by Marisa Mills
“Why not?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Because I can’t afford to fail this,” I said. “You’ve made it clear you’re only interested in the journal. I thought, if I bought a little more time, I could find it.”
“That’s all the more reason to be honest with me,” he said dryly. “You aren’t the only one with stakes in this.”
“You can’t send me back,” I said. “Not yet. And you can’t tell my uncle.”
“Can’t I?”
“He’ll hurt the people I care about,” I said. “To punish me. If you really are a gentleman, you’d be honorable, right? I don’t think an honorable man would be fine with innocent people getting hurt. Not when it can be avoided.”
For a long moment, Dorian watched me and said nothing. I didn’t like that about him, the way he silently thought everything through before he reacted. I’d have preferred he scream at me, so I’d know where we stood. I didn’t realize the tears welling up until I wiped them away. They might have worked on Du Lac, but Dorian was too smart for that.
“I’ll gladly let you cut off one of my fingers if you just—”
“Finally, an opportunity to maim an adolescent girl. Truly, something all gentlemen dream of doing,” Dorian said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I didn’t want to get in trouble,” I said. “I mean…I didn’t know.”
I sounded so pathetically childish.
Dorian was quiet for a long time. “Did you tell Markus anything about who you really are?” he finally asked.
“I haven’t told anyone,” I replied. “Why?”
“It seems like quite a wager to assume that you would steal from me rather than telling me about his plan,” Dorian replied, “And I don’t believe Markus would have told you to unless he expected you would actually do it.”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Have you told anyone?”
Dorian offered his arm. “A few people. Maybe there’s a spy in my house. That’s something Fran and I will need to investigate,” he said. “Let’s take a walk.”
He offered his arm, and I took it almost out of habit.
“But isn’t it bad if Markus knows I’m stealing for you?”
“We don’t know if that is something he knows,” Dorian said. “It’s a guess. If he has an informant, he may think I’m having you steal to cover my gambling debts. The only person who knows I’m after something else is Fran, and she wouldn’t tell anyone. Either way, he’ll probably be watching you very closely now.”
“What about the tiara?” I asked. “Are you going to give it to him?”
“You are going to give it to him,” Dorian said, “And for now, we’re going to pretend I know nothing about this. I know there’s nothing special about that tiara. But if Markus wants to waste his time looking, I see no benefit in dissuading him. It might even work to my advantage.”
“So that’s…it?” I asked, still worried that he might have some punishment in mind.
“Far from it,” Dorian replied.
He steered me out into the gardens, and I realized the fence here was much shorter, only waist high. I trembled as we drew up next to it. All it would take was one good push to send me tumbling over the edge of Reverie.
“I’ll confess to being frustrated with the way my investment in you is playing out,” Dorian said, gazing out over the horizon with his hands folded behind his back. “This deception should have run its course by now. The longer we continue, the more likely we are to be caught.”
I winced. “I’m sorry.”
Down below, I could see the glint of domed rooftops in the Gardens, an assortment of marble salons, lavish fountains, and carefully cultivated gardens, red in the setting sun, like the whole city was on fire.
“In two weeks, the Academy will hold its winter examinations. If you fail those, you’ll be dismissed, and I’ll lose the access I require. So I need you to find that journal very quickly. I’m aware you’ve managed a little magic, but I can’t count on you passing examinations meant primarily for people who have spent their whole lives in Reverie. We managed to cheat and gain you entrance to the Academy, but we won’t be able to cheat at these.”
This was it, then. I was almost out of time, and I wasn’t even entirely sure how I’d managed the little magic I had. The fire was Lucian. But what about the sigils? I’d made lightning somehow, but it was an accident. I had no hope of passing official examinations when I couldn’t even keep up in my classes.
“So maybe you’re in need of some additional motivation,” Dorian said. That sounded a lot like a threat. I looked up at him quickly, my pulse jumping.
“You aren’t going to…hurt anyone, are you?”
Dorian shook his head. “There’s something your uncle Gabriel has failed to grasp, and that’s this: if you abuse the people around you too much, eventually, one of them is bound to slip oleander in your tea,” Dorian said. “If you want people to perform well, you need to be willing to give them a little, and I think you’d like a new life with Briar and Sterling, far away from your terrible uncle. In the Gardens, perhaps.”
My throat tightened. It felt like a trap somehow. Like an agreement with too many unspoken rules. He was offering me a way out, the one thing I’d always wanted. But why would he promise so much, for one stupid journal?
“Really?” I asked.
He nodded. “You have my word. You’re a smart, resourceful girl. It’s up to you, now.”
It sounded too good to be true, and it all hinged on Dorian’s word, which meant after I’d done everything he wanted, he could just rid himself of me. But maybe this was the best chance I’d get. He certainly had the means. For a luxurious moment, I looked down over the sweeping landscape and dared allow myself to dream of a life of freedom.
He’s just trying to win your loyalty, so you take more risks, Lucian said.
Maybe. But if that was what it took for Briar and Sterling to escape my uncle Gabriel, it didn’t really matter all that much. I’d have sold my soul to make them happy.
Twenty-Three
THE TIARA WASN’T PEARLS AND sapphires, actually, it was pearls and blue diamonds. I knew it was probably the most expensive thing I’d ever held, and although it was in a completely nondescript box, as I returned to the Academy I was terrified that someone would figure it out and try stealing it from me. There were so many people in Reverie, and most of them were far more powerful than I was.
You realize, Lucian said, that this nobleman’s word is probably only good when it benefits him. There’s no reason for him not to drop you right back where he left you when this is all over.
“But so far he’s been honorable.”
He hired a teenage girl from a terrible person he met in the Lower Realms, and despite his talk of honor, he’s seemed fine until this point letting your uncle’s threats control you. Your nobleman is fine with dishonorable behavior, as long as he isn’t doing his own dirty work.
“So what do you think I should do?” I asked.
Pawn the crown and buy a new life. That’s more guarantee than a nobleman’s word.
He was right. That idea made more sense. And what if I couldn’t find the journal in the two weeks? My only option, then, would be to pass the final exams. Without cheating, which seemed impossible.
And you’re assuming that he’d be content to let you keep trying, Lucian said. Eventually, he’s going to want to cut his losses.
“You also said we should steal this from Dorian,” I pointed out.
So I was wrong once, Lucian replied. Besides, it wouldn’t have been a problem if you hadn’t gotten caught.
“I’m going to find that journal. It has to be…” I trailed off, thinking.
Dorian and Du Lac weren’t looking for the same thing, but maybe there was some overlap. Dorian had only denied looking for Guinevere’s charm; he hadn’t denied looking for something tied to her. If it wasn’t in the archives, maybe Du Lac
had the journal. I knew where his office was, and I even had a reason to be there. I could at least look.
So you’re casting your lot with the nobleman, huh? Lucian asked bitterly.
“I have to hope he’ll be true to his word,” I said, “And besides, if I steal it, we’ll be on the run forever.”
Lucian sighed. Fine, if that’s really what you want to do. I think this is a terrible idea.
Of course, it was. But it was a terrible idea that might make life better for Briar and Sterling, without having to worry that some mage was going to hunt me down trying to retrieve a stolen tiara. And it was a much better deal than I’d been offered so far, which was to risk my life for nothing more than the chance to return to the drudgery and hardship of the Scraps.
I sighed in relief as I walked into the Academy. Almost there. I headed upstairs, tracing the path back to Du Lac’s office. I half-hoped he wouldn’t be in, so I could search through his private library. That would make my life easier. But I was also eager to get rid of the priceless tiara so it wouldn’t be my responsibility any longer. After rounding the corner, I found the door to Du Lac’s office open. And there he was, at his desk and bent over a massive volume.
For a few seconds, I stood awkwardly in the doorway and waited for him to notice me. When he didn’t, I cleared my throat. Du Lac’s eyes snapped up. “Close the door.”
I stepped inside and did as he asked. Then, I placed the box on his desk. He opened it and pulled out the tiara. It glittered like a cluster of stars, all the gemstones and metal brightened by the flickering candles and lamps in his office. I had an irrational fear that if I so much as breathed on the tiara too hard, it would shatter to dust.
“Hm,” Du Lac said. “So you are good at something. Thievery is to be expected, considering where you’re from.”
Did he think I was a lady from Argent, or an orphan from the Scraps? Either way, I bristled. I was a lot more than a thief, and I’d have loved to prove it to him. But I had to focus. “What do you want that for?” I asked.
I didn’t expect him to tell me. I was stalling for time, so I could look over his bookshelves. He had so many books, though. I was surprised that the room wasn’t falling apart simply from the weight of them all.
“That’s no business of yours,” Du Lac replied. “Your time would be better spent worrying about your exam. At the end of the semester, all students participate in a tournament showcasing their skills, and if your performance in my class is any indication of your other talents…”
“It isn’t,” I replied.
He smirked and waved me out. I let out a breath of air and headed to the dormitories. I’d have loved to show Du Lac that I really could use magic like the mages. It wasn’t as if my sigils didn’t do anything. They just didn’t do what I wanted. I wished I could prove to him that just because I was human didn’t mean I was worthless. But the ability to control magic was everything up here. Without it, it was obvious I didn’t belong.
I collapsed on my bed, vaguely aware of Viviane. I expected her to immediately begin interrogating me, but when I looked over at her, she was busy looking at a jar of berries and trying to compare them to something in a book. No, not berries, I realized. Deadly nightshade.
“Are you going to poison someone?” I asked.
“No,” Viviane replied. “If you pick deadly nightshade by moonlight and freeze it, you can use it for potions.”
So maybe Dorian wasn’t poisoning his enemies.
“It’s for class.” She added quickly. I wasn’t sure if she meant, she was taking a potions class, or if she was taking potions for class.
“You like potions a lot,” I said, remembering the blue concoction she liked to drink.
“They’re useful,” she replied, sounding thoughtful.
“I’m sure,” I said.
After that, she said nothing. I furrowed my brow and watched her for a few minutes. This was the nicest she’d ever been to me, and that worried me. Something was definitely wrong.
***
I was in a clearing surrounded by trees. The full moon shined overhead, luminous and orange, accompanied by a dotting of stars. A faint breeze drifted through the clearing, causing the grass and the treetops to sway and bend. And there was Lucian, his dark eyes watching me.
“Do you make this place?” I asked. “In my dreams?”
“Yes,” he replied. “I can’t do it to everyone. It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I said.
“I think there’s a good deal you haven’t seen,” Lucian replied.
“So why am I here?” I asked.
“I thought you might want to practice—just in case you do have to take the final examination,” Lucian said. “I think I did promise to teach you some swordplay. Don’t worry, you’ll wake up as rested as always, maybe more so.”
“You aren’t going to set me on fire, are you?” I asked, drawing my rapier.
Lucian laughed and unsheathed his blade. It gleamed in the moonlight, with a delicate, engraved handle and a slight curve. It was larger than my rapier, but Lucian spun it over the back of his hand like it was as light as a feather.
“I’ll try to refrain,” he said.
I moved into a fighting stance and waited. When he struck, he was fast and elegant. The green gemstones on his silver armor caught the light as he moved. I parried and shifted my weight, hoping to turn the movement into a strike of my own. But Lucian was too quick for me. I struck again and again. As I struggled to keep up, I began to get careless, forgetting everything I’d ever learned about swordplay and just trying to hack through his defenses. Each time I thought I saw an opening, it was just a trap to pull me off balance before flicking the tip of his blade to scratch across my skin. He was right, he was better than Alexander. Smooth but unpredictable.
Our blades crossed, and he shoved me backward until I struck a tree, sending a jolt of dull pain up my spine. Lucian pushed, until my own blade lay across my throat. “Never let yourself get pinned by a stronger opponent. What you should have done, is either stepped aside or pulled out a knife,” Lucian said, voice light with mischief. “You should always keep one with you during swordfights. You could’ve stabbed me in the thigh or my stomach and used the distraction to move away.”
“That doesn’t sound very honorable,” I replied.
“I’ve never thought much of honor,” Lucian said. “It’s a completely unsustainable system, built on the assumption that everyone in the world is equally honorable. And sometimes, you must do dishonorable things for your own survival, and there’s no shame in that. But you know that already, don’t you?”
Lucian lowered his sword and offered me his hand. I pushed it away and felt for the mark I was sure he’d left on my neck, but there was nothing there. Apparently, I couldn’t get hurt in our shared dream, and I also didn’t seem to be running out of energy. I lunged at him again, taking him by surprise, and landed my third strike against the plated armor across his ribcage.
“I know that sometimes you have to do bad things to survive,” I said, brushing back my dark hair. “But that doesn’t mean it’s right.”
“And I’m sure after some scoundrel kills you,” Lucian replied as we traded blows. “He’ll really enjoy listening to your ghost recount to him the many benefits of being honorable.”
“But what if you’re like Gabriel?” I asked. “He survives by doing awful things. I’d rather die than be like that.”
“Then, think of it as evening the field,” Lucian said. “Most of your opponents are going to be more skilled than you, so you need every advantage you can get. It’s hardly fair for someone who’s only learned proper swordplay for a season to be expected to compete with people who have learned for a decade.”
Somehow he managed to stab through the hilt of my sword and yank it away. He flung it to the side where it embedded into a tree with a twang. He pointed his sword at me, but I spun around
the tip of the blade and wrapped my arm around his neck, pulling him down to the ground with me on top. It was a move I’d practiced for weeks with Sterling.
I smiled in triumph, until I felt the warmth between our bodies. I knew this was just a dream, but this felt too real. Lucian was handsome, at least in this form. But is that what he really looked like, or was this just a form he thought I’d find pleasing—an illusion like the rest of our surroundings? For the first time, I wondered what monstrous shape he’d take in the real world.
“What about magic?” I asked, walking over to pull my sword free from the tree.
“Hm?” he asked, standing up. Was it just me, or were his cheeks flushed?
“How can I use it? I’m only a human.”
“What’s the difference between a mage and a human? Intention and confidence. They are bred to know magic is possible; you are raised with the understanding that it isn’t. It is our beliefs, not our abilities, that position us in life.”
“So what, just believe in myself and I can move mountains?” I scoffed.
“Something like that,” Lucian shrugged. “I wish I had the answers. But I don’t know mage magic much better than you do. Perhaps, all humans can learn magic, and the mages haven’t told them. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve called a race inferior based on falsehoods.”
“I’m sorry, Lucian,” I said. I still didn’t know exactly what I was apologizing for, but I could tell he’d been hurt by the mages.
He nodded distantly. “Keep a knife close at hand,” he said, giving me a brittle smile. “You never know when you’ll need to stab someone.”
“Right. In the thigh or the belly.”
“Or anywhere,” Lucian said. “I wouldn’t be above stabbing a man in the back. Gabriel deserves nothing less. A cowardly end to a cowardly man.”
“I’m not going to murder Gabriel,” I said, “Even if this doesn’t happen like I want.”
Lucian sheathed his sword and approached me. He lightly grasped my arm, pushed up my sleeve, and traced his fingers over the scars he found. I trembled at his touch but tried not to show it.