by Eva Chase
No one got the brew quite as right as he did. I sipped the hot liquid, letting the rich flavor and the tingle of caffeine wash through me, wishing the words I needed to say didn’t taste even more bitter.
Dad leaned back in his favorite chair, holding his mug by his chest. He studied me with his light green eyes, a small crooked smile crossing his lips.
“What’s on your mind, Declan?”
The Ashgraves, at least in recent generations, hadn’t gone in for the same scheming and dissembling that the other baronies tended toward, and my mother had chosen her partner to those tastes. Dad was the type to cut to the chase. I supposed I was best off doing the same, even on this subject.
“I need to ask you a few things about Mom,” I said. “At least one of the other barons is making claims about her—I have to know how true they are.”
Dad’s smile tightened, but he nodded. He’d never shied away from talking about my mother, even though her loss was obviously the most painful thing that had ever happened to him. I didn’t believe that he’d even dated in the seventeen years since her death, let alone considered remarrying. He’d dedicated everything to raising Noah and me the way she’d have wanted and to preserving her legacy.
But maybe some parts of that legacy weren’t the sort you’d want to preserve.
“Of course,” he said. “Go ahead.”
I took another gulp of coffee to fortify myself. “The confrontation where she died—the building she was looking at with the Bloodstones and some staff, where the joymancers found them—did she do or say anything beforehand that would make you think she might have expected a fight? Or even that she tipped the joymancers off, hoping for them to make an attack?”
I wanted him to laugh at the thought as if it couldn’t possibly be true. Instead he sighed, his forehead furrowing. “That’s quite a claim.”
“It is. You can see why I couldn’t just let it rest.”
“I can.” He contemplated his mug for a moment and then looked at me again. “Your mother didn’t share with me every decision she made on the political side of things. I offered a sounding board in certain situations, and I supported her as well as I could, but some things… she felt she had to carry those burdens herself. As I’m sure you can understand. I’ve seen you doing the same as you’ve grown into the role.”
“Yeah.” My throat tightened a little at the thought of how much I might resemble the woman I only remembered fragments of—of how different my life might have been if I’d had her to guide my growth on the way to becoming baron. “I suppose treason wouldn’t be the sort of thing she’d have wanted to discuss with you, especially when then you could be implicated.”
“Yes. If she had done something like that, I can’t say I’d have known. The blacksuits interviewed me after the attack—they didn’t ask anything that specific, just gathering information—and I told the truth when I said as far as I knew there’d been no indications of danger ahead of time. But…” His hands tensed around his mug. “I can’t say it’d completely surprise me if it were true. It’s possible. And they never could explain how the joymancers knew where to strike.”
“You really think she’d have betrayed her own community like that?”
“I think she might have seen it as saving her community,” Dad said. “You’ve seen the changes the barons are implementing now… From things she said back then, I suspect they were moving toward a similar outcome back then. And she was the only one of the five who objected. They needed her agreement, but you know that the barons will turn to questionable methods when it comes to getting their way… She was afraid for you and your brother. She was under a lot of pressure, being the lone hold-out. I could imagine that she might have thought an attack from the joymancers would redirect the pentacle’s focus for at least a little while.”
My stomach clenched. “Or cut them off at the knees completely, if it took one of the other barons out of the picture.” Which had actually happened, if not permanently.
“It could be.” A sadness came over my father’s expression like a falling shadow. “All I know for sure is she faced more and more stress the longer she was working among them, and she was trying her best to do what she thought would benefit the entire community, not just the most prominent families’ greed. Desperation can push people to making choices they wouldn’t have found palatable before.”
I sat in silence as his words sank in. If Dad didn’t know for sure, then Baron Bloodstone was probably only speculating. If there’d been clear evidence of my mother committing treason, the barons wouldn’t have hesitated to air it to diminish my own standing, back then or now. Which meant… I’d probably never know for sure whether Mom had brought about those deaths and Rory and her mother’s capture.
Was it even worse that I couldn’t say she’d definitely been wrong even if she had called in the attack? Who would Rory be now if she’d been raised by her fearmancer parents instead of by the joymancers who’d clearly cared about her and given her more strength than maybe they’d realized she’d ever need? What would my world look like if the barons had managed to bully my mother into agreeing with their plans and they’d started their campaign of openly terrorizing Naries back then?
I couldn’t say she’d made the right choice, but I could believe she hadn’t had any good ones.
“I’m sorry I can’t enlighten you any more than that,” Dad said.
I shook my head. “You know what you know. Thanks for being honest with me.”
“I try my best.” He raised his mug to his lips. “Now do I get to keep you long enough to have a meal with you?”
I’d just pulled into the university garage after a hasty but satisfying dinner when a text from Jude popped up on my phone.
Hey, Almost-Baron. If you’re around, it looks like your little bro is setting himself up for some kind of scrap. They headed over to the west field. Should I call in the cavalry?
What the hell had Noah gotten himself into now? I loped out of the garage, tapping out a response as I went. Thanks for the heads up. I should be able to handle it. Bad enough if it turned out his big brother needed to swoop in to save him—even worse if the entire pentacle of scions made an appearance. Noah would never live that down.
Only a few traces of daylight lingered in the darkening sky, and the October breeze had turned nearly frigid. I hunched the collar of my wool jacket up to my ears as I hurried across campus. The green seemed quiet enough, maybe even unusually so after the bedlam of the last few days, but I caught terse voices as I reached Nightwood Tower. I stopped there to take in the situation before intervening.
Noah was standing some thirty feet away across the field, his stance tensed, facing three other juniors I vaguely recognized in the dim light. It didn’t look as if they were doing anything other than talking so far. I stayed where I was with a murmur of a spell to carry their voices to me more clearly.
“What fucking business was it of yours anyway?” the guy in the middle of the trio was saying. “We’re allowed to do whatever we want to them. That’s what the rules say now. You can’t just make up your own, even if you’re an Ashgrave.” He gave the name a slight sneer.
“She’d had enough,” Noah said. “It wasn’t like you could scare her any more than you already had. It doesn’t help any of us to keep flinging crap at them when they’re already a sobbing mess.”
“You don’t get to decide when I’m done.”
“I get to decide whether I think you’ve messed enough with people I’ve got to share the school with. They are people, you know.”
It wasn’t hard to decipher what had gone down. The guy had been tormenting a Nary student, and Noah had stopped him. A glow of pride lit inside me even as my shoulders stiffened, waiting to see how the confrontation would play out.
“Barely,” the other guy spat out. “Maybe you just don’t like the idea that someone could build up enough power that they’d put yours to shame. Since you’re obviously too good to draw on those ‘peo
ple’ yourself.”
Noah scoffed. “I’m not worried about taking you on. Some of us remember how to keep our energy up without being totally lazy about it.”
“Maybe we should test that out. I’m all juiced up. You really want to try me?” The other guy took a menacing step forward, his shoulders flexing.
Noah raised his chin, his hands balling and then opening at his sides. “If that’s what it’ll take for you to feel better, give it your best shot.”
My body shifted instinctively, itching to stride over and interrupt the developing fight. With a clench of my jaw, I held myself in check. I had to let Noah handle his own battles unless he absolutely needed bailing out.
His opponent muttered an abrupt casting word that must have launched some sort of spell Noah’s way. My brother countered it instantly, his hand swiping through the air. The magic he sent after his defense knocked the other guy off his feet to sprawl on his ass in the grass.
The guy wasn’t deterred. If anything, he looked twice as furious as before. I braced myself, bringing a shielding spell onto my tongue, as he shoved himself upright. He whipped out his arm with a snapped word, and whatever he cast slammed into the shield Noah had conjured for himself hard enough to slice through it. Noah stumbled backward with a pained hiss of breath.
I might have jumped in then—I took a step before I’d even realized it—but Noah didn’t need me. A couple of words tumbled from his lips, and a small but brilliant light seared through the space between them. It flared in the other guy’s eyes. He clapped a hand to his face.
“I can’t fucking see. You asshole.”
He tossed another spell Noah’s way, but Noah was already circling him, and the guy had no way of aiming.
“It’s temporary,” my brother said, his tone more flat than haughty. “But you might want to get your friends to help you back to your dorm room. And maybe you should consider focusing more on honing your skills rather than sucking up all kinds of energy you can’t do much with.”
The guy swore at him a few more times and mumbled some words I suspected were attempts to bring his vision back. When they didn’t work, he waved to his friends with a jerky motion, and they stalked off toward Killbrook Hall. Noah hung back, presumably preferring to let them get a good head start so he didn’t have to deal with them any more than he already had.
When the three were out of hearing, I crossed the field to join him. Noah’s eyebrows shot up at the sight of me, and his shoulders stiffened defensively.
“I didn’t know you were there,” he said.
“I got a heads up that you might be getting into trouble.” I hesitated, looking him over. He’d actually handled himself pretty well—not revealing just how deep his sympathies for the Naries ran, holding his own but avoiding dealing more harm than was necessary to end the fight. With how gung-ho he’d been about defending me, I hadn’t been sure of his temper. Apparently he could moderate it better than I’d given him credit for.
“It looked like he got a jab in,” I added.
“A little burn.” Noah rubbed his forearm. “Not even bad enough to bother with the infirmary. I’m fine.”
He was still watching me warily, probably waiting for me to berate him for getting into the fight in the first place. The protective part of me wanted to—wanted to tell him this was exactly what I needed to keep him out of.
But I couldn’t, could I? Not if he was going to stay true to the principles that drove me too. This fight hadn’t had anything to do with me, and it’d happened anyway. And he had been fine.
Maybe I’d been looking at the situation wrong. He might have technically been safer when he’d been off in Paris, but he’d also in some ways been alone. Like our mother had been.
He was stronger with me here to turn to, to guide him. And if I gave him the chance, it could be that I’d find I was stronger with him by my side too.
“Come on,” I said, turning with a beckoning motion. “Let’s get out of the cold and discuss exactly how you’ll fit into the Guard.”
Chapter Nineteen
Rory
Whatever I might have thought in the past about Malcolm’s posturing as high lord of Blood U, he did have a way of commanding a room. The eyes of the fourteen classmates we’d assembled for the Scions’ Guard stayed trained on him as he strode from one side of the training mat to the other.
“Obviously you want to stay alert for any direct threats to whichever of us you’re supposed to be supporting,” he said, his voice as smooth and assured as always. “But we all feel it’s equally important to reduce threatening behavior across campus in general. Aggressive magic has become a lot more common since the change in policy regarding the Naries, but any of us can be caught in the crossfire when people are getting careless—and anyone who wants to target us can use the general commotion as cover to launch an attack.”
The rest of us scions were standing around the edges of the room, since Malcolm had asked to take the lead. We nodded along with that point to show we did all agree. The more support these students could see they had in pushing back against the hostility toward the Naries, the more confident they’d feel in doing it. And Malcolm clearly knew exactly the right way to present the idea so it sounded like it was for our benefit and not an attempt to undermine the barons’ plans.
“I don’t think people are going to be all that happy about us telling them to cool off,” said the guy Jude had brought in. “They’re getting off on the power.”
Malcolm made a dismissive gesture. “We’re not telling them they can’t provoke fear here and there. They’ll still be able to soak up plenty more than they used to. You’ll just be reminding them of things like… ‘Hey, a couple of the scions are nearby, and they’d appreciate being able to use the green in peace.’ Or tell them we’re watching to see who’s able to adapt to the change while still showing they’ve got self-control. You’ll have your Scions’ Guard badge to give you extra authority.”
Declan spoke up from the other side of the room with his air of calm authority. “People have understandably been excited about testing their limits since the change. We’re not saying they’re doing anything wrong, just encouraging them to settle into a more measured approach.”
“Exactly.” Malcolm rubbed his hands together. “You’re all here because we figured you could handle that. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been more embarrassed than impressed, seeing the way people have been throwing magic around and chasing after the Naries. Anyone who can’t build up their magic without acting like a lunatic doesn’t deserve it.” He paused and winked at his audience. “But you don’t need to repeat that to them if you’re afraid they’ll turn lunatic on you.”
The quiet laughter that followed sounded a little anxious, but for the most part our forming Guard looked relieved, even my former nemesis, Victory. We had chosen everyone here for a reason, and part of that reason was we didn’t think they’d been comfortable watching the chaos playing out on campus. Now the Nightwood scion had given them permission to feel that way. Some of them were already standing straighter, their chins raised, eager to take up the cause.
Inspiring our Guard wouldn’t stop the Naries from being harassed, but if we even halved the torment they were facing right now, that’d be a huge step in the right direction. And all under the guise of supporting the baronies.
Malcolm answered a few more questions as the meeting wound down. “You’ve got your schedules,” he reminded the group when it was time to wrap up. “We’ll expect to see you around.” He added a personal comment here and there with the several classmates he’d recruited, a couple of them for himself and others to support the rest of us, with a clap on one shoulder and a chuckle at someone’s comment.
Getting to take charge and make things happen lit him up too. It was hard to look away from him while he was in regal mode. The energy stayed with him even after everyone except the five of us had left.
“I’ve got a few more ideas for people we can bring in,
” he said, and pointed at Jude. “You especially need your ass covered. Your dad can forget it if he thinks he’s going to take another shot at you.”
Jude grimaced at him, but he didn’t argue. “If it pisses him off, I’m on board.”
“If you let me know the names, I’ll run them by Professor Razeden to make sure he hasn’t seen any reasons to be wary of them,” I said.
“I think I’ve got a pretty good read on them, but it can’t hurt to double check when we’re skirting this close to potential treason.” He gave me a wry smile and motioned for me to get out my phone so I could take the names down.
“It seems like you know just about everyone on campus pretty well,” I remarked as I typed them into a note. He’d greeted everyone who’d arrived by name and with a brief mention of some interest or history they shared.
“Hard to rule if you don’t know who you’re ruling over.” He arched his eyebrows at me. “I know you think I’m too hard on people sometimes, but I’m always paying attention. I put the pressure on where it’s needed and ease off when it’s deserved.”
“Like you did with me?” I couldn’t help saying, with a pinching of guilt at the way his face fell.
“You know I realize now that I went about that totally wrong,” he started, his voice dropping low and rough.
I grasped his shirt to tug him closer. “I do. You’ve proven that. I’m just never going to completely forget it, you know.”
“Believe me, neither will I.”
His regret came through so clearly that I had to change the course of the conversation. I peeked up at him through my eyelashes. “I have to say that when you’re not caught up in some grudge, I do enjoy watching you take charge.”
His smile came back, a hint of a smolder lighting in his dark brown eyes. He stepped even closer, his head bowing toward mine. “Any time you want to do more than watch, I’m all yours.”
