by Marisa Mills
“I’ve known some exceptional men from the Lower Realms,” Dorian said.
I really hoped he didn’t consider Gabriel an “exceptional man.” If so, Dorian was clearly lacking in taste.
“I dunno—I mean, I’ll do fine,” I replied.
Viviane narrowed her eyes. I hoped she hadn’t noticed my slip of the tongue. I really was trying to speak properly, but it was so hard. I’d never had to worry about the way I talked before.
“I suppose we’ll see,” Dorian said.
“If she passes, will you bring her to the opening gala?” Viviane asked.
“Why shouldn’t I?” Dorian asked.
A gala? I felt the color drain from my face. I didn’t know anything about galas, but this seemed like an easy way to get caught. Viviane clearly only wanted me to go because she thought I’d botch it up somehow.
“Because Eleanor will kill you,” Viviane said, smirking.
I looked at Alexander, whose face revealed nothing. Maybe he was privy to these sorts of conversations all the time, but it seemed strange to imagine people joking so easily about killing one another.
“Eleanor can try to kill me,” Dorian said, sounding as if he might genuinely enjoy the attempt. “Many people have before. Perhaps, she’ll get lucky.”
“Well, we’ll see you later, Uncle,” Viviane said. “And—what was it? Summer?”
Hilarious.
“Yes,” Alexander said, looking away like he was already bored with the conversation. “We’ll see you later.”
I watched them for a while as they walked away, eventually leaving through a tall, gilded door. “Your niece, huh?” I asked. “Your family seems…lovely.”
“Viviane is really a nice girl. Most of the spiteful things she says are things she’s learned from Eleanor. I expect she’ll grow out of them someday,” Dorian said, “And if it wasn’t for Viviane, Eleanor and I probably would have killed one another by now. I know if my sister sends one more spy into my household, I’m going to return a corpse.”
Was he serious?
“But for now…” Dorian trailed off. “Did you see the necklace Viviane was wearing?”
“I did.”
“If Viviane is still wearing it at the gala, I want you to steal it,” Dorian said.
My blood froze in my veins. I’d be too concerned with tripping over my own feet to worry about stealing a necklace right off someone’s neck.
“And then what?” I asked, stalling for time.
“I’ll take it home,” Dorian replied. “This task doesn’t have anything to do with what I’ve hired you for. I just want to see if you’re as good as I’ve been told, and this has the added benefit of angering my sister.”
I wondered how good exactly Gabriel had said I was. No doubt he’d laid it on thick.
“And if I’m not as good as you’ve been told?” I asked.
“Then, I’ll take you back.” He dropped the threat easily, like it was no big deal. He must know Gabriel would torture me for failing, or worse.
A servant, clad in a knee-length, modest dress walked past. I guessed she was human, like me. Mages had a certain glowing confidence about them. But she looked better than I ever had. Her face wasn’t thin like mine. She probably didn’t have scars either. I swallowed hard. I’d always known the world was unfair, but that realization had never struck me so strongly before. I wondered if things would have been better if I’d been born here, like this servant. Would serving the mages be better than scavenging all day?
Realistically, I knew the answer was yes. It was cleaner and richer here. That woman looked well-fed. But I childishly clung to the Scraps. Sure, they weren’t like this, but they were my home. They were familiar in a way that this place wasn’t. And I’d already seen enough casual cruelty from the mages to know I could never lower my guard up here.
“I wonder where they keep the wine,” Dorian said.
“I’m sure they’d tell you if you asked,” I said.
I didn’t want to talk about wine, especially with the realization that even if I could trick these mages, Dorian might still send me back to my uncle if I didn’t pass his arbitrary and pointless test.
Dorian strode onwards, seemingly oblivious. “Should you ever get the inclination to purchase a fine wine, you should be aware that cheap and expensive wines both taste the same,” he said.
“Do they?” I asked.
He nodded. “I’ve been serving cheap wine for months, and despite the many rumors that have spread about me, no one has ever criticized my wine.”
“That seems…distasteful,” I said, “After your mother…”
“The rumors began long before Mother died. My sister Guinevere killed herself,” he said, “And time doesn’t erase a scandal like that.”
I shuddered at Dorian’s latest revelation. Why would a rich, powerful mage even think about killing herself? Despite the situation, it was hard not to feel a little sympathetic towards him. He’d lost both his sister and his mother.
“Why would that be scandalous? That’s—that’s terrible. I can’t even imagine how…” I trailed off. “I’m so sorry.”
“In Reverie, most consider suicide shameful,” Dorian said. “But mastering magic isn’t without its dangers. Sometimes, young mages can’t control their powers, or are driven to madness. Accidents are fairly common. But suicide is treated as a sort of a… weakness in your bloodline. People are wary of marrying into a family that they think is marked by a failure to master magic.”
Was magic even worth all of that? It seemed like it’d be easier not to have it at all.
“But don’t worry over the magic. You’re just pretending, after all,” Dorian said.
Easy for him to say. Dorian was only serving as the middleman. I was the one perpetrating the fraud. I was the one who would be breaking into a school filled with mages. All Dorian had to do was dance and drink wine, while I risked my life stealing a journals and jewelry. Viviane was just a student, like me, but I wondered how much magic she already knew, and what she’d do to me if I were caught. Something told me she wasn’t the forgiving type.
Eight
THE BELLS RANG, WHICH ACCORDING to Dorian, was the sign that we were meant to reconvene. We gathered into a ballroom with a small crowd of people. I picked out Alexander and Viviane, still clinging to his arm. Above us, there was a balcony. Two mages stood there, overlooking the crowd. One of them was Celeste, in her white and gold dress. Beside her was a man with a cleanly shaven face and long, dark hair. His skin was so pale it looked like he’d been carved from marble. It stood out against his dark suit and gray cloak.
The air shimmered and Celeste’s voice filled the room.
“Welcome, everyone,” she said. “I am Celeste, headmistress of the Academy. With me is Markus, serving as this year’s Council representative. The preliminary testing is now complete, so we’ll have everyone move to the main testing hall.”
“Well, here we go,” Dorian whispered.
“Please, continue to the testing room,” Celeste said.
Markus took over, giving directions to the room, but Dorian needed none. He grasped my arm, firmly but not roughly, and led me out of the ballroom.
“Now, comes the hard part. Remember what I said about this,” Dorian said.
Third try, summon my fire. Pass but don’t draw too much attention to myself. I slipped the device further up my sleeve. It needed to be close at hand, but also completely hidden.
“Right,” I said, taking a deep breath. I’d been practicing for weeks but hadn’t managed to replicate any of the effects I’d displayed the night I’d tried to run away, no matter how much I begged the device. Still, I could produce a burst of cold flame easily, and I’d always been decent at basic sleight-of-hand. I’d just never done a magic trick for mages before.
Dorian and I were the first to arrive. We emerged in a massive auditorium. At the front of the room, there was a long table; the rest
of the room contained velvet-covered seats. Servants ushered us into them. Dorian ignored the instructions to sit where directed and instead, chose to sit as far away from everyone else as possible. No one seemed to care enough to stop him. Then, we waited. Alexander and Viviane walked in and headed straight for the front row. A few more people filed in, taking seats closer to the front. Celeste and Markus arrived shortly after. “The benefit of your last name is that you’ll get to see the others go,” Dorian said.
But that didn’t mean I would do any better. These people had actual magical powers, and I had a device that was probably illegal.
Viviane was first. She moved onto the stage with a bold sort of confidence. A small stool was placed before her and a large stone of some sort placed in the center. I wished Dorian had moved us closer. Celeste handed Viviane a card.
“What will happen,” Dorian said lowly, “is you’ll be handed a card with an incantation. If you’re a mage, the object before you should respond to your powers.”
Viviane began chanting, her words so soft that I couldn’t make them out. Nothing happened. I shifted in my seat, watching. Celeste said something I didn’t catch.
“Sometimes, even the most powerful of us don’t get it on the first try,” Dorian said.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
I was supposed to get it on the third try, which meant I’d have to pretend to fail twice, and I’d never been great at acting. Viviane was still trying, with a look of concentration on her pretty face. Suddenly, the world hissed and shifted. Flowers blossomed from the stone before her. Bright green leaves and delicate purple petals tumbled over the stool and down onto the floor. Viviane laughed loudly, the sound edged with relief. She bowed and exited, amongst the smattering of applause.
“Is she good?” I asked.
“It’s hard to say,” Dorian replied. “The stones are enchanted to react to magic and indicate which elements you would most easily align yourself with. They don’t show how powerful you are.”
“Do you only get one power?”
“No, it’s just that you learn some things easier than others. Most of us are really good at a few different things.”
“What are you really good at?” I asked warily.
“Allow a man some mystery, won’t you?” Dorian asked.
Like he needed any more mystery.
Alexander went next. The stool remained in place, but a new object was placed upon it. He was handed his card. Alexander read it over a few times. Unlike Viviane, who had stood back, Alexander scooped up his object and held it in the palm of his hand. That was a good idea, it would make my deception easier. Hopefully. He spoke softly, too, and after a few moments, a gentle breeze blew through the room. The heavy purple curtains flickered and rippled like water, letting in shards of bright light from outside.
Alexander returned the object to its place and bowed. Then, he returned to his seat. There were a few more, each of them managing to perform magic, but none of them on the first try. But still, they all made it look so easy. What if my device didn’t work at all? A cold chill of panic crept under my skin, and a tremor ran down my spine when they called my name.
“Wynter Wilcox!”
My knees shook as I stood. I thought I might vomit or pass out as I made my way to the stage. I curled my fingers into the palm of my hand, ignoring the stares and whispers. The device was nestled in my sleeve. Now, it really was my lifeline. I had to make this work.
As I climbed onto the stage and looked at the judges, Celeste smiled encouragingly. There was a flutter of movement as Dorian moved closer, holding his glass of wine out primly as he navigated his way through the seats. I wondered who kept supplying him with alcohol. It didn’t seem right that he was so relaxed, when both of us had so much riding on this deception. He sat beside Viviane, who briefly pulled her gaze from Alexander to him.
“Hello,” I said lamely, waving my fingers at the several dozen mages in the audience.
Had people fainted from this before? If I passed out now, would I get another chance to redeem myself? This was it, the big moment I’d spent weeks preparing for, but it didn’t feel like I’d had nearly enough time. I’d have needed months to make this work, and even then, I’m still not sure I would have succeeded.
Celeste approached the stage and placed my object before me. It was a blue circle, made of some stone I didn’t have a name for. My hand shook as she handed me my card. Blue stone, full of light, I command you with my might. Whatever that was supposed to mean. There was no way I could possibly manage this.
“You’ll do fine,” Celeste said. “Take your time.”
Celeste returned to her seat. I reached for the stone, shifting my arm so the device slipped down my sleeve, and caught it deftly in the palm of my hand. I took a deep breath and chanted the poem. Nothing happened. I feigned disappointment and glanced to Dorian, who looked—for the first time all day—genuinely interested. And again. Nothing happened.
Maybe I should’ve ignored what he said and tried it on the first time. What if nothing at all happened when I got to the third time and tried it for real?
“Just breathe,” Celeste said. “Sometimes, it takes a few times. Whatever you’re thinking, you do belong here. You’ve shown powers.”
Viviane whispered something and giggled, I saw Alexander smirk. I wondered if they were laughing at me. It was now or never. I tilted my wrist forward, just enough to swipe my thumb across the device. Blue flames burst forth from my hand. Perfect.
I raised my hand, and the flames crept forward, forming a semi-circle on the stage around me. I grinned victoriously. Then the ground shook. Faintly at first, and I thought I was just feeling dizzy until I saw the lamps swinging overhead. Then all at once, a rushing howl filled the auditorium, and the stage buckled and shook. My hand shook, and the flames burst across the floor and up the heavy curtains. Someone screamed as a chandelier crashed to the ground. I fell to my hands and knees, and thought I saw a dark shape creeping along the wall. It looked like a monster, but that was impossible. There couldn’t be monsters up here. The smell of something burning, the scent of something sharp and chemical, hit my nose.
An ear-splitting crack came from above and I looked up in time to see part of the ceiling, gold and enamel, falling towards me. Before it could land, a bolt of ice crashed into it, sending shattered enamel skittering away. I gasped for air. Everything seemed to be happening too fast and too slow all at once. Celeste and Dorian, sword in hand, thundered onto the stage, Markus close behind.
“Are you all right?” Celeste asked.
The device was still in my hand. I curled my fingers around it and slipped it back into my sleeve quickly. “What happened?” I asked.
“A quake,” Dorian said. “They’re happening more frequently. More severely, too.”
Alexander mumbled something from his seat. I didn’t catch the words, but Viviane shot him a warning look.
Celeste helped me to my feet. My mouth tasted like ash, and when I looked over my shoulder, I saw that the heavy velvet curtains were scorched and blackened. But I hadn’t done that. I couldn’t have done that. The device just cast the illusion of shadow. It couldn’t make actual flame.
“The curtains,” I said.
Dorian laughed. “I suppose I do owe them a new set, yes.”
“I—I didn’t—they’ve never been real before,” I stammered. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, what’s a little damaged fabric?” Celeste asked. “Don’t fret about that. It was probably related to the quake.”
“The quake?” I asked.
Celeste nodded. “To a small degree, your ability to harness magic is tied to your emotions. Obviously, the quake startled you, resulting in a much stronger reaction from the testing stone.”
I nodded, biting my lip. That would make sense, if I were actually a mage. Dorian must have made the flames real, to better sell
it. But why did he have to be so dramatic with it?
“I told you she had magic,” Dorian said smugly. “Can I take this to mean that Wynter has earned her place at the Academy? Surely, you don’t expect her to retake the test after this.”
The judges exchanged looks with one another.
“I vote,” Celeste said slowly, “that we move to admit Wynter.”
“I agree,” Markus said. Markus’s voice betrayed nothing, but there was something predatory in his gaze. I wondered if he suspected some kind of deception, and if he did, why was he letting me in anyway? That’s when I realized, I’d actually passed. I’d fooled the judges, and they were going to let me into the Academy of magic.
Nine
TRUE TO HIS WORD, DORIAN did take me back to the Scraps. Or Plumba, as I was supposed to call them. For the trip, I’d worn my usual dark pants, blouse, and jacket. Francisca saved them but had them washed. They were stiff with starch and smelled like roses. When I caught a glimpse of myself in the window of the carriage, it was surreal. My face looked too bright and clean to belong with my old, ragged clothes.
I clasped my hands in my lap and leaned my head against the cool glass. Outside, rain pounded on the carriage, beating out an erratic rhythm. Across from me, Dorian was silent and sprawled over his seat as if it was his personal goal to take up as much room as possible. At first, he’d been reading a book about how memories are formed. He promised it was riveting if you had an in-depth understanding of modern philosophy and a certain branch of magic, but later discarded the book and declared it contrived.
I wondered if I ought to ask about it. I was going to the Academy. It would be beneficial to know as much about the mages as possible. But I didn’t feel like talking. I pulled my knees up to my chest and let my feet rest on the edge of the seat. Dorian glanced at me, but said nothing about my dirty boots on the lush fabric. Maybe he didn’t care.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.