by Marisa Mills
Before I could answer, Viviane entered the library and stormed over to me. I tensed, unsure what she wanted. She looked fleetingly at Amelia’s portrait, half-hidden behind my chair. I thought briefly she might ask me to apologize for knocking her grandmother’s portrait off the wall, but instead, Viviane sat in the chair beside me. Her hands curled over the armrests, her nails digging into the brocade fabric.
“So how did you really do it?” she asked quietly.
“Do what?”
Her head snapped towards me. “Survive,” she said. “I know there’s no way you could’ve. Everyone is saying it’s Alexander, but that’s not it. He’s said as much.”
Everyone thinks it’s Alexander? Lucian asked.
“We both fell unconscious,” I said. “I don’t know what happened.”
Viviane’s green eyes hardened. “You’re hiding something. Don’t forget, I know your secret.” She leaned towards me and whispered. “So how does a thief from the Lower Realms manage to somehow fall from Reverie without getting hurt. It doesn’t add up.”
I sighed and closed my book. I’d been stuck on the same page for a half hour anyway, it was unlikely I’d get any studying done today.
“I don’t know what you expect from me,” I said. “And it wasn’t like I’d planned to fall.”
I let the subtle implication hang between us and saw Viviane blanch.
“Maybe the more important question,” I said, “and what we really need to be focused on, is who is bestowing students with magic far beyond their control, and why.”
Viviane had managed invisibility, and nearly torn apart the Academy with giant crystals, using some form of blood magic. But where was she getting the information from, and how could someone be controlling her with sigils? Whoever it was, they must have had access to her. So it must be someone close.
“Whatever,” she huffed. “I don’t know what really happened with you and Alexander down there, or why you felt you had to spend the night in the Lower Realms, but it’s over now. Just remember our little agreement. Elean—my mother has told you, too. Stay away from Alexander, or I’ll tell him everything.”
I laughed, which was probably the wrong move. Viviane looked livid.
“You mean he didn’t tell you? Alexander already knows I’m from the Scraps. But you’ve got nothing to worry about. Any interest he has in me is purely intellectual.”
Because I can speak to demons. But Viviane didn’t know that part yet. I needed to start making notes of the lies I was telling.
Viviane’s jaw clenched.
“And besides,” I said. “Do you really think I could manage to deceive Alexander enough to—what? Court me? Marry me? We would never work, Viviane. Even if I wanted us to.”
The statement made my stomach twist uncomfortably, probably because I knew it was true. Alexander had been keeping me at arm’s length since we returned. He was probably disgusted by me, and even if we’d shifted into an uneasy alliance, for now, I’d never be able to really trust him. Talking with demons was bad enough, but actually freeing one – I’m pretty sure that was a capital offense. Alexander warned me once I could be executed as a traitor for fraternizing with demons. After all, whoever was responsible for the attacks was also freeing demons, and I’d basically done the same thing. Alexander knew it wasn’t me, but he’d always have the ammunition to destroy me if he wanted to.
Viviane tipped her head back against the chair. “That’s right,” she said, her voice strained. “It wouldn’t work. You’re just some—some stray Dorian took in. Not even took in. Hired. That’s all.”
Someone is insecure… Lucian muttered. Does she seem worse than usual to you?
I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I kept quiet and her anger seemed to abate. Instead of leaving, she settled in next to me and opened a book. I glanced over at her. Viviane was beautiful, with perfectly coiled dark hair, porcelain skin and large green eyes that glittered as she read. Even her fingers were perfectly manicured, her nails ending in slim pink tips. And she was nobility, from one of Reverie’s oldest families. How was this girl threatened by me?
I knew her mother pushed her hard, however, and she drank energy potions to keep up. Underneath her careful façade, she was probably stressed out and sleep deprived. The inside of her arm was healing, but still red and bumpy from the sigils, and the large dark slash where I’d stabbed her with my sword.
“I’m glad you’re all right,” I said softly, “Even if you hate me.”
Viviane sighed. “Well, I suppose I’m glad you survived as well. I’d have felt guilty about killing you.”
Coming from her, that’s quite an admission, Lucian said.
We read in silence for a few minutes, until I saw Frederick outside the large glass doors of the library, speaking with someone I couldn’t see. He didn’t come into the library. He must’ve missed us.
“Your father is here,” I said.
Viviane groaned. “I know. Bothering everyone with questions. I wish he’d leave.”
“Why?” I asked. “Isn’t he investigating all this?”
Viviane rolled her eyes. “Investigating between trips to visit brothels, probably,” she said.
I stared at her, unsure where this venom towards her family had come from. I was certain it hadn’t always been there, and Frederick seemed so friendly when I met him earlier.
“And your mother?” I asked hesitantly.
“Probably working with Celeste to get me interested in sigils again,” Viviane replied. “Not that you care, but my family is a den of vipers.”
“I’m…sure they’re just all worried about you,” I said.
Viviane shook her head. “Don’t pretend to understand, Wynter.”
“I’m not pretending,” I said softly. “For what it’s worth, I—I really do think you and Alexander would be good together.”
I didn’t quite believe it, and I felt a bit bad for lying. But I also felt like Viviane needed some encouragement. She’d been awful to me from the start, but it was clear there was some kind of drama going on. I wondered what other secrets the Rosewood family was hiding.
“We will be,” Viviane said. “We have to be.”
After that, we lapsed into silence with the collapsed portrait of Amelia behind us. I resumed reading for Gareth’s class.
The book in my lap was a heavy leather volume, with an embossed spine. It was about types of magic that deviated from the four traditional elements—fire, water, wind, and earth. The section I was reading theorized a type of magic that existed as the opposite to healing magic.
There is a type of magic that we might call decay, a type of magic which may be used to age and wither the natural world around us. Although we’ve only seen such a magic referenced in older manuscripts and have no contemporary records of this power’s existence, scholars have determined that this power is plausible.
I finished the chapter and closed the book. When I looked beside me, Viviane had fallen asleep. I felt a swell of sympathy as I took in her still-bruised face. Maybe I ought to visit Dorian and insist he check on her. That seemed really intrusive, but Viviane looked like she could use some attention. Or maybe I should talk to Frederick.
Don’t get involved, Lucian said. You have your own problems.
Right. Like trying to avoid being caught. Like pleasing Dorian, so he’d keep his word.
Besides, Lucian said, Viviane wouldn’t have given you such consideration.
No, she wouldn’t have, but that didn’t make it right. With a sigh, I left the library, careful not to disturb Viviane. She needed as much rest as she could get. It was time for dinner, but I wasn’t really hungry, so I decided to steal some food for Briar and Sterling. When I was in Reverie before, we’d had a pattern; I would always drop on the weekend. But with the situation worse than ever in the Scraps, it wouldn’t hurt to start early. I could make the drop and return to the Academy before it even got dark.
I piled
a plate high with fruits and breads. When I first began doing this, I’d always offered an excuse to the kitchen staff. But now, I felt a little less awkward, and there was plenty of food in the Academy. After gathering it up, I took the food to the dormitories, and seeing no one about, I wrapped it all in a purple, silk dress. The fabric looked expensive. It was pretty, and I almost regretted that I’d never had a chance to wear it. But Briar or Sterling could take the food and sell the dress. I stuffed everything into my bag, then I slipped through the Academy and out into the streets of the Reverie.
By now, I knew precisely where to drop the food, and even better, I knew that Sterling had actually gotten it. I wondered if I might be able to smuggle down medicine to Sterling’s mom sometime. I wouldn’t even know where to begin with medicine, though. Maybe I’d ask Dorian about it later; Reverie must have excellent pharmacies, but I doubt the mages ever got something so common as whatever had been plaguing Claribel. As I headed towards the edge, I followed along the same path that Gareth sometimes walked along with his mysterious consort. I still didn’t know who Elaine was, but she was beautiful and had the sweetest, gentlest voice I’d ever heard.
Once I reached the edge, I dropped the food down, shoving it between the intricate swirls of metalwork that made up the perimeter fence of the floating city. When I peered over the edge, I shuddered at the height, and panic crawled its way up my throat. Suddenly, I felt a wave of vertigo, as though I was falling through the clouds again. My hands curled around the fence, and I squeezed my eyes tightly closed.
Relax, Lucian murmured. Even if you fell, I’d save you.
I pressed my head against the cold metal and sucked in deep breaths of air. I thought of Guinevere with her bright eyes and warm smile, and I imagined her flinging herself from Reverie. My stomach lurched, and bile filled my mouth. How did Dorian manage to live so close to the edge, knowing his sister died that way?
My mind whirled with all the little stories I’d heard since arriving in Reverie about the noblewoman who fell in love with a man from the Lower Realms. In Viviane’s version, the man cut her into pieces, sprinkling her off the edge like confetti, before hurling himself off the edge as well.
“Do you think those stories are about Nick and Guinevere, Lucian?” I asked.
I don’t imagine a romance like that happened often, considering the way most of these mages seem to feel about the Lower Realms, Lucian murmured.
Dorian said Guinevere had killed herself, though Elaine seemed to think something else had happened to her. I couldn’t imagine the man I’d seen in the meadow hurting Guinevere. He’d looked so deeply in love. I wondered if anyone would ever look at me like that. My mind flitted to Alexander, but I brushed the image away. I tore myself away from the fence and headed to the Rosewood estate. It wasn’t far, just a couple of streets away.
I allowed myself to imagine what my life might have been like if I’d been hired by Eleanor instead of Dorian. At least, Eleanor never—
Pushed anyone down the stairs? Lucian asked.
“We don’t know what really happened,” I said.
I paused outside the Rosewood estate, studying the mansion from a distance. I wasn’t going to see Dorian. I just wanted to look at the place where Guinevere had grown up. I peered through the tall, silver fence. Like the fence around Reverie, this one featured elegant metalwork, patterned in swirls, but this fence had red crystals set between the folds of metal like tiny rosebuds. Beyond that, there were gardens and trees. Optimistic blooms, tempted out by the warm weather, spotted the estate. I hoped they’d last until spring, and that I’d still be here to see them. Beyond them, the brick building climbed into the sky, in a series of arches and delicate carvings. It looked like the sort of place where benevolent fairies would live.
And instead, you have the murderous count, Lucian said, and his strange apothecary. I’ll bet she poisons people for him.
“I thought Francisca was hoping to be Countess Rosewood.”
Maybe they’re courting one another.
I wondered what kind of child Guinevere had been and how she’d grown up. She must have really loved Nick to have pursued him despite Amelia’s protests.
“What do you think really happened to them?” I asked.
Lucian sighed. I don’t know any more than you.
“I know. But what does your intuition say?”
I’m sure if the mages had known what she and Nick were doing, Lucian offered, they wouldn’t have been pleased. Maybe someone killed them both.
I sucked in a sharp breath. They were stealing, and freeing demons. Had someone really killed them for it? I’d basically done the same thing with Lucian. Did that mean someone would come after me?
I shivered, suddenly feeling exposed, and walked quickly back to the Academy. Here I was, more or less the same age as Guinevere had been when she died, with a freed demon hiding in my shadow. Guinevere’s death was supposed to have been a suicide, but what if it were murder? And would I become the next target?
***
When I woke the next morning, Viviane was gone. I hadn’t remembered her being in bed the night before either. If it wasn’t for the empty potion bottle left on her bed, I would’ve thought she’d never gone to bed at all. As I pulled on my trousers and blouse, I glanced at Jessa, who was carefully brushing blush over her cheekbones with one hand and holding a hand mirror with the other.
“What are Viviane’s potions?” I asked.
Jessa furrowed her brow. “They…help you perform magic, but you have to be careful with them,” she said. “You can become addicted to them if you drink them too often.”
Was Viviane drinking them too often? She seemed to always have one. I picked up the empty glass vial and sniffed at it cautiously.
“I’ve tried warning Viviane,” Jessa said, lowering her mirror. “Lady Eleanor buys them for her, so…”
“I think Eleanor pushes her too hard.”
“I do, too,” Jessa said, sighing, “But you can’t tell Viviane that. She never listens.”
I felt myself soften. Viviane hadn’t always been nice to Jessa either, and despite that, Jessa continued to be concerned about her. I had a wild impulse to tell Jessa everything. Maybe she would understand. She was a stranger to Reverie, like me, though her family were wealthy mages from Aubade.
“Thank you for being my friend,” I said instead.
Jessa hugged me, and I inhaled the sweet, floral scent of her perfume. “Thank you for being mine,” she said. “I was so heartbroken when I thought you died, Wynter.”
The school’s clock chimed, announcing the hour. Jessa pulled away and smiled. “I have to go,” she said. “Unfortunately, I can’t learn plant magic through photosynthesis.”
Was that a plant joke? Lucian asked.
“I have swordplay, anyway,” I said, adjusting my swordbelt over my waist. Most girls wore dresses or skirts, even while fencing, but Delacroix always wore black leather pants so I figured I could as well, at least for the morning. I’d have to change before dance class.
Jessa and I parted. She went downstairs, and I went outside. Delacroix’s swordsmanship class was held in the fields behind the Academy. I wasn’t the best swordsman, but evidently, I’d been good enough to pass. And this was something I could do with Lucian, so I was actually looking forward to her class. When I arrived at the fields, my classmates were clustered around, deep in conversation.
“I’m telling you,” a girl said, “she’s weird. I see her talking to herself all the time.”
As the girl spoke, she tilted her head back and caught sight of me. She dropped her voice to a whisper, leaning her head in closer to the two people she was speaking with. One was Dahlia, who shared the same dormitory with me. The other was a boy I didn’t recognize. I awkwardly stood a few yards away from them. A shadow moved across the grass, Lucian. I froze.
Finally, one of them—the boy I’d never spoken to—waved at me.
“A
ren’t you that girl Alexander saved from falling?” he asked.
“We don’t know if that’s what happened,” I said.
“But you couldn’t have done it,” Dahlia cut in. “You’re terrible with sigils. Everyone knows it.”
“I’ve gotten better,” I said.
“But not that much better. Anti-gravitational sigils are tricky for even experienced mages. And to perform a spell that intricate while falling from Reverie?” Dahlia asked. “That’s—”
The boy jumped and yelled in surprise. He spun around and drew his sword.
“What happened?” Dahlia asked.
“Something bit me! I think it was a snake!”
“Lucian,” I whispered. “Stop that!”
I’ll stop when they give me the credit I deserve. I can’t believe everyone wants to give all the credit to that foolish princeling!
“And would you like one of the professors to trap you in a gemstone, Lucian?” I murmured.
No, but I’m tired of them all acting so self-righteous about themselves.
“Lucian, please,” I whispered.
And here he is now, Lucian sneered. The young hero himself.
“It isn’t his fault.”
I caught Dahlia’s nervous glance and followed her eyes.
Alexander was in conversation with Professor Delacroix. Her tall figure made her easy to recognize on campus, she was taller than most of her male colleagues even, with short, dark hair and sharp brown eyes. Delacroix greeted me with a curt nod. “Good to see you again,” she said.
And that was it. She wasn’t much for small talk.
“Pair up!” she announced.
Alexander immediately stepped closer to me.
“Shall we?” he asked, with a hard grin. I couldn’t read his expression, and I didn’t like that. I bit my lip and wondered what he was thinking about.
“We’ll start with a warmup match,” Delacroix said. “First to disarm wins. Begin!”
I moved into a fighting stance, just as I’d been taught, and waited. Alexander struck sharply and quickly. I parried. We traded thrusts, but I knew I was doomed to lose. Alexander had been trained in swordplay since his childhood, and I had only a semester’s worth of experience. I’d fought Alexander before, and lost. But I’d also had some private training since then, with Lucian in his dreamworld.
