The Uncanny Raven Winston

by Tammie Painter

  I removed the Silencing Spell and propped my door open. In the time it took Mr. Tenpenny to get to my room, I’d managed to tame my hair into something that didn’t look like it had been ravaged by a drunken pixie in the middle of the night. Mr. T gave a light tap on the door and then entered.

  "Oh good, you’re ready."

  "Ready for what?"

  "Oh no, you really didn’t hear, did you? You’re not supposed to make the Silencing Spell so strong. What if there’d been an emergency?"

  "Would you get to the point?"

  "You’re being tested in," he glanced at the bedside clock, "about twenty minutes."

  "They can’t do that. I’m supposed to have the test tomorrow. I’m not ready."

  "Olivia announced last night that you were."

  Of course, Olivia the Neck Kisser. I guess when she wanted someone out of her way, she really wanted them out of her way.

  "Who am I up against?"

  "I still don’t know." He paused. "Look, I know I’ve been hard on you at times, and I had meant to work more closely with you while we were here, but I think you do have a lot of talent. It is entirely unethical and unfair for them to test you like this, and I promise if you fail I will appeal any decision to extract you. It’s ridiculous this tribunal won’t give you more time."

  "Those aren’t exactly encouraging words, but thank you. For what it’s worth, I’m glad I brought you back from the dead. Twice."

  "Which is why I owe you a chance at life."

  He hesitated, clearly fighting with his instinct to remain composed and aloof. I didn’t let him. I blame the stress and the emotional confusion for the upcoming un-Cassie-like act of spontaneous affection. I pulled Mr. T into a hug. I even thanked him, but I don’t really know why. His words completely freaked me out. He knew I’d fail today.

  We broke out of the embrace, both of us looking sheepish and uncomfortable. I hurriedly asked after Rafi, and Mr. T seemed relieved for the change of subject.

  "To tell the truth, I think he’s perfectly fine, but the Medi Unit at the Tower provides some of the most attentive care and comfortable beds you can find in the magic world."

  "So you’re saying I’ve been worried he might die and he’s been milking it?"

  "It’s practically a vacation for him." Mr. T patted my arm stiffly. "You should get dressed now. I’ll meet you at the arena portal. You’ll—?"

  "I won’t run off, if that’s what you’re about to ask. You guys would just track me down anyway."

  With a shrug, Mr. T agreed then left me to finish getting dressed. I hurried, but still took time to make myself presentable. No sense going to your doom without applying a couple layers of mascara first.

  I glanced toward the window, looking for Winston. When I didn’t see any hint of black feathers, I took a deep breath and left my room, wondering if it would be for the last time.

  I was halfway down the spiral stairs, when I came face to face with Tobey. My cheeks flared with embarrassment and it took a mountain of effort to force myself to meet his eyes. Oddly enough, he showed none of the discomfort that was threatening to turn me into a clumsy heap of bones.

  "Look, about yesterday," I said.

  "What about it?"

  Okay, so that’s how we’re going to play it.

  "Nothing, it was just unexpected and we should forget it happened."

  He gave me a look that reminded me very much of when Pablo sees me eating ice cream and can’t figure out why I’m not giving him any. Tobey then shook his head and rolled his eyes as if this was just another one of Cassie’s typical nonsensical moments.

  "Anyway," he said as he changed direction and we wound our way down the stairs, "it’s weird they’re testing you again so soon. Grandpa says it’s not fair. And, I guess I agree. I just wanted to wish you luck and hope there aren’t any hard feelings between us."

  I’d been keenly aware of something very hard between us the day before, but I bit back saying so. Instead, I shrugged and said, "It’s fine."

  "So, anyway," he said awkwardly when we got to the hallway that would take us to the arena portal, "the V & A has late hours tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to go."

  Every single one of these words came out so fast I might have wondered if Tobey was practicing to become an auctioneer. Might have, that is, if I hadn’t been dumbstruck by the idea that he was asking me out. Again.

  "I might be brainless by tonight."

  "They won’t do it today. I mean, I’m sure you’ll do great, but if you don’t, Grandpa says an appeal will be made. That means you’ll have a reprieve of at least a few days. So, what do you say?"

  "Let me think about it. I’ve got a lot on my mind right now."

  Why this? Why now? I did not need so much weirdness in so little time. I did not need to be in some stupid love triangle/emotional roller coaster with Temperamental Tobey and Adulterous Alastair. First and foremost, I didn’t even like Tobey in that way. Second, I needed to magic the poop out of whoever they put me up against. Then I needed to find my parents without getting captured by the Mauvais. I also needed to get back to my job before Daisy dazzled Mr. Wood any further. And once all that was done, maybe I could find time to sort out my love life.

  When we reached the arena portal, Mr. T greeted us, seeming pleased to see us together.

  "All ready?" he asked.

  "Not really," I replied, glancing around to see if anyone else was going through with us.

  "Don’t worry. Alastair is waiting on the other side."

  Which was exactly the news I did not want to hear.

  43 - CUPCAKES AND DAHLIAS

  WHEN I STEPPED through the portal from the Tower to the Guildhall arena’s hallway, Alastair was indeed waiting. I was more than ready to give him some arctic-level cold shoulder, but in stark contrast to the dismally grey walls, he held out a bouquet of brightly-colored dahlias.

  "What are these?" I asked, making no effort to take the orange and yellow bouquet.

  "Most people know them as flowers. I’ve heard they’re often liked by female humans and seen as a welcome gift."

  "Then give them to Olivia."

  "What?" Alastair paused and dropped the dahlias to his side. "Why?"

  "Because I saw you with her yesterday," I said, walking off in the direction of the arena.

  "Of course you did," he said, keeping pace with me. His voice revealed no hint of guilt. What was it with men? "You were there when she showed up to her office. After you left, Olivia spoke with me about the forged files and about your test. I told her you deserved more time and she agreed, but she said there’s some tribunal that’s pressured her to test you without delay. She told me she had no choice."

  "Yeah, I’ll bet she was persuasive. Did you put up much of an argument, or was your mouth too busy nibbling on her neck?"

  "What? Cassie, no. Olivia would probably drop kick me if I did that. What are you on about?"

  I’m not great with people, but I do have a good instinct for when they’re being lying sacks of crap. Alastair wasn’t lying. He was genuinely confused by my accusations.

  "How did she smell?"

  "Cassie, this is ridiculous. I really like you. More than like," he added sotto voce. "But I can’t take the jealousy and suspicion you’ve been throwing at me lately. I’ve done nothing to—"

  "Alastair," I said firmly. "How did she smell? Like Olivia? Like perfume? Like cigarettes? What?"

  "To me, Olivia’s magic smells like ripe apples. That’s what she’s smelled like since we’ve been here. Cassie, you are at risk, but not everyone is out to get you. Olivia is not the Mauvais." His brow furrowed and the firm, yet caring tone grew serious. "What exactly did you see?"

  By then, we had reached the hall at the end of which was the darkened arena. Olivia, who had been speaking with Mr. Tenpenny, caught sight of us, abruptly ended her chat with Busby, and str
ode toward me. She barely glanced at Alastair before handing me a cupcake. I took it, looking at it warily, as if it might be laced with arsenic or filled with spider eggs or something.

  "Eat it quick," she said in a commanding whisper. "And don’t tell anyone I gave it to you. I can’t believe they’re going through with—" Before she could finish this cryptic statement, a bell chimed a cheery, five-note tune. "It’s time."

  Olivia turned on her three-inch heels and clicked her way toward the arena. I looked at Alastair, he was staring at the arena entrance, a fretful expression intense on his face. He returned his attention to me. The deep worry softened, but only slightly.

  "You better eat that," he said.

  I sniffed the treat and could detect nothing but deliciousness coming off it. I crammed the cupcake into my mouth. The spongy, chocolate cake and sweet, creamy interior delighted my tongue, and my magic sparkled inside me as I chewed and swallowed.

  Alastair took advantage of my moment of bliss and swiped his finger to remove some frosting from the corner of my mouth. He leaned forward as if to kiss me, hesitated, then decided against it. But he didn’t lean back. With his eyes locked on mine, he whispered, "Much more than like, okay?"

  My throat went tight and my eyes did that stupid prickling thing. I swallowed hard as if I could gulp down any tears trying to make themselves seen. Unable to speak, I nodded and walked with him down the final length of the hall.

  Once we entered the arena, it took my eyes a few moments to adjust to the dark. A cold blue light orb hovered over the arena floor like a spotlight. The only other points of illumination were floating dots of fairy lights that reminded me of the slivery flecks in the beads at the ends of Olivia’s braids.

  With a shaky voice, Alastair wished me luck, told me to keep my head, reminded me to stay in control. He paused, and for a few seconds I thought he might stay with me, but in too little time, he strode away, the forlorn bouquet rustling with his steps.

  I wanted to go after him, to grab his hand and run with him back to the portal to Portland, but I was too confused. I honestly didn’t know what I had seen the day before, what had truly happened, who to trust. So, before I could go to him, before I could reach for his hand to at least get one of the reassuring squeezes I’d grown accustomed to, he had disappeared into the dark.

  There was nothing for it. Like a criminal from Ancient Rome, my fate would be decided in the arena. On shaky legs, I stepped into the center of the sandy oval.

  My eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but the silence of the space sent shivers through me. I had expected the chatters and murmurs and cheers I’d heard last time, but for this round of the Cassie Games all was quiet.

  I scanned the seats. They were full to capacity. Full of people with pitying looks on their faces. They did not look like people who expected to see me walk out of here a happy woman. The cupcake hung like a stone just below my sternum and I imagined myself hurling the thing up whole like a mother raven feeding her chicks.

  From the walkway behind me came footsteps. Quiet, soft steps like a cat walking over gravel. My legs felt rooted to the arena floor. Behind me was the person HQ had decided would test me to my limits. The person who would do everything possible to see me fail.

  "Cassie Black, turn and face your opponent," came Olivia’s voice.

  I turned. My heart sank. It was dark enough in the arena that she didn’t need her sunglasses, nor her umbrella, but she still wore her usual long-sleeved, gauzy dress.

  44 - THE OPPONENT

  BANNA.

  One of the original Magics. A witch who’d had centuries to gain skill and build her already substantial power. This was grossly unfair. I darted my gaze around the perimeter of the arena. My eyes caught a flash of yellow dahlia and then found Alastair’s face. He gave an encouraging smile, but his eyes showed his true anxiety.

  Blood thudded through my ears. My gut churned, the cupcake knocking around in there like a cement block in a tumble dryer. I clenched my hands in a failed attempt to stop them from shaking.

  The door to the arena slammed shut, sending up a few startled cries from the audience.

  There was no getting out of this.

  I returned my focus to Banna.

  We bowed, we took our stances, and it began.

  I was instantly knocked to the floor with what felt like a claw digging into my chest. With a speed that came almost instinctively, I drew the membrane around me. But Banna expected this. She knew what the others had been teaching me. She would know every defensive spell I might conjure.

  She also knew how to make her magic assaults small enough to permeate the membrane. What she threw at me was like being bombarded with microscopic bits of hail. Like hail hitting a rooftop, the magic pellets struck me with stinging force. And as each one bounced off my skin, it ripped out some of my magic.

  Screw subtlety. I threw a magical head butt at Banna. It staggered her back a few paces, but she recovered in a heartbeat.

  I thought of the hail she was sending through my membrane. Using what was essentially a Shoving Charm, I pushed the air around me, and around and around to kick up a whirlwind that spun her wicked pellets away. Banna took all of two seconds to route them back down through the top of my wind funnel. Her pelting magic rained straight down on my head. Each strike stripped away more of my power.

  I was quickly tiring. Hell, they wouldn’t need to extract me if this kept up; Banna was doing the job for them. I flung my wind storm at her fast enough that it sucked the hail pellets off me and right at her. She squealed with pain, but I didn’t relent. I threw another whirlwind at her.

  While she was distracted, while she was regaining her footing, I called up a light orb, my anger causing heat to radiate from it. But I wasn’t looking to earn points for executing the perfect Solas Charm. I reshaped the flame-red ball into a lightning bolt. And, feeling very much like Zeus himself, hurled it toward her. The bright flash from the bolt was enough to cause Banna’s skin to sizzle.

  I could have kept at it. I could have burnt her to a crisp. I was so furious over so many things that I could have kept conjuring and reshaping orbs, using every last scrap of my power to do her in. But that wasn’t the point of the test. The point was to prove I could control myself, to prove I could keep her from taking my magic. Frying my opponent would prove neither of these things. And so I eased back on my attack.

  After several more rounds of back and forth blows, Banna revealed that she’d only been warming up. She gave up playing, she gave up going easy on me, and she directed what seemed like the nozzle of an industrial-strength vacuum at me. I could literally feel my skin stretching and pulling when she started it up.

  You know when you’re in a car and the driver unexpectedly whips around a curve and it seems like all of your weight slams over to one side of your body? That’s how the Banna Vacuum felt. All my magic slammed against the small area where she had concentrated the suction. It hurt. It wore me down. I couldn’t control my magic. I couldn’t keep it in. I couldn’t fight any longer.

  And so, I failed.

  Since it was only a test, Banna returned my magic to me the moment my loss was acknowledged. And let me tell you, that return process hurt more than having the magic sucked out. It was like being jabbed with a hundred syringes tipped with the fattest and dullest needles the doctor could find.

  Still, once my power was back, it was an amazing high.

  The wooziness hadn’t cleared away, but I felt keenly focused. My very bones hummed like I’d been filled with electricity. I was shaking with the certainty that I could take on the world. Shaking so hard in fact, it was a struggle to move without staggering.

  Olivia came up to me, taking my arm and helping me steady myself. Pretending she was checking my eyes, she leaned in and whispered, "This was more than unfair. I thought the cupcake might help, but she’s too strong."

  The wooziness, instead of diminis
hing, had increased, and my head started spinning. Not only from what I’d just gone through, but because this did not mesh with the Olivia who had thrown herself at Alastair, the Olivia who I thought had demanded the test happen today, the Olivia who I’d assumed wanted rid of me. Before I had much time to think, Olivia was stepping back from me, her back rigid. She spoke loudly enough for the crowd to hear.

  "Cassie, by the declaration of Headquarters, you must be extracted to the point of no return." Tears stung the corners of my eyes, not at my fate, but at the tremble in her voice. "You have not proven you can control your magic."