by Izzy Shows
The Chancellor stood and walked around the desk, approaching me. I tensed. I hadn’t thought it would be the Chancellor who was going to read me, but perhaps I should have expected that. He couldn’t leave anything up to chance, and he more than any of the others seemed to want to be rid of me.
“Breathe.”
“Thank you.”
I took a deep breath as instructed and let it out a little unsteadily. If the Chancellor found even one thing that he didn’t like about me, then I’d be as good as dead. There would be no getting around it at all. He was the one who held my life in his hands.
Would he lie? Would he tell the High Council that I was dark and marred and would turn Warlock as soon as power was offered to me? My gut clenched, but I remembered Weylyn’s words. He’d said that I would make it out of this, and I had to believe him. He didn’t have the ability to see into the future, as far as I knew—I didn’t know a lot about him just yet, but I intended to fix that as soon as we got back to my house.
I hoped he and Fred were going to get along, but I didn’t know what was going to happen there. Fred was so used to having the run of the house all to himself. What if he hated Weylyn?
I cleared those thoughts from my mind. There would be time enough to worry about that later, as soon as I got through this trial. Right now, I needed to keep myself as calm as possible, lest my fear be interpreted as fear of being discovered by the Chancellor.
“Lower your shields,” the Chancellor said when he was standing in front of me.
“No,” I said before I could stop myself. I took a step back reflexively.
I heard metal ringing, and I looked around to see that the First Hand had all come into the room at some point, and now they were standing with their obsidian blades drawn.
The message was clear.
Failure to comply will be considered an admission of guilt and is punishable by death.
If I didn’t do this, I was as good as telling them that I was a Warlock, and they would kill me. There was no other option but to go through with the reading. My nostrils flared, my temper kicked in, and I wanted to rebel.
Weylyn pressed his weight against my side. I let out my breath and dropped my shields one by one.
The Chancellor reached out and pressed three fingers against my forehead. My breathing escalated, though I did what I could to steady it. I didn’t want him to think I was anxious because I was guilty. I doubted he would dismiss my anxiety as being a normal thing for someone who had been accused of being a Warlock not too long ago.
This was the worst that things were going to get it, wasn’t it? This was the hardest trial I was going to have to get through—proving that I wasn’t corrupted.
I swallowed, thinking about that. If that was the case, though, wouldn’t this be the final trial? Something worse had to be coming.
No, don’t think about that. Focus on what’s going on in the here and now.
“Fateo mysteria,” the Chancellor said, then took several steps back. He kept his hand up, and I watched as a stream of silver flowed between the two of us, connecting his fingers to my forehead. I couldn’t decide if I was fascinated or disgusted.
He brought his other hand up to clasp both together, and then brought his arms down in an arc to either side of him. The silver spread in the air above him, no longer connected to me, and for a moment it just hung there, shimmering.
I didn’t understand what was happening.
The silver twisted and turned until it resembled my silhouette. This little version of me hovered in the air, her feet firmly planted though there was nothing for her to stand on, and her hands were balled into fists on her hips. She was defiant.
A small smile curved my lips as I looked at her. I didn’t understand what the trick was, but it was amusing to see myself like that.
And then a shadow wrenched a piece of the little silhouette away, and another came, and another. I watched as holes were poked through her, as she collapsed to her knees and held on to the little silver pieces of herself and tried to stay in one piece. She looked like she’d run through a cheese cutter, there were so many holes in her, and then a horrible shrieking sound began.
I took a step back, reaching out a hand to touch Weylyn. I looked over at him and saw that his lips were curled back in a snarl to reveal his fangs. I patted his fur.
“Steady, boy. I don’t know what this is, but we can’t let it get to us.”
“It’s you, Blair. They’re showing you yourself.”
I balked. “I don’t understand how that could be me.”
The little figure stumbled to her feet and began to run. The shadowy figures chased her around the room, and little pieces of her seemed to slip out of the hands she kept clutched to her gut. She kept losing more and more of herself as she ran, and the figures never stopped chasing her.
Was this a metaphor for my life?
This was humiliating in a way I hadn’t expected.
Finally, the figure stopped running and turned around on her heel. She had no features, she was just a silhouette, but I could see her panting, could feel the tears burning in her eyes. I could feel the pain in her throat—or were those tears burning inside of me?
I wanted to run to her and put my arms around her, usher her back inside of me, hide her from this ongoing hunt. I didn’t want everyone looking at her like this. It was as if she was a piece of me and yet wasn’t at the same time. I wanted to protect her in ways that I wouldn’t have wanted for myself. I wanted to hide her from the shadows hunting her and allow her to find all of her pieces and put herself back together.
I’ll never be whole again.
The realization slammed into me like a punch to the gut. This was what the figure was telling me—all the pieces I had lost over time, the parts that had been stolen by foster parents or lost to monsters while I was fighting for London, were all gone forever. There was no finding those parts again. There was never going to be a day when I stood as one complete human being.
I would always be broken.
I lifted my chin in defiance, and for a moment it was as if the figure and I were staring each other down.
I don’t need to be whole. I didn’t know if I was telling myself that, or the figure. Being whole is overrated. I’m so much more than whole.
“As you can see—” The Chancellor started to speak, but paused when the shadows materialised in front of the me-figure again. He wanted to see what she would do, and so did I.
She planted one foot behind her, bent her other knee, and brought up both hands in front of her. Silver power rushed out of her hands, not pieces of her, but things she was creating, and they devoured the shadows one at a time. As soon as the shadows had been well and truly eradicated, she stood up in all of her hole-y glory. She curtsied to the room, then dissipated into the thin strips of silver, which returned to me without any hesitation.
The Chancellor regarded me with hard eyes. “She is broken,” he said.
I flinched. How dare he? I took a step forward, about to give him the dressing-down of his life.
“But she’s clean,” Diego said, his voice hard. “There was nothing for us to be concerned about in that way.”
I turned to look at him, a little surprised to hear him defending me. I didn’t need him to defend me; I could do that all on my own, thank you very much. But I didn’t open my mouth to say any of that. I decided to keep quiet and see how this was going to play out.
The Chancellor was staring at me, no emotion on his face, and I fought the urge to squirm under his gaze.
“You are correct, Diego. She is clean, even if she is perhaps too broken to train,” he said, his words nonchalant but damning. He was trying to get rid of me even though I had passed the reading.
“Oh, hell, no,” I said, and took two steps forward before I felt a tug at the waist of my trousers. I turned around to see Weylyn holding me back, his teeth sunk into my jeans. “Are you bloody joking?” I twisted back to face the Chancellor. “I’
ve passed every single one of your little trials so far. You can’t possibly say that I’m too broken to train. I’ve been training without you for two years!”
“The Proving is not over, Chancellor,” Diego said. “She must be allowed to finish it.”
The Chancellor and Diego locked eyes, a battle of the wills taking place. I watched, fascinated. It was as if they were arguing with only their eyes, and I really couldn’t tell who was going to come out the victor.
Without breaking eye contact with Diego, the Chancellor spoke. “You are dismissed, Ms. Sheach. Go home and prepare yourself. The final two trials will take place tomorrow, and you will need your strength.”
I inhaled deeply, a rush of relief crashing through me.
They were going to let me continue.
“Weylyn?” I turned to look at my giant puppy with an eyebrow raised. He yipped and turned in a circle, vanished and left a large husky in his place. I patted between his ears. “Good boy.”
Gregor came forward, and I walked out with my staff in one hand and Weylyn at my side.
I really hadn’t thought I’d find myself happy to have participated in the trials. But how could I not be, with Weylyn at my side?
Everything felt so right.
Forty Two
The car lurched to a halt. Weylyn, whose head was in my lap, growled at the movement.
“You can take the blindfold off now,” Gregor said.
I did so and threw it onto the seat beside me. I looked out the window at my house and felt a small thrill of excitement at the same time that a nostalgic sadness swept through me. There was no way of knowing what tomorrow’s trials would bring, but the Chancellor hadn’t made them sound particularly nice. I pushed open the car door, grabbed my staff, and got out. Weylyn clambered out behind me, and I shut the door after him, waving a hand at Gregor to let him know he was good to go.
An odd anxiety had me in knots. I shouldn’t be feeling so anxious now that the worst was behind me, but my gut was telling me there was more ahead of me to be worried about, and I had long since learned that I should listen to my gut.
“Ready to see your new home?” I said, looking down at Weylyn.
He barked, a sound of agreement, and we walked to the house. I waved a hand over the door and entered. Weylyn charged in ahead of me, his nose to the floor as he began sniffing every square inch of the house. The couch, the table, the chairs, the floor, the walls, the bookcase—you name it, he was sniffing it. I lifted an eyebrow but kept my mouth shut and closed the door behind me. I leaned my staff against the wall by the door and took off my jacket.
“I hate to say it, but you’re probably going to need to keep up your little husky ruse for now. I don’t think you could fit in this house otherwise.”
“I’m not that big,” he said, throwing a dirty look at me.
I snorted. “Your head clears my shoulders. You’re plenty big, bucko. But don’t worry—I happen to like that. Apparently, it means both of us are pretty damn special.”
He made a derisive sound and went back to sniffing.
“Miss Sheach? Is you homes?” Fred’s voice came from the basement.
My back stiffened, and a new anxiety swirled in my stomach. I really wanted Fred and Weylyn to get along.
“Yeah, I’m home, and I brought a new friend with me,” I said.
“Oh noooooooooooo.” There was despair in his voice. I glanced at Weylyn, but he only looked amused. “You didn’t!”
“What’s wrong? Get up here!” I was tired of raising my voice to be heard in the basement. I wanted Fred to get up here and meet Weylyn.
I saw his large red head coming up the stairs a moment later, and then he was in the hallway looking at Weylyn with absolute disgust.
“You has brought one of thems into this house again?”
“Uh… Well, I’ve never had a familiar before, so, no, I don’t think this is an ‘again’ type of situation.”
“Master had one of those,” he said, glaring at Weylyn. He hadn’t looked at me even once.
Of course. It made sense that Aidan would have had a familiar if it was a part of the trials to call one forth. Diego had to have one too. In fact, all of the Wizards had to have one. But why had I never found out about Aidan’s?
“What happened to Aidan’s familiar, Fred?”
I walked over to the couch and sat down. Weylyn jumped up onto the couch, turned in a circle, and lay down with his head in my lap. I petted him absentmindedly. Everything felt so right with him here. I could almost forget about the anxiety that wouldn’t let go of my gut.
“It died,” he said, shrugging his little shoulders as he walked farther into the room.
“What do you mean, it died?” I couldn’t imagine losing Weylyn, and my hand tightened in his fur so much that he let out a plaintive whine.
“I’m not going to die, Blair. Do calm down.”
“I can’t lose you.”
This wolf had been in my life for less than twenty-four hours, and already I felt so attached to him that losing him would be devastating. I couldn’t imagine having been bonded to him at fifteen and spending years with him and then losing him. How long had Aidan been with his familiar before he lost it?
I shuddered. A part of me had hoped that the familiars were immortal, that they couldn’t be killed because they weren’t from this world.
“Is you rememberings that Master was cursed?” Fred took a seat in one of the chairs, still glaring at Weylyn. Weylyn was in Fred’s normal spot, and I was sure that contributed to some of the animosity. Still, I didn’t tell him to get down. I wanted him beside me. I felt so much better when we were in contact with one another.
“Yeah,” I said. “I remember. That’s why he needed my help.”
“Master was cursed on a hunt, and it was this same hunt where Master’s familiar was killed. Master was sad, sad, sad,” Fred said, though he certainly didn’t look the least bit upset about it.
“Why don’t you like familiars?”
Fred looked away from me for a moment, kicking his feet, which were hanging over the side of the chair, back and forth. “I is not knowings what you is talkings about.”
I huffed out a sigh. “Come on, Fred. Don’t play dumb with me. We both know you don’t like Weylyn, and you don’t seem to care that Aidan lost his familiar, which I’m sure was a horrible thing for a person to have to go through alone. Why don’t you like familiars? What is it about them that bugs you?”
“Is nothings botherings me.”
“Fred.”
“Hmph!”
I glared at him, boring little holes into the side of his head. “Come on, Fred. You can tell me.”
“They is dirty and rude and is getting their hairs all over the place and is never learnings the proper respects. And they is eating Fred’s foods and chewing on his books and getting in his way, and distracting Master when Fred is needings to talk to Master. And they is just a horrid, horrid lot, lady. Please sends yours away.”
I arched an eyebrow. It sounded like Aidan hadn’t encouraged his familiar to be nice to Fred, which wasn’t entirely surprising to me. Aidan had apparently been all right with Fred calling him Master, but I had done everything I could to get Fred to not call me Mistress. I was still trying to break him from calling me ‘Miss Blair,’ but it seemed he was dead set against calling me ‘Blair.’ I could settle for ‘Miss Blair.’
“All right, well, we’re going to set some ground rules,” I said. “The two of you are going to play nice together. Weylyn is not going to steal any food from you or chew on your books, and both of you will try to stay out of each other’s way. I think Weylyn is more than intelligent enough to show you the respect you show him, right?” I looked at Weylyn with an eyebrow raised.
“I always show the respect I am given,” he said. “The imp is not fond of me, and I will try to repair the precedent set by the prior familiar of this household.”
“Thank you,” I said aloud. “Weylyn says he’s goin
g to do everything he can to foster a good relationship between you two. I expect you to make an effort, too, Fred. It’s not all on Weylyn. If you’re a jerk, I can’t very well expect him to take it lying down.”
Fred grumbled to himself for a moment. “I is not a jerk,” he said at last, sounding quite petulant.
“No, you’re not,” I said. My voice was firm. “Which is why I’ll be very surprised if you treat Weylyn poorly.”
Weylyn lifted his big doggy head and looked straight at Fred. They were both very quiet for a moment, their eyes locked together, before Weylyn laid his head down on my lap again.
“Mayhaps he is not such a bad one,” Fred said grudgingly.
I brightened at that. “Good. Now that that’s out of the way, I’m going to call my friends over. I’m giving you a heads-up, in case you want to hide out in the basement.”
“Alls of the friends?” Fred wrinkled his nose. “Yes, I is thinkings to go in the basement.”
He stood up and grabbed a few books off the bookshelf before scurrying down the stairs. I picked my phone up off the coffee table and called each of my friends: Shawn, Finn, and Emily.
I didn’t know what the future would bring, but I didn’t want to go out without seeing them one last time.
Weylyn and I snuggled on the couch for a bit, getting used to one another’s company, until the trio showed up. I let them into the house, and once everyone had a drink, I sat down again.
“What’s the big occasion?” Finn asked as he took a sip of the rum and coke I’d made for him.
I threw a question back at him rather than answering his. “A girl can’t want to see her friends for one normal night every now and again?”
He shrugged. “You make a good point. When was the last time we were all together that didn’t include some big apocalyptic threat?”
I grinned. “Exactly.”
“Am I the only one who wants to address the elephant in the room?” Shawn spoke from the chair he was sitting in, close to the couch. His eyes were fixed on Weylyn. “I didn’t realise you were adopting a dog.”