by Maria Amor
“It’s someone’s damned responsibility,” she pointed out. “And if the teachers can’t or won’t do anything, if Ruth can’t do anything…” the sentence died off. “Then the students as a whole will have to.”
“The students as a whole don’t equal just you,” Dylan told her firmly. “Let’s see what Ruth says, and figure out how you’re going to storm the castle afterwards if we have to.”
Dylan grabbed the backpack he’d carried into the car with him and Julia did the same with her own light bag; they were only supposed to stay with Ruth overnight, and be back in Manhattan by lunch the next day, with enough time to get to Sandrine for Sunday night. Both Dylan and Julia had done as much of their homework ahead as possible, spending a few extra hours in the study hall to get it done.
If he was honest with himself, Dylan knew that there was something behind what Julia kept insisting; the situation at Sandrine was weird and getting weirder, even compared to other years he’d been there. The way things were going, he couldn’t necessarily blame Julia for thinking that something needed to be done—he didn’t disagree—but he also knew that if there was something corrupt, or something sinister, that the two of them were unlikely to be able to do anything about it.
The car came to a stop and Dylan watched as Julia, restless still, opened the door and climbed out without waiting for the driver to come and let her out. He shook his head, smiling slightly, and followed her out of the back seat, onto the walkway that led to Ruth’s front door. As it had before, the door opened and a member of the household staff appeared; Dylan had seen the man before, but he hadn’t even gotten his name.
“She’s waiting for you in the living room,” the man said. “I can take your things up to your rooms.” Dylan nodded and handed over his backpack to the staffer, turning in the direction of the living room. Most of their meetings with Ruth over the summer had been in that room, though Dylan and the older Guardian had gone into the yard often for the purpose of practicing certain incantations and forms of magic. He was used to the comfortable splendor of the less-formal spot in the house, and he knew that Julia was more at ease there, as well.
Ruth sat in her usual chair, in a simple dress—but Dylan could tell by looking at the soft, fluid fabric that it was probably expensive, maybe silk. She looked just as formidable as ever, and Dylan wondered at the strange twist of luck that had brought him and Julia together as friends, that had made the most powerful water-aligned human on the planet to have an interest in him. It was like meeting with a creature almost, rather than a person—as Ruth grew older, it was more obvious to everyone, according to what Dylan had heard, that she had power coursing through her body that almost no one could handle.
Ruth stood and hugged Julia, and turned to Dylan next, offering him her hand. Dylan took it and accepted the greeting, letting his fingers just lay against her palm, and felt her energy; it was as strong as ever, flowing like a steady, inexorable river, from her into him. “You’ve got much better control,” Ruth commented, not quite smiling but with approval in her eyes.
“I’ve been practicing,” Dylan told her.
“Have a seat, both of you,” Ruth said. She led by example, sitting back down in her chair. “Tell me what’s going on?” She glanced from Julia to Dylan, and Dylan could sense—vaguely, softly—her desire for him to weigh in; but it was Julia’s story to tell for the most part.
“There have been a rash of accusations against air-aligned people at the school,” Julia began. “One of the fae, Orla, came to me about it when it started.” Julia explained about the accusations against Orla: how they had no basis in fact, but she’d been punished anyway.
“There are other strange things going on, too,” Dylan chimed in when Julia had explained that aspect of the strangeness at Sandrine. “There have been some similar attempts with some water-aligned students, but not as many. But the stuff that the new dean is doing is just…” he shook his head.
“He’s cut all clubs except for the ones that compete in academics,” Julia explained. “He’s constantly sitting in on the classes of the teachers who were there before him, but if anyone complains about some of the things the new teachers are doing, he says they’re exaggerating, and it’s not worth investigating.” Ruth’s eyes seemed to widen a fraction at that news, but Dylan couldn’t be sure.
“There are all kinds of new rules that didn’t exist before—but rules that make no sense,” Dylan said. “If it was just that things were more rigorous, then that would be okay—but no one knows when something’s going to change.”
Ruth digested this for a few moments, and Dylan felt the dread that she would tell them both that she couldn’t interfere with Sandrine any more than she already had; after all, one of the basic premises of the school was that the dean was in charge, answerable only to the advisory committee—and that committee seemed to be going wild as well, okaying almost everything that Dean Dimitrios did.
“This is serious,” Ruth said. “We’ve had some political issues in the council that have come up—fire and earth Guardians wanting to get more credit for things that don’t belong to them, trying to take more control. That’s how Dimitrios was given the post.” Ruth pressed her lips together and Dylan could tell there was more that she wanted to say—but she decided against it at the last moment. “There’s a lot going on in the upper areas of our society, and a lot of people are worried about what Julia’s blossoming will mean for the balance of power.”
“It’s not going to mean anything,” Julia protested. “I’m just one person, and I’m not even…” she shook her head, bewildered. “There is no way anything that’s going on really has to do with me.”
“Yes and no,” Ruth said. “Yes, in the sense that there’s been a long period of time without very many powerful air-aligned Guardians in the council. For the most part, the air-aligned group has sort of been biding its time, trading favors, keeping itself going.” She shrugged. “The Rex Sylphae is not a particularly strong-minded man, even if he’s powerful in his element.”
“But what does that have to do with me?” Ruth raised an eyebrow and Dylan could almost feel her suppress the urge to laugh.
“My dear, every report that comes out about you makes you stronger and stronger—of course there’s going to be a hope that you’ll eventually be in a position to take over the mantle of ruling the element.”
That didn’t just shock Julia; even Dylan stared at the older woman at the announcement. He’d known that Julia’s early signs of powerful elemental talent, along with her relationship to the most powerful water-aligned Guardian on the planet, made her a political target and the subject of intrigues from families looking to work their way up the ladder. But he’d never thought that she was considered a serious eventual contender for ruling over the element itself.
“That’s—no,” Julia said, shaking her head. “I could never…” she waved her hands slightly in distress. “That’s not even something I want, or could do, or…” Julia stood quickly and began pacing the living room in jerky, uncoordinated steps. “This is ridiculous.”
“I’m not saying you will be, or have to be,” Ruth said. “But considering how powerful you are, that’s on everyone’s mind.” Dylan watched as Julia continued to pace for a few moments longer, the wind outside of the house rattling the windows slightly as it responded to her agitation. When a few birds began to assemble on the sills outside, tweeting and chirping their distress, Dylan looked at Ruth, wondering why she didn’t call Julia down.
“Jules,” Dylan said quickly but firmly. “You’re upsetting the wildlife.” Julia glanced at him, and the full effect of her hazel eyes, almost glowing with intensity, was enough to make him wish—again—that Ruth, the much more powerful Guardian in the room, would take over.
“I’m not going to do it,” Julia said, turning her attention back to her grandmother.
“Considering you’ve been gung ho about overthrowing the dean of the school…” Julia’s face turned towards him
again and Dylan’s sentence died in his mouth at the sight of her expression, at the power he could feel radiating out of her unchecked, uncontrolled. Christ—she isn’t even fully transitioned! Suddenly, the task that Ruth had set Dylan seemed much more difficult than it had at any point in the last several months.
“Julia, get your output under control,” Ruth said, quietly but sharply, and Dylan felt the words like a slap—and he could see by her grimace that Julia had felt them even more harshly. The wind died down to a sirocco, and the birds gathered on the windowsills outside began to quiet. “That is exactly why people are speculating about you.”
“She’s not even fully powered yet,” Dylan said, looking from his former friend to her grandmother. “She hasn’t come into her complete level of ability.”
“And that wasn’t something she was trying to do,” Ruth agreed.
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Julia said, her voice tight.
“You need to understand that the more people realize how powerful you’re going to be, the more they’re going to look to you to eventually take over the role of Regina Sylphaea.”
“I’m not going to,” Julia told the older woman firmly, and Dylan couldn’t resist a slight smile at her insistence. “I didn’t even know that that was a thing that could exist six months ago, and I’m not going to try and put myself on some kind of path to become the ultimate air Guardian or something just because some people are getting ruffled about it.”
“I didn’t say you have to,” Ruth said. Her voice was calm, but cold—and Dylan could feel the temperature in the room starting to drop. He thought the older woman was almost certainly influencing it, trying to bear down on her granddaughter to subtly reinforce control. “Sit down. Agatha is about to bring in tea—and no, you won’t have coffee instead. You’re already too psyched up.” Dylan watched Julia try to resist the command from her grandmother, saw her body tense with the obvious desire to contradict the older woman, but then she took the few steps to her seat and sighed as she resumed it.
“I don’t know that I’ll be able to do much in terms of long-term affairs at Sandrine,” Ruth continued. “I can pull a few strings to try and get the false accusations to stop—but if it’s being done will full collusion all around, that won’t accomplish much. I am damned sure going to find out what my counterpart for the element of earth has to say about it.” Ruth’s bright, bottle-green eyes looked as impenetrable as glass, and as cold as liquid nitrogen.
Agatha brought in a tray with tea and different snacks on it, as always, and Dylan poured for the two women in the room before helping himself to the tea. It was one of Ruth’s blends, and Dylan—who was beginning to learn more advanced material on potions, a uniquely water-aligned form of magic—thought that someone in the kitchen must have added a little more verbena and some chicory to the mix to balance out Julia’s volatile mood.
For a few moments, the three of them ate and sipped, with Ruth merely sampling a few items on the tray while Dylan and Julia ate more hungrily. In the back of his mind, Dylan thought that in spite of the power surge he’d seen, and the other one he’d heard about—and even the rumors that flitted around Sandrine every day—he hadn’t had a real concept of the kind of power that Julia was growing into.
“It’s going to be important for you to eat a little more than usual as you head into the strongest part of your transition,” Ruth said, her attention on Julia. Dylan remembered a similar piece of advice from his own “blossoming.”
“Why?” Julia frowned, even as she popped the last bite of a cookie into her mouth.
“The transition is hard on human bodies,” Ruth explained. “The more power that goes through you, the more you’re changing, the harder it is. And you’re changing a great deal, from a physical standpoint.” She paused and her lips twitched in an expression that might have become a smile. “You’re not going to get fat, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“That isn’t what I’m worried about,” Julia said tartly. “I just never heard that before.”
“Most Guardians instinctively end up eating a little more, prompted by their bodies,” Ruth said. “Air-aligned Guardians aren’t as good about listening to physical instincts, and with as much power as you’ve got changing you, it bears you thinking about it consciously.” Ruth glanced at Dylan, and Dylan could almost hear her unspoken thought: I’m counting on you to reinforce this.
“What, am I going to have to report my daily caloric intake to you?” Julia’s voice was more petulant than Dylan thought Ruth’s comments merited, even if she was irritable about the news that people thought she would be the new Regina Sylphaea one day.
“No,” Ruth said mildly. “I just want you to keep it in mind. You’ll be better able to deal with the power surges if you eat a little more, a little better.” The older woman pinned Julia down with a frank gaze, and Julia subsided, leaning forward to grab another cookie off of the tray. Ruth turned her attention back onto Dylan. “After refreshments, I’d like to work with you for a few hours; Julia can amuse herself here just fine.” Dylan nodded his acceptance of the invitation, and glanced at Julia, wondering what she thought of it.
By all indications, she was fine with the idea—much more contented by it than she had been by anything else that had happened since they’d arrived at Ruth’s house. “I’ll go wander to the back gardens,” she said. “There are some flowers out back that way I wanted to see the last time I was here that I didn’t get to.” The older Guardian’s property was huge, and it was difficult to really take in everything it had to offer in a single visit; especially since she seemed to constantly change things around, an ability brought on by part of her gifts.
Dylan finished his tea, and another few cookies, and Julia left the living room, headed to the back door of the house to visit the gardens she liked the best. “What did you want to teach me?” Dylan’s curiosity was almost as intense as he knew Julia’s had to be.
“I had hoped that I had more time to teach you this particular technique,” Ruth said, rising to her feet more quickly than Dylan would have thought possible for such an old woman. He stood as well, following her away from the seating area of the living room, and out to a more open spot, in front of the fireplace. Ruth let her hands fall to her sides and face him. “Our alignment with the element of water means that one of our most powerful domains is emotion,” Ruth explained.
Dylan nodded; it was something that he’d learned even before starting at Sandrine, something his own mother had taught him as it had become clear what his alignment was. “Water washes away, it soothes, but it’s also a force for change and upheaval.” It was straight out of the book that all water-aligned Guardians were assigned, a book that every school that taught Guardians used—the words as old as written language itself.
“One of our most subtle, but most powerful forms of magic is the manipulation of emotions,” Ruth explained. “This is something that they no longer prefer to teach at Sandrine—can’t have a bunch of teenagers thinking they can manipulate someone into loving them, or hating them—but it’s a valuable tool, and one I think you’ll need.”
“For what?” Dylan frowned, wondering: if the professors at Sandrine no longer thought it was a good idea to teach students what Ruth was about to impart to him, was it really something he should know?
“A few different things,” Ruth replied. “You saw what just happened: you need to be able to reign in my granddaughter when she becomes unmanageable. And I can guarantee you that that will only become more pronounced as she comes closer to her full powers. You might need it to deal with someone who comes up against her, as well.” Ruth smiled ever so slightly. “As long as you don’t use this against your professors, I think you’ll be fine.”
Dylan smiled in spite of himself and took a deep breath, preparing for the lesson that Ruth had to impart. “I’m ready,” he said, once he had cleared his mind enough of the events of the morning and the worries he had on his mind. Ruth n
odded.
“What you need to do is to draw on the essence of your ability, deep inside of yourself,” Ruth said. Dylan felt the change in the energy of the room around them, felt it flowing and shifting, guided by Ruth’s oversight. “Feel the moving waters that make up the energy you’re aligned with, the energy at your core, and use them to push against the defenses of the other person. Wash away the walls they have up, like a torrent.”
Ruth began to slowly murmur an incantation that Dylan had never heard before, in the ancient language that water-aligned Guardians all learned. He paid close attention, and she pronounced it carefully enough for him to catch each syllable of the words, making it easier for him to commit it to memory. As she spoke, he could feel his emotions changing, shifting in his mind; in spite of his focus, he could feel something like sadness building up, remorse but at what he couldn’t say.
Dylan tried to fight it, but he knew that it was useless, and as Ruth continued to murmur the incantation, the sadness deepened, tugging at him from all directions, giving him an ache in his chest that was almost unbearable. He let out a sob and Ruth slowed down, lessening the effect of the magic on him. She began to murmur the incantation again, and instead of sadness he felt a slow, building kind of joy: steady, warm contentment, soothing the sadness that had risen up in him until he almost couldn’t believe he had felt it in the first place.
“You see?” Dylan shook off the influence of the subtle, insidious magic and looked at Ruth in amazement.
“Why didn’t you use this on Julia before?” He was almost angry at the older woman for the decision.
“The more you do it to someone, the greater their chances of developing a tolerance for it,” Ruth said. “Besides which, I try and interfere—magically, at least—as little as possible with family.” Dylan half-smiled in amusement at the caveat that Ruth had added to her statement.
“But you want me to use this on her?” Ruth nodded.
