by Candy Crum
The only problem with that was she was the weakest link.
Celine had no weapons or formal fighting skills—only what she’d picked up getting into fights in the street over her traitorous whore of a sister, as they’d called her. The nobles had not been kind to Celine once Elayne’s body had been recovered along with the Hunters she’d killed.
But none of that mattered anymore.
Celine knew how to throw a good punch, and hell, she knew how to take one, too. Her fighting style was raw, explosive, not unlike that of a rearick, but she needed skills with weapons.
Every night, after the house was quiet, and everyone else was asleep—including the rearick, Samuel, who was now taking up residence as well—Celine came outside, taking Arryn’s bow and Cathillian’s throwing knives to practice.
It was slow at first, learning on her own, but that’s how she’d done everything since Elayne had died. Learned and grew on her own.
She thought about asking for help, but decided it was best not to. They already trained so hard, and now they planned to take on even more. Celine didn’t want to hinder them, not when she could learn alone with lots of practice.
But, sometimes, things don’t always work out as planned.
“What’re ye doin’ out here, lass?”
Celine jumped, missing her shot entirely when the rearick spoke.
“What’d the air ever do to ye? I ask because that seems ta be the only thing ye can hit.” Samuel approached with a smile on his heavily bearded face, but his eyes appeared exhausted. He’d been asleep at some point.
Celine looked down to the pilfered bow then back to Samuel. “I practice at night. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she replied.
He waved a hand in the air. “Don’t worry about it. But with the noise yer makin’, I thought fer sure I’d find a mess of dead targets.”
She shook her head. “I’m not that great. Not yet, anyway. But I’ll get there; you’ll see.”
Samuel laughed. “In a few years maybe. I don’t know shit about archery. That’s yer niece’s thing. Maybe the bigger lad, too. But I can sure as hell teach ye ta throw a knife. Maybe we should start thar before ye accidentally kill a squirrel, and its forest friends come ta tell the druids on ye.”
Celine laughed before nodding. “That’s a plan, rearick.”
Samuel made his way over to the table and picked up the knives. Pulling one free, he pinched the bladed end of it between the side of his index finger and thumb.
“Don’t squeeze too tight,” he said, moving his wrist back and forth to show the blade swaying just a bit to demonstrate the tightness of his grip. “Don’t death-grip it, or it won’t spin. Just squeeze tight enough that it won’t fly outta yer hand when ye pull back ta throw. Watch me.”
Samuel stepped up, and with a firm, yet relaxed grip on the knife, he pulled his arm back, the handle of the blade falling back parallel with his wrist. He moved fast, his arm almost a blur as he threw the knife, the blade making a full turn before stabbing hard into the target she had set up.
“Wow!” she exclaimed. “Let me try.”
Stepping forward, Celine took a knife and tried to hold it just as Samuel had. Laughing a bit, Samuel stepped forward.
“Yer not throwin’ a ball, lassie. Yer arm is too far out ta the side.” He gently took hold of her arm at the elbow and wrist, repositioning it. “When ye throw, yer hand will stay almost directly over yer shoulder, tucked in tight, but not uncomfortably so. Here—try this.”
Celine threw the blade, but not hard enough. It spun too many times, and the handle hit the target first before falling to the ground.
“Hey!” Samuel shouted.
Celine grumbled. “What do you seem so happy about? I missed!”
He smiled and patted her hard on the back. “But ye didn’t! Ye hit yer target, girlie. The only flaw here is ye didn’t have the confidence to throw harder. Keep practicin’. I’ll check on ye tomorrow, and ye better be hittin’ somethin’. Got it?”
She smiled as she switched from looking at the target back to Samuel, nodding. “I will. Thank you for the help. That’s the first time I’ve hit anything.”
“Aye, no problem. Focus on the knives and leave the archery ta the nature users fer now. Seems the blades are what yer sweet on. Perfect those, and ye can’t go wrong. Get ‘em right and then try on somethin’ else.”
“Thank you,” she said again, smiling as he made his way inside.
She picked up another knife and held the tip between her fingers, feeling the weight. Tossing the blade into the air, letting it tumble over, and then catching it by the blade again, she thought, I’ve got this.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Talia made her way through the streets to the meeting, keeping her eyes open for any Guard that might be lurking. So far, Jackson had been very accurate. This part of town was not only devoid of people, but the Guard was nowhere to be found either. She was able to walk around freely and do as she pleased.
She found the road Jackson had told her about, and turned down it. She walked quietly, making sure every footstep was completely silent. She inspected every window for the red curtains, until she finally found a beautiful house with deep red drapes.
She studied it for moment before taking several steps forward and testing the doorknob. It opened right away, and she looked inside to see that magitech lights were on. Pushing the door open farther, she saw a lot of people sitting in a living room with sheets over the furniture.
The interior was exquisite. There was a beautiful fireplace across from the couch. She could tell that a large picture once hung above it since the wall was a slightly lighter color in that spot. The entire house was full of dust. As she closed the door, she saw three swords sitting in the corner behind it. They were beautiful, ornately crafted.
"Dean Talia!” Jackson exclaimed. "So happy that you could join us."
Talia smiled and gave him a quick wave. Talia noticed there were more people than Jackson had told her about. He'd originally said there would be seven or eight, but it now appeared there were far more.
Jackson stood before the group and motioned to Talia. "Hey, everyone. As you can see, she decided to come. She hasn't promised to do anything yet, but Dean Talia, I'm going to let you introduce yourself properly and ask any questions you might have."
Before Talia could even respond, Scarlett made her way in the door. She sauntered across the room with a large smile on her face and a bag on her shoulder. "Greetings everyone."
One of the other teachers began to stand, but Talia and Jackson both put a hand up to still her.
"She's the one who pulled me away," Jackson said. "She's the one who saved me from those shithead Boulevard students. She’s new to the Academy, so I’m not sure who does and doesn’t know her yet, but this is Scarlett. Anyway, she’s safe."
The teacher only nodded before relaxing and sitting back down.
"What are you doing here?" Talia asked Scarlett in a hushed whisper. “You were only supposed to drop the bag off outside for me to grab when I needed it.”
Scarlett shrugged. "You didn't think I’d miss out on all the fun, did you? Besides, he invited me, and you need me here."
Talia stifled the urge to roll her eyes. She didn't need anyone. However, Scarlett could certainly be useful in such a situation. "Good. I expect you to work then. Get into their heads. I need to know if I can trust them, and quickly."
Talia turned to the group, studying each of their faces to see just how many of them she knew. Only two of them had been hired since she'd come to the Academy, which meant that all the others had been upset about their situation since the beginning. There were six other teachers, and nine students. With Talia and Scarlett, that made a good-sized group.
With all the people in the room, Talia decided to take note of everyone here.
First, the teachers: Victoria, Rebecca, Bernice, David, Daniel, and William. Then, the students: the twins, Caydon and Camdon, Lisa, Connor, Hugh, Leon, Brandi,
Margaret, and Jackson.
"Good evening," Talia began. "I know it's probably strange to have me here. I’ve been very open about helping the city and also about staying a neutral party between the Boulevard students and the nobles. That being said, one thing I know for sure is that when I saw how badly Jackson was hurt, I folded. No matter how I felt before, at that moment I knew something had to be done."
Talia made sure to speak slowly and eloquently, doing her best to give Scarlett enough time to peek into the minds of everyone there. She turned to her companion, her eyes imploring the mystic to give her an update.
Scarlett smiled. "I've checked them all. They're all very clean. They’re terrified of what the Boulevard students are capable of, but they refused to do anything for fear of Amelia. They'll only move if they have someone they can trust to win this for them."
Jackson's brows furrowed as he stood. "Talia, what’s she talking about?"
Talia once again looked at Scarlett, who nodded. "It's safe. Spill it," Scarlett told her.
Turning back to her audience, Talia smiled, crossing her arms over her chest. "It looks like I’m telling you a few things sooner rather than later. Scarlett is a mystic. I'm sure all of you are familiar with the mystical arts, even if you don't know how to use them, yes?"
Everyone looked at each other for a moment before turning back to her and nodding.
"Good. I don't trust anyone. I'm sure all of you can understand that, given what we've been through. Scarlett here helps make sure I know exactly what's going on. I think it's time that I did as Jackson suggested, so let me introduce myself properly. My name is Talia, and I am the daughter of your past Chancellor, Adrien."
For a moment, looks of confusion swept across those in attendance. Everyone once again glanced at one another for answers, but slowly, as they gazed at her, studied her, those looks of confusion melted away, and their eyes reflected recognition.
Talia looked so much like her mother that it was hard to see unless you knew what you were looking for. Only then could you spot Adrien's obvious features on her beautiful face.
"Adrien had a daughter?" Victoria asked, her bright blue eyes glowing with excitement as she studied Talia’s face.
Talia looked at her. “He kept it a secret because he was rather paranoid. He knew someone might use me against him.”
Or—more accurately—meet an untimely end by some Boulevard bitch, she thought to herself.
“If he did, he wanted to make sure he had one person he could trust no matter what. Unfortunately, I didn't get my letter from Doyle until after my father died, but I vowed I wouldn't let his death be ignored. But make no mistake… I am not my father. I have no interest in power, or in building an airship, or any other exorbitant plan for dominance he may have once entertained. All I want is to continue ruling in honor of the man who gave me everything, who made me strong. All of you want that as well. Even if you hated my father, you know he was right. The people of Arcadia have their place, as does magic."
Talia was careful to choose her words, avoiding anything that sounded like revenge or that could induce terror. She wanted them to believe she wanted to reinstate her father’s rules without being as violent as he’d been. She wanted them to believe she’d be the ruler they’d always wanted Adrien to be—though sacrifices would need to be made.
Jackson's eyes were wide as he stared at her. Talia gave him a reassuring smile, hoping that he would buy that she was sincere. "Jackson, I hope you don't feel betrayed or misled by me. That was never my intention. I never wanted to cause damage, only heal and do things the way they should have been done. Now that I’ve gotten close to you, and I've seen the devastation these people can cause. My mission no longer matters. Now it's our mission."
Jackson gave a small nod before looking at the floor. He seemed to be mulling things over. Finally, he looked at Talia and smiled. "I understand. I don't feel that you betrayed me. I guess I would've done the same thing in your shoes. It's not like you could just come in here and announce you were Adrien's daughter and have anyone trust you.”
He sighed as he looked around the room to the other faces. “We would have, but everyone else would've hated you. You never would've even gotten the job in the first place, and we would be stuck. Your reasons for coming back to the city aren't important. Not anymore. What's important is that you found it in your heart to help us."
Rebecca, another teacher, stood then. Her brown eyes seemed dark, furious, though her expression was amused. "Those Boulevard kids are capable of terrible things. We can't let them destroy our Academy, and we can't let them hurt us. We all know as soon as they learn magic, they will use it against us. They will take all those years of imaginary abuse out on us, when it was never our fault."
"I couldn't agree more," Talia assured her. "So, the question is, will you trust me? Will you let me help you? I promise—if you do—the city will find its final transformation. It’ll be everything it should've been from the beginning."
One by one, everyone stood, and one by one they pledged their allegiance to Talia.
Scarlett took a step forward, sitting the bag on a table and opening it up. She pulled a bottle of wine free and held it up. “To celebrate, I brought a very special wine for all of us to share while I tell you a legend. And if you know anything about mystics, you know we are wonderful storytellers. Some would even call us master illusionists…”
***
Arryn awoke with a start as she did every morning, heart racing and sweat beading on her forehead. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself before sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed.
She sighed heavily and took a drink of water from the bedside table before standing and making her way out of the room. As she headed downstairs, she smelled something burning.
Rushing into the kitchen, she saw Cathillian turn with a start and look at her with wide eyes, guilt all over his face. Arryn closed her eyes for a moment as she crossed her arms.
"What exactly are you up to in here?" she asked. "Are you trying to burn the house down?”
"Sorry! You get mad at me when I wake you from those dreams, so I thought I’d make breakfast instead. I would have asked Celine, but she’s still passed out. She’s always up early, so I figured she could use the rest. Quit giving me that look. It kept me busy and out of your hair, didn't it?"
Arryn crossed the room and sat at the table, laying her head on the cool wood. "Well, whatever it was, I’m pretty sure it's done.” She smiled, but it was hidden from his view. “And I do hate it when you wake me from those dreams. I just wish I’d quit having them. I figured they would've stopped by now; they’ve never lasted this long."
"Do you want some blackened coal for breakfast? Because if you do, I'm a damn good chef."
Arryn laughed, looking up from the table. "Coal is black, dork.”
“Yeah, but I blackened it more. It’s like—twice blackened. See? Talent.”
Arryn rolled her eyes, her expression still very amused. “Even if it didn't smell like that, I still wouldn't eat it. I don't trust it. You'd trick me into eating a fried piece of dog shit if you could."
His brows furrowed as he looked down into the scorched pan before looking back to her. "So, you mean I snuck into the neighbor’s yard this morning and waited for the dog to go back in for nothing? I nearly got punched to make you this fine breakfast."
Arryn was already beginning to feel better. Her heart had slowed to a regular rhythm, and the laughing was taking her mind off everything. "What did you actually try to cook?"
He smiled, but it was full of mischief. Arryn's face fell as she stared at him.
"Cathillian…” her voice a bit sterner. “What did you try to make?"
"Well, let's just say that I wasn't lying about nearly getting punched this morning." Cathillian only grinned again as Arryn looked at him incredulously. "Or about waiting in the neighbor’s yard... I might have stolen some eggs."
"Holy shit, Cathillian! What�
��s the matter with you? You didn't have to do that. I have money now, you know. By proxy—you have money now, too. We can buy eggs. Or chickens."
Arryn made a mental note to hunt down some chickens. Of course, she would have to pay the neighbor for the eggs her ridiculous friend stole, but then she could teach him how to properly cook them. It was obvious he'd never cooked a thing in his entire life.
"So, enough about my exciting morning and fine cooking skills. What are you up to today on your day off?"
"I think I'm gonna go see Amelia. She's convinced that either Doyle was lying, or she was delirious from blood loss. Either way, she doesn't believe anything she remembers, but I do. I think Doyle was very serious about someone coming to the city, and it’s way too much of a coincidence to find out about it after having met Talia."
"So, you think the big bad is Talia?" Cathillian asked.
"I don't know. It's odd. The day we met Amelia I got a buzzy feeling in my head because she was looking inside my mind. That's a feeling I’ll never forget, mostly because I feel it quite often at school."
Arryn crossed the room, filling a pot with hot water before setting it to boil. Though Arcadia didn't have kaffe like they did in the Forest, it did have tea, and that would have to suffice.
"It doesn't matter at this stage if I'm right or wrong. I just need to either prove it's not her so I can move on with my life and maybe even try to like her, or prove that it is her, so I can make sure she doesn't do any damage to the city. I've been there for a while now and that feeling hasn't gone away, but it's not like she's tried anything weird either. I just need to talk to Amelia. Maybe Adrien left some things that I can go through."
"Do you even know what you're looking for? Didn’t you say Amelia told you Doyle didn't give her a name?"
Arryn shrugged as she turned and went back over to the table, waiting for the water to boil. "No, he didn't give her a name, but my dream isn't just a dream, it's my actual memory. It's everything that really happened that night, and it's exactly how I remember it. My father told my mother there was a big secret, something he’d found out about Adrien. He said something, but I didn't hear him that night because I was freaking out."
