by Olivia Ash
Within moments, the lock is undone. He pushes on the door and allows me to step through first. Once he is in with me, the door closes and locks automatically. I use my magic to form a soft light and shine it on the door. Apparently, it’s a one-way lock, and a long handle makes it easier to open from this side.
Well, at least we won’t have an issue getting out. But the question is, where do we go from here. All this tiny room seems to be is just that. And empty. Nothing to show for in terms of where the professor had gone through.
As if taking my thoughts into consideration, Jesse starts pushing on walls. Nothing gives until he tries the one to the right of the door. It’s a stairway that leads downward, lights shine from torches every few feet or so, making my magic useless and the opportunity for getting caught that much greater.
But I have come too far now to stop.
“Smart,” I say. I’m truly impressed with how useful Jesse has been for this mission of mine, and I’m grateful he practically strong-armed me into bringing him.
“I aim to please.” He holds the door open for me.
I slowly take the steps, testing them for squeaking before applying my entire weight on them.
The steps curve downward to a short corridor underneath the castle. No more than one-hundred feet in front of us is a room. There are no torches to light the way, so there is no telling if there are any traps to speak of. I don’t dare use magic to light the way because I don’t want to give away our position.
However, echoing toward me is the professor’s voice snapping. Someone replies, but their voice is too hushed, almost too weak sounding, to travel far or make out what is being said. Jesse and I exchange glances and carefully move our way to the end, staying in the shadows.
The room is like a wine cellar. It’s small, rectangular, with short archways opening up into smaller rooms where wine must have been stored at one point in time. Now, all the nifty little holes are either filled with candles, books and papers, or left empty. In the center of the room stands a large mirror with intricate designs in the frame bordering the glass.
And in the center stands…
Wait…
I rub my eyes and struggle to focus them.
My father, looking the worse for wear, paces in and out of view of the mirror talking to the professor.
“So,” Professor Lawrence says, “what you’re telling me is, you’ve failed. Not only has there been no progress, but you have stopped looking?”
My father appears in the reflection and lifts his hands, begging the professor to listen. “No. No. That’s not what I’m saying. I have been looking, I just keep coming up with the same answer.”
“That’s not good enough!” the professor roars, slamming his hands on a table near him. He faces my father again. “I want the last piece found. You know what’s at stake. I don’t want to hurt that precious daughter of yours just to prove a point and keep your motivations going.”
I gasp. It was quiet, thankfully, but uncontrolled. However, now I know more than ever there is more to this man. My instincts tell me to keep a safe distance, but Professor Lawrence was responsible for me coming here in the first place. I sort of owe him a little for this. But not enough to disregard my father somehow being held hostage. I need to take each step carefully from here on.
I share a look with Jesse, whose eyebrows are knitted together. He frowns, and I can see the questioning in his eyes.
I lean in closer and whisper in his ear, “That’s my father, Michael Blackwood.”
He moves, I quickly grab ahold of his arm. “Don’t. It will only make things worse.”
I pull away, and the look in Jesse’s eyes tells me he is now out for blood. I’m flattered, but that’s not necessary. I’ll deal with the professor when the time comes. What I don’t understand is why he is willing to draw blood for me.
My father’s hair is disheveled and now all over grey when it used to be brown. He stares at the professor with dark circles under his eyes and says, “Don’t harm a hair on her head. I swear—”
“You swear what?” Deacon asks, sounding amused. “She’s completely out of your reach. It was difficult narrowing down her location, but I managed. Now, if you ever need proof of the seriousness of the matter, all I have to do is show you. She will trust me completely soon. Mark my words.”
No, I won’t. I never trusted him. Trust has to be earned, and all he’s done is make me feel indebted to him for his invitation to the school. A feeling which is quickly falling further to the back of my mind.
Because if it’s one thing I know now, it’s that I was brought here as bait. A means to keep my father in line.
“The Order isn't going to be happy with you when they find out you're keeping me locked here,” my father growls.
“You don’t know half of what the Order does. Find the meteorite.” The professor’s voice left no room for question. The demand came across loud and clear. Find the meteorite, or I will be hurt.
Something about all of this tugs at the back of my mind, calling to me to bring it forward.
And I’m flung into a memory.
I’m a little girl, about five years old, playing in the field behind my house, dancing with fireflies. Something bright, like a star, catches my attention as it falls from the sky. It shatters into pieces, exploding in the air, and a piece of it lands in the field.
Me, being the curious girl that I was—always searching for answers, always seeking new discoveries—I went in search of the piece.
I find it, burning bright, glowing like an ember. The ground around it isn’t hot, the light itself doesn’t even burn. To test it, I touch a tip of my shoe on it and poke at it with my finger. It’s as cool as the night itself.
But when I touch the thing with my hand, it explodes into a bright flash.
The next thing I remember is waking up in my room the next day.
My father started to act weird after that. He never seemed scared of anything until then, and I couldn’t figure out why. He always taught me lessons on magic when he got the time, but from that moment on, it was more intense and much more often. It had become a second job for us both. Devoting every waking, free hour to my magical studies.
Seven years later, my mother died. And a couple weeks after that, my father disappeared. That’s when Aunt Patricia took me in.
And well… the rest is history.
Jesse’s hand tugs on my shoulder, urging me backward as I’m suddenly back to the present. The professor’s voice sounds closer.
We don’t wait around to hear his final threat to my father. Jesse and I have heard enough.
Quickly, we make our exit, rushing through the halls until we are almost to our room. I don’t know how much time is left on the spell exactly, but I do know we have only minutes left. We have to be in that room before time runs out.
We step inside and I nearly collapse on the floor. I fall to my hands and knees, panting for breath, my mind swirling with everything Jesse and I just found out.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I suck in a breath as my magic flurries with heat. Soren is here too?
Crap.
My magic is a torrent of different temperatures and pressures. Jesse, Milo, and now Soren are in close proximity of me and it’s a cascade of sensations that blend into one. It’s amazing, but neither sensation lasts for very long, it’s like each one is put on a continuous loop of taking turns.
At first, it’s hard to breathe, but soon it feels like I can fly. I can’t seem to get enough of it.
“Explain yourself,” Soren’s voice commands. “Now.”
I slowly lift my gaze to him. And man, does he look angry. He looks down his nose at me, standing in the middle of my room with his arms crossed over his chest.
“What were you just doing?” he asks.
My gaze switches between Jesse and Milo as I sit up on my knees. Milo doesn’t meet my gaze as he sits on the foot of my bed. Jesse seems overly nonchalant as he pushes himself past
Soren and lounges on his bed, hands behind his head. He meets my gaze and winks.
I shake my head, forcing back my smile.
Adorable idiot.
“I’m waiting,” Soren says, pulling my attention back to him. His green eyes are alight with fury and it only makes him hotter.
I shake my head to clear that idea from my mind. Getting caught in a torrent of hormones and sexual desires won’t do right now. “I snuck into Deacon Lawrence’s office.”
His eyes widen, his face reddens, and I think he’s about to implode. Though, I would hate to be the one to clean up the bits of brain matter and blood and skull fragments. So, I really, really hope he doesn’t.
Not to mention it would be a waste of so much sexy. But, it’s nice to know he’s still an asshole.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” I say, trying to soothe his rage. “Not really.”
“Oh? It sounds pretty bad, in fact, it sounds like grounds for expulsion. What were you thinking?”
“Dude,” Jesse says, “Chillax, take a seat, we’re all friends here.”
Soren twists at the waist to set his fiery gaze on my Jesse, who doesn’t cower or look the least intimidated. “We are not friends.”
Jesse shrugs. “Suit yourself, but before you go throwing threats of expulsion, you may want to first hear our little Wren’s story.”
Jesse, you gorgeous idiot, don’t get yourself killed for me.
Soren huffs as he returns his deadly gaze to me. “Well? I haven’t got all night. I have other things I could be doing besides standing here waiting on you.”
Oh, so we’re back to treating me like a child? Okay then.
I square my shoulders and rise to my feet, standing as tall as possible. “I did what I had to…”
“You did what you had to.” He looks up to the ceiling, shifting on his feet, chuckling under his breath. It has no humor, and I’m feeling a bit undignified by the action.
“It’s not like you were any help. He was up to something, knew too much about my background—things only I could know. It worried me, so I did a little digging, and I’m glad I did.”
He points at me. “You’re glad you performed highly illegal, advanced alchemy spells, sneaking around the school, and dragged two of your fellow initiates into it as well?”
“I did the spell,” Milo says, adjusting his glasses from my bed. “Wren didn’t. Just so we’re clear.”
“Is that supposed to make it better?” Soren asks as he settles his glare on Milo.
I’m impressed. He doesn’t shift or squirm. He meets Soren’s gaze head on.
He’s got a little badass in him after all.
Jesse says, “Hey man, shut up and listen. She’s not done. Besides, I forced her into taking me.”
Soren snorts. “Sure, you did.”
I can’t help it. I smile. Even though Soren can be such an ass, he pays attention. “Oh, I let him because I was on a time limit and I didn’t want to spend half of what was left arguing about whether or not he could come.”
Soren returns his attention to me with an arched eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“We knew what we were doing,” Milo added. “I wouldn’t jeopardize my place here without due cause. I have my own suspicions about the professor myself.”
Bless their hearts. I don’t want them to fall prey to Soren’s hatred. It’s not fun.
For a moment, I don’t know if Soren is going to throw punches in the room, spontaneously combust, or a dangerous possible number three that I don’t dare give attention to. Before any of that can happen, I step forward, closing the gap between us. This way, if he throws a punch at someone, it will be me, and because, damn it all, he’s fucking hot and my body reacts to him in layers of heat and passion.
Soren levels his furious gaze on me. With his full attention, I say, “I found my father.”
His eyes seem to burrow into my soul, desperately looking for a tell that I’m lying. I told him my story. He knows my father went missing. His eyebrows knit together and he asks, “How?”
“In a mirror,” Jesse said. “I saw the whole thing.”
“A mirror?” He sounds like he doesn’t believe us. I wouldn’t either, if I was just told that. But I was there. I saw it too.
“There is a mirror in a hidden cellar under his office. Jesse followed me down there, and Professor Lawrence was angry about something.” I touch his arm. “Soren, he’s threatening to hurt me if my father doesn’t find whatever it is he’s looking for.”
If I thought Soren was angry before now, I hadn’t seen anything yet. Flames spark and flicker along his arms. I jump back, removing my hand as I watch him start to combust. “Are you sure it was your father and not a trick?”
I narrow my eyes on him as a pinch forms in my forehead. “I’m positive. My father looked… old. Older than what he should be. He seemed weak and barely able to stand.”
He shakes his head. I can’t be sure if that means he doesn’t believe me or if he’s finally coming around. Either way, I don’t regret my actions one itty-bitty bit.
He sighs and faces Jesse. “You saw it too?”
“Would it matter?” Jesses asks. “I heard Lawrence threaten Wren to keep that man—father or not—in line. That’s all that should count, right?”
Finally, Soren faces me again and says, “I knew that man was trouble. This confirms a few suspicions of my own. But it doesn’t relieve you from fault of your actions.”
“I know,” I say. I don’t push any buttons. In this mood, with that fire crawling over his skin, I know better. Any slip-up, and the whole room could catch fire.
“Tell Gideon. Now.” Soren’s flames react to his last word, increasing his point. There was little room for argument.
But I shake my head. “No. I need proof.”
“Jesse,” he says.
“It’s just our word against his, even with Jesse seeing everything as well. I need something concrete. Something the professor can’t refute. Something beyond the room and the mirror.” I start to pace, wringing my fingers together and chewing on the corner of my lower lip.
“The room,” Soren says.
I shake my head. “We barely made it out of there without being caught. I really, really need proof. Something physical. Hard evidence. I need time to get that. I still need to know more. I have to find out where my father is.”
“Gideon can help,” Soren says. “I’ll give you some time to think about it, but the sooner you tell him, the better.”
I nod. “I agree.”
“For now,” he says, a little calmer, but it’s like a scary clam. “Don’t speak a word about this to anyone.”
He switches his gaze between the three of us and we all nod.
He approaches me and the way his eyes drink me in makes me a little weak in the knees. “Please don’t do anything else reckless.”
I nod, unable to speak. As he passes me, his hand brushes against mine, igniting my body in all kinds of pretty and lusty thoughts. I bite my lip and watch as the flames covering his skin die off before he steps through the door.
Once the door is shut, my magic recedes into a pattern that switches between rushing and coolness pulsating through me. I face Milo and Jesse. “Well, that was fun.”
“He’s hardly what I would call fun,” Milo says.
“Come on now,” Jesse says. “A little competition never hurt anyone.”
Milo levels his gaze on Jesse. “I’m not competing with anyone.” He turns toward me. “Though I have had a long day, and as much as I hate to end our time together, I need rest. I have a feeling our task of uncovering the professor’s secrets is just beginning.”
I nod and wrap him in a hug. “I understand. Thanks for the help. Get some good sleep.”
I breathe in deep his intoxicating smell and damn near give into my desires. He always smells delicious.
“You are very welcome. I’m glad to have been able to help.” He hugs me back and the feeling makes me melt into him a litt
le. He pulls away, all too soon and smiles at me.
“Goodnight, Milo,” I say, smiling back at him.
“Goodnight, Wren,” he says and turns to Jesse, “It was nice meeting you.”
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again real soon,” Jesse says wagging his fingers.
I narrow my eyes on Jesse and wonder what the hell he means by that. For the moment, I ignore that exchange and walk Milo to the door. Once he steps out into the hall, I shut the door and lean against it.
“So, what now, cupcake?” Jesse asks. “Want a little repeat of what I can do?”
I shake my head and smile, because this man just doesn’t quit, and I’m starting to like it.
“Bed.” I make my move toward my mattress and fall on top of it. I’m exhausted. The day has been long and hard, and I want to put it behind me.
Chapter Thirty
All of us remaining initiates gather around the statue of Lady Alene. The spirit of the academy has been a crucial part for me in the process of the trials. I don’t think I would’ve been able to do it without her.
I have relied on her wisdom and she has never judged me. So, as I face her once again, I feel as though I have a true friend standing in front of me.
And today, she’s going to help me be sorted into the house I will belong to in the Academy. I’m both nervous and excited. I know, though, Lady Alene has my back.
I trust her.
“Are you ready?” Lady Alene asks.
I smile. “Yes.”
We walk side-by-side through the garden. The stone path glitters in the warm sun light, and the stroll is taken at a leisurely pace. It’s pleasant, and with the gentle breeze to cool my skin from the warm day, I’m in bliss.
The garden path leads into a small orchard. Blooms of every color create a portrait of a place too beautiful to be on Earth. But it’s here, and so am I.
I smile, feeling like I belong for the first time in as long as I can remember. For the first time since home.
“Congratulations on completing your trials, Wren,” the lady says. “I do hope there are no hard feelings about your third trial.”
