. And Dorian was terrifying. I was suddenly aware that we were trapped together in a glass box, hundreds of feet above the ground.
“No, thanks,” I replied.
“No, thank you. And suit yourself,” he replied breezily.
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Why me?” I asked.
Dorian arched an eyebrow.
“Why did you choose me for this?” I asked. “My uncle doesn’t usually deal in human trafficking.”
Dorian hummed and stirred his wine glass. Well,” he said, “I’ve had dealings with your uncle in the past. That’s all. I told him I had a plan, and he agreed to provide a girl.”
“But why not a lady? Or a call girl. I’ve heard there are some girls that even cater to mages in the Gard—in Argent.”
“That would work brilliantly, unless—of course—a former client saw us. Citizens from Reverie occasionally go to Argent. Plumba, on the other hand, remains a very unpopular destination.”
“If I pass the test, will you let me say good-bye?” I asked, the question coming out softer than I really wanted it to.
“Of course, I will,” Dorian said. “I’m not a monster, Wynter.”
Oh, but he was. Something told me he was far more dangerous than my uncle, despite his fancy clothes and easy smile. He sighed at my expression, and turned away to look out the window. I followed his gaze and gasped as we cusped the edge of the cliff, revealing the Floats for the first time. The whole city seemed to be made out of gleaming metal and crystal, reflecting the pink sky in an array of dazzling lights. Dorian finished his wine glass and set it down on the small table.
“Do what you’re supposed to do and to the best of your ability, and everything will be fine,” he said, as the car slowly came to a stop.
I gripped the handles of the cable car tightly, like they were an anchor linking me to the ground. The door opened, and Dorian gestured for me to get out. A footman was waiting in a silver uniform to take my hand and help me down the steps. I held the hem of my dress and cautiously stepped onto the paved surface, as if the floating city would shatter into a thousand pieces.
Seven
WE WALKED FROM THE STATION to the recruitment center. To my disappointment, the tall buildings were right beside one another, separated by narrow alleys, which meant I only caught tantalizing glimpses of everything else. Quick flashes of people and buildings, carved statues and decorative gardens, elegant shopfronts and restaurants. These buildings were even nicer than the ones I’d seen in the Gardens. Tall, silvery gates opened as we entered a sprawling courtyard, with patches of snow clumped between unnaturally precise bushes that framed the entrance with green columns. I spun around, trying to take it all in at once. The building before us was as white as starlight and shimmered in the sun.
I started when Dorian linked his arm with mine. I knew this was how proper ladies were escorted to proper places. But still, it took my mind a few minutes to catch up with the gesture.
“Overwhelming?” Dorian asked. “This is only the recruitment center.”
We walked up a flight of gilded stairs and into a massive room. My throat felt dry. Never before had I felt like my uncle’s section of a decaying subway was small, but this single room looked more massive than the entire system. The walls and floor were white and trimmed with glistening gold. A large, crystal-laden chandelier sparkled overhead. Across the room, there was another massive staircase with elegantly carved banisters made of polished and gilded wood. Everything was bright and perfect.
I was wearing my best blue dress, but suddenly felt every ounce of deception and fraudulence weigh down upon me, as if they were physical weights upon my shoulders. I didn’t belong here. That was going to be obvious the second I went into the exam.
I was so distracted I didn’t see the woman approach until she was right in front of us. She was wearing a white dress trimmed with gold, and a choker lined with bright, circular crystals. Her long, white hair was pulled back and styled in elegant coils. She had a warm face with fine lines around her eyes and over her forehead, and when she smiled at me, I instinctively smiled back. Even if her skin glowed in a distinctively magical way, there was something friendly about her. She would’ve been old enough to be my mother, I thought suddenly, if I’d had one. Her arms, bare from her elbows down, were lined with shimmering, silver symbols I didn’t recognize. I remembered that Dorian had something drawn on his wrist, although I’d forgotten to ask what it was.
“Your Lordship,” the woman said, dropping into a curtsey.
Lordship?
Dorian offered a bow that seemed either absurdly overdone or facetious. “Good morning, Celeste,” he said. “It’s been a long time.”
Celeste’s face softened. “How are you getting along without Amelia?”
“As well as I can be, considering the circumstances.”
Amelia?
“I’m glad,” Celeste said. “And I assume this is Wynter?”
“Yes,” Dorian said. “This is, indeed, the luminous, young lady.”
The woman smiled. “Welcome,” she said, “I am Celeste, headmistress of the Academy. Lord Rosewood has told me so much about you.”
“
Pleasing, I hope,” I said.
That sounded like the right thing to say.
Celeste’s laughter was very sweet and delicate. “Of course,” she said. “Why, the committee has been so eager to meet you! We haven’t taken a mage from Argent in decades! If you’ll follow me, I can start the preliminary questioning. Following that, I will report my findings to my colleague, and then, we will continue with the magical examination, where we measure your skills and your magical potential.”
We walked through several hallways, all gold and white. Each was more lavish than the last. Maybe if infiltrating the Academy didn’t work out, I could steal a couple of things from here. My eyes darted to the heavy, shining curtains and the gilded, crystal mirrors hanging on the wall. The frames alone must be worth a fortune.
We entered a room—a parlor, my studies had taught me. I’d expected something bare and formal, but this room was bright and airy. Celeste seated herself on a tapestry-backed chair before a polished, elegantly carved table and gathered a stack of papers in her hand. She gestured to the loveseat across from her. I seated myself beside Dorian, nervously shifting my feet, clad in silk slippers, on the beautiful woven rug beneath me. I didn’t belong here, and that was becoming more and more obvious by the second. I wondered if Celeste already knew, and was just playing along. I squeezed the device, as if it was a lifeline, the only thing keeping me together through all of this.
“Now,” Celeste said brightly, “Tell me about yourself, Wynter…Wilcox?”
I flushed, acutely aware of how little my first name matched my family name. “My uncle was very bad at naming children,” I said.
“He’s bad at many things,” Dorian said.
I laughed, more from nerves than amusement. Celeste’s smile grew indulgent; I wondered if she thought I was stupid, or if she looked down on the lower realms like everyone else. Warmth rushed to my face. I wasn’t some sheltered little girl, and I was sure that there was some lurking ugliness beneath the pristine cities in the Floats, too.
“I grew up like anyone else,” I said. “I had my uncle and my brother Briar. My best friend.”
Celeste scribbled down a note. I wondered what exactly she’d taken from the phrase “like anyone else.” I paused and shrugged. “I…um…” I trailed off, trying to remember my rehearsed past. “I survived by working in a shop.”
“And what did you sell?” Celeste asked.
“Embroidery,” I said.
Hopefully, Celeste wouldn’t ask for a demonstration.
“Oh!” Celeste exclaimed. “Tell me about your education, then.”
“My—uh—the merchant I worked for made sure I had a good one. I learned to read. I learned manners, algebra, geography…” I trailed off. “Accounting.”
“Any singing or dancing?” Celeste asked.
“No,” I replied, “Unfortunately. But of course, I’d be very eager to learn.”
Celeste nodded. “Swordplay?”
I had slashed at a few monsters. Clubbed a couple of others with a rusty blade.
“Not really,” I said.
“So tell me about your magic,” Celeste said, without looking up from her papers.
Her pen moved quickly across the page. Hopefully, that was a sign of eagerness, rather than suspicion.
“A man tried to steal from the merchant I was working for,” I said, “And I panicked. I mean, it was a lot of merchandise and worth a lot of money. So I just kind of—um—I dunno. I had this really overwhelming feeling, and I thought I’d set him on fire—”
The pen stopped. Celeste’s eyes, a stunning shade of violet, met mine with a look of intensity that took my breath away. “You thought you set him on fire?”
“It was an illusion,” I said awkwardly. “It looked like flames, so I thought I’d set him on fire. But then, I realized it wasn’t real. I still got the wares back, though.”
I gulped and clasped my hands together in my lap.
“I have seen Wynter’s powers,” Dorian said, “And I will personally vouch for them.”
Celeste put her pen against her lips. “And I assume you’re going to continue to sponsor her, Your Lordship?”
“Of course,” Dorian said, winking, “I’m not going to abandon my little mage now.”
Little mage?
“Noted. I think that’s all I need for now,” Celeste replied. “Feel free to wander the grounds. We’ll make an announcement when it’s time for the next round of testing.”
“Thank you,” Dorian said.
He bowed again and sauntered from the room. I offered Celeste an awkward smile before lifting my skirts and following. “You didn’t tell me you were royalty,” I said, once we were out of Celeste’s hearing.
“Nobility,” he replied. “I’m a count.”
That meant nothing to me. Sure, it was a title, but I had no idea where exactly that title fell or what it meant.
“Am I…” I trailed off. “Am I allowed to ask about Amelia?”
“She’s my mother.”
And Celeste had asked how he was getting along with her. Now, I knew what she meant. “I’m so sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be. My mother did two good things her entire life. One was having my sisters and me. The other was dying, and even then, she left me with quite a mess,” Dorian replied.
I stared at him, unsure what to make of his clear disdain for his mother. Maybe he felt about her the way I felt about Gabriel, but even then, I felt like I’d have been a little sad to see him die. He was still my family.
“Should I call you Your Lordship now?” I asked.
I probably owed him a few curtsies, too.
“Call me whatever you wish,” he said dismissively.
We passed a tapestry, featuring six clouds, formed with intricate stitches of silvery-white thread, and beneath them, six green areas. A map. I located Reverie and let my gaze drift down to my home. Dorian had shown me maps, but those were only of the Lower Realms or of Reverie. I’d never seen a two-layered version like this, one above the other. “Is this really what the world looks like?” I asked. “Reverie looks smaller than I’d imagined.”
Dorian paused and glanced at it. “Reverie is relatively small, compared with the other kingdoms,” he replied. “Most of the people you meet will be from Reverie or Aubade, our neighboring kingdom. Celeste, herself, is from Aubade.”
“How do you know her?” I asked.
“She taught my sisters and me at the Academy,” Dorian said.
“But Celeste looks the same age as you,” I said.
“By that, I hope you mean Celeste looks like she’s forty and not that I look like I’m sixty-five,” Dorian said dryly, “And of course, she doesn’t look as old as she is. She uses magic to give her a younger appearance. Most of us do.”
Not my mother’s age, then. Celeste was old enough to be my grandmother. “So is the drawing some sort of magic she taught you?” I asked.
“Drawing?”
“You both have those drawings on you,” I said.
“They’re tattoos,” Dorian said, rolling up his sleeve.
The design looked something like a blue flower, or maybe a snowflake. “One of the skills mages can learn is how to draw sigils. You can have them permanently marked on you, and they grant you certain powers. Mine prevents demonic possession.”
“Is that something that happens a lot?” I asked.
“Not for most people.”
Most people?
“Hello, Uncle,” a delicate, feminine voice cut in.
I spun around. The speaker was a girl about my age, with long, black hair and green, cat-like eyes. She wore a long navy dress fringed with pink, which seemed designed to emphasize her small waist, definitely the result of her corsets. Around her neck, she wore a magnificent necklace of white gemstones. She hung on the arm of a boy who was dressed in bright green and gold. His hair was the palest blond I’d ever seen, nearly the color of sunlight. I f
elt warmth rush to my face as I realized I was staring. I don’t think I’d ever been this close to someone so handsome.
“Hello, Viviane. Alexander.” Dorian paused, seemingly contemplating something. “This is Wynter of Argent, my charge.”
“Your charge?” Viviane asked, arching an eyebrow. “Are you getting lonely in your old age, Uncle?”
“No,” Dorian replied, “But thank you for your concern. Are Frederick and Eleanor here?”
“They aren’t,” Viviane said. “Thankfully. I won’t have to spend the rest of the day worrying you and Eleanor are going to kill each other.”
“I’ve been to Argent,” Alexander said, looking me over. “It’s not terrible.”
Not terrible? What sort of praise was that? Argent was beautiful, more beautiful than any other place I’d seen in the Scraps. “It is,” I replied. “Thank you. The Fl—Reverie is nice, too. From what I’ve seen of it so far.”
Alexander stared at me like I’d just said the stupidest thing in the world. “As if any place could compare to Reverie,” he said.
Well, then.
“I assume you just completed the preliminary testing?” I asked, trying to match his level of obnoxiousness.
“We did,” Alexander said. “Not that either of us needed it.”
“Yes,” Viviane replied. “We passed with ease, but of course, that isn’t a surprise. I do wish you good luck, though, Wynter. It’s unfortunate what happened to the last mage from the Lower Realms.”
“What happened to him?” I asked.
Dorian shook his head and looked at Viviane with a sort of fond exasperation. “Aren’t you a little old for ghost stories, Viv?”
Viviane shrugged. “I’m just warning Wynter, so she isn’t disappointed if something goes wrong. I wouldn’t want her to be in over her head. I mean…Argent isn’t the worst place ever, but it’s still the Lower Realms.”
My face grew hot, and I bit back a snide remark. If I was going to pull this off, I needed to work as hard possible not to be noticed. It was clear Viviane and I would never be friends, but I couldn’t afford to make enemies on my first day.