by Kaylin Lee
“Fine. See yourself out. And don’t be late again.”
I nodded and left, my back stiff. Either Weslan would help Ella sell the bakery in three weeks, after we’d left, or we’d get the extra money another way. But I wouldn’t give Inspector Cyrus any more leverage over our family.
I rushed the whole way back to the bakery, holding in my trace the last few blocks, and I nearly collapsed when I made it inside the front door.
The scent of bacon and eggs wafted toward me from the kitchen. Ella and Weslan must have cooked breakfast while I was out. I approached the kitchen. I had to face her. I had to look her in the eye, knowing what I’d almost done … I swallowed another sob.
At least I would get to say good-bye. I had to hold onto that thought. It was the only thing that distracted me from the truly terrifying question still lurking in the back of my mind—which mage was the real Zel? The old Zel, or the new one?
~
Weslan slumped across the table from me, his blond hair hanging in sweaty clumps over his forehead. We were both baking in the sweltering upstairs room. I’d sent the twins downstairs to help Ella with the bakery while Weslan and I ostensibly had a chat about his employment. In reality, we were working on the plan to get the twins safely settled in the Mage Division after I turned myself in. It was also a chance to gain new, insider information about the Mage Division. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to improve my plan.
I traced my finger on the rivulets of water condensing on the outside of my glass. Weslan had been silent long enough. “Well? The Mage Division. What is the process for bringing in new mages?”
He shifted restlessly. “I don’t know. Trust me, I want to help. I do. I just never paid attention to those things before.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Every mage starts at the Mage Academy when their powers first exhibit. For some, that’s six or seven. I was five. For others, it’s eight or nine, but no older than ten. But Alba and Bri are almost thirteen, right?”
I nodded.
He stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders, pausing for another moment of thought. “Still, the fact that everyone comes at a different age means they must have some way to evaluate the mages first. And not everyone’s power is easy to classify. It also depends on their mental aptitude for the field of study. A strong expellant mage might make a poor grower but a powerful mover, for example. Someone in authority on the Mage Division must make the decision about which classification they’ll train in, which means they must evaluate the childrens’ powers and aptitude firsthand.”
I leaned forward. “So the twins need to prove their powers, but in a way, that confirms they didn’t realize they had them until now. We’ll need to make sure they can show potential without demonstrating familiarity with it. Or they’ll fall under suspicion.”
Weslan frowned, but he nodded. “You’re probably right. Mages as old as the twins almost never come to the campus for the first time. They’ll already be suspicious. And I know you don’t want to hear this, but it doesn’t look good for two ‘friends’ to discover their powers at the same mature age. I don’t know much about anything on the authority side of things, but even I would be suspicious.”
I shook my head and went back to tracing droplets of water on my glass. “There’s no help for it. Alba can’t go into the city alone. She will be so anxious when she reaches the Mage Division that I fear she’ll give herself away. I want to believe they won’t punish my children for keeping my secret, but …” I fell silent.
Weslan wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “I know. I know. They have to go together. We’ll think of something.”
A series of stomping footsteps pounded up the staircase. A moment later, Ella flung the door open. She stopped in the doorway and leveled a fierce glare at Weslan. “What are you doing? I told you I needed help with the kneading.”
“The twins can—”
“Well, I told you to do it. And just why are you lounging upstairs and letting children do your work for you?”
I stood up. “Ella …”
She kept her glare fixed on Weslan, but her pink cheeks indicated she knew she was out of line. My victory in getting Inspector Cyrus to agree to a late payment last week hadn’t improved her anger and bitterness. If anything, she was more anxious than before. No matter how many times I assured her that everything would work out, she couldn’t relax, and she was taking her nerves out on Weslan.
“Fine. I’m coming.” Weslan stood up and shouldered his way past Ella. She scowled and followed him, slamming the door shut behind her.
I slumped back at the table and sighed. Ella was exhausted, and she was hurting. I understood that. She was so lost in her despair and frustration that she couldn’t see what was so obvious to the rest of us—Weslan was hurting too.
He’d been humiliated by his Procus patron, cast out by the only community he’d ever known, and lost access to his family and friends. He was penniless and dependent on a family of commoners for his daily room and board. Unless the Mage Division rescinded his expulsion, his best bet for survival in the long term lay in the Badlands, a fate I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
Ella simply couldn’t see past her own pain. What would he do when she finally pushed him too far? She didn’t realize how much we needed him, much less how much she needed him. How could I make her understand?
Later that night, the twins were asleep, and I was just getting ready for bed when the kitchen door slammed. Weslan had come home late.
A rumble of angry voices reached me through the open window below mine. Ella’s voice was shrill and furious, Weslan’s low and slurred. I wrapped my robe around my body and flicked my long braid over my shoulder. Should I intervene or wait? I paused, straining to hear their words, but it was too hard to make out the conversation. Then Weslan gave a roar of rage. Not good at all.
I rushed down the stairs and entered the kitchen. Ella cowered against the far counter while Weslan stood on the other side of the kitchen, his chest heaving, his jacket on the floor beside him. What had happened? What had he done? Why did she look so frightened? If he’d hurt her—
“Weslan.” I let the threat in my voice fill the room.
His shoulders sagged, shame and guilt weighing down his normally proud face.
I rushed to Ella and stood in front of her, facing Weslan and using my body to shield Ella. I’d been ready to depend on Weslan, but if Ella couldn’t trust him, all our planning would be in vain. He’d never be able to help her. He’d promised me he would put her needs first, and now he’d gone back on his word. From the despairing look in his eyes, he knew it.
He left in silence, shutting the door quietly on his way out.
~
For three days, we heard nothing from Weslan. Ella was killing herself trying to run the bakery without his help. How would I ever be able to leave her in such a state? Why had she antagonized him so much? If only I’d stepped in sooner, instead of letting it get to such a point.
I considered sending Bri out to see if she could sense any hint of his trail, but on the fourth day, I caught sight of Weslan walking down the alley behind the bakery at twilight.
He was thinner and dirtier, his hair matted against his head, his clothing filthy. When he’d first come to the bakery, he’d used his magic to keep his appearance immaculate most of the time, even when he was in the middle of kneading dough. Gradually, he’d given up the practice, and now it looked as though he hadn’t even found a way to wash. At least he was still alive—that was something. From the raw, desperate look on his face, he was here to beg forgiveness. Would Ella forgive him?
I hovered at the edge of the roof as he knocked on the door. Should I go downstairs to make sure everything went smoothly? I twisted the folds of my dress and paced on the roof as he entered the kitchen, and I lost sight of him.
No, Ella needed to handle this by herself. She wasn’t in any danger from him. I’d known it the moment he left, and I’d regretted frightening him away. He was her bes
t chance for survival. He was loyal and trustworthy. He would help her, if for no other reason than to honor his promise to me. But if she wouldn’t accept him or if she refused to trust him, then it would never work out.
I forced myself to stay on the roof and finish harvesting the last of our cucumbers and green beans. Several minutes passed, and the kitchen was too quiet for me to hear what they were saying. I took my time arranging the small cucumbers in their basket, and then I couldn’t take it any longer. I stripped off my dirty gloves, tossed them on top of the cucumbers, and went downstairs.
From the base of the stairs, I caught a glimpse of Ella and Weslan sitting face to face, on opposite sides of the kitchen table. No tears or shouting yet. That had to be a good sign.
I entered the kitchen just as Ella uttered a soft, foreign word, her face awed and eyes wide. Weslan tensed at the sound, and it took me a moment to recognize the power in the word. His True Name. She’d spoken his True Name. No, no, no! She couldn’t! He couldn’t. His True Name?
“Oh, Ella, Weslan … what have you done?”
I nearly retched on the floor in front of them. As one, they faced me. Weslan grimaced, but Ella’s face reflected confusion. Keep it together. “Go to bed. I’ll speak with each of you in the morning.” I couldn’t bear to look at them any longer. I went back up the stairs, fighting to keep my dinner down. How could she?
That night, I barely slept. It was my fault. I’d never told her about True Names. I didn’t want to speak of them, didn’t want to ruin her innocence any more than I already had, and I didn’t want her to worry more about my secret. If she’d known how completely the Wasp Queen could control me, she would have had nightmares for months.
I’d told the girls about their True Names so they would know what to expect. They had nothing to fear from giving up their True Name. The conversation made my stomach hurt, but it was true. They would be safe. They might be controlled in service to the city, but at least they would be provided for. And they wouldn’t be forced to kill anyone. It was better than the fate that awaited me.
Should I have told Ella after all? I hadn’t wanted to frighten her, but keeping her ignorant had backfired. Perhaps she wasn’t frightened enough of getting involved in mage business. Whatever had Weslan been thinking?
I rolled to my side and squeezed my blanket in my fists. I had to calm down by morning. I couldn’t let her know how close I was to losing my mind and falling apart completely. For Ella, I had to stay strong.
~
The next morning, I lectured Ella and Weslan separately. I reminded Weslan of his promise not to pursue Ella, and he agreed readily enough. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t very concerned about keeping the promise. Was he counting on Ella to make the first move? She wouldn’t do that. She hated him … didn’t she?
Regardless, things between them changed. Ella welcomed him back. He helped with the bakery, and she didn’t rip him apart every chance she got. The rest of the day passed in harmony and goodwill. The next day, Ella and Weslan surprised the twins with a birthday cake, and the easy camaraderie between them was a dramatic change from the antagonism she’d shown since he arrived.
I could no longer deny the truth. Ella was ready. It was time. I had to tell her we were leaving. I went to bed and promised myself I’d find the words before I slept.
The next morning, the words still hadn’t come. I hastily ate a small breakfast alone at my vanity before retreating to the roof to pace in the morning sun. I pulled my braid over my shoulder and twisted it with one hand, breathing in the scent of dirt and tomatoes.
I had to find the words … the right words, the perfect words. Ella, thank you for all that you’ve done for us. We love you dearly. But it’s time for us to—
We have to—
We can’t risk staying here anymore, letting you do all the work to provide for us.
No, that would make her think we were leaving because of her. She’d be even more devastated. The twins are too old to stay—
I strangled a groan and flung open the door to downstairs. I had to get this over with. The words would be the wrong ones, but perhaps she’d see on my face that I loved her. Hopefully, she would understand I wasn’t abandoning her because I wanted to but because it was the right thing to do. And it was.
When I entered the kitchen, Ella greeted me with a brilliant smile lighting her face. “You’re never going to believe this.”
I’d hear her story, and then I’d tell her. I breathed a sigh of relief at the short reprieve. “Morning, dear. Believe what?”
She dropped a heavy pouch onto the table. The dull clank of coins caught my attention.
I glanced inside. What was she talking about? “What is this? Where did you get this?”
“You know how, last night, Weslan said my cake was so good that we could sell it?”
Nervous butterflies danced in my stomach. I listened with half an ear, mentally preparing my speech at the same time. We love you, but it’s time for the twins to … No, that didn’t sound right. “It was good. You're a talented cook.”
“Well, this morning, I made another cake. Actually, I made a whole bunch of small cakes with Weslan’s help. And then I sold them in the street before anyone was even down for breakfast. All the students and workers on their way out of the quarter snatched them up. I sold out before a half hour had passed! Can you believe it?”
She was halfway through her story before her words sunk in. Wait—she’d sold mage-craft cakes out in the open? “They bought them all?” All thoughts of revealing my decision to leave fled my mind.
Ella frowned. “Yes. I charged low prices, so I guess it was an easy sell. But we made more than enough money to cover the cost of the ingredients, and Weslan used some of the profit to buy more ingredients for breakfast today. And the best part is—”
“Hold on. You sold them in front of the bakery?” She could have drawn trackers right to our door, and I never would have gotten the chance to say good-bye! “What were you thinking?”
“What are you talking about? I thought you would be happy! We finally made money.”
“I told you not to worry about it, Ella! I had it covered.” My cheeks flared with heat, and I pulled at the end of my braid, twisting it around my fingers. “Money is fine, sure. But not at the risk of giving away our safety here. You could’ve led any tracker to our door with the kind of attention you must've drawn.”
Ella flinched as though I’d slapped her, and I cringed inwardly.
I’d almost lost her. And now I’d lost the nerve to tell her the truth. Furious and ashamed, I spun on my heel and fled.
Chapter 20
Ella and Alba lay side by side on Alba’s bed, flipping through the pages of the Herald and dissecting Ella’s latest dress at the market. “Was it more like this one?” Alba asked, “or this one?” They lay on their stomachs, huddled over the newspaper, their feet swinging in unison as though they’d coordinated their movements. Weslan had been using his power as an appearance mage to transform her ragged clothes into beautiful ballgowns at the market every day, and Alba couldn’t stop asking about them.
Weslan’s dramatic magical displays each morning had drawn masses of customers to their stand at the market, and they’d made up the initial investment with surprising speed. I’d realized from the first day how wrong I’d been about Ella’s plan. It was risky, but it was working. It would change everything for her.
I fixed my attention back on the bakery’s books. Ella had meticulously recorded her daily expenses and sales at the market stall, and even when I deducted money to set aside for our meals, water, luminous, and other necessities, we were swimming in marks. Thanks to her bakery stall, we would be able to pay off Cyrus, including the generous late fee I’d promised, within the next two days.
I heaved a sigh. Still, she would never be safe as long as I lived in the bakery. Whether she kept the bakery or not, the twins and I had to leave.
Ella and Alba were los
t in their conversation about dresses. How many more moments would they have as sisters? I couldn’t watch any longer.
I got up and went downstairs to the kitchen. Weslan slumped at the table, devouring yet another bowl of victus. He exhausted himself every day helping Ella with the stand. I didn’t dare confront him. He was only doing what I’d hoped he would do when I hired him—putting her needs first and helping her survive.
Even better, their new stall at the market had given her a fresh interest in life. She’d lost her future in government work, but with Weslan’s help, she’d gained a new dream for the bakery. She was far happier now than she’d ever been at the Royal Academy. At least when we paid the fine, she’d have a choice about whether to continue here or not.
Weslan truly had helped her heal from the attack. Ella’s scar still ran angrily down the side of her face, a stark, jagged line from temple to jaw, but the lightness in her step and the persistent, genuine smile on her face made her lovelier than ever. No doubt Weslan had noticed too. I just hoped he’d remember his promise and keep his hands to himself.
“Weslan.”
He straightened slightly. “Yes?”
I searched his face. Why had I come downstairs? Perhaps I simply couldn’t bear to observe Ella and Alba in what could be one of their last sisterly moments.
“Nothing. I just …” I trailed off and joined him at the kitchen table. “Soon. Ella is better, thanks to you. We’ll be able to pay off Cyrus in a day or two. I’m going to leave as soon as we do. You can send the twins out, once the furor of my surrender dies down. Hopefully, no more than a week or two later. If the authorities don’t believe the twins’ story of hiding in the Badlands and they send trackers to search the city for my trace, I don’t want the twins or Ella here when they come to the bakery.”
He nodded solemnly. “Does Ella know?”
I folded my fingers together. Then, I unfolded them. I’d wanted to tell her, I just …
