Malignant Transfiguration (Endeavor Series Book 2)

by A E M

  “Back off!” She snapped at him. He stepped back. Her heart chipped a little from the look her gave her, but she turned back to Barnabas. “Who?”

  Barnabas stood and grabbed the edge of the table, his knuckles white. He glared at Charlotte. Alcott stood up, too. “Crispin, Zander, Tomas, Dee, and Matches were all found dead this morning in the courtyard. Also Chime. Spindle is missing. We think he survived, but we don’t know where he is.”

  Charlotte sat down hard in her chair. Chime. Her beautiful childhood best friend was gone. Her head and stomach churned. Phoebe was most likely dead, too. She buried her head in her hands and gulped down a sob.

  “We were very lucky not to have lost more.” Alcott said. “Many were injured, especially once the creatures broke through the barriers.”

  “It’s my fault the barrier was broken.” Charlotte said. She looked up from her hands and wiped the tears from her eyes. The churning wind within her picked up speed.

  Barnabas shook his head at her. His eyes were soft now. “You don’t know that, dear.”

  “I do.” She countered. “I was there.”

  The room was foggy with silence then. Beau sat down and placed his open hand on the table beside her. She stared at the invitation blankly. Alcott and Barnabas sat down, too.

  “Charlotte, remember.” Vincent said to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. She shrugged him off.

  She pictured something then, but it was nothing like what he had suggested. She imagined a dam with a crack racing down the middle. The crack was getting larger, leaking streams of water. She snapped her eyes open as her chair was tipped back and then slammed back down. She grabbed the edge of the table before she fell into it. She looked over at Vincent, who was still holding the back of her chair.

  “Gentlemen,” Vincent said. “Please leave me alone with my apprentice.”

  9

  The Master and the Question

  He remembered when they were children.

  She was loud and busy and demanding, but she cared.

  Once she had shared her lunch with him.

  Another time she had held his hand when he had fallen and twisted his ankle.

  And when he had gotten into a fight with another boy, she had brought him ice afterwards.

  But he knew better than to let her get too close,

  For as soon as the boy with the wings flew in her eyes were full of stars and sky.

  The door closed quietly after the others. Vincent twisted the lock. He slid both of his hands under the top bar of Charlotte’s chair and yanked it back from the table so there was enough room around it for him to do what he needed to do. She didn’t move a muscle. He circled around her first one way, and then the other, calming his mind as he went. He laughed to himself at the nervousness he had felt before his final duel with David. That was nothing compared to trying to tame the woman in front of him. The duel had been a sprint. This was a marathon. Even with her age, it would be years before they would work in unison. He stopped in front of her and leaned against the edge of the table. Charlotte burrowed her clasped hands into her lap and pressed her lips together in a straight line. Their first official day as apprentice and master was a disaster, and the sun was still rising outside the dwarves’ den. He watched her face for an opening, but she kept her eyes focused on something on the wall behind him.

  Why was she closed off now? She had been spitfire in the hallway earlier and then again in the meeting. He probed their bond gently. She didn’t know the truth about the bond between them yet, and it would remain that way for now. Someday he would release the full weight of the bond to her and she would know him. She would know where he was. She would feel what he felt. But for now he kept most of her side of the bond tucked away on his side. There. He felt her nervousness and guilt and it was aimed at him. So she felt bad about sending him to his knees earlier? Good. Right now he had fish to fry in deeper waters, but later he would deal with that.

  “Protégé, you weren’t listening to a bit of what I told you to do. Have I given you any reason to not trust me?”

  Charlotte shook her head no. Her eyes remained fixed, her face expressionless. She was building that wall higher, stacking her thick bricks between them. He understood her wall. He had already had a wall when he started his apprenticeship, but David had obliterated it one brick at a time over the years. Now that he was on this side of the wall, he had a deeper appreciation for the years David had put in.

  “Do you think it okay to be a rude guest?” He asked, keeping his tone open and firm.

  She closed her eyes. “No.”

  Progress. It was only one word, but it was a way in. He stepped forward, leaned down, and put his hands on the armrests behind her arms. “Look at me, Protégé.”

  She flashed her eyes up and stared back at him. There was something there, something in the back of her mind bothering her. Something had to have happened in her mind when she was asleep that had spurred her behavior this morning, and he was determined to find out what. She blinked back the moisture in the sides of her eyes and looked down at her lap.

  He leaned close until his face rested beside hers and his mouth was close enough to her ear for him to whisper. “What is bothering you?”

  She gulped and placed her palm on his sternum and pushed him back. She took a shaky breath and looked back at him. “Why do you insist on invading my space?”

  “Why do you insist on making me invade it to get answers?” He stepped back and leisurely circled the table in the room, hands behind his back.

  His question weighed heavily in the air between them, wrestling with her silence. Charlotte crossed her legs and sat her hands primly back in her lap. Vincent watched her as she studied her hands, traced the edges of the chair, and glanced around the room randomly. She was closer. He walked behind her and placed his right hand on her shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze before he pulled away. He stayed behind her. Her head rose and she turned it slightly to the side toward him.

  “My home was attacked again.” She began. “I lost two of my dearest friends, and several of my hobs. I have been broken, slept little, and I am trying to adjust to having a new brother and having you. What part of that doesn’t make sense to you?” She turned in her chair and dared a look up at him.

  Vincent circled around and pulled a chair from the table and placed it in front of her. He crossed one leg squarely across the other, and stared at her quietly for several minutes, teasing the silence between them. She had told the truth to cover the truth, and he wasn’t having any of it.

  Charlotte shifted in her chair and tucked her hair behind her ears. Vincent swung his legs up onto the armrest of her chair and leaned back in his own chair. She shifted away. He bent his arm on his own armrest and settled his head on his fist. She glared at him, finally, and he knew she was another beat closer. It was dangerous, being this close to the flames and fanning them deliberately. Dangerous, but necessary for survival. He slipped on what he hoped was an adequately stern face. “No, that’s not quite it. You are keeping something back, aren’t you? Don’t bother speaking if it’s not the truth.”

  She did not respond.

  “That’s what I thought.” He admonished her.

  Charlotte shoved his feet off her chair. “Your feet stink. Try some baking soda.”

  He ironed out the twitch of his mouth while he stroked his beard, scolding himself silently for almost smiling at her act. Charlotte rubbed her arm a little and flinched. He caught a glimpse of the swollen black lines surrounded with puffy redness on her arms. He opened a pocket on his thigh pack, and pulled out a small container. “Let’s take care of the mauling you gave yourself earlier.” He yanked her chair close and grabbed her arm, flipping it over and resting it on his knee.

  “Why did you scratch yourself?” He asked as he rubbed the cream into one of her arms. “What was going on in your mind this morning?”

  She stared at him wide eyed and mouth tight. She shivered.

  “Is th
e cream cold?” He asked.

  She shook her head no and turned her face away from him. He started on her other arm. She flinched now when he touched her. He took deep breaths. She was teetering on the edge now, and he didn’t want to get burned. When she closed her eyes and trembled slightly, he knew she was crossing into the source of her magic and anything could happen if he didn’t guide her through it. He shoved the lid on the jar and stuffed it back into his pocket. Her skin started to glow. No. He couldn’t let her pass into the fairy side of her magic just yet.

  “Stop that!” Vincent yelled at her. He stood up and pulled her to her feet. “You don’t dream without permission, do you understand? Not even a daydream.” He hadn’t meant to yell, but at least her eyes had snapped open and the glowing had vanished.

  “Would you please make sense?” She yelled back. There. Something had clicked and the fire was back in her eyes.

  He lowered his voice back to a controlled level. “How am I to make sense if you won’t tell me what’s going on? How am I to solve this mystery if you give me nothing to go on? I see that you have secrets in your eyes, Protégé. You won’t hide them from me. How am I supposed to guide you through this if you won’t trust me?”

  “How am I supposed to trust you?” She wrenched her arm back. “I don’t know you. I don’t know myself anymore. Everything I knew has changed.”

  He scratched the back of his head. “I admit that we don’t have many reasons to trust each other, but I am certain that as time passes we will collect more reasons to do so.” He shrugged. “I know you feel like you don’t know yourself, but the truth is that you are changing. Everybody does that in life. You are who you were. You are who you are now. You are who you will be.”

  She paced back and forth of him as he spoke, keeping her eyes drilled into his. He crossed his arms. He had hated when David had calmly crossed his arms and listened to his tirades, yet here he was continuing the tradition. Charlotte nodded up at him. “How am I supposed to learn anything when it’s always later with you? It’s so hard to breathe as it is between incident after incident.”

  How dare she criticize his teaching before he began! “Don’t you think you are being a little harsh just because I’ve had to tell you ‘later’ a few times in the middle of pandemonium?”

  A smile crossed her lips, and she turned away from him quickly. He slowed his breathing. She had been baiting him. He smiled at her when she turned back around. “I’m sorry I haven’t had time to teach you properly. I’ll more than make up for it, don’t you worry.”

  She glared at him before turning away again with a swish of her hair. She paced again. “I keep losing loved ones. I need to do something. I can’t hide from this. I can’t keep running and hiding.”

  He tapped his fingers on his arms. He would have to wait her out. “Many people are losing loved ones right now, which is why for the moment you need to hide sometimes and learn. When you are strong enough, I promise that you will fight and do whatever you can to help our world overcome this enemy.”

  She narrowed her eyes and got in his face. “I killed. Does that frighten you?” She pressed her gloved finger into his chest. “I burn people; I scar them.” He buried his feet in the ground and kept still. He would not feed her the fear she was prodding him for. She laid her hand back on his chest and pressed her palm into him slightly. “I take a part of them and pull it inside myself.” She dropped her hand and shrugged.

  Vincent grabbed her hands and put them on his face, pressing her palms into his skin by holding his hands over hers. He was thankful for the gloves they both wore, but it was taking every inch of courage he had to hold her hands to his skin for that moment. “It doesn’t frighten me that you have killed; that you have scarred.” He let her hands drop from his face.

  “I’m not even supposed to exist.” Her eyes dropped and her voice wavered. “He said that if there was a Magani Council, that they might not let me live.”

  Who was she referring to? He scooted closer. Her eyes and thoughts were someplace else. He waited until she looked back up at him. “Your existence proves itself and you are borrowing trouble from tomorrow. Who knows how others will react, but shouldn’t you give them a chance to decide how they will react? If they react negatively, it’s their weakness, not yours.” He shook his head condescendingly at her.

  She shook her head back at him firmly. “Back off.”

  So she meant to try to get him to go back on the apprenticeship because she was scared. He stepped forward. “Not a chance.”

  “It’s what’s best for both of us.” She placed her hands on her hips.

  “I decide what’s best for us.” Vincent countered.

  “Good luck with that.” She pushed the chairs back under the table. “Are we done here now?”

  Vincent sighed. “Stop with the bricks, Protégé. I will tear those walls down.”

  He felt her push her magic out through her hand. He threw his arm out and focused his own magic through his ring. It spread out and circled her burst of magic before it could go anywhere. He focused his magic until it wrapped around hers and pulled it into a small ball that he could pull it into himself.

  She threw her arm out and pointed at him. “Look what you’ve gotten yourself into! You could be killed! Want something on your skin? Go get a tattoo! It will probably hurt less.” Her voice was weaker now.

  Vincent stared at her quietly.

  She crossed her own arms in front of her chest and leaned up against the table in front of him. “I’m getting worse. Please get it through your head that you cannot help me.”

  “Are you quite done?” He asked.

  She nodded grudgingly.

  “You are getting worse because you are getting better. This backlash you are experiencing is completely normal, although intense, I admit. Every weaver has gone through this.”

  She looked up at him in surprise. “You did?”

  He smiled. “Yes. So did your brother and your father. You are one of us.”

  Charlotte looked down at the floor quietly. Vincent turned and leaned against the table next to her. He wondered if he had made enough progress. He scooted closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “What are you not telling me? I know there is something else.”

  “You may not want me as an apprentice when you know.” She traced the outline of a lily pad on the table with a shaky finger. “Beau may not want me as a wife once I tell him.”

  “Nonsense on both counts.” He said. “Tell me.”

  “There’s a darkness inside me.” She trembled. “Please, don’t tell anybody. I don’t know how to get rid of it yet. I don’t want it to hurt you or anybody else.”

  “Now you are finally being honest with me.” He stood up and turned to face her. He tipped her face so she had no choice but to look in his eyes. “Listen to me, Protégé.” He said firmly. “I chose you. You don’t scare me. If anything, you should be scared of me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve had your turn to talk, now listen to me. I will help you with the darkness. I cannot do it for you, but I will walk with you.”

  She stared up at him. “Maven?” She asked. “You’ve seen the darkness, haven’t you?”

  10

  The Girl Gets Reminders and Rules

  “Clean your room!” David shouted up the stairs.

  “It’s not my room!” Vincent shouted back. “This is not my home and you are not my family!”

  David paced back and forth in front of the fireplace and clenched his hands. “Vincent!” He yelled up the stairs.

  “I’m coming up those stairs in twenty minutes, and when I do, I’m not coming up there as your master.

  I’m coming up there as your father. You better be cleaning or you better be prepared to accept what I dish out!”

  “You are not my father!” Vincent screamed back.

  David stood still and calmed himself. “You’re right.” He called out.

  “I haven’t been a r
eal father to you, but in about sixty seconds I’m going to be.”

  He heard the sound of the upstairs window being pried open. He paused.

  He would give the boy a head start if only to give himself a moment to calm down before he dragged him home.

  There was a tidal wave of color and emotion for a split second in Vincent’s eyes before it crashed and there remained nothing out of the ordinary. He winked and gave her a small, sad smile. “A story for a later time, Protégé.” He unlocked the door and waved her over.

  Charlotte flinched when he reached up and grabbed her ear. She pressed her lips together and stood silently. The blood was already rushing to her skin, certainly staining her complexion the shade of embarrassment.

  “This is for show.” He said with a tug. “Mainly.” He stepped closer, edged his toes against hers, and lifted her chin again. “I know today is hard. I know you miss your friends. But it’s no excuse. You have a lot of power now. You have to learn to control your emotions or someday you might make a disastrous mistake with your magic.”

  “I understand.”

  “I hope you do.” He held her gaze. “It could mean life or death in the future.”

  She gulped and nodded as much as her ear would allow.

  “Steady up, now. Look repentant and follow along.”

  Charlotte didn’t need a mirror to know that her face was bright red as Vincent marched her down the hallway and stood her in front of the others around the front desk. She was greeted with solemn faces, with the exception of Beau, who did nothing to hide his amusement.

  “My apprentice has something she’d like to say to you all.” Vincent pinched her ear.

  Obnoxious man! Was this really necessary? “I’m sorry.” She said simply. Vincent pressed harder on her ear and she jumped. Beau covered his mouth with his hand, and the others watched her with twitching lips. “Ouch, okay! I’m sorry I acted awful, and was disrespectful and rude in the meeting, and blew up all the light bulbs earlier. It won’t happen again.”

  “Thank you.” Barnabas said. Alcott nodded. Carroll smiled. Beau winked.