I frowned. “Then you should understand.”
“But I set those usual feelings aside, Bryn. For you. For whatever reason, I want to be close to you.”
Oh.
He seemed to realize what he’d said because he waved his hands frantically. “As friends, Bryn. I mean that I want to have you as a real friend.”
I laughed, despite the tension. “It’s okay, Boy Wonder. I wasn’t going to start carving our initials in trees in the academy forest.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “How are you feeling? I’ve been wanting to come and see you.”
“What stopped you? I feel like a leper.”
“I wasn’t sure what your mindset was,” Robin said.
“It would have been a lot better to know that I still had at least one real friend left.” I tried not to sound too bitter.
“I haven’t seen your roommates,” he said. “They haven’t been to see you?”
I shook my head. “Hazel said to give everyone time to process. I get that it’s a big deal, I really do. I just wish…” I flopped into the bed. “I wish they’d remember that I’m the same person. Who cares if I’m a blood bender or whatever?”
The hint of a smile appeared on Robin’s face. “What you did in the dining hall was pretty spectacular. I still hear everyone talking about it.”
“Because they’re scared to death of me?”
He joined me on the edge of the bed. “Because they’re in awe. We have trainees about to pass exams and become agents, and they could never do anything close to what you did with those serpopards.”
“They were freaky creatures, weren’t they?”
“I’m still trying to figure out where they came from,” Robin said, dragging a hand through his hair. “I thought they were extinct.”
“If I tell you a secret, can we be friends again?” I sat cross-legged beside him.
Robin smiled. “Is this you proving you trust me?”
“I guess so.” I drew a deep breath. “They were looking for me.” I told him the whole story of Anton Harrington.
“You have your father’s healing stone,” Robin repeated. “With his blood in it.”
“Keep the stone on the down low,” I said. “I don’t want anyone to come looking for it. His blood could be dangerous in the wrong hands.”
“Quite right.” He rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. “You constantly surprise me, Bryn. And where’s the book now?”
“Anton has it,” I said. “He was selling it in his next auction, whenever that is. I don’t plan to attend another one.”
“I don’t know, Bryn,” Robin said. “A vampire like Anton Harrington could prove a valuable asset one day. Look at Gray Mappleworth. I never thought my dealings with him would come in as handy as they have.”
At the mention of Gray, I flinched, a reaction that didn’t escape Robin’s notice.
“Does he know?”
“He does.”
“I thought so,” Robin said. “Information is his currency.”
“He came to see me here, just to confirm whether the story was true. Then he left.” I hesitated. “Do you think he hates me?”
“Hate you? Because of your father?” Robin looked at me aghast. “Bryn, those who know you aren’t upset because of your DNA. We’re upset because you lied to us. A lie by omission is just the same as any other. You didn’t trust us enough to confide your most important secret. Surely, you can understand that.”
“And, surely, you can understand why I chose to keep the information secret,” I said.
Reluctantly, he nodded. “There’s no need to worry about our friendship, Bryn. As far as I’m concerned, you and I are on the same page.”
I was so relieved, I nearly burst into tears. “What about my roommates? Do you think I have a chance to repair the damage?”
He shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out.”
It was just my luck that my return to classes coincided with weapons training. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of reentering Spellslingers society surrounded by blades and blunt instruments.
Finn Horton growled at me as he passed by. I couldn’t tell whether the Master at Arms disapproved of my grip on the staff or my recent revelation. Probably both. I’d have to start carrying the chancellor’s edict in my cloak pocket and waving it around as a reminder.
“Form two lines,” he called. “If your last name begins with A through L, go to my right. M through Z, go to my left. First one in each line will face off against each other with whatever weapon you’re holding.”
I dreaded weapons class even before now. As much as I avoided using magic, I was equally uncomfortable wielding any object that could maim or kill. Of course, the odds were good that my opponent would be more competent than me anyway. If anyone was getting maimed or killed in this situation, it would be me.
I barely registered the sound of weapons clashing as my classmates took their turns. I stood behind Justin Holloway, still gripping my wooden staff, and hoped that my opponent didn’t have a sword. Horton didn’t believe in putting us on equal footing. His position was that you didn’t get to choose your opponent’s weapon in the field, so you didn’t get to choose now. It was logical, albeit frightening.
I was so intent on watching Justin pummel Eric Santini with a club that I failed to notice the next student in line behind Eric. Horton called time on Justin’s one-sided beatdown before it got out of hand and called forth the next two participants. I took a step forward and locked eyes with Dani. Although my former roommate showed no outward signs of awkwardness, I sensed her displeasure at facing off with me. I wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to whack my good friend with a staff.
“Master Horton,” Eric said, still red-faced from the strain of his match. “Maybe it’s best not to have Morrow compete. What if Degraff slices her with that sword and she bleeds her dark magic all over us?”
“I’ll take it under advisement,” Horton said, in a tone that suggested he would do no such thing.
Before Dani and I had a chance to face off, Professor Langley approached the class, looking more bitter and irritable than usual. “A word, Horton, if you don’t mind.”
“Stefan?” The Master at Arms seemed surprised to be interrupted. He trotted over to the curmudgeonly professor and listened intently. “No problem. I’ll do it right now.” The werewolf spun around and whistled for our attention. “Professor Langley needs to address you. Listen quietly, or you’ll be here after class.”
Professor Langley moved closer to the group. “It seems Miss Butters has gone missing from her cage. I know that pranks happen on occasion, as Mr. Fonthill has persistently reminded me, but I urge anyone with information regarding her whereabouts to divulge what you know immediately.”
“Miss Butters? The chicken?” Justin whispered to anyone within earshot. “Who cares about a piece of poultry?”
Professor Langley rounded on Justin. “I care, Mr. Holloway. I have no interest in whether you think I should be concerned. The only thing you should care about is that I am. Miss Butters is an integral part of my curriculum, and I insist on her safe return.”
The angry professor turned on his heel and stalked off.
“Can chickens be familiars, by any chance?” Milo asked, now that the professor was gone.
“I don’t see why not,” Cerys said. “Bryn has an owl.”
“That’s because she’s weird,” someone else said. I couldn’t pinpoint the voice, nor did I want to.
“No way is his familiar a chicken,” Keira said. “I’ve seen him chow down on chicken stew in the dining hall.”
Horton seemed annoyed by the discussion. “It doesn’t matter whether Miss Butters speaks to him or not. What matters is getting the chicken back. I don’t care what the reason is—prank, revenge, ritual sacrifice. Trust me, however great the power might be from sacrificing Miss Butters isn’t worth Langley’s ire. If you know where this chicken is, make sure she finds her way back to her owner. Pron
to.” Horton managed a grin. “I’ve known Langley a long time. If he ain’t happy, ain’t nobody at Spellslingers happy.”
“What about the rest of the lesson?” Justin asked.
Horton scratched his beard. “The lesson now is to figure out how to do a locator spell on this chicken. I’m not about to listen to Langley moan and groan ad nauseum.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I hurried away before my roommates could reject me in front of the whole class. Any overtures I made would happen in private.
As I walked back to the main building, something the Master at Arms said gnawed at me. I replayed the words over and over in my mind. Prank. Revenge.
Then it hit me.
Ritual sacrifice.
For power.
Perun, the Slavic god we’d met at the fizzleberry bogs, had also mentioned power as one of the possible reasons the bukavac had been summoned. I had no doubt the demon’s appearance was related to Karl’s murder and the disappearance of Miss Butters. Karl’s death had been sacrificial, or at least an attempt at a ritual sacrifice. The demon summoning had also failed, because Perun had been unaware of the offering until we’d delivered it to the hallowed ground. Miss Butters was most likely a third bid for increased power.
Gladiola needed to clear a path to the Communications divisions. She didn’t need power.
But I knew who did.
I picked up the pace, my mind racing. I was pretty sure I knew what happened to Miss Butters and why. Now I had to figure out how to stop him before it was too late.
I started with the place I’d seen him most often. The library.
“Fred, George,” I said, panting. “Have you seen Ivan?”
The gargoyles exchanged glances.
“Which one is Ivan?” Fred asked. “They all start to look the same in those cloaks.”
“Says the stone gargoyle with a twin,” I muttered.
“You know Ivan,” George said. “He’s the one who seems like he should have toilet paper perpetually stuck to the bottom of his shoe.”
“Oh, that Ivan,” Fred replied. “Why didn’t you say so?”
I tempered my frustration. “You’ve seen him today then?”
“Today?” Fred pondered the question. “Yes. This morning. He left with a heavy book.”
“I was sure it would set off a ward,” George added. “It looked important. Lots of runes etched into the cover. Those are usually restricted to use inside the library.”
Ugh. It sounded like Ivan was definitely gearing up for another power play. Ivan hadn’t been in the healer’s clinic because of a mixology experiment gone awry. He’d hurt himself during his summoning of the demon. He was in awe of my magical abilities—envied me—because power like mine would have assured him the warden position he desperately wanted.
“Thanks,” I said. “If you happen to see him pass this way again, stall him until you can flag someone down.”
“What’s he done?” George asked. “Wiped his drippy nose on his cloak sleeve instead of a handkerchief?”
“He murdered a human during a ritual sacrifice for power, summoned a demon, and now he may be sacrificing Professor Langley’s beloved Miss Butters,” I replied.
Fred and George fell silent.
“So do your best to stop him if he comes this way,” I said.
Fred cleared his throat. “Will do.”
“Good luck, Bryn,” George added.
I sprinted away from the library, trying to figure out the best place for Ivan to set up his next ritual. Ivan’s room would be private as a fourth year, but he’d mentioned noisy neighbors, so he’d need to go somewhere away from the academy for peace and quiet. The demon had appeared in the forest during herbology class. Karl’s body was discovered in the river that ran through the forest.
There wasn’t time to go for help. Whatever Ivan was planning to do, he was doing it now. If he succeeded this time, who knew what kind of power he would amass? With the blessing of a powerful enough god, Ivan could end up impossible to defeat.
I bolted toward the forest and prayed I wasn’t too late to stop him.
18
The sound of a distressed chicken reached my straining ears, and I increased my speed. If Miss Butters was still alive, that meant I could stop the ritual. Brambles scratched my legs and branches reached for me, but I managed to bob and weave my way through them until I reached the clearing where Ivan had set up his third attempt.
“Ivan, stop!” I yelled.
The fourth-year wizard sat naked in a magic circle, his body covered in painted runes. At least I hoped it was paint. The large book from the library was in front of him, and Miss Butters was in a cage to the side. He gripped his wand as he examined the open page of the book. Whatever type of magic involved nudity and a chicken, I wanted no part of it.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. Gone was the pleasant tone of the trainee I’d met in the library, or the voice on the other side of the wall in the healer’s clinic. This was the real Ivan, the one who lurked and resented and envied. The one who killed as the means to an end.
I adopted my most threatening tone. “I can’t let you do this.”
He seemed mildly amused. “I defy an inexperienced first year like you to get past the circle. It’s warded.”
I didn’t hesitate. I remembered Gray’s amazement at Thumpkin Enterprises when my blood destroyed the sophisticated ward. I plucked a branch from the ground and used the sharper end to cut open my palm. I sprinkled a few drops of blood on the circle and listened to the satisfying hiss of the ward breaking. I stepped over the line and into the circle.
I folded my arms. “You were saying?”
Ivan scrambled backward like a crab. “How did you…? I don’t understand. That ward was perfect.”
“Magic blood, remember? Hand over Miss Butters and stop whatever insane ritual you’ve started,” I commanded.
His eyes widened. “Insane? It’s ingenious. Do you have any idea how many rituals I’ve experimented with?”
“At least three,” I said. “Including the one that killed Karl Muldoon.”
Ivan’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know it was me?”
“You’re not as clever as you think,” I said. “If you’re going to aim for evil genius, you need to learn to cover your tracks better.”
He seemed to regain his composure. “And I suppose you’re here to turn me in?”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to let you finish what you’ve started.”
His mocking laugh filled the air. “By yourself? I doubt that very much. Karl seemed to think he could overpower me, once he realized what was happening.” He shook his head. “Pathetic human. As if I could really offer him immortality. They’re all such fools, yet in Terrene, Karl was treated like a golden boy.”
An image of Karl’s younger sister blazed in my mind. Her sad, knowing eyes. “Karl didn’t deserve that fate,” I said. “He was a good person and very loved by those who knew him. You targeted him like a predator hunts prey. It’s disgusting.”
“I had to choose someone like Karl,” Ivan said. “The sacrifice had to be meaningful or it wouldn’t work. Do you think the gods want a homeless person? Their existence means nothing. They would have no value to the gods.”
I looked at him in disbelief. “All life has value.” How could Ivan ever hope to become a warden with an attitude like his?
Ivan’s eyes narrowed. “The ritual demanded a sacrifice from the upper echelon of society. I wasn’t about to choose someone from our world. Anyone who fit that description would be too powerful for me.”
“So you chose a human.”
“It took me weeks to find the right candidate,” Ivan said. “Do you know how many charity events I had to endure when I should’ve been here preparing for exams? There was Karl, the envy of every guy in the room and the object of all the girls’ desire, even some of the older women.” He grunted. “I knew he’d be perfect.”
“If he was so perf
ect, then why didn’t the ritual work?”
Ivan’s eyes flashed with anger. “I don’t know. I practiced that spell to perfection. The preparation alone was so time-consuming. I couldn’t believe all my time spent was for nothing.”
My heart ached at the thought of Karl’s final moments. That he died for a wizard’s fragile ego. I already knew life was unfair, but this proved it.
“How did you get across the border so many times without the Order of the Edge recording it?” I asked.
“I’m a fourth year,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain. “I used a cloaking spell.”
“You’re not supposed to use cloaking spells to sneak across the border,” I said. “It violates the honor code.” Which sounded incredibly lame given that I was preaching ethics to a murderer.
“And what do you know about any code of ethics?” Ivan scoffed. “With your history, I find it incredible they’re allowing you to stay here at all.”
I stiffened. “My father’s deeds aren’t a reflection on me. I never even met him.”
“His blood flows through your veins,” Ivan said. A sly look crossed his features. “Powerful blood that bends subjects to your will.”
Blood bender.
I remembered the magic I used to subdue the serpopards. If I could somehow get my blood into Ivan’s system, I could control him. Take him down.
The thought terrified me.
I didn’t want to use blood magic against Ivan. Against anyone. I had no doubt that was the kind of power that turned my father toward the blackest of magic. That kind of power had a seductive quality that was hard to ignore. With a few drops of my blood, I could exert complete control over Ivan. But what if I didn’t just subdue him the way I subdued the serpopards? What if I killed him? Where exactly was the line between good and evil so that I could be certain not to cross it?
Ivan’s words snapped me back to reality. “Let’s be honest. You’d make an excellent sacrifice, Bryn Morrow.”
I edged away from him. “You already said why you didn’t use a paranormal. Why change course now?”
Outclassed: Spellslingers Academy of Magic (Warden of the West Book 2) Page 16
