I glanced over at Wit who stared up at the portrait beside me, the picture of the perfect neat and tidy student. “You admire her. Why?”
She laughed and gave me a momentarily condescending glance before she refocused on the image. “Madame Rose was a world maker. She didn’t conquer in the conventional sense, but the world we live in has her impression more than any other Day or Darksider. She was a master contract witch.”
“I didn’t think that witches did contracts.”
She laughed. “No one told her that, or if they did, she ignored them. She was determined to change things, and the only way she could see to do that, was to influence policy on every level. For fifty years, nothing was signed or passed without her examining it. She became the law, justice, mercy, all rolled into one extremely gentle and kind person. She could persuade as well as any deception sorcereress, without ever using anything for her own personal gain. She was a guardian of our worlds, both Day and Darkside. Yes, Penny Lane, I admire her. Ambition, vision, determination, charm, she’s what power can look like in the right hands. Usually power corrupts. Well, usually we’re already corrupt and seek power to advance our already selfish agendas, but sometimes selflessness becomes selfishness when long range goals of lifting everyone also lifts yourself.”
She shook her head, a touch of awe in her voice.
“I don’t suppose it would impress you to know that she threw a fabulous tea party.”
Her lips twitched and she gave me an arch glance. “No one’s perfect.” She turned and left me but called over her shoulder, “The best revenge is happiness. I could never begin to achieve that, but maybe you can.”
I stood there through the rest of Chemistry, staring at grandmama, the greatest contract witch ever. That didn’t take magic, just meticulous attention to detail, imagination and, of course, an immense breadth of knowledge. Grandmama had talked about things like worst possible outcome combined with unforeseen events and how to allow that into your calculations, but I’d thought she was talking about sewing. She made the most perfect ruffles. After class, I went to meet Ian, to practice our routine. He wasn’t there, so I worked alone, practicing and practicing until it was time for dinner. I checked my phone. Drake was at dinner. That meant that I wouldn’t be. I headed to the library, found a table where I could spread out the tomes on contract law, and got to work.
When Lester sat beside me, I nodded but didn’t look at him. I had things to do, serious things, like take over the world. While I studied, I would have memories of my grandmama’s face or her voice as she explained something. I nodded to the book because she had told me all of those laws of Darksider nature only backwards and inside out. I missed dinner and it was after two when I finally got up, stretched, and noticed that Lester was still there.
He gave me a seductive, nod. “You’re working hard. What is your topic?”
I shrugged and gathered the books together. I was finished with these ones. “Do we need to reshelve or does it do it magically?”
“Leave the books. It gives Oscar something to be irritated about. He loves being irritated. You can’t do magic on magic books or it might cause an accident. I’ll walk with you.”
“Tell me if I understand correctly. Contracts bind a mage’s soul, but mages don’t have souls.”
“Correct.”
I wrinkled my nose. “So the thing that mages have instead of a soul can be captured and chained by a contract which acts like an external conscience, guiding a mage where a soul would a human.”
“Humans can choose to ignore their conscience. A mage cannot ignore a contract.”
“Pain?”
He shook his head, his longish hair brushing his cheekbones. “It isn’t sensation that stops a mage but chains. There is no resistance. It’s like a Necromancer raising a corpse. The body must obey. The contract is the master.”
“So, the Devil’s contract, the one that keeps humans from being taken to Darkside, how does that work? Did all the mages and witches in Darkside sign it so they are bound to the contract?”
“That kind of thing would be better called a policy than a contract. There’s not the same hold as an individual contract, except for the actual witches and mages who signed the Devil’s Treaty. They are held by the contract to enforce the law on other Darksiders.”
“So the whole world of Darkside can be controlled by the enforcement of the group of witches and mages who signed the treaty? So they were really powerful then.”
Lester nodded. “Very powerful. It was a strange treaty. There must have been a lot of dealing behind closed doors to get all of those extremely powerful people to agree to something that doesn’t seem to benefit any of them.”
I frowned as I stared into space. My grandmama had organized something of that magnitude. Maybe she used the fur sunbather to seduce them all into doing it. And the witches? How had she gotten them on her side? And why did she care so much to work so hard for something that while ‘good’ was hardly essential to her personal survival or even happiness? Would my mother know? She only talked about my grandmama’s will, never about her.
In Lilac Stories, Zach was sitting on the arm of the hideous couch, glaring at me the second he saw me. His gaze shifted to Lester. “Lester. Be careful. When the witch gets hungry, she’ll eat anything. Penny, you missed dinner.”
I turned to Lester. I’d forgotten about him for a second. “Right. See you later.” I almost walked past Zach, but he grabbed my arm and yanked me closer, his eyes bright and furious.
“I expected you to spend all day in bed. Why did you go to class?”
I blinked at him. “Professor Vale wore a wig. How could I possibly miss that? I was in your class. You should have noticed.” I pulled away, but he didn’t unclasp his fingers, and they were hard, unyielding mage fingers.
“You aren’t stable. You could have freaked out again, attacked Drake like the last time in front of witnesses, teachers. You have a loyal following of witches who are looking for a cause to fight for. Do you want to start a witch and mage war?”
I frowned at him. “You sound like my mother. Macaroons and lollipops, I’m not going to attack Drake again. Probably.”
“No, you’re going to sit in the rain in your leotard like a pathetic kitten someone threw away.”
I shoved him away from me, enough anger and energy in it that he took a step back. “I’m coping, Zach. I got broken by a mage and I’m trying to find a way to keep it together. Sitting in my room and staring at the swing he hung for me might be the way to go, but personally it sounds more crazy making than trying to act like I’m not pieces stuck together with cheap tacky glue. Now we can talk about the new tech suit we’re going to work on, or I’m going to bed. It’s been a very long day.”
He closed his eyes for a moment before he shook his head. “Right, the tech suit. I saw that you’d gotten started on something. Do you have a materials list? I’m sorry I was out of it. I was dealing with the Neeru for a long time last night.”
“Neeru?”
“It’s something between a mammal and a lizard, the size of my old car. It’s kind of an endangered species in Darkside, but the habitat is gone these days and it’s only held in captivity. The thing is, we can’t just let it free or it’ll kill random Darksiders unless they’re the sort who could use it and catch it, which would be it killing not random Darksiders, but not ours either. I convinced… someone to use it in some fighting, but had to get it set up and find a trainer and… it was a long night, like you said. I thought we’d work on the car first, tech suit later.”
I shrugged. Those pauses had Drake’s name in them. He filled up every pause and hesitation in my life. That’s why it was so important to boldly and rashly leap without looking or thinking. “I don’t mind doing two things at a time.”
“What about your hurters?”
“I can’t.” I crossed my arms and shivered. I might be getting a delayed reaction to this morning’s icy mud bath. “We’ll talk about more st
uff tomorrow. I hope it works out with the Neeru. It was really cute.”
He smiled then. “It was. Night. If you need to hold my hand or anything, you know how to pick my lock.”
Chapter 29
Mage
“You dumped her, so why are you stalking her?” Wit’s voice carried clear and amused.
I glanced over at the doorway to the lab. Witches were rightfully hesitant to enter the mage lab. Wit was not alone. The sight of the two black haired witches, one short, spikes and leather twining her wrists, the other tall, perfectly proportioned, made me pause. Wit and Viney did not join their forces together for any reason.
“Ladies, what brings you here this evening?”
Wit tossed her hair but let Viney speak. “I thought you decided to give her space. Why were you chasing her around?”
I glanced at Wit. She’d been standing in front of a door I’d desperately wanted to go through earlier today. So I’d been stalking Penny. That was good to know. Was it her scent, her energy, her sweetness that I’d been unconsciously tracking?
I smiled as charmingly as possible. “I pursue a girl, I reject her, I pursue her again, does that not sound like me?”
Viney rolled her eyes while Wit smiled, a terrible smile. It was her turn. “You don’t pursue, so no, not particularly. I understand, Drake. I understand everything except the part at the end where you completely choked. You’re supposed to be the mage with follow-through, the one who delivers. Instead, you ran away from the wedding like a frightened little boy.”
Viney nodded, glancing at Wit then at me. “If you’re done with Penny, why were you watching over her in the rain, keeping anyone from seeing her until I could get there? You aren’t anyone’s guardian angel, so why would you bother?”
I stood up and walked over to them. “I could be her guardian devil. Why not? She’s a curiosity. Even if I’m done dating her doesn’t mean she isn’t fascinating. You two are interested, or you wouldn’t be here.”
Wit’s eyes narrowed. “Things have been different, changing over the last few years. Dayside, Darkside, it’s become tangled and messy. Creagh fighting in Dayside for a sorcerer? That shouldn’t happen. A witch like Penny Lane and her friend Pitch, playing with mages and breaking all the rules of what a witch should be and how a witch should act? It’s the rise of a new age, a new era. If we’re going to survive, if our families are going to adapt in this next period, we have to be more than slightly curious about the characters who will change the world, even if they are incredibly annoying.”
Viney scowled at Wit. “So annoying,” she muttered before she shook her head and glared at me. “Drake, what’s going on with Huntsman inc.? Did you really require your armies swear fealty to you? Why? What’s going on? Is there going to be another attack? Bigger? You’re part of this mess, dragging it into our world. We deserve to know.”
“A deception sorcerer has taken personal interest in me. That’s who I’ve been fighting in Darkside, well half the time. It has nothing to do with Penny Lane. She’s a charming girl, but I find myself unable to overcome my original distaste for witches in general.”
“You own each other. That’s not going to just go away,” Wit hissed. “She’s not the only one who’s going to be left pathetic and miserable in the rain, Drake. If you don’t have regular physical contact with the witch holding your bond it will hurt you beyond compare.”
“How you hurt Ian. I did watch him suffer. Not entirely appealing, but pain is proof that we’re still alive. I might not be certain otherwise.”
I walked past them, done with the conversation even though they were probably considering an alliance. I couldn’t tell Penny Lane that I’d left because I couldn’t protect her. She would never marry another mage if she knew I loved her. My chest ached. Maybe I should have contacted Rhoda instead of Viney to come and rescue Penny, but Viney was solid, predictable, a friend more than a fan.
I was halfway to my room when Ian dropped in beside me. “Wit and Viney uniting to go against the monstrous Drake Huntsman, slayer of hearts. How did it go? Are you quite reformed?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Possibilities.”
“Beg your pardon?”
“That’s what Mitch called Penny. I don’t think he’s currently working with Sooth.” I raised the small vial I’d been working on in the lab. “I’m going hunting. I’d invite you to join me, but I have no intention of sharing.”
Ian raised his eyebrows. “Impressive. You figured that out on your own? Find the sorcerer, kill him? Sorcerers are very hard to kill. Why don’t I come? I promise to only watch.”
I shrugged. “I could use you as a source.”
“What’s mine is yours. Are you certain this is a good idea, Drake? He’s a deception sorcerer that has been toying with you for a while. He knows exactly how to manipulate you.”
“I don’t particularly care.”
“Ah, a suicide mission? Excellent. Don’t think I’m him and try to kill me, all right? Maybe I shouldn’t go. Why am I so generous?”
I grabbed his neck and pulled him with me throughside, into the pale sands that burned the eyes as they reflected the red-hot sun. The burning lands. I paced out the pattern for two hours while Ian sat in a lawn chair beneath a large umbrella drinking cool drinks. Finally, when the sun was setting, I opened the vial and sprinkled the liquid onto the central design. Green flared through the entire pattern while the concoction bubbled and chased down the lines.
I closed my eyes and could see the pattern on my eyelids, a highly stylized map of Darkside. The sorcerer. There. I didn’t think twice but stepped Throughside, Ian barely grabbing my sleeve in time.
We came out in Deadside. I stood beside Ian, staring at the shelled out buildings, nothing stirring in the sporadic breeze besides bits of fabric in the shadows of the broken structures.
I walked over the pitted and cracked ground while the wind tugged on my jacket. Deadside was the home of most Necromancer Sorcerers. They preferred the dead to the living. Those piles of rags were probably zombies, holding to the shadows until night fell. It was coming soon. I sniffed the air and of course smelled death, but that heap of flapping fabric smelled alive.
I walked over and yanked it up until a kid dangled down, his black eyes bright and angry in his pale face. I squinted at him. Was he Sooth?
He kicked me, very narrowly missing a tender place. “You don’t belong here. This place is for the Necromancers, not you pretty Daysider.”
“And you’re a Necromancer?” I asked, studying him with interest. “You’re a little young to have a zombie horde, aren’t you?” I put him down and brushed off his incredibly filthy garb which only managed to send a puff of dust into the air.
He stood tall, eyes brighter than ever. He was adorable. He reminded me of Señor Mort right before he bit my face. Penny Lane. I closed my eyes for a moment while my chest ached.
It took me a moment to open my eyes and study him.
“I’ll pay you ten times what the deception Sorcerer is. He probably won’t pay you anything. You know how they are. You think you’re getting paid, but they’re doing it out of your own funds, and cutting themselves a percentage while they’re at it.”
He frowned. “You’re a bills collector?”
Ian whispered low, “Why is he speaking English?”
That was the first I’d noticed. I glanced at Ian and then back at the child. “I have come to collect a debt, yes.”
“He stole money from you?”
“Money, armies, property, quite a bit. How did your English get so good? Have you been to Dayside?”
His face went even more sullen, which I hadn’t thought possible, dark eyes intense against his pale skin. He had a lot of expression for a Darksider. Ah. He wasn’t. “By any chance, was your father the human Necromancer everyone was trying to get rid of?”
He blinked at me and then attacked. The zombie horde was quite impressive. The ground opened up and out came a stream of rotting, noxiou
s flesh.
I grabbed the kid, hand firmly around his throat. “If you’re half human, you’re a Daysider. It’s natural for you to feel conflicted. You’re not crazy or pathetic when you feel things, when you care about your monsters.”
“My father wasn’t human!” he screamed, pounding me with his little fists. I’d have bruises.
His father was definitely human. “How did the Deception Sorcerer find you? Also, if you keep this up, I’ll just kill you and then all your pet zombies. It takes time to gather up such a fine collection. There are some preservation spells I could teach you. Without the raw magic of a Darksider, you’ll need tricks.”
“I don’t need tricks.” He was like one of those Horror movie possessed children, eyes black to the rim of his lids, pale-faced and convulsing. I put him to sleep, took over his zombies and sent them to bed as well. They sank back into the earth, crust covering them while I tossed the boy to Ian. He caught him and frowned at me.
“What are you going to do with him?”
I shrugged. “He’s a Daysider.”
“A Necromancer Daysider. He can’t go running around earth gathering up corpses. You know that.”
“I think his father’s one of my clients. I’ll ask him what he wants to do with him.”
“You think a human could possibly raise this?” He lifted the bundle of rags with a curl of his lips.
I shrugged and turned away from him. He’d fought the human Necromancer with me. He knew perfectly well what he was capable of. I sniffed and stepped carefully over the ground. Knowing it held thousands of zombies made the walk from one cracked building to another slightly more exciting. The sorcerer was in my nostrils, my veins, just ahead of me, over that rise through the abandoned village, well, abandoned of the living.
The hut on the outskirts of the town had a goat on the roof. It raised its blood-red eyes as it chewed a mouthful of ash-coated sod. I inhaled deeply and blew like the big bad wolf. The hut shimmered and melted into a different kind of building. It reminded me of Penny’s mother’s house, tall, sharp-roofed and gingerbreaded, but this house was painted a cheerful, sunny yellow.
Blooming Black: Rosewood Academy of Witches and Mages (Darkly Sweet Book 4) Page 27
