by Eva Chase
That might have been true at first, but she didn’t really have a clue how far my skills had developed. We hadn’t had a real stand-off. That would probably happen eventually, the way she kept pushing. I’d be happy to surprise her when push came to shove.
Today, I just walked out of the dorm. I’d already eaten one of the muffins I’d been keeping in my bedroom away from anyone’s spoiling spells, so at least I didn’t have to worry about breakfast. Someone, maybe Cressida, snickered as I stepped out.
Had my refusal to fight looked weak? I couldn’t find it in me to care about my social status when people were getting kicked out of school or possibly dying here.
I made it down to the first floor before it occurred to me that I didn’t really know where I was going. I didn’t have any classes until late in the afternoon. The sight of the library’s vast bookshelves just made me feel more hopeless. Nothing I’d found in there had let me help anyone I’d wanted to save.
I wavered in the hall as a few students wandered by, debating my options. Then a familiar lanky figure emerged from the stairwell.
A grin stretched across Jude’s face when he saw me. It was hard to remember, seeing the genuine pleasure in his expression, that there’d been a while when every smile he’d aimed my way had been sharp, mocking, or both.
I wasn’t sure which was stranger: that or the answering warmth that lit up in me as he walked over.
His appreciation wasn’t enough to wipe away my sense of futility, though. His grin faded as he took in my face. He slipped his hand around mine as easily as if we’d been holding hands from the start rather than barely having touched until a short while ago. “What’s wrong?”
“What isn’t might be an easier question to answer.” I let out a strained chuckle. “I’m just… tired.” Tired of this place. Tired of having to keep a strong front while the weight of all the things I had to grieve or worry about piled higher. I missed my parents, missed my real home, with an ache that radiated through my chest.
Jude cocked his head. “Are you up for a drive? I had something special planned for our last outing—since obviously you hardly require my instruction anymore.”
“Until we switch to piano,” I said.
Jude’s fingers tightened for a second, and I remembered how startled, almost nervous, he’d looked when I’d walked in on him that night. For whatever reason, he kept his hobby secret.
I made a gesture as if zipping my lips. “Sorry. I think I could drive. Where are we going?” Jude had proven himself good at coming up with excellent distractions so far.
His grin came back. “My secret. I promise it’s good enough to take your mind off just about anything.”
He swung our hands together casually as we walked out to the garage. A few of the students we went by watched us for a little longer than just a passing glance, but Jude didn’t show any sign of caring. I guessed he’d already made a big enough statement about where he stood when it came to me.
When we reached my car, he stopped and tugged me a little closer. My head came up automatically to meet his kiss—our first kiss since the ones in the piano room.
The heat of his mouth lit me up like a torch, but what really gripped my heart was the gentleness of the gesture, as if he felt he had to leave plenty of room for me to pull away in case I’d changed my mind about the whole kissing thing.
Whatever was forming between us felt as fragile to him as it did to me. It mattered to him to be careful with it. Somehow that reassured me in a way nothing he said could.
He drew back with a satisfied hum. “I could do that all day, but I did promise you we’d take this car somewhere beyond the garage.”
“I’m expecting big things from this secret surprise,” I said as I opened the driver’s side door. “It’d better deliver after all this build-up.”
He sprawled in the seat beside me. “What horrors should I expect if it doesn’t?”
I arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m sure I could think of a few ways to express my disappointment.”
He laughed. “Will I be frozen from head to toe this time, Ice Queen? I’m not worried. I keep my promises.”
My pulse no longer sped up with anxiety when I eased the car out of its stall and drove out to the road into town. The motions were becoming automatic, the thrum of the engine more comforting than unnerving. The thought of driving somewhere completely on my own still made me a little uneasy, but maybe I’d start slow like I had with my drives with Jude. I could buy a lot more groceries at a time if I took the car into town.
The day was warm enough that we rolled down the windows. Jude leaned his arm partway out, the wind tussling his hair. “Do you want to tell me about any of the many things that are bothering you?”
He said it lightly but with enough gravity to make it clear he was asking honestly. I glanced over at him for a second as the shadows of the trees at the side of the road rippled over the car.
There was something different in his tone and in the general energy he gave off today. He’d pretty much always kept up a breezy, don’t-give-a-shit demeanor when I was around, other than during the picnic when our conversation had turned briefly serious, but now… now he looked actually relaxed, in a way I hadn’t realized that he wasn’t before because I hadn’t had the real thing to compare to. As if he didn’t feel the need to keep up his usual frenetic pace and jokey attitude with me anymore.
My mind leapt back to that evening interlude in the piano room again—to the way he’d fallen so quickly into banter, the raw emotion I’d glimpsed vanishing beneath it as soon as he’d recovered from his surprise. If that wasn’t how he acted when he was actually comfortable… how much of the joking and mockery was for his enjoyment and how much just a different sort of shield?
I didn’t want to talk to him about Shelby. If I heard him call her a “feeb,” I really might slam him with ice. His dismissive attitude about Naries was something we’d have to talk about eventually if this was going to become more than a little kissing here and there, but I wasn’t in the mood to hash it out right now.
I could mention a different worry, though. “My mentor—Professor Banefield—has been really sick for a while now. No one seems to know exactly what’s wrong, and I haven’t been able to see him… He doesn’t seem to be getting better.”
Jude’s forehead furrowed. “It’s not often one of the professors is laid up for very long. Is there something you need to see him about?”
I also wasn’t ready to tell him about my near-certainty that Banefield’s sickness was part of some conspiracy against me. I shrugged. “I’m just worried about him. I was there when he first got sick. Maybe it’s silly, but I feel like if I could talk with him, see how he’s doing now, maybe I could help figure out what’s going on.”
“That sounds like the sort of thing you would think.” Jude gave me a crooked smile. “But you’re not thinking enough like a fearmancer. Someone told you you’re not allowed to visit him? Who the fuck cares? If you can magic your way in without anyone realizing, that’s your permission right there.”
Oh. I… really hadn’t thought about it that way, but he was completely right. That was how any other fearmancer would have looked at the situation. Rules didn’t matter, only whether you could slip around them effectively.
“Those seem like extreme measures to take when I’m not sure what I’d be looking for… but we’ll see,” I said.
“Feel free to call on me if you need back-up,” Jude said. “I do enjoy a good scheme.”
We drove down the highway that we’d taken to our picnic spot until we’d gone about a half hour beyond that dirt track, and then took a turn to head farther south. Jude scanned the farms, forestland, and towns we passed rather than the street signs, as if watching for landmarks.
“Take a right here,” he said after we passed a highway restaurant-slash-antiques shop. Five minutes later, he sent me left down a narrow but neatly bordered road through the thicker forest.
The road wi
dened where it came to a wrought-iron gate in a high brick wall, the bars so close together I couldn’t make out much other than a blur of green and brown on the other side. I eased us to a stop.
“Is this your family’s place?” I said warily. The wall and the gate gave me the same vibe as the main buildings at the university—fearmancer tastes in architecture. Did Jude figure he was going to impress me showing me around whatever grand home his family owned? I didn’t think I was ready for the meet-the-parents step.
Jude chuckled. “No, this is your place.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rory
I blinked at Jude, thinking I’d misheard him. “My place?”
“The Bloodstones own about twenty-five acres here,” he said, getting out of the car. “All behind that damned wall. Your parents didn’t usually take visitors here—no one I’ve talked to has ever been on the property. The guys and I have always been curious what’s in there. I mean, you’ve got a big foreboding stone mansion that was the main residence too, but we all have one of those.”
I stepped out after him. “Is this trip for my benefit or for yours, then?” I teased, but my heart had skipped a beat with excitement along with my nerves. My first glimpse of the properties I’d inherited. The whole reason I’d wanted to drive in the first place. I didn’t know how much poking around I’d be comfortable doing with Jude around, but still… Whether I liked the heritage I’d stumbled into or not, whatever lay beyond that wall was mine.
“Oh, I’ll freely admit I’m looking forward to this as much as I hope you are.” Jude’s eyes glinted with anticipation. “If you touch the panel at the right side of the gate there, it should be spelled to open for any Bloodstone.”
I walked up to it and set my hand on the warm metal. It tingled beneath my palm, and a lock thudded over somewhere I couldn’t see. The gate swung open ahead of us. I found myself holding my breath as I entered.
The paved road narrowed again on the other side of the gate, leading to a wooden garage building that stood next to what by fearmancer standards must have amounted to a cottage, even though it was three times as big as my parents’ place back in California. The whole thing was dark fine-grained wood: two sprawling stories beneath a tented roof with a gleaming weathervane spire shaped like a rearing horse and a broad deck stretching around the two sides that I could see.
The yard sloped down toward a glittering pond with a beach of what looked like crushed quartz directly in front of the house. Closer to us stood a prickly looking hedge with an arched doorway that had been coaxed out of the brambles. The whole property looked perfectly maintained, as if the owners had only just stepped out for the day.
“Will there be anyone else around?” I said with sudden apprehension. “Ms. Grimsworth said there were people looking after the properties… and I guess there’s my grandparents.”
Jude shook his head. “I asked around. No one due today. And any grandparents of yours still around don’t have any claim on this place. Bloodstones only.”
“Not much respect for in-laws, I guess?”
“Not when it comes to baron holdings. And especially not when they make asses of themselves.” He shot me a sideways glance. “I don’t know how much you’ve heard about your dad’s parents, but I’ve heard my dad and grandfather complain about them. Apparently from the moment your mom took up with your dad, they’ve been pushing in, grasping at every bit of prestige they could reach for.”
Lovely. “I’m glad I told Ms. Grimsworth I wasn’t interested in a family visit, then.”
“A smart move, I’d say. Now let’s check this place out.” Jude started toward the hedge with a clap of his hands. “Is this what I think... Hell yes.” He spun around by the arched entrance, grinning. “You’ve got yourself a puzzle garden.”
“Am I supposed to know what that is?” I ventured closer and made out another hedge beyond the first forming some kind of passage. Like a maze?
“There aren’t many of them built because it takes a lot of magic.” Jude peered inside. “Apparently there’s a huge one just outside London. It’s the same idea as a puzzle box, except expanded into an entire garden… They’re works of art, really. You make your way between the hedges, and you’ll come to doors and gates you can only open if you figure out the trick to the magic. Usually they’re made with funnel shapes and conducting pieces.”
He’d had me at “work of art.” I still couldn’t totally picture what he meant, but that just meant I had to see it with my own eyes. “Let’s take a look at it then.”
Just inside the archway, twinkling gravel like the quartz down by the pond rasped under my shoes. The hedge passage branched in two directions. Several feet to our left, the way was blocked by a wall of brightly blooming flowers that gave off a pungent fruity scent. To our right, strands of silver and bronze appeared to be woven into a barrier of hedge brambles, forming an intricate latticework between the dark green leaves.
“Petals or metal?” Jude said.
The metalwork had stirred the artist in me. I wanted to get a closer look just to see how the pieces had been fit together. “Metal,” I said, walking over.
Up close, the pattern became clearer. The strands of metal formed a sort of flower themselves, with expanding rings of interlocking petals around a circular center. Silver and bronze wove together to form that center, holding a shape like a closed keyhole in the very middle.
I touched the smooth surface like I had the lock on the front gate, but the barrier didn’t budge.
“It’s going to take more than that to get through.” Jude leaned forward to consider the piece. “The idea of these gardens is to keep your skills honed—and take a measure of your friends, if you let them at it. There’s a trick to each of the puzzles: something you have to nudge with one of your skills. If you choose the wrong one or aim it wrong, the funnels and conductors will throw it right back at you with a zap.”
“Funnels and conductors?”
He motioned to the pieces that fit together to form the flower’s center. “Certain physical forms can work with magic to direct it, focus it, amplify it, without having any magic imbued in them at all. Some you’ll learn to recognize because they’re used often enough, but even if you meet an unfamiliar one, you can usually get a sense by carefully feeling it out… This bit here is going to concentrate any energy you send along it toward the narrow end, for example.”
The part he was pointing at had a ridged hollow in its curved silver body, wider at one end than the other. I bent down to study it. The narrow end led to a gold piece that was dotted with little craters.
The magic at the base of my throat tingled. I could picture how energy might flow through one part and then disperse in a dozen directions as it hit those marks.
But maybe the “funnel” could direct a spell toward just one crater, and it would bounce the magic somewhere useful? I touched the pock-marked piece, and it turned at the press of my fingers. A little gap formed between it and another gold piece above it, revealing a small channel carved there. The arc of that piece carried it around to the keyhole spot.
“How do I know what kind of spell to cast?” I asked.
“I think there should be clues in the design—or sometimes the puzzle will make it obvious. I’ve never actually been in one of these before, only heard about them.” He cocked his head. “Flowers are usually a symbol of persuasion. Do you want me to give it a shot so I’ll take the zap if I’m wrong?”
“No, I’ll try it.” A weird sense of possessiveness had come over me. It was my garden, my puzzle. I adjusted the first gold piece until I was satisfied with the angle, and then I murmured a spell into the silver funnel. “Open.”
The energy leapt from my tongue, and the metal pieces shone. The cratered bit shivered. Then the plate covering the keyhole snapped up, and all the metal strands pulled apart to form an opening we could walk through.
“Never mind. You’ve clearly got this all in hand.” Delight lit Jude’s face as h
e followed me into the hedge passage beyond.
He caught me by the waist from behind and pressed a kiss to the crook of my neck. My body lit up in turn. I lifted my head to catch his lips, and he spun me to face him so he could deepen the kiss.
Standing there with his arms around me, a prickle of guilt wound through my gut. Just last night I’d stood almost this close to Declan—I’d wanted to kiss him almost as badly as I wanted to keep kissing Jude right now. Nothing could happen between Declan and me, but still…
I drew back just a few inches. “Jude,” I said, “what are we doing here?”
He gave my forehead a quick peck with a smile. “I think the idea was taking your mind off your troubles.”
“No, I mean everything we’re doing. What are you looking for out of this? I know—I know how the inheritances work. That if we were going to be together, really together, long-term, you’d be giving up the barony.”
His mouth trailed down to brush my cheek. “What’s the need to think about that just yet? I’m nineteen. You don’t have to worry about me proposing after a couple of dates. Right now, this is just… getting to know each other.”
I swallowed hard. It was difficult to think clearly with him so close, the smell of him filling my lungs with a spicy zing like pepper and coriander. “But, if it’s never going to be possible, what’s the point of heading down that road?”
“Who said it’s impossible? There are options, if that’s where we end up.” He pulled back for a second, his expression puzzled. “Are you asking me to make that kind of commitment right now?”
My face flushed. “No. I’m nowhere near ready for that either. I just—I guess I’m trying to figure out how seriously we’re taking this. If it’s just having fun together knowing it won’t go anywhere—whether we’re making any commitment at all… Are we dating? Is that what you’re looking for? You mentioned other girls…”
