by Izzy Shows
“I didn’t, either,” I said, laughing. “It just sort of happened. We’re connected to one another—bonded, so to speak. He’s very intelligent and very sweet.”
Weylyn’s tail began to wag, and he hopped off the couch to trot over to Shawn. He lifted a paw and placed it on Shawn’s leg. Shawn lifted a brow, and then, of all the absurd things, shook the dog’s paw.
“Very nice to meet you too,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Very intelligent, indeed.”
Weylyn returned to me, but he curled up at my feet this time so there was space on the couch. Emily immediately moved into it, throwing her arm around me, her side pressed against mine. Her body heat spread through me. She felt so light and warm and generally good, and I thrilled at the contact. I wondered if she knew the effect she had on me, or if it was entirely one-sided on my part.
“You seem a bit preoccupied,” she said, keeping her voice low. I realised then why she was so close to me—she wanted to talk to me without the others hearing.
It was a little rude, and I was a bit surprised that she would do something like that while we had company.
I turned to look at her. “I don’t want to get into it right now,” I said. I couldn’t lie to Emily and tell her that I was fine or that everything was going to be OK. I didn’t know how everything was going to go, and I didn’t want another lie on my conscience.
“OK. If you need anything from me, please let me know.”
“Right now, what I need is to have a good normal night with my friends.”
She laughed and then shifted so she wasn’t as close to me as before, and both of us turned our attention back to the group as a whole. Several hours passed with the lot of us getting fabulously drunk and recounting ridiculous stories of things we had done together, battles we had fought.
I almost hit Finn once when he told a particularly embarrassing story about me losing my cool while I was hustling pool. Gods, I hadn’t done that in so long, I wasn’t sure I would still be able to pull it off, but in the old days, that had been one of my primary sources of income.
Funny how life can change so quickly, and how you don’t pay attention to it as much as you should.
As the night began to wind down, we paired off a bit, so it happened to be Emily and I talking while Shawn and Finn chatted. I could feel Shawn’s gaze on me after a few minutes, and when I turned to look at him, I couldn’t quite make out the emotion on his face.
I raised an eyebrow, and he nodded at the door.
“Excuse me,” I said to Emily, and got up from the couch.
Emily and Finn shared a look as Shawn and I went outside. I didn’t know what was going on, but, apparently, everyone else did.
“What’s up?” I shoved my hands into my pockets, feeling a little uncomfortable.
“You’ve been withdrawing from me,” he said. “All night, you’ve seemed to make a point of not talking directly to me. I don’t know if that’s subconscious or not, but I thought it was about time we addressed the issue.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I muttered, and still I couldn’t look him in the eye.
“I see the way you look at Emily,” he said softly. “You deserve to go after her, if that’s what you want to do. And I know you can’t do that while we keep hanging out. I don’t know why you’re pulling back. I don’t know if it’s because of Emily or not, but I always told you I wouldn’t ask for more than you can give. I think you’re done giving, and that’s OK. It won’t change anything about our friendship.”
Tears pricked at my eyes as I looked up at him. “How is it that you’re this understanding?” A weak laugh escaped me. “I’ve never met a man like you.”
He shrugged. “I’ve always put a lot of stock in honesty, and I’ve never understood others’ need for drama. If you’re ready to move on, you’re ready to move on, and all I can do is wish you the utmost happiness in wherever you decide to go with that. But, Blair?”
I arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
“I think you should give it a go,” he said, grinning at me. “The two of you are pretty cute together.”
My cheeks flushed, and I darted a look down at the ground again. “I don’t think it would work,” I said quietly. “She’s so…”
“Yeah,” he said, letting out a breath. “That kind of light can be intimidating. But you deserve as much happiness as anyone else in the world. I hope you give yourself that chance.”
“Thanks, Shawn. I appreciate that.”
He stepped forward and wrapped me in a warm embrace. It was then that I realised that this wasn’t an ending at all, just the beginning of a new chapter. I’d been such a fool to fear what would happen to our friendship when I ended things with Shawn—but then again, had he been the one who’d ended it?
We went back into the house to rejoin the party.
One last night with my friends.
Forty Three
I was standing before the High Council again, doing my best not to sweat buckets. Today, there would be two final trials, and I had no idea what they were going to be. The Chancellor had intimated that they’d be difficult, which was why I’d been so anxious the previous night.
After all that I’d gone through with the trials that had come before, why was I so afraid of the last two? Surely, they would be like clearing the pool table, just as the others had been, although there’d been a few bad shots somewhere in the middle.
I sighed. There was nowhere to go but through. I couldn’t avoid the trials; I could only endure them.
“As we have said, today marks the end of the trials, and once they have been completed, we will deliberate on your performance and whether you will be allowed to train,” the Chancellor said.
Hm. I had thought that simply getting through them would be enough to prove myself worthy, but, apparently, there was going to be some sort of grading process. I hoped that Weylyn was going to earn me a stellar grade—after all, that wolf was huge. I wished he could be here with me now, but the First Hand had said I wasn’t allowed to bring him or the staff back for the final trials this morning.
I let out a frustrated breath, waiting for them to get to the point.
“This trial may or may not be difficult for you,” the Chancellor said. “It is a trial of mental acuity, a riddle.” He gestured with one hand, and the floor behind me rumbled.
I turned around to find a statue standing at the far end of the room, guarding a door I hadn’t seen before. I narrowed my eyes—what mental acuity test lay before me?
“Get through the door,” the Chancellor said, and that was the end of it.
I walked to the statue and sized it up. It would be easy enough, I thought, to simply break it down with my strength tattoo or my cuff. But wasn’t that the route I’d taken with the first door, the locked one? And look how that had blown up in my face.
A fucking axe had come down to take my head off.
No, it was probably best to avoid doing that again.
I frowned at the statue. “What are you?”
I didn’t expect it to answer, but its features began to shift as if it was waking up.
No one can see me.
Everyone fears me.
I am that which must always come.
I am that which is the end.
My sister is loved, yet her gaze can blind.
I am hated for that which I cloak.
What am I?
The words of the statue sounded in my mind, reaching past the barriers I had erected without any issue whatsoever, and I immediately took a step back. I had a hand lifted in a defensive position before I realised I was doing it, and I forced myself to calm down. If the goal had been to take me down, the statue would have done it by now.
No, it was obviously a sphinx situation. I had to answer the riddle correctly in order to get past the statue and through the door.
Again, my mind turned to destruction. I didn’t like riddles; they had never been something I was part
icularly good at, and I was beginning to think I would fail this trial. If they were grading, would twelve out of thirteen be enough to get me through?
I let out a breath, hands on my hips, and began to pace in front of the statue as I turned the words over in my mind again.
“Do I get a few tries, or is this a one-and-done situation?”
No answer came from the statue, and the High Council didn’t say a word to me, either. I had figured as much, but it never hurt to see if you could get a little bit of wiggle room. Clearly, simply thinking aloud wasn’t going to hurt me. The statue hadn’t appeared to take my question as an attempt to answer.
What could it mean?
“No one can see me.” I repeated the beginning of the riddle, turning it over and over in my mind. “Well, there are a lot of things no one can see, but what does everyone fear that they can’t see? Ugh, when you bring magic and creatures of that sort into the equation, it could really be anything. I mean, you can’t always see a vampire coming, and a succubus or an incubus could look like anything, really. But I guess both of those types are corporeal, so they probably don’t fit the mould. Can we play Twenty Questions on this?”
I wasn’t really asking the statue; it was just a part of my thinking process. But it sure would have been nice to get an answer in the affirmative to that.
I got no answer, of course, but I’d expected that.
My sister is loved, yet her gaze can blind.
That immediately made me think of Medusa, but her gaze had turned people to stone, not blinded them, so, obviously, that was out. Besides, she hadn’t been loved at all. She’d been molested, and that was horrible. But it didn’t help me in this case.
So, maybe not Greek mythology, even if this was a sphinx situation? Blah. I didn’t know where this was going.
Maybe the answer was death? After all, death was inevitable, so it was something that must always come. But who was death’s sister, aside from life? And would death describe life as its sister? I didn’t think so, but I had nothing to base that on. And while you could be born blind, blindness wasn’t something commonly associated with life.
Gods, but this was difficult.
I ran a hand through my hair, tugging on the long waves as I thought about it.
Maybe I was overthinking this. Maybe the answer was very simple. Like Occam’s Razor—the simplest answer is always the one to go for.
“If you’re hated for what you cloak, and you’re inevitable, and your sister can blind…” I mused aloud, scratching my head. I turned to the statue at last. “Are you darkness?”
The statue didn’t answer, but it slowly shifted to the side, revealing the door.
I sighed with relief. I’d been a little afraid that it was going to kill me. I walked to the door and gave the knob a twist, and it turned without any further prodding.
I opened it wide and stepped through to another chamber.
Forty Four
The chamber on the other side of the door looked like a bloody gladiator’s ring. I didn’t understand how this could be on the other side of such a normal-looking, if somewhat formal, chamber. It was an enclosed area, still within the building, huge in comparison to the other room. A multitude of benches lined the walls, and there was a small half-wall in between the benches and the centre ring.
My gut churned, and I turned my attention to the judges’ box on the far left. Seated on what looked conspicuously like thrones were the thirteen members of the High Council, all with grave looks on their faces.
Diego looked particularly worried, which didn’t do much for my confidence.
It was obvious now what was happening: this was the final trial, and it was going to be a fight to the death. They had finally decided to kill me, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I swallowed a lump that had appeared in my throat and strode forward into the ring. I didn’t know a lot about gladiators, but I was sure I was supposed to wait in the entryway for someone to tell me to come out. For my opponent to be seen.
For something.
But I didn’t wait. I made my way out to the centre and faced the judges’ box. With my hands on my hips, and I dared them to find fault with me. I had no weapons to speak of; my staff and Weylyn had remained at home, along with my wands.
Thank the Gods they didn’t know that what I wore on my arms were foci as well, or they’d have taken them from me, too. I waited with bated breath to find out what was going to happen next.
The Chancellor stood and gestured with one hand at his throat. When he spoke, his voice came booming across the ring. “Blair Sheach, this is your final trial, one that will encompass all of your skills so that we can see your prowess as a Wizard.”
Bullshit. It was an excuse to kill me.
“Meet your opponent: Viktor of the First Hand.” He waved to the opposite side of the ring from where I had entered, and a man came striding out of a door there. He was wearing all black and in his hand was the black obsidian blade that marked him as a member of the First Hand.
Oh, fuck a doodle do, are you bloody joking? How was I supposed to fight a Wizard of the First Hand and somehow come out of it alive? Their entire purpose was to hunt and kill Warlocks. I was a mage who had held her own against some pretty tough bad guys, but I didn’t think I could handle a true Wizard.
Crazy though I might be, I wasn’t that insane. I didn’t have that inflated a sense of self-worth.
He strode up to meet me in the centre of the ring, and that was when I realised who he was. His aura was bleeding from him in waves—or maybe I only picked it up because I had sensed it once before. He was the very same Wizard of the First Hand who had taunted me and told me I was going to die when this had all begun.
He’d lusted for my death for days now, and for Gods only knew how long before that—I assumed ever since he’d found out I existed. And now he was going to get his wish. He was going to kill me.
No! I refuse to die!
The thought came screaming into my mind, and I held on to it as tightly as I could. I couldn’t allow him to beat me in my mind before we even began to fight, or else all hope really was lost. I had to hold on to the belief that I would somehow make it through this.
My mind raced as I thought about all the possibilities, but one thing kept sticking out.
This had to be some sort of trap. If I could best Viktor, it would mean I was capable of taking down someone in the First Hand, and there was no way the High Council was going to allow that to stand. What if I turned Warlock at some point in my life? I’d know I didn’t have anything to fear from the First Hand. No, even if I won, they were going to kill me.
Despair flowed through me in earnest now.
I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew I couldn’t kill him, and I couldn’t allow him to kill me. I was going to have to figure a way out of this somehow, and I was going to have to do it on my toes, to boot.
He brandished his sword, and I once again rued the fact that I had no weapons. All I had were speed and magic.
I removed both of my jackets and threw them to the side, standing in a tank top and jeans to fight this man. I didn’t want to be encumbered for this battle.
“Fight,” the Chancellor said without further ado, and Viktor charged me.
Time froze for a moment with him positioned at me, as my mind spun to try to catch up with what was happening. He was coming right at me, and I was going to have to do something or else this was going to be over before it began.
Time caught up in a rush, and just before he could reach me, I danced to the side, purely on reflex. A breath of relief rushed through me—I had been in enough fights by this point that my body knew how to carry me through them without too much thought on my end. Thank the Gods I had been given two years to prepare for this moment—two years to fight all the baddies in London and learn how to defend myself. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have made it out of this alive.
I still might not, but who knew? You couldn’t rule
out that pesky one percent.
Before I could congratulate myself any further, he swung his obsidian sword up and brought it straight down at me. I dodged to the side again, but not before he nicked my shoulder, sending me spinning to the side and then down to my knees. A scream tore from my throat—the obsidian blade had leeched some of my magic when it touched my skin.
I hadn’t known that was possible, but now that I had that information, I was going to have to do everything in my power to make sure the sword never touched me again. Otherwise, I was going to be in for a rude awakening.
The sound of metal ringing in the air greeted my ears, and I rolled to the side, bringing up my hand with my fingers splayed. “Aegis!” A shield sprang to life from one of the rings on my fingers, and it met the sword in the air before it could come any closer to me. “Ventus!” I brought my other hand up and spread the fingers that the chain was intertwined with. A great gust of wind exploded from my hand, driving Viktor back several steps.
It gave me enough time to get back to my feet. I was on the defensive, and I didn’t like that, but there was nothing else I could do at this point. All I could do was fight—and hope I could find a moment to figure out a way out of this.
I can’t kill him, and I can’t die. What the fuck can I do?
Viktor charged me again, and I sidestepped once more, but I dragged my foot this time to trip him and send him sprawling. His sword fell to the ground at his side.
What a pity it hadn’t done the job for me and impaled him.
Before he could roll onto his back, I landed a kick to his head and aimed another one at his ribs. He made a grab for me, so I thought better of the kick and leapt over him. “Vis!” I shouted as I kicked off with the leg that had the strength tattoo on it. The force of my jump carried me several feet, so I was well away from him when I landed.
I spun to face him. My heart was beating a strong rhythm against my ribs. Energy was pulsing inside of me, begging to be let out.
