Chapter 21 The Snake #2
Above her is the stone lip of her balcony. Below her, the courtyard, black and waiting. She screams again, her hands outstretched to the sky, her fingers uselessly clawing the air. She tries to grab on to her balustrade, but she’s too late. Her fingers can’t take hold.
There is nothing she can do.
Her scream erupts through the wind while she tries to hold on to something—anything—but there is nothing but empty air.
When she’s seconds away from death, a hand reaches from the balcony below hers and catches her wrist with nearly enough force to break it.
Claudia looks up.
Cassius.
He meets her panicked gaze, his face twisted in terror.
“I’ve got you,” he yells, squeezing her wrist as it slowly starts slipping from his grip. “Give me your other hand.”
She flings her arm up, and he snatches her other wrist. In one swift movement, he pulls her up and over the balustrade, and the two of them crash together on his balcony. Her palms are flat on the stone while she tries to steady her breathing. Relief, confusion, and fear fight in her chest.
Her panic consumes her when she tries to piece together what just happened.
She was sleepwalking. Dorian danced her to the edge of her balcony on purpose.
And he pushed.
The world blurs around her. Her entire body trembles. She presses her hands over her thundering heart. She can’t stop screaming.
Cassius gathers her into his arms, cradling her. “Shh, shh, shh. I’ve got you, my Star Girl. You’re safe.”
“I—” she starts, but she can’t speak. Her breathing is too labored, too sharp.
“You’re all right.” He strokes her hair.
“I’ve got you,” he says over and over again.
He stands, carrying her in a bridal hold.
Kicking his door open, he brings her inside and sits her on his bed, still holding her close.
She curls into him, tightening her arms around his neck.
She cries on his shoulder for what feels like an eternity.
Eventually, she looks up at him. He smiles at her, but there is still so much fear in his eyes.
“There you are,” he says. “Take a deep breath for me.”
Together, they breathe in, then out. Slowly, intentionally, in perfect time with each other.
“Good girl,” he says, wiping away her tears with his thumb.
“You… you saved me.”
His hand rests on her cheek. “What happened?”
“I was sleepwalking and I… I just…” She swallows hard, shaking her head. “I jumped.”
“Has that ever happened before?”
“No. But I have these nightmares, and they’re getting worse.” A small, pathetic whimper escapes her. “I’m scared, Cassius.”
He runs his hand up and down her arm. “I will not let anything happen to you, Claudia.” Gently, he guides her to lie down next to him and pulls the blankets over both of them. He drapes his arm over her. “Sleep here tonight. Sleep here every night if you wish. I will make sure you’re safe.”
She shouldn’t. Dorian will only punish her more. But when she tries to get up, her body is too weak to move. And Cassius is so, so warm.
While he strokes her hair, she nuzzles into him, and sleep comes easier than it ever has before.
In Lamour’s class the next day, Claudia can’t take her eyes off Cassius.
He can’t be the killer.
He saved her. He kept her safe all night.
It would’ve been so easy to let her die if he wanted to. All he would’ve had to do was nothing at all.
“Your thoughts, Miss Jolicoeur?” Lamour asks.
“Hm? Oh, my thoughts?” She hasn’t been paying attention to the lecture.
“Do you think love is madness?”
A few students glance her way, but her eyes remain fixed on one. Cassius smirks.
She turns back to Lamour and nods. “The purest kind.”
After class, she flings herself into her room, locking the door behind her as fast as she can. Then she turns, and immediately freezes in place.
Something is different.
Someone has been in here.
She knows for certain because in the center of the room, just below the crystal chandelier so that the glow acts like a spotlight, is an enclosure for Bishop.
It’s a glass cage padded with mulch and leaves and straw.
From corner to corner, there is a large stick, around which Bishop is curled and smiling wide, the way he does when he gets crickets or live birds.
She kneels down before him, reaching inside and tapping his head.
Awestruck, she says, “What’s this, Bishop? A real home?”
He nuzzles up against her palm. His head is dry, likely about to shed. In the corner of his tank is a water dish that’s big enough for him to soak. The entire thing is perfect, meticulously designed and environmentally conscious in a way that only an expert could manage.
Alistair, of course. Claudia can’t help herself—she wraps her arms around the cold, angular structure and hugs it.
Maybe she’s going a bit mad, but it’s the most thoughtful and generous gift that Claudia has ever received.
Bishop is so happy he hardly knows what to do with himself.
If he were a dog or a rattler, his tail would be wagging right now.
Her heart swells. Even when things are terrifying and confusing and strange, there is still love in this school, still hope in these halls.
What would be proper thanks for this? If only there was a mice infestation in Alistair’s room. Bishop would love to remedy that for him. Claudia settles on writing a thank-you letter—two entire pages, front and back, letters kept small.
There’s a knock at the door. Claudia opens it slowly to find Cassius waiting on the other side.
“Hi.”
He dips his chin. “May I come in?”
“Oh, yes,” Claudia says, stepping out of the way.
Cassius closes the door behind him and leans against it. “Are you ready for the debate tomorrow?”
She nods, walking back to her desk. “I read the papers you gave me about Dracoemagyl. They were very helpful.”
His gaze drifts. “So, now you know. I’m not the descendant of a god. I’m the descendant of a man who failed to ascend.”
“He didn’t fail. He was attacked.”
“And he lost.”
She grabs the papers from her desk and walks up to Cassius, handing them back to him. “I’m sorry. I know I asked for something to help me win, but if you don’t want me to talk about Dracoemagyl, I won’t.”
He smiles softly. “That’s what I came to discuss. I’m here to make a trade with you. A bargain of sorts.”
“For what?” Claudia asks, stiffening.
“You can tell the story of Dracoemagyl, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention my curse of silence to our classmates.”
She nods. She doesn’t need to use that part, anyway. Her argument doesn’t hinge on that. “All right. And what do I get for keeping it between us?”
“This,” he says, handing her a vial of a misty lilac potion. “To help you sleep.”
Claudia takes it, turning it over in her hand. “What is it?”
“It’s called the essence of dreams. My ancestor created it.” He reaches for her hand and curls her fingers around the vial. “It will keep the nightmares away.”
Her lips part when she looks into his eyes. His hand lingers on hers for a few more seconds before he finally lets go.
“Thank you so much, Cassius.”
“You’re welcome, Claudia. I’ll see you in the morning.” He turns, but over his shoulder, he says, “Unless you don’t want to spend tonight alone. I’m a bit wary of leaving you here.”
She doesn’t particularly want him to leave, either, but she has to get to a lesson with Lamour.
And beyond that, as much as she wants to pick up where they left off, she can’t let it throw her off the night before the debate.
It’s too dangerous. Above all else, he’s still her rival.
He could use some rhetorical charm to dull her argument, or give her stage fright, or make her tongue swell up so that she lisps through her opening statement.
Besides, he said he’d praise her all night if she beat him in the debate, and she intends to.
With a warm sigh, she says, “I thought I had to earn more before you’d give it to me. Are you too weak to resist?”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Not at all. I only fear I’ve made an unfair bargain.”
That makes two of them. “How so?”
“Because I can’t let you win, no matter how badly I want to give you your reward.”
She runs her hands along his strong arms and smiles. “Have a little faith in me, MacLeod. Believe me when I say I’m going to annihilate you, and you’re going to enjoy it.”
After her celestial magic lesson, when she lays down to sleep, she takes a sip of the essence of dreams. It tastes of lavender and salt. It coats her throat like honey and warms her insides. She drifts off to sleep, sinking into a perfect, mist-soaked dream.
She dreams of playing with Bishop. Of sweets and books and stories.
She dreams of the stars. Of her mother.
But most of all, she dreams of Cassius MacLeod.