by Linsey Hall
By the time I made it to the top, I was lightheaded from exertion and nerves. There was a wooden lid at the top, into which a hole had been cut. To illustrate the purpose of the little room, I had to assume.
I had a mental image of a big, pale butt sitting on the toilet seat over top of me and almost laughed. A gag was the only thing that stopped the noise, and in truth, it was easy to gag at the idea of that happening.
At the top, I pushed on the wooden board with the hole cut into it. The thing lifted easily, and I shimmied out into a small room built on the castle wall. The guards’ toilet back in the old days, I had to assume.
No time to explore, though I did think it was pretty interesting.
Instead, I hurried out onto the rampart and searched for the flag. It was supposed to be on top of the tallest tower. When I didn’t spot it, my heart fell briefly.
Then I heard the slam of Lavender’s cannon as it finally broke through the castle wall. She wasn’t in yet, so the flag should still be here. No way Angus, Carl, or Lorence had beaten her.
What had Romeo said about a tower near the toilet?
I looked up, and realized that it loomed right behind me. I hadn’t noticed it when I’d had eyes only for the toilet. But it was here, right next to me, reaching into the sky with a flag fluttering from the top.
Heck yeah.
I turned and began to scale the tower, hand over hand until I reached the top. It was one of those crenelated tops with a big platform in the middle. I was about to climb onto the flat surface when magic flared on the air, my only warning. I looked down just in time to see Lavender standing below me, her hands raised. I didn’t have time to search for whatever was flying at my head—I just lunged onto the top of the tower, ducking.
A huge trash bin flew over my head.
That chick really had a thing for trash bins.
The bin slammed into the edge of the tower, trash flying everywhere. Romeo would have a field day. I scrambled to my feet, lunging toward the flagpole. Quickly, I grabbed my mother’s knife from the sheath at my thigh and sliced through the rope. The flag fell, and I caught it.
A grin spread over my face.
Hell yeah.
I’d won.
Except, I’d also climbed up through a toilet. Gingerly, I lifted my hand to my face and sniffed.
“What are you doing?” Lavender’s voice cracked through the air.
“Nothing.” I jerked my hand down. I didn’t think I smelled.
Oh man, it seemed like the possibility for embarrassment hadn’t quite passed.
Lavender scowled at me. “How the hell did you get up here?”
“I have my ways.” Toilets.
I brushed past her, our truce over the stone giant forgotten, and climbed back down the side of the tower, the flag tucked in my back pocket.
When I landed on the main rampart, Bree was waiting for me, her silver wings glinting. I strode toward her, keeping my voice low. “Do I smell?”
She frowned at me, then her brows rose. “Ah, right. That’s how you got in. I wondered what that hole in the wall was.” She leaned forward and sniffed. “No. You’re fine. There was nothing in the chute, right?”
“Not after all these years, but you never know.” I wanted to wash my hands right away.
“Did she help you?” Lavender demanded from behind. “Because that’s not fair.”
I turned and grinned at her. “Nope. Just yelled in my ear that I’m a moron.”
Lavender shifted and smiled a bit. “Well, she’s not wrong.”
“Hey!” Bree snapped. “Only I get to call my sister a moron. Or Ana. Sisters’ privilege.”
My smile widened. “Aw, I love you, Bree.”
“Back atcha.”
“Well done!” Jude’s voice carried across the ramparts, and I turned, catching sight of her approaching. Jude’s stride was long and confident, her braids bouncing against her back and her starry blue eyes glowing against her dark skin. Angus, Carl, and Lorence trailed behind her, pulling up short when they stopped.
“Well, Rowan, it looks like you won.” Jude smiled broadly. “Let’s meet at the Whiskey and Warlock for a celebratory drink. And you can collect your prize.”
Twenty minutes later, after cleaning up in the pub bathroom and retouching my lipstick—Murderous Magenta, this time, which often suited my mood when I had to deal with Lavender—I joined everyone out in the little room that acted as our unofficial hangout.
I stepped into the small space, tugging at my black leather jacket as I surveyed the scene. Jude sat on a bench against the wall, while Bree and my classmates crowded around the table that was in front of her.
I swung by the shining wooden bar where Sophie stood drying a glass. Today, the bartender’s shirt read “Nessie is My Other Ride.”
She spotted me and grinned. “I’ve got just the thing for you tonight.”
“Really?” I leaned on the bar and smiled.
“Yep. New beer in from Orkney called the Skull Splitter. Really rich, kinda fruity.”
“Sounds great.” I loved trying new beers. New anything, really. I’d been kidnapped while still a teenager, so I’d missed out on a lot. I was determined to make up for lost time.
While she fetched the beer, I replayed the race in my head, searching for any ways that I could have done it better. If I wanted to graduate and join the PITs, I needed to be perfect.
Sophie returned, popping the top on a dark bottle and handing it over. “Your sister already paid.”
“Thanks.” I took the beer and sipped as I turned. The cold, refreshing bubbles tickled my mouth, a reward for a job well done.
I joined my friends, squeezing into a chair next to Bree.
Jude leaned forward. “Well done, Rowan. You won.”
I raised my beer and tilted my head toward her.
Jude reached her hand under the table and pulled out the electric sword that I’d hidden back on the stairs during the race. My eyes widened.
“It was good you ditched it,” Jude said. “You couldn’t have carried it down the Royal Mile without being noticed. But given your performance today, I think you deserve to keep it. As your prize for winning.”
I grinned widely. “Really?”
I loved this sword.
“Really. An electric sword was going to be the prize for the winner, but you jumped the gun and took it for yourself.” She tilted her head. “I respect that. I respect even more that you let it go when you knew it wouldn’t help you achieve your goals. Even though you loved it.”
My cheeks heated at the praise, and Jude held the sword out to me.
“Thank you.” I grabbed the hilt, my smile growing wider. It would do well in my arsenal. The prize. I looked at Bree. “Can you get your guy to enchant this so it’s stored in the ether for me?” It was the best spell in the world, that ether storage spell for weapons. I loved being able to yank them out at any time and use them.
Bree nodded. “I’ll call Franklin and ask him.”
“You rock.” I didn’t know the mage she bought the spells from, but she seemed to trust him and that was good enough for me.
I looked back at Jude.
“Well done,” she said. “I think you have a bright—” Her eyes widened on something behind my shoulder, and I turned.
Maximus stood in the doorway, his shoulders filling the space. The gladiator mage and my unofficial trainer looked as good as ever, of course. Like a freaking fallen angel. He was well over six feet tall and all rangy muscle, with dark hair and blue eyes. He’d earned those muscles in the real Colosseum thousands of years ago, and I was grateful to the god Virtus who’d brought him forward into present day.
That didn’t mean I knew how to act around him, though. The attraction was off the charts, and we’d shared one kiss a couple days ago that we’d studiously avoided talking about. We’d had one fight training session before he’d been called away by the Order of the Magica on an emergency, and the tension had been insane. We�
��d been in a room with other students and staff, though, so it hadn’t been the time.
But all of that combined to make me awkward as hell, of course. It was my MO most of the time, anyway.
His brilliant blue eyes moved straight to mine, and it became even harder not to think of our kiss. My heart immediately began thundering, and a horde of butterflies started having a party in my middle. I swallowed hard, trying to look cool and unaffected. Now was not the time to remember our kiss from two days ago, but I couldn’t help it.
I nodded briefly and moved my gaze away. The last thing I needed was for my future boss to see me making eyes at a hot dude when I was supposed to be focusing on my work.
Would my classmates tell him I’d climbed in a toilet? The errant thought slipped into my head.
Would he kiss me again, or was I now Toilet Girl?
I had won though.
Worth it.
Maximus strode toward our table.
Jude stood. “Is there a problem?”
He nodded sharply.
“We’ll go to the round room,” Jude said, referencing the war room where we often held most of the major discussions.
Maximus shook his head. “This will do fine, actually. The relevant parties are here.”
His gaze moved to me, and I blinked.
I was a relevant party?
I had no idea what he meant, but I was suddenly dying of curiosity.
Jude sank down onto the bench. “What’s going on?”
Maximus pulled up a chair and sat. “The Order of the Magica has a possible lead on the two witches who committed the murders last week. A seer gave us a tip.”
My gaze sharpened on him, my interest piqued. Those damned witches had turned into giant killer birds. Every time they’d killed, the dark magic inside me had erupted. To say that I was invested in catching them was an understatement. I was connected to them, even though I didn’t want to be, and I sure as heck wanted to stop them. We might have bound them from harming with their beaks or claws, but they could still use some nasty magic when they were in their human forms.
“Where are they?” Jude asked.
“We believe they may try to infiltrate the Intermagic Games.”
I leaned forward. “That big race with a fabulous prize at the end?”
My gaze darted to Bree, and her eyes were as wide as mine felt. We might have spent most of our lives broke and on the run, but even we’d heard of the Intermagic Games. They were a big freaking deal. Apparently the competitions were dangerous and fantastic and weird. They were often like an obstacle course with clues, and occasionally spectators could watch parts of the competition.
“The same,” Maximus said. “Every five years, the Intermagic Games hosts the competition for the students from some of the great magic academies. It’s dangerous, but the prize is always highly coveted, so people compete.”
“We’ve never sent competitors,” Jude said. “It’s beneath our mission to compete in a game.”
“I know.” Maximus nodded. “But that’s why we think you can help us. We suspect that the witches won’t compete formally—they don’t have an invitation—but they’ll try to infiltrate the games to steal the prize at the end. We want to enter the games and try to catch them.”
“Why don’t you just tell the Intermagic Games Council?” Lavender asked. “They’ll cancel the games, and the witches won’t get the prize.”
“They won’t cancel the games—they’re too profitable. And we hold no jurisdiction there, so we can’t force them. We’re not sure we want to, anyway. This is a good opportunity to try to catch the witches, since we know where they will be. Even though this makes the games more dangerous, the contestants are aware that the race is deadly. They know the risks,” Maximus said.
He was right. It was famously deadly, actually. Years ago—probably at the last games, since they ran every five years—two of the contestants had died in a giant snake pit. I shuddered at the thought.
“We want to send a team to the games,” Maximus said. “That way, we can try to catch the witches. At the very least, we can try to beat them to the prize.”
“I presume that’s where we come in?” Jude asked.
Maximus nodded. “We’ve bought a spot for one team to enter.” A grim smile stretched across his face. “The Intermagic Games Council is easily bought.”
They must be, if they’d allow the games to go on despite the fact that evil witches were infiltrating.
Maximus continued. “Four teams of two compete in the games. We can send one team.” His gaze moved to me. “I’d like Rowan to compete as my partner. They don’t need to know that I’m not officially a student at the Academy. As long as we enter under your banner, we’re fine.”
My heart thundered. I liked the idea of being invited. I was also scared out of my wits. The snake pit, after all.
“If you’ve already bought a spot to compete, then the Intermagic Games Council is expecting our Academy to enter. You’ve already signed us up.”
Maximus nodded. “The games start tomorrow. We didn’t have much time. And I suspected that you would agree. This is too big of an opportunity to stop evil.”
Jude frowned, but she nodded. “You’re right. I want in. These witches are immensely dangerous to the well-being of the world, and we won’t sit back if this is a chance to catch them. But I won’t command Rowan to go.” She turned to me. “Today you proved that you’re the most qualified. But I leave it up to you if you want to be the Undercover Protectorate’s champion at the games.”
My eyes widened.
Champion? At the Intermagic Games?
Holy fates, that was a big deal. It even sounded cool.
More importantly—much more importantly—it was an opportunity to catch the witches. I had to take it. I was about to nod when I remembered what he said about the prize. “What’s the prize?”
“This year, it’s a Truth Teller,” Maximus said.
A low gasp sounded through the group. A Truth Teller was a super-rare magical object. So rare that I’d never seen one. Probably no one at the table had seen one. They were almost mythical in their ability to tell you anything you wanted to know. Unlike a seer, who often had blind spots or could occasionally be downright wrong, the Truth Teller knew all.
It would be so valuable to the Protectorate. We’d be so much more effective at stopping bad guys and protecting the innocent. I wanted to win that for our side. We could catch the witches and take home the prize.
A selfish part of me piped up, deep inside. With a Truth Teller, I could find out what kind of Dragon God I was. I could figure out how to get rid of the dark magic inside of me. Forever.
“I’ll compete if the Protectorate gets to keep the Truth Teller,” I said. “If our team wins, that is.”
Jude gave me an appraising look. “Quick thinking. Having a Truth Teller would be a huge boon for the Protectorate. It could help us with our cases. We could save countless lives with it.”
We would help no matter what—I knew the Protectorate well enough to know that. But why not try for more?
And I suddenly wanted to win this thing. Somehow, I’d gone from having a goal of just staying alive in this smaller race to wanting to win an enormous, potentially fatal international competition hosted by the biggest magical government of them all. But I could really help the Protectorate by doing this.
Maximus frowned, then nodded. “I can arrange that.”
“Perfect.” I grinned. “Looks like things are about to get deadly.”
3
The next evening, I waited outside of the Théâtre Rouge with Maximus. The ornate old theatre was a landmark in Paris, and the introductory part of the competition was supposed to take place here in front of an audience. The idea made me slightly nauseous. Traditionally, aspects of the competition were turned into a spectator sport, so the theatre made sense. I just wasn’t a theatre kind of girl. At least, not the kind who wanted to be on the stage.
I e
yed Maximus, who stood next to me. After drinks at the Whiskey and Warlock last night, he’d headed off immediately.
Which was fine. Really.
At least, that’s what I was telling myself.
I’d also told myself that we wouldn’t kiss again. That I was going to focus on my magic. Everything in my life was so chaotic—dark magic inside me, new magic I needed to learn to control, coursework at the Academy—that I didn’t have time for a relationship.
Especially not with my trainer.
But as I stood next to him on the darkened street in Paris, the old street lamps glowing golden around us and the Eiffel Tower spearing the sky, it was hard to remember that.
Because damn, did he look good.
We’d been told to dress nicely for the introductory event—it was a spectator sport, after all, and we were the entertainment—and Maximus had listened. In his own way, at least. They certainly weren’t formal clothes. He was ready to fight at the drop of a hat. But he wore all black, close fitting and perfectly tailored clothes that showed off his height and strength to perfection.
Jude had rejected my plans for a dress, saying that it was possible the competition would start immediately after the introductory show. I hadn’t worn a dress in so many years that I was actually kind of excited about the possibility, but I was no dummy. I didn’t want to be fighting for my life in a skirt and heels. Hard to run in stilettos, no matter how cool they looked. Not to mention that kicking in demon teeth was easier in boots.
So I’d settled for a pair of skinny black jeans—no holes!—and a sleek, short leather jacket that matched. Of course I wore pink lipstick—Magenta Magic, this time. But instead of my usual pink shirt, I’d chosen a slinky gold top that glittered.
A small leather bag hung crosswise over my back, stuffed full of potion bombs of all varieties. Gold hoops in my ears would have looked cool as hell, but again, impractical. A demon could yank one right out, and hell no to that. Gold studs instead, and fake, since I was basically broke. The Academy gave me a small stipend, but I was saving up just in case things went to hell here and I needed to make a life on my own outside.
