by Isla Frost
“It’s okay. You don’t have to pretend it sucked just so I don’t feel like I’m missing out.”
Ameline looked at me with sympathy. “Let’s just say it beats trials and leave it at that.”
But something moved beneath her hair, and the hooked beak and bright beady eyes of a bird of prey angled toward me.
“Um, did you know you have a bird in your hair?” I asked.
“Ameline found out she has mind magic,” Bryn blabbed. “Mostly attuned to animals, but she should be able to mindspeak to familiar people one day too. Grimwort told her she should practice constantly, so meet Pig, her practice buddy.”
“What?” I didn’t know which piece of news to react to first.
“I already told you I’m not calling him Pig,” Ameline protested. She lifted the bird off her shoulder. Except it wasn’t a bird.
“He’s a pygmy griffin,” she explained. “Professor Wilverness found him after a predator ate the rest of his family, and she was helping him survive to adulthood.”
I hadn’t known such a creature existed, but as soon as she said griffin, it began to make sense. Except Pig, or whatever his name was, looked more like a hawk crossed with a spotted house cat—or kitten rather—instead of a giant eagle and a majestic lion.
Aside from his diminutive size, his plumage hadn’t quite come into its own yet, and the effect was cute and comical, not at all fierce.
While Ameline’s attention was fixed on her new companion, Bryn pushed her nose up into a pig’s snout and winked at me.
I snickered and felt some of the tension slip away. As much as it was disheartening to compare Ameline’s Advanced Magic lesson discoveries to my own useless traipse around the forest, it was good to be among friends.
The thought made me glance over at Theus and Lirielle’s table. From day one, they’d always sat alone except for each other, and I’d assumed it was by choice.
Now I saw that in a different light too.
“Would you mind if I invite Theus and Lirielle to sit with us?” I asked.
I didn’t know whether they’d want to sit with us. It was likely better for their street cred if they didn’t. But I thought Theus might at least appreciate being invited, and it seemed a small gesture in return for all he’d offered me.
Bryn raised a brow and shoved another bite of the crispy fish and greens and mango salad into her mouth. “Sure.”
“That would be a nice thing to do,” Ameline agreed.
Their eyes shone with curiosity, but neither pressed me for details.
“I’ll fill you in later,” I promised.
Then I pushed back from the table and spotted Glenn and Glennys by the door that led to the kitchen. I supposed it was a good a time as any to make my strange request. But I hesitated.
“By the way,” I said in the same casual tone I’d used to ask about inviting Theus and Lirielle to join us, “do your new weapons, um, talk to you?”
I guess I was looking for reassurance that I wasn’t losing my mind. Cricklewood had said the weapons would “practically wield themselves.” Maybe they’d all been imbued with teaching personalities of some sort. Like the artificial intelligence grandmother had tried to explain to me once except with magic.
But Bryn frowned. “Do you mean by helping guide your muscles to wield them?”
I bit my lip. “No. Actual conversation.”
“Ha, no way. It might be a magic axe, but it’s still just a hunk of metal. Wait. Does yours? What does it say?”
Darn. Maybe it was because they hadn’t gotten blood on theirs yet, but I had a bad premonition that Gus was just… special.
“He told me he wanted to be bathed in milk and honey,” I admitted.
Then I bolted from the table before my friends could ask me any follow-up questions.
Chapter Thirteen
By the time I’d wrangled supplies from the kitchen, Theus and Lirielle had almost finished their meals. I extended the invitation to join us anyway, and Theus responded with, “Thank you, perhaps next time.”
The look in his eyes said more, and I thought he understood the gesture I was trying to make.
The rest of the day’s classes passed without further incident. Beyond the glares leveled my way and odd whisper of “abomination” that is.
Still, it was a relief after what might’ve been the longest twenty-four hours of my life. The worst part of my afternoon was the messy and sticky job of bathing Gus. (If you’ve never tried to wash an incredibly sharp thirty-three-inch blade in milk and honey, don’t judge.)
Afterward, I needed to wash myself. So once Bryn and Ameline managed to pick themselves off the floor where they’d been laughing at my expense, we headed to the bathroom.
Pig, who Ameline had yet to offer an alternative name for, flapped his way under Ameline’s shower spray and then perched on top of the stall to preen his bedraggled feathers while his wet tail lashed back and forth. That part of him must be more bird than cat.
My friends finished before I did. They hadn’t been covered in milk and honey for a start, and I’d come to love hot showers. They were the favorite part of my day at the academy, and I found them almost meditative. Not to mention handy for easing tight muscles.
Ameline called over the shower door. “We’ll meet you back at the dorm. Don’t stay too long or you’ll turn into a prune.”
“Yes,” Bryn agreed. “Plus you should hurry up because you owe us loads of news and we’re not letting you sleep until you give it to us.”
I ignored them both.
When my skin had indeed become so waterlogged that I resembled a preserved stone fruit, I finally shut the water off and headed back to our dorm room.
After the sticky endeavor of cleaning my new weapon, I was rethinking my relationship with Gus. It hadn’t occurred to me to wonder at the time of our introduction, but if he was everything he claimed—a millennia-old magical blade that would never need sharpening or oiling—why would a walker let him out of their familial armory to offer to a bunch of human teenagers?
Perhaps Gus was delusional. Perhaps he wasn’t even a sword. Just a ghost attached to it.
A delusional ghost sword. Yeah, that’d be my luck.
He was made out of a material I didn’t recognize, and I hadn’t seen any rust or blunted edges or so much as a scratch on his surface. But the existence of walkers and the Malus and other worlds made it clear that there was much I hadn’t seen before. It didn’t mean Gus was everything he claimed to be.
Maybe I’d ask him why his last wielder or their descendants had given him up for a mere human to wield the next time he annoyed me.
No doubt that opportunity would come quickly.
I was so absorbed by the puzzle my talking sword presented that I almost tripped over a walker student.
She was lounging against the wall, slender arms folded in a deceptively casual pose, and she looked me up and down with interest.
Unsure what to expect, I returned her regard.
She was about my height and almost dainty, but body type made little difference to the strength of a walker. Her flame-red hair was piled high on her head, showing off her elegant neck and the perfect oval of her face, and though she stayed in her casual pose, there was something about her effortless posture and grace that reminded me of a ballet dancer. Captivating light hazel eyes, a petite nose, and full lips completed the package.
If I’d met her in the Before, I would’ve thought she was an angel. Or a succubus.
Of course, I knew better.
“You’re the wildcard, right?” she asked in a silken voice that mirrored her languid beauty. “The one everyone’s talking about?”
I supposed there was no point in denying it, so I lifted my chin and braced for a fight, wishing I hadn’t left Gus to air-dry.
“Yes.”
But the walker kept her arms folded and made no move toward me. Instead, her beautiful face twisted.
Was that sympathy? Pity?
M
aybe I’d gotten milk in my eyes.
“I heard Grimwort’s refusing to teach you. Tough break.”
I was suspicious, but I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. This girl was a hollow. No matter how snotty or smug or careless she might act, somewhere underneath was a kid who must be wondering why me?
So I didn’t edge farther away or let my hand creep closer to my dagger. All I said was, “That’s right.”
She extended a hand to shake mine. An utterly human gesture that looked contrived on her perfect form.
“I’m Ellbereth of House Neryndrith.”
Ellbereth. She was rumored to be one of the most powerful walkers here, and I recalled she’d been among those that had played games with the humans who’d fawned over them in the early days of the academy.
“Nova,” I returned stiffly. “To what do I owe the honor of your attention?”
I wasn’t sure whether I wanted her to pick up my sarcasm or not. So much for benefit of the doubt. But it was hard to feel anything but dubious after months of being ignored by this girl and almost every one of her kind, only to gain their notice now. So far, very little of their attention had been good.
Ellbereth’s hazel eyes narrowed. “I’m here to help you.”
That’d be a first.
“Help me how?”
She leaned toward me. “There’s a way out, you know. To free yourself of your terrible magic.” Her words were sincere. Her expression soft and inviting. “Free yourself from this academy. From ever having to dance with the Malus.” She leaned closer still and all but whispered the last words. “We’ll even help you get home to your family.”
For a moment, just a moment, I experienced what that would feel like had it been true.
The hope.
The immense joy. Of returning to my lumpy old mattress where I’d spent so many nights curled around my little sister. Of getting to see my brother grow taller each week and being able to scruff his hair just to irk him. Of how incredible it would feel to have my father’s arms wrapped around me in that all-protective bear hug one more time.
And the relief—so great I could’ve wept—of leaving this burden on someone else’s shoulders.
It was too good to be true. I knew that. But still I heard myself ask, “How?”
Ellbereth smiled. The way a dragon might smile as a fat, juicy knight approached its lair.
“There’s a procedure. Not unlike the transformation ritual really, except instead of increasing your magic, it will take it away. You’ll be cleansed of the cursed dark power that never should’ve been awakened within you, and since you’ll be no use to the academy without your magic, I’ll make sure you get home. It’s simple enough for me to open a gateway after all.”
I wasn’t really considering it.
Was I?
I couldn’t leave Bryn and Ameline to face the Malus alone. Couldn’t throw this magic away if there was a chance it might be the wildcard gift that could end the destruction of the Malus. And I couldn’t trust this walker girl as far as I could throw her in all probability.
Which was why I asked, “How dangerous would this procedure be?”
She waved a hand. “Hard to say. It’s never been performed on a human before.”
That was an evasive answer if I’d ever heard one.
“How dangerous is it on walkers?”
Her smile thinned. “Risky. But you’ve survived everything the academy’s thrown at you so far, haven’t you? I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
I closed my eyes. Thankful perhaps that her answer hadn’t been, no risk at all! That it hadn’t tempted me further.
My mind was made up. If there’d ever been a choice. But I thought it best not to deny her outright.
This wasn’t Klay I was dealing with here. I was outmatched in every way.
“Thank you for the offer. I’ll have to think about it.”
So fast I barely saw her move, Ellbereth seized my arm in a grip hard enough to bruise.
“There’s no time to waste. We must act tonight.”
“Ouch.” I jiggled my arm, attempting to loosen her hold.
But her fingers didn’t relax even a fraction. And she started hauling me down the corridor.
“Let me just sleep on it,” I countered, dragging my feet to buy time.
What was the rush? Did she fear if I learned how to use my magic properly, I’d become too powerful to manhandle? Or—I remembered the brief high I’d felt when I’d pulled the flum’s life force into myself—that I would become addicted?
Surely one night would make no difference in either case.
But Ellbereth didn’t slow down. “No. I’m going to help you now.”
Even with my dragging feet, we were traveling at a good clip down the corridor.
I looked around for something or someone to turn to my advantage. Help certainly wasn’t about to come from my new oh-so-feared gift that was utterly useless against hollows. But what was I going to do? Stab her with the dagger concealed in my thigh holster?
Not unless I had to.
That was when I saw the wallpaper move. Millicent.
A horned bear-like creature held up one digit on its paw. One. A bird with a wicked beak lifted two of its four wings. Two. A kraken held up three of its tentacles. Three.
I planted my feet just as one of the floorboards jumped up right in front of Ellbereth’s boot. She stumbled, loosening her hold on me as she fought to regain her balance.
I wrenched my arm back and didn’t give her a chance to retake it, sprinting in the opposite direction.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get far.
My skin prickled and then a rope of magic locked around my ankles and yanked me backward. My hands and torso slammed to the ground even as my legs hauled me toward Ellbereth. Ouch.
“I was trying to be nice about it,” she said. “But for all your evil magic, you are powerless against me.”
And I was.
I clawed at the ancient timber floor, trying to find purchase. Millicent lifted one of the boards, allowing me to wrap my fingers around it and cling on.
Until the board snapped in two.
Ellbereth wasn’t even looking. She strolled down the corridor, certain I would follow.
I bit back a cry. Of frustration. Of helplessness. Of fear.
Dammit! The transformation ritual was supposed to make things better, make me more powerful and give me a fighting chance against the walkers. Instead, I was stuck in this academy with a terrifying magic surrounded by the few people in existence unaffected by it.
And now a bunch of those people wanted to kill me. Or strip me of the magic, which would probably have the side effect of killing me.
I wished I could go back to being ignored.
“Ladies.” It was Dunraven’s voice. I craned my neck to see, and the pressure on my ankles abruptly ceased.
The professor eyed us disapprovingly. I don’t know what he thought I had to do with this, but he gave me the exact same look he gave my tormentor.
“It’s late. Best you return to your dorm rooms and get some sleep.”
Ellbereth smiled sweetly. “Yes, professor. Great idea.”
I realized I was wasting precious escape time and leaped to my feet. “Good night,” I blurted, then sprinted for my dorm room without looking back.
I expected magic to snatch my feet out from under me again at any moment, but I made it to the familiar section of wallpaper and offered my finger to the fanged ruby-red serpent. It tasted my blood, and for the first time I was glad for the layer of security. Millicent wouldn’t let Ellbereth in. Even if she disguised herself as someone else.
I shoved through the door and collapsed on the other side.
Chapter Fourteen
Bryn and Ameline had been about to come looking for me. But neither were reassured when I burst inside and slid panting to the floor.
Bryn’s expression turned ominous. Not toward me but whatever had threatened me. Ameline’s was worrie
d.
Their moods did not improve when I recounted what had happened.
Even if they’d come looking and found me, would it have done any good? My own magic was impotent against Ellbereth, and Ameline’s communication magic, for all its uses, wouldn’t have fared much better. Bryn’s fire was impressive. But could she have single-handedly gained the upper hand over a walker? Without burning them to a crisp? Or harming Millicent for that matter.
At least we knew Ellbereth wasn’t working with the teacher’s permission. Perhaps one of my friends could run to get help. If it happened again.
I had a feeling it would.
Apparently my friends believed the same. “You’re not to go anywhere alone,” Ameline ordered. “Not even to the bathroom in the middle of the night.”
Bryn smirked. “That’s right. I’d love to keep you company while you take a leak.” Her expression hardened. “That simpering snot is going to come after you again. And we’re going to make sure you’re not an easy target.”
Ameline was nodding in agreement, and I suspected dissuading them otherwise would be impossible.
I felt a pang of gratitude for that, followed by annoyance and worry. They were so concerned for my well-being they hadn’t stopped to consider their own.
I both loved and hated them for it.
“We all need to carry our weapons everywhere too,” Bryn continued. She looked at me. “Even if you have to give yours daily milk baths.”
I groaned and pushed myself off the floor. “All right, all right. But can we take Dunraven’s advice and go to bed? I’m done in.”
After a brief rundown of what had happened in my own Advanced Magic “lesson,” my friends assented to get some sleep. My brain had other ideas. I’d escaped Ellbereth’s grasp, but I found it harder to shake off her insinuations.
They aligned far too closely with my own deepest fears.
I lay in the dark, going over and over them in my mind like a wheel spinning uselessly in the mud.
What if my wildcard magic was no gift, but a result of my unprotected exposure to the circlet? What if the Malus was using me somehow?
