by Narro, B. T.
Cleve had expected to be the last one moving in, so he was surprised to find not one but two empty rooms to choose from. He put down his bag in the room closest to the front door and left to retrieve the rest of his belongings. When he arrived back at Terren’s, he took more time preparing for his second trip, making sure he had all the clothes, toiletries, utensils, and books he would need. He wasn’t surprised to find this bag was lighter than the first. My weapons outweigh all my other belongings combined, he realized.
Not more than an hour could have passed from the time of his first visit to his second, yet a King’s guardsman was standing outside the student house.
“What’s going on here?” Cleve asked.
“Back yourself two steps,” the guard said. He blocked the doorway and pointed a sword toward Cleve’s stomach. “The house is being searched for a bow.”
Cleve was bewildered. I just brought it here. How could they have known? He looked inside and found another guard searching the kitchen. There isn’t much to search. They must’ve just gotten here if they haven’t found it yet. He had no doubt they would find it if he let them continue. He had to do something.
“You have no reason to search this place. Let me inside.”
“Step back.” The guard looked sternly into Cleve’s eyes. He’s looking for a sign of what I’m going to do, Cleve realized. Terren had taught him the same skill. Cleve looked back into the guard’s eyes and found apprehension, just what he wanted to see. Once he believes killing me is the only way to stop me, he’ll let me by. Disobeying the King’s guards might give him some time in the dungeons, but it still was better than being caught with a bow.
Cleve readied his quarterstaff. “I’m going to walk inside. Let me through.”
“I will cut you if you come closer.”
Cleve took a confident step forward, the guard responding by thrusting his sword at Cleve’s chest. Cleve turned sideways and pushed the pointed end away from him with his quarterstaff. The sword slipped in between two buttons on Cleve’s shirt, ripping its way out.
They took a step away from each other to assess the damage. A third of Cleve’s shirt hung awkwardly, attached by a thread.
“You think the King would appreciate if you killed a student during this ridiculous search for a bow?”
The guard held his sword ready in silence.
“Are you Cleve?” a girl asked from behind, interrupting his plan.
Cleve swung around. At the sight of her, his anger and fear turned into a moment of lust. She had light hair, just between brown and blonde. It had an almost unnatural shine to it, giving it a glimmer as it hung down wavy and thick, falling a little past her shoulders. Her skin was creamy and soft. Her eyes were brilliantly green and pinched at the sides. Her mouth was slightly pressed, giving it a dangerously clever look. She seemed tall for a woman and with full breasts that pushed out her red dress on either side of the buttons that ran down its center.
“I’m Reela Worender,” she told him. “Steffen told me about you.” Her eyes switched to the guard, bright with curiosity. “What’s happening here?”
Cleve’s breath was taken from him. For a moment, the guard, the search for his bow, his impending arrest, his ripped shirt, everything was forgotten. Then suddenly Cleve remembered that she was a psychic. Is my reaction because of some psychic spell? He’d seen beauty before, and this was far more than that. The way she’d stopped his heart upon first glance was unnatural, crippling. It had to be psyche.
“We’re conducting a search for a bow,” the guard responded.
“A bow? Now that seems a bit absurd, doesn’t it?” Reela replied, offended. “Let me inside and we’ll get this all sorted.” Reela patted the guard on the shoulder, and he stepped aside.
Soon Cleve could hear Reela’s conversation with the other guard inside. “Think about how strange it would be for us to keep a bow here. Look at me. Does it look like I know how to use a bow?”
“No,” the guard replied.
“Haven’t you searched this place well enough to determine there’s no bow here? In fact, it seems to me like a waste of your time to stay here any longer.”
“You don’t need to tell me that,” the guard replied. “I was just leaving.”
The guard exited the house and eyed the other one. “Nothing there,” he said.
They left without another word.
Terren lied to me, Cleve thought after witnessing the psychic in action. There are other psychics like the Elf. He stood outside for a moment, contemplating returning to his uncle’s. But he ran through the conversation that would take place and realized he would be forced out before the night was over.
Before Cleve could come up with something else, Reela approached him with a strangely calm smile. “Did you bring a bow here?” Her tone was hinting, as if she already knew but still would be surprised to hear him admit it.
Cleve took the opportunity to see what else she could do. “No, I don’t own a bow.”
Her face scrunched with intrigue. “I know you’re lying,” she said slowly, studying his eyes.
“I wanted to see if you would use it on me as well.” Cleve jabbed a finger at her face. “Don’t ever use psyche on me. If this is going to work, you’ll stay out of my head. Got it?”
Reela nodded. “I got it,” she said indifferently. Her smile reformed and it stole his breath again. “But I didn’t use psyche on you. You’re just not a very good liar.”
Cleve was puzzled by the lack of anger in her reply. She seemed…entertained, even? “Oh,” he replied apologetically. He’d expected quite the argument between them.
Reela shrugged. “Are you going to tell me why you have a bow, or would you rather I guess?”
Cleve took a breath, or maybe just tried to recover the one that had slipped from his lungs after she’d curled her lips at him. “The bow is more important to me than I can describe. I would rather risk the rest of my life in the dungeons than get rid of it.”
“Be aware that the dungeons are almost where you ended up. Luckily, they didn’t have more reason to believe there was actually a bow here. I could only persuade them to leave because I’m sure neither was expecting to find one. It’s been years since anyone has seen one, so why would there be one here? I just helped them come to that realization sooner.”
“So you didn’t control their thoughts?”
“No.”
“Could you read their thoughts, though?”
She giggled, shaking her head.
I guess that means no. Only then did Cleve notice himself gawking. He relaxed his face. “What psyche can you use on me, then?” Cleve suddenly realized he was being blunt. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
She looked him up and down, her radiant green eyes stopping for a heartbeat at the flesh under his torn shirt, then rising again and locking back onto his face.
“You’re different than most warriors.” She tilted her head as if seeing something in his eyes. “Very different,” she said softly.
He felt a chill start down his back. It scared him, but he didn’t know why.
“I’ll tell you,” Reela continued. “But I trust you not to share this with others. You wouldn’t imagine how scared some people can become when they hear about psyche.” She produced a wicked smile that made his heart race. “I really can’t do that much to the mind of any intelligent or strong-willed being. I can sense some ideas and heavy emotions when they’re overwhelming the person’s mind, like fear.” Reela titled her head to the other side. “But I’m only able to alter a person’s mood or thoughts if what I’m trying to alter is rational to them.”
“What about memories?” Cleve asked. It was the only question he really cared about at the time.
Reela’s smile became wry as she shook her head. “I don’t have access to your mind.”
It might have been stupid to assume my memories were at risk, Cleve thought. He felt a calm crawling over him until another thought brought back the feeling of dange
r. Or is that just what she wants me to think? Could she be using psyche right now to make me more at ease?
“I understand the bow is important to you,” Reela said. “You don’t need to explain, but you have to realize I’m now at risk by it being here. The other roommates can pretend they didn’t know, but I’m a psychic who convinced guards to stop searching. If the King’s men figure that out, it can’t be good for me.”
“It won’t be a problem. I’m not sure what the process is for switching houses, but if you or the other roommates want me gone, I would go through whatever steps are necessary to live somewhere else.” I never wanted to live here anyway.
Reela shook her head urgently. “That’s not necessary. You seem conscientious for a warrior.” Her eyes wandered down to his exposed stomach again. “And you’re ready to stand up for what you believe in, which may include us one day. I like that, but we’re going to have to figure out something with the bow.”
“I was going to create a storage space beneath the floorboards in my room, completely concealed. I just need to retrieve some tools from Terren’s.” It was Cleve’s plan all along. He was going to keep the bow in his bag, learn his roommates’ schedules, and dig up the floor when they weren’t around, but there was no need to keep it from them now.
“Steffen told me the headmaster was your uncle,” she said curiously. “You were living with him, and he knew about the bow?”
Can I trust her? Better yet, can I even lie to her? “Yes. My father, Dex Polken, was Terren’s brother. Terren knows how important this bow was to my father and is to me, so he never made me get rid of it.”
“Dex Polken? I’ve heard of him. He was your father?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting. I never knew he was brothers with the headmaster of the Academy. I’m sorry for your loss. He was a great bowman.”
Cleve felt raw emotions beginning to surface and his barriers breaking down. “One more rule,” he said sternly. “Don’t talk to me about my father, and don’t let me hear you talk to anyone else about him.”
Reela nodded with apparent understanding. But her eyes didn’t register the subordination he’d expected to see after delivering his warning. Instead, they looked as if they held pity, the last thing he wanted. Fearful his emotions would escalate, he told Reela he would be back later with the tools to install the storage space and quickly left.
Chapter 7: Guess
CLEVE
While everyone else spent the day unpacking, Cleve worked tirelessly on a new hidden home for his bow under the floorboards beneath his bed. Ripping up the wooden floor was a loud task, but he took pains to keep as quiet as possible so as not to arouse suspicion from nearby houses. When the dusty air and his aching back eventually made the idea of a break sound too good to pass up, he found himself stepping out of his room but unsure of where to go.
Unwilling to attempt a conversation with his roommates, he stood at his doorway and peered down the short hall, wondering if he’d ever think of this place as home. He listened to the bumping and shifting of his roommates arranging their belongings. It was pleasant noise, for it meant they were occupied. It was in the brief moments of silence when he became skittish, for only once the busy sounds stopped was there a chance of someone walking into the hall. He learned that these were the moments when conversations were more likely to occur—when someone had finished putting something away and wanted to chat as a reward.
It was during one of these silences when Steffen popped out to tell Cleve that he and Reela would tour the campus sometime after Effie and her sister showed up, and that Cleve should come with them. But he declined. It wasn’t like him to start something without finishing it. He’d almost lost the bow once when the guards had come to investigate. He wasn’t about to let that happen again.
When Gabby first arrived with Effie, she followed her older sister past Cleve’s room and into the last empty bedroom, dropped Effie’s bags, and looked for Steffen. She gasped when she found him sitting on his bed reading.
“Your room is incredible!” Gabby exclaimed in what sounded to be genuine excitement to Cleve, who couldn’t help but listen and watch from his room across the hall.
“It’s the same as my room,” Effie called to her, “which you said you would help me set up.”
Gabby ignored her. She gasped again and took a vial from a nearby shelf. “Another new potion! It’s so pretty.”
Cleve thought Gabby looked older than she sounded. In fact, if Effie hadn’t said something about her room, Cleve might have figured Gabby was the one moving in.
“Careful with that one.” Steffen spoke with grave concern as he reached for it.
Gabby faced him and hid the vial behind her back. “Did you finally create something useful?” she teased. “Wait, is this the fire potion we’ve been talking about?”
“Yes, and the ingredients are difficult to come by.” Steffen reached for it again, and she backed away, giggling.
“You did it? Impressive. You’ve always had such a thirst for destruction.” Her voice had a playful cadence. “Can I try it?”
“There’s wood all around us,” Steffen said.
“That didn’t stop you,” Reela exclaimed from her room.
Gabby squeaked, letting her mouth drop. “You tried it here?”
“Outside I did, but I shouldn’t have,” Steffen muttered.
“Let’s go.” She took his hand and dragged him toward the door.
Effie yelled from her room, “Gabby, stop flirting with Steffen and help me unpack.”
“I’m not!” Gabby yelled back. “I’m just excited about a new potion. You wouldn’t understand because you’re not a chemist.” Gabby released her grip on Steffen’s hand and gave him back the vial. “We’ll do it later,” she said with gloom, stiffly walking into Effie’s room and shutting the door hard behind her. Cleve could hear them arguing as he continued prying at the floorboards.
Reela checked on Cleve a few times throughout the day. She asked questions about his progress but tended to hover in silence after her queries were answered. It made him feel as if she was waiting for him to speak or possibly ask her something in return, but he was more comfortable with silence than with trying to keep the conversation going. Though even with his project keeping his eyes busy, Cleve had trouble stopping himself from glancing at Reela. His gaze seemed to stick to her each time he looked, needing to be ripped away with great effort.
Reela eventually brought in Effie and Gabby to introduce them. After brief handshakes, they were out of his room as quickly as they’d entered, but not before Gabby could say, “He’s huge” with a tone like he was some animal. Cleve felt better when he heard Effie smack her sister after they left his room.
Steffen had stepped in on his own accord earlier in the day. “I’m sorry about what happened in the woods,” he led with, reaching out his hand. “Very glad you’re here.”
Cleve gave the chemist’s hand a firm shake, possibly a bit harder than he’d meant. I may be a little angry still, he realized. “How is Fred?” Cleve asked with as much feigned interest as he could muster.
“He’s dead. Reela put him out of his misery.”
“Dead?” Cleve felt his grip tightening. “After what you made me do to save him?”
Steffen yelped softly. “You’re strong! Reela helped me see that he was more of an, um, abomination than a successful experiment.” He whimpered softly. “I’d like my hand back?”
“So that other rat in your room?” Cleve released the chemist’s hand.
“Leonard. Test subject number two. I’m using a modified formula that should produce the results I want—size and strength without incessant aggression.” Steffen gave Cleve a lingering look, as if he might be talking about more than just the rat.
“Hope so,” Cleve said, deciding to ignore the insinuation and get back to work. If he wants me to be nicer, that better have been the last time he makes me risk my life for a rat.
“Want to know
what the formula is?” Steffen asked, nearly bursting with excitement.
Cleve didn’t respond, hoping that would be a clear enough sign of his answer.
“There are three ingredients, but one is quite interesting—hair. Human hair! My own Human hair!”
“As opposed to your non-Human hair?” Cleve muttered, hoping it might stop the conversation even for just a moment so he could focus on his floorboards.
Steffen didn’t seem to hear. “I’ve never known a potion that required Human hair. This creates so many fascinating variables to work with because hair itself is different depending on whose body it grows and even where on that body it grows. I tried a hair from my head first, but guess where the hair is coming from in this new version?”
“That’s disgusting,” Cleve replied honestly.
“No, not there,” Steffen guffawed, “I’m talking about my arm.” He displayed his forearm for Cleve.
Cleve politely looked while letting his disinterest show. There was a patch of hair missing.
Steffen was smiling. “It started to fall out after I poured my fire potion on it.”
Chapter 8: Rules
CLEVE
Throughout the day, Cleve’s thoughts danced around Reela. Effie was eye-catching, but there was something about Reela that was different from other women who drew his gaze. It felt as if she knew things about him that he didn’t know himself and his heart ached to know what they were.
She’s dangerous. I can’t tell if any emotions I have for her are genuine. It’s good to keep my distance.
After his roommates left to explore the campus, he had an urge to look through their rooms. He knew he shouldn’t, but he also knew it was a good way to find out more about the people he might be stuck with for a year.
When his project was completed and the bow tucked away, the urge became more difficult to resist. He began unpacking the rest of his clothes and weapons. Finishing that rather quickly, he brought his mug, bowl, and other kitchenware into the shared eating space in the front of the house. He was officially done unpacking. He couldn’t fathom how it took others so long. All that was left was his workout routine and weapons training, but he decided to take a rare day off.