There’s no way I can tell him. And even if I could, I don’t think he’ll listen. “All right.” I say. “If you’ve decided…”
“I have.” He turns to step away, then stops mid-stride. It’s starting to rain, just a little bit, a drizzle that soaks through to my bones. “You know what I keep thinking about?” he asks, almost under his breath. “Back there in the maze. In that room. If Fyl hadn’t said anything, if she’d just stayed quiet, do you think Marius would’ve killed her anyway?”
I don’t answer. Which is answer enough.
“Yeah. Me, neither.” He reaches up and brushes his cheek with the back of his hand. Behind us, a group of Humble men from the village arrive and lift the coffin solemnly, carrying it along the path to the docks. As the pallbearers pass us, Desmond joins them, sliding in between two to help carry the coffin. They seem surprised, but none of them say anything. He’s still a Wizard, after all.
“Desmond…” I call out, though I don’t know what I’m going to say.
“She believed in you, Alayne. She believed in you with all her heart.” He shoots me one last glance over his shoulder. “I hope it was worth it.”
He leaves. They all leave, Desmond and the Humbles and Fyl, gone forever, another person lost, another casualty in my wake. I turn away from them to get back to my room, but all the other Nethros are there, Tish and Zigmund and the rest, standing in the rain, staring at me, expectant and sad and scared. Marlena’s words echo in my ears. They need to know you’re still with them. They need to know you can still lead.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” I say, and it feels like the words are shards of glass I’m forcing out of my throat. “I didn’t want it to be like this. I didn’t want… I just… I…” and I can’t do it anymore, can’t lie to them, can’t drag anyone else down this path. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I can’t lead you,” I say, and then I turn and run, away from the dormitory, away from the campus, into the forest. I hear Tish cry after me, but I keep going, sprinting into the trees. Every part of me knows this is a bad idea, that I forgot to wear shoes so my bare feet are already stinging with cold, that the rain is getting heavier and heavier, that this is how Marius ambushed me in the first place, but I don’t care because right now I feel ready to make some bad decisions, ready to hurt and be hurt. I welcome the pain. I cherish it.
A root catches my ankle and I trip, slamming down hard into the dirt. The rain is heavy enough that I have to squint and blink to get it out of my eyes, soaking my hair down around my face, making me pant for breath. I scramble up under the tree and cradle my head in my hands and just sit there.
“Alayne.”
I look up. Talyn. He’s standing there, just a few feet away. He’s dressed for the weather, at least, with long leather gloves and a black fur-lined coat that hangs low down his back. He’s looking at me with his head cocked just the tiniest bit to the side, and it’s not pity or disappointment I see in his eyes, but something else. Understanding, maybe. It’s the only reason I don’t bolt. “Talyn,” I say, sliding back up against the tree. I look absolutely horrid, but nothing in his gaze suggests he sees it. “What are you doing out here?”
“I was coming to check on you when I saw you sprint off into the woods,” he says, without a trace of judgment. “Gods, you look frozen. Here.” He pulls his coat off and drapes it over my shoulders, and even though a part of me is screaming to tear it off and run, I don’t.
“You didn’t have to come,” I say, and I don’t know what it is but talking feels easier now, the words less forced. “Haven’t you learned your lesson about chasing me into the woods?”
“I recall that night working out fairly well.” He hunkers down next to me. I hesitate, and then I slide over to him, lean against him, just to stay warm. We sit in silence, the only sound around us the gentle patter of the rain. Finally, after a few peaceful minutes, he speaks. “Alayne… what happened down there in the maze?”
I close my eyes, leaning my head back against the tree. “Marius and his Vanguards were lying in wait at the heart of it. They ambushed us, captured us, took our gems. And then Marius killed Fyl, just to hurt me.”
“Keshta za’n truk,” he growls. “I worried he’d come for you, but not like that. The smug little shit…” He exhales sharply. “I’m sorry. Fyl deserved better.”
“You barely even knew her.”
“I knew her enough.” He reaches over and squeezes my hand. “We’ll avenge her. I promise.”
“I wish it were that easy,” I say, and my eyelids feel too heavy to open. “But I don’t know what to do, Talyn. Marius completely outplayed me and I’ve lost the support of my Order and two of my allies are gone and… and…” My words choke up in my throat. “And it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have brought her in there. I shouldn’t have put her in that position. She’s dead because of me.”
“She’s dead because Marius Madison is a dog without honor,” he says, and his hand is warm but his voice is ice. “You can’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have known.” I open my eyes to look at him. His shirt clings to him like a skin in the rain, and his breath drifts out in the air, a soft heat against my cheek. “Listen… we’ll avenge her together. We’ll humiliate Marius Madison so badly he’ll spend the rest of his life regretting what he did. We’ll ruin him.”
“I’m not going to ruin him,” I say, putting words to the rage that’s been smoldering inside. “I’m going to kill him.”
He stares at me, and when he talks, every word is cautious, like he’s taking the first steps onto a frozen lake. “I know where you’re coming from. I hear you. But you know I can’t let you do that.”
Rational or not, the rage spikes toward him. “And why the hell not?”
“Because it’s going too far. Shattering his reputation is one thing. But killing him? That would cause a problem between our nations. Hell, it might cause a war.” He shakes his head. “My father wouldn’t approve of that.”
“And that’s all you care about? Your father’s approval? Your reputation? Your status?” I stammer. “I mean, Marius tried to kill you!”
“And he would’ve been in big trouble with his father if he’d succeeded,” he says firmly. There is a tension here, an unease, a discomfort we haven’t felt between us before. He doesn’t pull away, but he tenses a little, swallowing hard. “Look. I’m here for one reason. To gain glory and to prove myself worthy to my father. Killing Marius won’t help me achieve that. And I don’t know what you’re after, not really, but I can’t see how killing him helps you. So let’s just take a deep breath and remember why we’re here. Let’s remember what this is all about.”
What this is all about? This is about injustice. This is about oppression. This is about vengeance for Fyl, for my parents, for Sera, for every last Humble who died on a Wizard’s whim. It’s about burning down a corrupt order, about righting so many wrongs, about ending centuries of bloodshed and cruelty. This is about the world.
I want to tell him that, but I can’t.
Because he wouldn’t understand.
My breath catches in my chest as a bolt of clarity hits me like a lance of ice. A chasm has always existed between us, a chasm I’ve willfully ignored, a chasm I’ve forgotten. But it’s there, and it’s real, and for the first time, it’s insurmountable. Talyn is kind and generous and strong. But at the end of the day, he’s still a Wizard.
I pull away instinctively, jerking my hand out of his. “Alayne?” he asks.
And there it is. One name, two syllables, that says it all. That’s who he sees when he looks at me, who he kisses, who he holds in his arms at night. I relished my time with him, soaked up his affection, lost myself in his caresses. But it wasn’t me he was interested in. It was Alayne Dewinter, noble Wizard, rebellious Nethro, the proud new Mark who dared to challenge the Order of Vanguard. He looks at me with admiration and desire, but what he’s looking at, what he’s so drawn to, isn’t me. It’s my mask.
Desmond was right. I lied to him, to Taly
n, to Fyl, to all of them. I let them place their trust in a lie, let them bleed and suffer and die for it. But I won’t do it. Not anymore.
I jerk back, away from his warmth. The cold welcomes me, embraces me. It feels like home. “I’m sorry,” I tell him, with certainty growing inside me like a gathering storm. It was wrong of me to open up to him, wrong of me to let myself be vulnerable, wrong of me to bring him in. “What we had was good. Wonderful even.” His brow creases, the corner of his mouth crinkling, and his soft eyes run the gamut of emotions: affection, uncertainty, confusion, then the sadness of understanding. “But…”
He stands up, takes a step to me, reaches out. “There doesn’t have to be a but.”
“Yes. There does,” I say, and take another step back, and I know now he won’t follow. “When we started this, you said there would come a day when we weren’t on the same path anymore. That day is now, Talyn. Where I’m going, what I’m going to do, I can’t bring you with me. So we have to part ways.”
“Listen to me,” he says, “I know you. I know you’re hurting now. But I know you don’t want to do anything stupid.…”
“You don’t know me, Talyn,” I say. “That’s the whole point. You don’t know who I really am. And that’s why we can’t keep doing this.”
“Alayne…”
“You’re a prince, Talyn. You serve your kingdom, your father. That’s who you are. And I’m… I’m…” I shake my head, struggling for words. The walls are closing in, the boundaries dissolving. I need to get out. I need to be alone. “I’m someone else. Someone you don’t know. Someone you wouldn’t understand.”
“You’re making a mistake,” he says.
“I’m making a choice,” I reply, and walk off into the rain.
CHAPTER 37
Now
I don’t know what I’m going to do next, just that I need to do something, to keep moving so I don’t drown. Luckily, I suppose, I don’t have to figure it out, because Professor Calfex is waiting for me outside my room. She takes one look at me, soaked through to my skin, and sighs. “Get yourself cleaned up,” she says. “Headmaster Aberdeen wants to see you in my office.”
Twenty minutes later, my hair still damp, I stroll into Calfex’s office. I’m not nervous, though I probably ought to be. After this morning, I just feel numb.
Headmaster Aberdeen rests in Calfex’s chair, perusing some random scroll, and his face lights up as I enter. “Ah! Lady Dewinter!” he beams. When we last spoke, he was cautious, analytical, but now he radiates a smug confidence, the cat grinning at the wounded mouse. It’s infuriating, and I feel my hands twitch, tensing halfway into fists. Gods above, did he ever pick the wrong day. “Thank you so much for coming to meet me!”
“Of course, Headmaster,” I reply, forcing a smile. Professor Calfex is in the room as well, standing by a bookshelf, and she glances over her shoulder as I enter. Our eyes meet, and hers narrow, intense, cautious. Tread carefully, they say. “To what do I owe the honor?”
“Why, to a headmaster’s concern,” he says, oozing patrician kindness. “I noticed your absence in our Glyphcraft class and I had to come check and make sure you were all right.”
The idea that the headmaster personally checks on every student who misses a class is so patently absurd Calfex actually rolls her eyes, and I have to fight the urge to do the same. “Thank you,” I say instead. “I’m all right. Fylmonela was a friend of mine. I needed a few days to mourn.”
“Of course,” Aberdeen replies, gently shaking his head. “It’s always so tragic when we lose a student.”
Is he trying to provoke me? Because it’s working. And he picked the wrong godsdamned day, because I’m of half a mind to take him up on it, to draw the Loci at my hips and show him just how Fyl died. My hands slide to my side, but then I see Calfex’s expression, the tiny shake of her head, and I remember how Aberdeen carves during class, his precision, his grace, the staggering complexity of his Glyphs. I’d be dead before I even finished.
So I let my hands fall and I lower my head. “I’m sorry I missed your class. It won’t happen again.” I take one long breath, hold it in, let it out. “Is that all?”
“Not exactly.” He rises from his chair, his robe billowing out around him as he moves. He’s wearing a thick black leather belt around his waist, and his Loci hang off it at his hips, neatly holstered. “Professor Calfex, would you mind if we had a word alone?”
“I would,” she replies, and even though she doesn’t look at him, her voice is iron. “You’re in my office, Headmaster, and she’s my ward. Anything you want to say to her, you can say in front of me.”
Aberdeen’s gray eye flits to Calfex, his brow furrowed. He’s actually surprised; I can’t imagine he hears no often. A long, tense moment passes as he considers his options, and then he just shrugs. “As you wish, Adjunct,” he says, and turns back to me. “When we last spoke, Lady Dewinter, we had quite the philosophical conversation. We discussed clocks and gears, spoke of how every piece knows its place. I gave you some advice on the Second Challenge, if you’ll recall?”
Lose doesn’t exactly qualify as advice, but I nod all the same. “I do.”
“If only you’d listened.” He shakes his head sorrowfully, long gray beard swaying like the boughs of a willow tree. “How differently things might have turned out.”
“Are you going somewhere with this?” Calfex growls. “Or have you just come to taunt my student in her moment of grief?”
“All things in time.” He smiles, even as his eye narrows. “The truth is, Lady Dewinter, I’m not here out of cruelty but out of kindness. Because I believe that every student, no matter how stubborn or defiant, deserves a second chance. That’s what I’m here to offer you.”
“A second chance?”
“A chance to put the past behind you. A chance to start again. One last chance for the stray gear to find her place.” He steps toward me, and I swear if he touches me I’m going to lose what’s left of my calm. “It’s clear to all of us on the faculty that you and Marius Madison have quite the feud going. While I do value the spirit of a heated rivalry, I worry this conflict may quickly escalate, particularly in light of what happened in the maze. I’ve seen feuds like this before, and they can spiral out of control, consuming whole Orders, distracting the entire student body, disrupting our learning environment. Competition is healthy, but in the end, we are all Wizards, after all. We’re on the same side.” He doesn’t say who the other side is, and he doesn’t have to. “I’m here to ask you to help put this feud to rest, Lady Dewinter. To resolve things with Lord Madison, and let us all move forward.”
“You want me to make peace with Marius?” I can’t help but growl. “After what he did to Fyl?”
“What he did to Fyl was defend himself from an illegal attack,” Aberdeen says firmly. “Our judges all reviewed it and came to that conclusion. Yet despite this, I have heard rumors circulating through the student body, malevolent lies that claim Marius attacked her first.” He has to know he’s lying, he has to, but he says it so oily smooth it comes off like the truth. “I’m asking you to publicly put to rest any rumors of wrongdoing or foul play. To restore order. Do you understand?”
Oh, I understand, all right. That’s what this is all about. He wants me to stand in front of everyone and tell them that Marius is innocent, that Fyl deserved to die. It’s not enough that he did it, not enough that he got away with it. No, the final twist of the knife, the final degradation, is that I have to be the one to clear his name.
“It’s your choice, of course,” he says with the most genial of shrugs. “It was your choices, after all, that led you to where you are now. Friendless, humiliated, defeated. A girl on the cusp of ruin. I offer you now a chance to turn that around. Help me out, and I think you’ll be surprised how quickly your fortunes will turn, how high your family will rise.”
I dig my nails into my palm as hard as I can, focus on that pain, on the light glinting off the window, on anything but how f
urious I feel. “And if I don’t?”
Aberdeen steps past me, resting a hand on my shoulder, and, oh, Gods, focus on the pain, focus on the hurt, drown out the rage. “Then you’ll discover just how much more you have to lose.”
“Headmaster,” Calfex hisses.
He jerks his hand away with an apologetic shrug, a grandfather’s kindly smile. “I’m done here, Adjunct. She’s all yours. I do recommend you guide her to the right choice. Anything else, well, I’d have to consider a dereliction of your duties.” His eye sparkles with malice.
He strolls out of the room, robe fluttering behind him. Calfex glares after him, her knuckles white in her clenched fists, and she mutters something in Izachi. “What the hell was that?” I say, letting out the breath that was tight in my chest.
“That was damage control,” she says coldly. “The Potts family has rejected the official account of Fylmonela’s death and is publicly denouncing Blackwater. Ordinarily, that wouldn’t matter, and they’d be easily dismissed, but after the impact you all made during the First Challenge, well, it’s not quite as simple as he’d like.” She shrugs. “For the many Wizards out there who oppose the Traditionalists, you and Fyl were symbols of defiance. Her dying at Marius’s hand doesn’t sit well.”
The idea of a bunch of Wizards cheering me as a symbol of defiance is so ironic, it makes my head hurt, but I don’t dwell on that. “That’s what this is about? Shutting up Fyl’s family?”
“No, it’s about restoring order,” she says, venom dripping off the last word. “What Aberdeen cares about more than anything else is stability and civility, that his precious machine of a school, of a Republic, keeps on running smoothly. You’ve upended that order. You’ve caused chaos. And Fyl’s death, well, it’s oil on the fire.” She pinches the bridge of her nose with a weary sigh. “You publicly absolving Marius would put that fire out. It would be understood by everyone as a declaration of surrender, of you bending the knee to them. It would take this nascent blaze you’ve started and smother it before it has a chance to grow.” Her hand runs along the hilt of a dagger on her desk. “Nothing bolsters a tyrant more than crushing a rebellion.”
It Ends in Fire Page 27
