by Marisa Mills
“You came to see me,” I breathed.
“Of course we did,” Jessa said.
“Even though you know what I am, and where I’m really from?”
“I’ve never cared much about what people say,” Tatiana shrugged. “I make my own judgments about people. You saved me from a demon, remember? It was going to kill me, and you stepped in front of me with your flaming sword. That took courage, not magic. More courage than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“I’m so sorry I lied to you,” I whispered.
She squeezed my shoulder and I leaned my forehead against hers, suddenly overcome with emotion. Alexander stood off to the side as the three of us embraced. A moment later, there was more murmuring outside and a disgruntled woman’s voice. When the door opened again, Francisca walked in. I half expected to see Dorian behind her, but she was alone.
“Everyone,” she said, with a curt nod.
Alexander scowled. “Hasn’t your master done enough?” he asked. “Or did he send you to poison her so she can’t reveal his secrets?”
“I don’t think the blame falls solely upon my master’s shoulders,” Francisca replied. “Even you must realize there are limits to His Lordship’s powers.”
“He didn’t even try,” Alexander said.
“I don’t want to talk about him,” I said. “Please.”
Francisca held her hands up, as if in surrender.
“What’s going to happen to me?” I asked. “They haven’t told me anything.”
Alexander hesitated. “You’re…I’m going to give you twenty lashes, Wynter,” he said, “And then, you’ll be exiled from Reverie.”
For the first time I noticed the leather whip coiled at his side.
I shivered. I’d never been whipped before.
At least you’ll get to keep your fingers, Lucian said.
“Why are you doing it?” I asked.
Alexander’s face darkened. His blue eyes darted to the guards. “Father thinks I ought to administer justice,” he said, clearing his throat.
Jessa hugged me so tightly that I thought she might never release me. “You’re going to be fine,” she whispered into my ear. “I won’t let this happen.”
But how would she stop it? Jessa was just a student. Like me. She didn’t have any special powers, and even if she tried to help me, she’d fail and get in trouble herself. I clasped my chained hands over hers and tried to memorize her face. She was so pretty and warm with a tiny cloud of peach-pink freckles, spread like dandelion fluff over her nose and cheeks.
“Don’t, Jessa,” I whispered. “Let it go.”
Jessa shook her head and squeezed my hands. “Never,” she said fiercely.
“But look at you, Jessa,” I said, nodding to the mage tech protruding from her spine, runes glowing softly through the fabric of her dress. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been hurt.”
“Oh, Wynter,” Jessa replied, “this wasn’t your fault. Have you thought that? All you’ve done is encourage me. You were a friend, when I needed one most. Now, I’ll be the same for you.”
My chains rattled as I wiped away the tear that was running down my cheek.
“I have to go,” Tatiana said, her green eyes fierce and determined. “But I’ll see you later, Wynter.”
I forced a smile for her. But she probably wouldn’t. After my punishment, I’d probably be dumped back into the Scraps, and spend the rest of my life digging through the mages’ garbage heap. Reverie would be as distant and unapproachable as ever, a light in the sky, as cold and distant as the stars. I swallowed around the lump in my throat.
“Bye, Tati,” I said, squeezing her hand.
Tatiana smiled and left without another word.
“Everything is going to be fine,” Francisca said, stepping into her place.
“For Dorian, maybe,” I said bitterly, “but not for me. Once they’re finished torturing me, I’ll be returned to my uncle.”
Francisca’s face softened.
“Yes,” she said, “but you aren’t the same girl you were when he first found you. You’re stronger now. More than you know.”
“What difference does that make?” I snapped. “My uncle will be worse than ever. He tried to kill me last time, did you know that? He’ll probably finish the job this time. I’ll probably be dead in a week.”
“You are not without allies,” she said, reaching towards my cheek. “Dorian will protect you.”
“He’s done a great job with that so far,” I said, lifting my chained hands.
“For what it’s worth, I do understand,” Francisca said. “My master is…a difficult man.”
I scoffed at the idea of Dorian just being difficult. I could think of far worse things to call him. It was his fault I was even here. I’d known he wouldn’t help me if I got caught. It still hurt, though, that he was going to sit back and let all this happen. Francisca didn’t understand at all. Not really.
“It’s time, Your Royal Highness,” a guard said.
Jessa squeezed my hands a final time.
Guards swept in the room, flanking us on all sides. One of them reached for me, pulling me towards the door.
“I’ll take her from here,” Alexander said, gently taking my elbow.
The guard fell away with a bow.
I tried not to tremble as Alexander led me down the hallway. These were the chambers where the Council passed judgment, and their steps led to the forum. I remembered it, all marble and crystal. I lifted my chin, despite my bare feet and the thin, white shift trailing around my ankles, I didn’t want them to think I was defeated. The chains chaffed my wrists, already rubbed red and raw.
Two more guards opened the doors for us. A path had been cleared through the large crowd that had already gathered, filling the forum steps and spilling out into the streets. My stomach churned, and my head felt light. I had to keep going, but my whole body felt frozen.
“Wynter,” Alexander murmured, his voice low and his breath warm on my neck. “I was wrong. You do belong here. More than you know.”
If I hadn’t been so terrified, I might have laughed.
“I’ll remember that when you’re whipping me,” I said.
The crowd grew louder as Alexander and I approached the platform. I recognized a few of my classmates and teachers in the audience. Celeste was standing off to one side with her arms crossed. She looked furious, but she made no move to intervene. Near her was Gareth. In the center, a large red velvet couch had been set up for the king, taking up enough space for twenty people.
One step and we were up on the wooden platform that had been erected in the middle of the forum. A heavy, iron-banded box had been placed in the center. Bile rose in my throat as we approached it.
Despite Dorian’s professed disdain for watching beatings, he’d taken a position near the platform and was already halfway through a glass of red wine. When I glared at him, he raised his glass in a mock toast. I turned my gaze to Viviane. She stood nearby with Eleanor and Frederick, both of whom looked very angry. Viviane smiled tentatively, like she was trying to offer some final, small measure of comfort.
I heard shouting and saw the guards approaching with another prisoner. Autumn’s tangled red hair shone brightly in the sun, and she raised her eyes to meet mine with defiance. The guards led her towards a post that had been erected near the entrance, across from me, and chained her hands above her head.
My breath hitched uncomfortably, threatening to strangle me. Was it my fault they’d caught her? I’d already let her go once, when we were both pretending to be ladies in the market. How long ago that seemed now. How had she even gotten up to Reverie, and what had she been doing in the king’s chamber?
A shadow passed over me, and I jerked my head up. King Gregory stood over me and gazed coldly down at me. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. I watched, transfixed as he turned to face the crowd. A bolt of fear shot through me as he unsheathed his sw
ord.
“People of Reverie!” the king shouted, holding his arms spread wide. “Years ago, during the mage wars, this forum was used to administer judgment. After decades of peace and prosperity, revolutionaries from the Lower Realms have infiltrated our ranks, posing as nobles in order to get close to the crown and destroy our kingdom from the inside.”
A cry of protest rose from the crowd. I wondered if they might bolt onto the stage and attack me. That might be preferable to the fate that awaited me. In the Scraps, they’d be throwing rotten fruit, but there was nothing rotten in Reverie.
“The punishment for treason is death. However, the crown has decided to be lenient in this case. Their lives will be spared, but their crimes cannot be ignored. Today, you will witness the punishment of anyone who seeks to harm our people.”
He nodded towards Kit, and he approached Autumn with a pale face. He looked like he was going to be sick.
“Remove her tongue and eyes,” the king commanded. “That should keep her from looking beyond her station or manipulating eager mages.”
Kit’s eyes widened, and the crowd gasped, leaning forward in morbid fascination.
It wasn’t an unheard of punishment, in the Lower Realms, but I didn’t expect anything so brutal from the mages. But Kit’s hands were empty, and there were no tools near him.
He took a deep breath, his fingers spread wide. A soft wind kicked up, tousling my hair.
It happened so fast, I barely saw it happen. Kit pinched the air, pulling it towards him, and Autumn gagged, sticking out her tongue. With his other hand, he made a sharp, slicing motion. I could almost hear the sound of the invisible blade as it cut through Autumn’s tongue with surgical precision. Her eyes widened in horror as blood poured past her lips and down her chin, staining the white dress a bright crimson. She opened her bloody maw to scream, but Kit wasn’t finished.
His shoulders were shaking, and his eyes watered.
I wonder if he actually had feelings for her? Lucian asked.
I ignored him, too stunned to respond. Kit spun, splaying his arms like a praying mantis, with stiff, confident movements. Energy crackled around him. Then his arms shot out in a beam of light. Twin ravens appeared out of nowhere, spiraling around each other, and dove towards Autumn. Her head snapped back as they made contact, their sharp beaks burrowing into her eye sockets. This time, she screamed. The ravens had vanished in a puff of black feathers, leaving black stains that spread across her face like a cancer. It steamed and dripped like melted tar.
***
Autumn had passed out from the pain, and her body hung limply from the chains. The guards unhooked her and carried her back inside, away from the crowd. The king leered at me, and nodded towards the guards. They stepped forward, ripping open the back of my dress. I cradled my breasts with my hands, quivering as I stood exposed before the crowd of mages. The ladies in the audience gasped, but I saw a few gentlemen lean forward and lick their lips. I was just a thief from the scraps. Apparently shame and humiliation were part of the punishment.
“This one cheated her way into the Academy, our most noble institution, and corrupted our youth with her disruptive influences. She hid her scars well, but we will give her new ones she won’t be able to hide so easily.”
A few chuckles spread through the audience. Alexander tensed beside me, then he uncoiled the whip.
“Lean over the box, Wynter,” Alexander commanded.
He pressed lightly on my shoulder. I sank to my knees and bent over the box, my fingers splayed against the cool metal. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. This would all be over soon. I just needed to focus on that.
“Alexander,” the king nodded.
There was a long pause, and I heard Alexander whisper under his breath, “I’m sorry.” I squeezed my eyes closed and braced myself. For an instant, there was nothing. Then, a crack loud enough to split the air. The pain was sudden and intense. It felt like someone had carved a knife across my back. Black spots danced before my vision. It hurt too much to scream. Instead, my breath came out in a short, awkward gasp. My back stung, and I felt blood spill from the wound, hot and burning.
And that was only the first.
Crack! I bit my tongue to keep from crying out. There was another burst of pain, and my thoughts scattered. At first I tried to hide my pain, but after a few more, I gave into it. I was never going to see any of these people ever again. Let them see me cry. Blood ran down my arms as my skin tore apart, so much of it, staining my fingertips.
Lucian snarled in my mind and I felt his energy flow through me.
We can stop this, he said. I’ll wrap that whip around the king’s neck and hang him off the edge of Reverie.
“Don’t,” I gasped. “You’ll get jeweled in a second.”
The whipping stopped and I glanced up to see the king smirking, his hand raised in the air. I’d lost count. Was it five or six?
“You see, even now she whispers to demons to save her.”
The crowd gasped at this and murmured. Was this his plan all along, to get me to reveal myself and my powers? I bit my lip until I tasted blood. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. The king’s hand dropped, and a cooling mist settled over my skin.
I sighed in relief as the pain faded away, replaced by a biting cold. I glanced up behind me and saw Alexander, whispering a spell with glowing blue sigils on his palm. Ice magic. He was freezing me. My back felt cold and brittle, and the blood had stopped flowing, but what followed was infinitely worse. The next crack of the whip tore bright red chunks of flesh from my back, sending them scattering across the polished tiles of the forum. Rather than the bone-deep lash of the whip, now I felt my skin break and crack like an iceberg shifting. I was being carved away like a block of ice.
My body jerked and spasmed, no longer trying to remain calm. My eyes spun feverishly with panic. I had to get away. I rolled off the block, crawling on my hands and knees. Sharp, stabbing pain flooded my body with each movement. Pieces of myself lay strewn around me, melting slowly in the sun.
I screamed as the guards grabbed my arms and lifted me back towards the block.
Lucian’s fire raged within me, but I refused to let it out. Someone grabbed my chin and lifted it gently. I reluctantly opened my eyes and found Alexander’s face close to mine. He was checking the chains again, and pulled my arms out roughly as he pushed me against the block.
Something hard and sleek slid into my palm. I felt sharp prongs dig into my flesh as he folded my bloody fingers around it. Alexander moved behind me and swept my hair over my shoulder. His hand lingered on my neck. “I can’t defy my father,” Alexander whispered. “Not yet. You’ll have to save yourself a little.”
How? That was impossible.
I felt pressure in my palm, and realized he’d given me something. I twisted my wrist as he stepped away, so I could see the object nestled in the palm of my hand. It was Guinevere’s charm.
***
Crack! I tasted blood in my mouth as Alexander resumed my punishment. I gripped Guinevere’s charm so tightly that my hand hurt. Maybe if I held it tightly enough, I could distract from the pain. I wasn’t sure what Alexander expected me to do with it now.
Crack! Tears burned down my cheeks. A wave of nausea tremored through me, and I heaved up the contents of my sour stomach. My body was too weak to do anything at this point other than lay flat against the stone block. I felt alternating flashes of ice cold and feverish heat, and I felt like I was losing consciousness.
Snap! For a second, I wasn’t sure what happened. I’d been expecting the whip to tear away more of my flesh, but instead my wrists were free of their bindings. I felt a cooling breeze across my skin. I flinched as a hand touched my shoulder.
“What happened?” the king asked sharply.
Alexander raised the chains that had bound my hands and held them up, dangling them loosely from one finger. The once-shining metal had rusted entirely through.
The king stormed across the platform and seized the chains from Alexander’s hand.
“How?” he demanded, spitting into my face.
“I—I don’t know,” I rasped.
It’s decay, Wynter. A soft, feminine voice whispered nearby, and I looked up in confusion. It took me a moment to place it as Gareth’s companion, Elaine. But I couldn’t see her. The faces of the audience were a blur, and a soft, pulsating light seemed to wash everything away.
Focus, Elaine whispered again. Decay and healing are the building blocks of magic, and they exist alongside one another, in all things.
Decay and healing. I took a deep breath, letting the oxygen fill my lungs, and let it out slowly. Time seemed to stand still as I willed myself back together, drawing on the throbbing energy I could feel emanating from Gwen’s pendant. The muscles between my shoulder blade and down my back began to tingle. There was an itching and a warmth, as my wounds began to seal themselves.
Very good, Elaine said.
I stood slowly, Guinevere’s charm clasped in my hand, and rotated my arms to check the damage. My once-white dress was soaked through with blood and chunks of skin stuck to my hair, but the pain was gone. Decay spread around me like a plague, cracking the tiles and rotting the wooden box until it collapsed into sawdust. I was almost like I was leeching the energy of my surroundings, and drawing that power into myself.
Wide-eyed, Alexander and his father stepped back as the ring of destruction crept towards them, eating away at everything in its path.
“What are you?” the king asked, his voice quavering.
He unsheathed his sword, but before he could move towards me the edge of his coat burst into flames. He shouted in surprise and scrambled to remove it. Chaos erupted from the audience, as people shouted and shoved past the guards towards the exits.