“Yes, but it’s less likely.” She heaved a sigh. “That’s why I was so dead set on getting the placement now.”
Dead set. An interesting turn of phrase. Could she have been so desperate that she killed Karl Muldoon on academy grounds just to drum up a headline-grabbing story that would catch the attention of the AMF? One human life in exchange for her dream job? She could glamour herself to look like a guy called Christopher. She could extract information from unsuspecting humans to determine how best to appeal to them. The only missing piece was that she hadn’t made any recent trips to Terrene.
Unless she was lying, of course.
At that moment, a black cat streaked across the path.
“Shalimar, what are you doing out here?” Gladiola demanded. She scooped up the cat. “In his office? Okay, thanks for letting me know.” She faced me. “Sorry, but I need to cut this short. Professor Langley wants to have a word about my footnotes for an article he’s having published in Wizarding Monthly.”
“I don’t envy that job,” I said.
She shrugged. “I like Langley. He’s fastidious, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
“We’ll talk later then?” I said. I’d need more time to determine whether Gladiola was a viable suspect.
“Sounds good,” she replied. “You don’t need to worry about me avoiding you, Bryn. I’m always up for a chat. It’s in my nature.”
Great. The only friends I seemed to have left on campus were Ivan and Gladiola, two fourth years I barely knew. Life sure had a way of taking strange turns when I least expected them.
With Gladiola gone, I decided to head back to the bunker. I sighed when my stomach rumbled. I’d have to ask Hazel to have a tray of food delivered, as I was pretty sure a visit to the dining hall was a bad idea.
“Is it true?”
I whipped around to see Gray on the path behind me. His expression was a blank slate, awaiting my response.
“I guess that depends on what you heard,” I said. “Yes, I took down two Egyptian critters that were supposed to be extinct.”
“Egyptian?” he repeated. “Like the Book of Thoth?”
“Probably not a coincidence,” I said. “Anton did tell me the book was cursed.”
“And you took them down with blood magic?” Gray asked, eyeing me closely.
“Apparently.”
His gaze faltered. “Is that why you were so intent on buying his healing stones at the auction?”
“Sort of. It’s also why we had to retrieve the book from Starry Hollow,” I said.
His chin jerked up. “What do you mean? I thought that was because of Armitage.”
I shook my head. “I lied about that. The truth is that I stole one of the healing stones from Anton’s sunroom. The one he didn’t sell in the collection to Martha.”
He could barely bring himself to look at me. “Why would you do that?”
“I can’t explain it. The stone…called to me. I wanted it more than anything.” I hesitated. “Turns out his blood is inside it, so that may have something to do with it.”
Gray nodded. “I can understand the draw to blood.”
I was glad he could, because I still couldn’t.
“I almost told you in Starry Hollow,” I said. “I didn’t want to lie to anyone, but the truth is so dangerous. Not just for me, but anyone around me.”
“I’m more than capable of protecting myself, Morrow,” he said. “Instead, you lied to me.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” I said heatedly.
“Of course you did,” he said, equally hot-tempered. “I thought we had…a more honest relationship than that. The Shadow Sorcerer’s daughter.” He gazed at me in disbelief. “If that doesn’t put a target on your back, nothing will.”
“Which is one of the reasons I wanted to keep it secret,” I said. “I have friends. A familiar I care about. I spent my life in hiding because my mother was convinced he was hunting us.”
“And you couldn’t trust me with that information?” Gray demanded. The hurt in his eyes was unmistakable.
“I’ve spent my entire life not trusting anyone except my mother,” I said. “She and I moved constantly, fearful that he or his minions would find us. She never even told him I existed, but she was sure if he ever discovered me, he’d kill us both. She knew how evil he was.”
Silence filled the space between us. “What else have you lied about?” he asked quietly.
“Nothing,” I said. “I grew up in the human world, like I told you. We moved a lot. My mother died four years ago.”
“Volans Moldark died thirteen years ago,” he said. “Why would you stay in hiding so long?”
“Because we didn’t know!” The tears burst forward with such strength that I had no choice but to let them fall. “My mother was a human. She had no ties to this world. She did her best for us based on the limited information she had. Her goal was to keep me safe, above all else.” I wiped the tears away, leaving damp streaks on my cheeks.
Gray stared at me in silence. “Did you know you could do blood magic?”
“No,” I said. “Not until I used it in the dining hall. Apparently, it absorbs venom and other toxins, too. No one can ever poison me. Not successfully, anyway. Bonus points for me.”
He didn’t smile. “I knew something was off when your blood broke through that ward without a hitch at Thumpkin Enterprises. That wasn’t normal, but I didn’t say anything because…” He stopped talking and shook his head.
“Because why?” I demanded.
“It doesn’t matter now,” he said, and my heart plunged. “I’m glad you’re okay, Bryn. I hope everything works out for you. The gods know we don’t need another Moldark on our hands. One was more than enough.”
With those words, he walked away. I opened my mouth to call to him, but no sound came out. This was it? I’d already lost my family. Now I’d lost my friends and Gray, too—all because of the DNA I shared with a father I never knew.
Give him time, Icarus urged softly. You have to understand how huge this news is for paranormals. Volans Moldark is a household name here for a reason.
I stuffed my hands into my cloak pockets. I know, Icarus, but he isn’t me. I didn’t do any of those awful things.
But it’s the fear that you could.
I have that fear, too! I said. You know that’s why I resist using my magic.
You’re at an academy of magic now, Bryn. This is the place where you should explore and develop your talents.
In theory, I said. Right now, I think everyone would be perfectly happy to see the back end of me. They don’t want my dark magic.
Icarus sighed. Your magic isn’t dark, Bryn. It’s how you use it. Chancellor Tilkin never would have agreed to allow you to train here if she felt you were a genuine threat.
I bet she’s regretting that choice now, I said glumly. She’d taken a chance on me, wrapping me in her falcon-feathered cloak, and I’d failed her.
You’re being too hard on yourself, Icarus said.
Maybe I’m not being hard enough, I countered. Maybe if my father had been harder on himself, he never would’ve been swayed by the dark arts.
You’ve chosen to train here, he said. You’ve chosen friends and a home. You’ve allowed yourself to have feelings for someone…
I halted and glanced skyward. My father chose to let my mother in. How’d that work out?
It didn’t matter how brief their affair had been. There was a moment in my father’s long history when he let his feelings for someone else dictate his behavior. He’d been capable of genuine emotions. Like me.
He was too far gone by then, Icarus argued. His time with your mother was a departure, not the norm. Your behavior, on the other hand, is the norm.
It was difficult to think about my parents together. How my mother must have felt when she’d learned of my father’s true nature. She’d talked to me a little about it, but she’d never disclosed the full story—I imagine because it had been too
painful for her.
Because of him, my mother spent the rest of her life alone, I said bitterly.
That’s where you’re wrong, Bryn, Icarus said quietly. Your mother wasn’t alone. Because of him, she had you.
17
The great hall was as impressive as the name suggested. The room was much larger than the dining hall, with a single oval table in the middle of the room—one of the longest tables Bryn had ever seen. The ceiling was about fifteen feet high, supported by sturdy, dark beams. With its stone walls and candlelight, the room was almost as medieval in appearance as the exterior of Spellslingers. Each chair was so ornate that it resembled a throne. Chancellor Tilkin sat at the curved end of the table, her expression solemn. Her staff leaned against her chair, and I noticed that she had two fingers on the shaft. Was she concerned with keeping order? How heated did she expect this discussion to get?
Hazel guided me to a chair at the table and promptly left. There were two empty chairs on either side of me, so I felt like I was on full display for the fifteen board members. That was probably the point.
“Welcome, Miss Morrow,” the chancellor said. “I believe you know the reason we called you here.”
I was advised by Hazel not to crack any jokes. I needed to show proper deference. “I do.”
“The Board of Regents would like to hear your story,” Chancellor Tilkin said, “including the part that describes how your parents met.”
I recounted my parents’ history in as much detail as I could manage—how they met in an emergency room hospital. I gave them the month and year. How surprised my mother was when my father recovered so quickly from his injuries.
One of the board members held up a hand—a wizard named Benjamin Duffy. “Miss Morrow, may I stop you for a brief moment?” He glanced around at the other board members. “If I recall correctly, these dates coincide with the unexplained disappearance on record.”
Heads bobbed around the table.
“The AMF had received word that he’d been gravely injured in a fight,” another man said. Based on his plain clothing, my money was on druid. “I recall the shock when he returned to fight another day.”
“And many days after that,” the chancellor said. “The AMF reports suggest that the seeds of the coup were planted at that time.”
“And you never met your father?” Duffy asked me. “Never once?”
“No, sir,” I said. “My mother was deathly afraid of him. That’s why she never told him that she was pregnant. She worried about what he might do—to both of us.”
“I know exactly what he would’ve done,” another board member interjected. Lara Greensleeves, a muse. “He would’ve killed you both without batting an eye. There was no limit to his darkness.”
“No,” Duffy objected. “He would have murdered the mother for certain. I’m not convinced that he would have been so hasty with his offspring.”
I felt my temper rising. They were talking about me like I wasn’t even here.
“He might have wanted to pass on his knowledge to his seed,” Duffy continued.
His seed? Which century was this?
“Benjamin, I see no point in speculating about whether Moldark would or would not have killed the child,” Chancellor Tilkin said. “The fact is that she sits before us now, and he no longer walks this earth. It is her future we need concern ourselves with now.”
“Too right,” Cate Briggs said. A fairy with bright pink hair.
“I don’t know that the AMF will want her with her pedigree,” Duffy said. “Perhaps she should be somewhere to be educated that isn’t associated with the agency.”
“She is not her father,” Chancellor Tilkin said sternly. “She should not be held accountable for his crimes.”
“If we were holding her accountable, she’d be in prison,” Duffy grumbled.
The voices of the other board members erupted, prompting the chancellor to thump her staff on the floor in an effort to regain order.
“It is my firm belief that Bryn Morrow would be an asset to the AMF, and an excellent Warden of the West,” the chancellor said. “If, after four years, the agency decides not to appoint her, then she will still have acquired the education and skills necessary to be a productive member of society, and we will have fulfilled our duty.”
“I wholeheartedly agree,” Briggs said. “I would rather know she was being trained here, under the watchful eye of Chancellor Tilkin, than some other school ill-equipped to handle someone of Miss Morrow’s caliber.”
“If she’s going to stay, she needs a mentor,” Greensleeves said.
“She has an entire academy of magical mentors at her disposal, same as all the others,” the chancellor replied coolly. “I hardly think she requires a special assignment.”
“Her magic is too unpredictable,” Duffy argued. “Too volatile. I agree with Lara. It makes sense to assign her a specific party to be responsible for keeping her in line.”
I was itching to advocate for myself. No one needed to keep me in line.
“Need I remind you that Miss Morrow is not a volcano,” Chancellor Tilkin said. “She has demonstrated no issues with her temper since her arrival.”
“That doesn’t mean she won’t,” Duffy said. “After all, she didn’t demonstrate her ability to do blood magic until the incident in the dining hall.”
I noticed the subtle clench of Chancellor Tilkin’s jaw. She was annoyed, but trying not to show it.
Briggs shot a supportive look in the chancellor’s direction. “I agree with Lindsey. Miss Morrow is no different than any other trainee. The only suggestion I’d make is for her to have a tutor assigned to her for basics that she missed while living in Terrene. To my mind, that knowledge gap is more dangerous than the likelihood of following in her father’s footsteps.”
I raised my hand. “Prefect Chambers has already agreed to tutor me. He and I discussed it recently, because I recognize that I’m still ignorant in many basic areas.”
“Prefect Chambers is an excellent choice,” Duffy said. “He’s distinguished himself on multiple occasions and is an exemplary trainee.”
“He has the time as well,” the chancellor said. “I believe he’s engaged in independent study at the moment.”
“That’s settled then,” Greensleeves said.
“With the caveat that, should she stray from the straight and narrow in any form, then she’s immediately assigned a staff mentor.” Duffy folded his arms, as though challenging anyone to disagree.
“I find your terms acceptable,” the chancellor said.
I wasn’t sure how Robin would feel about tutoring me now. It was one thing to offer before he knew the truth about me.
“I would also like to mention right here and now, that any ill treatment of Miss Morrow will not be tolerated,” the chancellor said. “Any member of staff or trainee that decides to use Miss Morrow’s parentage against her will face immediate disciplinary measures.”
“Agreed,” the other fourteen board members murmured in unison.
“Very well then,” the chancellor said. “I shall have Hazel draft the notes and issue edict. This meeting is adjourned.” She thumped her staff on the floor once more. “Welcome to Spellslingers Academy of Magic, Miss Morrow. Again.”
A knock on the bunker door drew me to my feet. “Hazel, I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t need any more biscuits.”
I yanked open the door and was shocked to see Robin standing there. His eyes were lined with dark circles and his chin was stubbled. Even his signature bow tie was absent.
“You look like you’ve been on a three-day bender in Las Vegas,” I said, ushering him inside.
He inspected the small room, his expression almost guilty. “I understand I’ve been officially assigned to tutor you.”
“Everyone agreed it was a good idea,” I said. “They talk about a knowledge gap like it’s a disease.”
“Make no mistake, Bryn. Ignorance can be as deadly as any disease,” Robin replied. He
ruffled his wavy brown hair, struggling with something. Most likely he didn’t know what to say to me about my secret. I figured I’d help him out.
“Are you angry with me?” I asked.
His face was anguished. “Yes. No.” He groaned. “Why didn’t you tell me? You know about Magic Robbie. You even blackmailed me with that information.”
Not one of my prouder moments. When I first came to the academy, I recognized Robin as the boy magician from a show I used to watch in the human world—Talented Kids of America. I secured his help in clearing my name of a crime by threatening to expose his childhood identity. Robin was the reason I got hooked up with Gray in the first place.
“Being Magic Robbie isn’t dangerous,” I said. “Being the daughter of one of the worst sorcerers in history is.”
Robin leaned his head against the wall. I’d never seen him in such a state. “I wish you would’ve trusted me.”
“Why does everyone say that?” I asked. “Does no one remember how I got here? I’ve been alone for four years, except for Icarus. Before that, my mother and I were constantly on the move, never putting down roots. We never confided in anyone. I was homeschooled. I never had friends my own age. I talked to neighbors and random people in the park. Always small talk, never too personal. That’s been my life, Robin. I don’t know how to trust.”
He didn’t meet my gaze. Instead, he focused on an imaginary blemish on the wall. “I don’t have a lot of friends, Bryn. I have fellow trainees, or classmates, but I don’t know that many of them would call me a friend.”
“Why not?” Although he was uptight and occasionally pompous, he seemed perfectly likable.
“I’ve told you about my parents and their divorce, how devastated I was afterward.”
“You did.” That was how I’d recognized him—a photograph of young Robbie with both parents. One of his last moments of happiness.
He turned to face me. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I have trust issues, too. They’re different from yours, of course, but the result is the same. Don’t get too close. Don’t get attached.”
Outclassed: Spellslingers Academy of Magic (Warden of the West Book 2) Page 15