Chapter 11 #2
The massive, embellished double doors to my imagination placement shut behind me with a thud, interrupting a familiar bright pink-haired old woman.
Chancellor Morgen stood at the center of a lecture hall, which looked so much like my brief attempt at college that a pang of homesickness hit me hard.
Without missing a beat, she continued, though her words didn’t make it into my hungover, pain-filled brain.
I slid into the closest seat with a wince. My entire lower body still protested yesterday’s unexpected run, and my new work-study hadn’t helped. I looked around the lecture hall again, and my memories of now and then converged.
The bright, clean room of Physiology 101 blended with the dark stone and misty lighting of the present.
I leaned on the table in front of me to run my hands over its surface, but this table wasn’t smooth.
Bits of wood, glued together and fashioned with belts of thin metal, drew me away from the familiar.
I ran one grease-covered finger along a jagged, repaired crack and took a deep breath.
I was still in my delusion. None of this was real… especially my work-study on an underground train. Miss Q was insane.
Hope warned me I’d have two work-studies.
The first had popped up on my schedule yesterday, at the library, which I assumed would be shelving books or something.
But no, it was on a train. A train that ran under the entire castle.
There was nothing familiar about the small, repurposed metal locomotive, powered by magic and sheer will.
I’d spent the last two hours looking at cogs, oiling bolts, and hauling heavy crates.
Manual labor would be the rest of my life here if I didn’t figure out my magic.
“The only limit to magic is your mind.” Chancellor Morgen’s voice cut through, and I forced myself to focus on the make-believe lecture. “Today is about creativity. Don’t hold back. Don’t let emotions cloud your innovation.” Her eyes snapped to mine. “Quinn, you’re up.”
I blinked a few times before forcing my legs to stand.
My uniform came with a big rainproof pale-pink cloak.
I unhooked it, leaving it on the closest empty seat, before trudging down the stairs with a bit of my hair stuck to the grease on my face.
I tried to wipe it away but only succeeded in poking the painful bruise on my cheek.
Someone giggled, and I kept my eyes trained on the stone steps.
“All of you are stuck in this room for the next four hours,” Chancellor Morgen called out as I reached her side. “Don’t think your placement ends after you meet with me. Four hours with no direction, no goals. See what your minds come up with. We’ll be watching.”
Right. This placement was not short and sweet. Perfect day to be hungover and sore… not. At least there was no Ezra towering over me, forcing me to do push-ups. The thought of Ezra twisted my insides while filling them with butterflies. What a mess.
Talking filled the lecture hall. I followed Chancellor Morgen to a desk off to one side. She sat me down, and instantly, all sounds vanished.
“Woah,” I said, seeing my peers' mouths still moving.
Chancellor Morgen studied me. “It’s a spell that keeps sounds from leaving my area or reaching anyone outside of it. It’s common.”
It wasn’t common to me. But instead of saying that, the word ‘Cool’ spilled out of my mouth.
The chancellor narrowed her eyes. “Who are you, and where did you come from?”
I flinched back.
“Your eyes are from BT,” she continued. “I was the one who stripped you after you were healed. Your bottom layer was a skintight, white synthetic suit. And you were mid-cycle, no cup, no magic, nothing to catch the blood.”
I gritted my teeth. “If I had something, I would have put it in.”
The chancellor put her hand on my cheek, and her fingers grew. Joints popped against my skin. The new gnarly knots pressed into my flesh. My skin crawled while my pulse raced. Suddenly, her spell keeping our conversation quiet didn’t seem so ‘cool.’ No one would hear me scream.
She pulled her monstrous hand from my cheek, her claws scraping across my bruise. “Answer my question, or you’ll disappear for good.”
I swallowed hard, and what was left of my hangover vanished into my racing heart.
Would dying lead to a new scenario? Or would dying be my end?
I crossed my arms over my chest. Did I want to find out?
Or stay here was the real question. “Can’t you just read my mind or something? Magic being unlimited and all?”
I swear she beamed, which only made me curl further into myself. “Actually, no.” Her claw-tipped pointer finger tapped the top of my head. “Magic of the mind is only held by mentalists. A handful of them still exist. Our Architect is one.”
“Valentino said that, too.” I tried to look tough while also frozen with fear. “So, how do you know what I’m telling you is true?”
“I don’t.” She smiled. “The significance of the Architect being a mentalist seems lost on you.”
I bit my lips shut and controlled my fear. Technically, I’d made all this up. I didn’t need to compile a list of mind-reading clichés from my past. I released my lips from between my teeth before I could bite them off.
She grinned and leaned forward. “You’re a lost dove, aren’t you? There’s no reason to fear.”
Was she telling me I didn’t need to fear, or reassuring herself?
She tapped her knotted finger against her desk.
I flinched, and she cackled in response.
“You’re out of touch with this world.” She grinned. “Are you a monster, like me, hiding amongst the sheep you feed off? Or maybe a link to our past?” Her pink eyes glowed. “I was never able to have children like so many others of us.”
Her gaze bore into me. I didn’t know I could get smaller, but I tried to become one with the chair as if the hardwood would hide me.
“Um. I’m not a monster, nor have I birthed any.” I searched her face, trying to piece together her topics into one response. “I’m probably crazy, or at least I was.”
Chancellor Morgen cocked her head to the side. “Crazy?”
So far, the people in my delusions hadn’t responded well when I told them they didn’t exist. But what did I have to lose here? It was either get this woman to trust me or see what came next.
“Crazy like.” I pointed at my head and made little circles.
“You may or may not be real.” I waited for her to respond, but she only leaned further against her desk, watching me.
“My mind makes stuff up. I never put on a white synthetic suit. That sounds like something out of a science fiction movie. I wasn’t cycling when I started my surgery.
” Sudden confidence made me uncurl, and I pointed at the chancellor.
“Ha! I caught you.” I punched the air. “I didn’t have any bleeding or a damp spot. ”
Chancellor Morgen leaned back. “That’s because I took care of it.”
The blood drained out of my face. “Took care of it?” My voice shook with panic. “Like, took out my uterus?”
She laughed. “Oh, no. That would be a waste. After everything the Architect did to save you, I’m sure he has great plans for the baby maker in your abdomen.”
My blood chilled. “The Architect saved me? You said my healer…” I trailed off. That’s all she’d said, and I hadn’t asked, because none of this was real.
Chancellor Morgen’s gaze sparkled. “The Architect, our leader, saved your life and now lies unconscious for his trouble. You don’t think he did that out of the kindness of his heart, do you?”
My pulse thumped in the unnaturally silent space. Valentino’s warnings ran through my head. The Architect controlled everything. It was suddenly hard to breathe.
Chancellor Morgen shrugged. “I can’t know the mind of a mentalist, but why else risk his life?”
Breathe. Ezra’s rough voice in my memory demanded. My chest rose and fell.
The Architect saved me, and now I owe him. After everything I’d been through, I should have seen this coming.
Chancellor Morgen pointed to my abdomen. “You’re starving, girl. The little blood you cycled with is being caught by a simple spell and evacuated every time you piss.”
Although I heard her words, I still fought my shock. I was trapped in this castle, waiting for the king to wake up and demand payment, whatever that looked like, for saving me.
“You’re not crazy.” Chancellor Morgen tapped the table with her human fingers.
“At least no more than the rest of us. Calm down.” She put a hand on my shoulder and took exaggerated breaths.
I mimicked her. “I meant what I said when you first woke up. You are safe here. No one will touch you.” She stood, one hundred percent human once more. “You can go.”
I met her pink gaze. Lines of life and experience crisscrossed her hard, wrinkled face.
This woman had seen some shit, and though she terrified me, I believed what she said.
My panic subsided. The Architect, the man I owed my life to, still slept.
I had time. I was going to black out soon, anyway. I might never need to deal with this.
I put my hands on the table. “What about the placement?”
“You will fail it like you failed the others,” she said smoothly.
“The Architect saved you, and it’s his will that determines your future, not any of these pointless placements.
” She jerked her chin. “Go, make friends. I see the youngest Abernathy on the left, and I believe that’s a Silver in the back.
Either of them would make excellent companions.
” She narrowed her eyes. “I assume you are smarter than to seek the company of a Lawson.”
Why did everyone hate Cayden so much?
Before I could ask her, the sound of talking popped back into existence.
I looked toward the first man she pointed out. His dirty-gold topknot had a metallic sheen that almost made it look as though it had been painted on to his very round face. He glanced at me before whispering to another man on his left.
My gaze moved to the Silver, and my memory snapped into place. Seth Silver, the trainee Winston tried to set me up with.
He noticed my attention and smiled, starting to rise.
My heart raced, and not in a good way. Chancellor Morgen’s words sank in.
The Architect’s people were steering me toward certain friends, which would probably help them influence my decisions.
They were trying to control me. Women were a commodity.
Brit had said it, but until now, I wasn’t sure I truly understood how that applied to me.
A sharp whistle split the air. I turned toward the sound. Cayden held up my cloak before putting it on the chair next to him. I let out a relieved breath and fled to his side.
“You still hate me and think I’m an idiot, right?” I stood, poised to take his offered seat.
“I mean, hate is a strong word.” Cayden pursed his perfect lips. “I think strongly dislike would be more accurate. And yes, you are an idiot.”
No questions. No demands. Just insults.
Tension drained out of me, and I dropped into the chair.
Whatever ‘being a Lawson’ was didn’t matter to me.
Cayden didn’t follow me around or ask about my fertility…
actually, he didn’t ask anything personal.
He existed here, like I did. I pushed away the unease Chancellor Morgen filled me with and focused on my fellow outcast.
“Takes an idiot to know an idiot.” I poked him in the ribs.
Cayden rolled his eyes. “Pull out the book you were talking about last night. The one ‘the handsome enforcer’ gave you because his suitress sucks.”
I flushed. “I said all of that?”
“You said girlfriend instead of suitress.” He pulled two sandwiches out of his bag and put one in front of me. My stomach rumbled, and my mouth flushed with saliva. I was so hungry. Cayden hadn’t stopped talking to notice. “And when Everly corrected you, you couldn't stop laughing.”
“Oh.” I didn’t take my eyes off the sandwich. “I don’t remember what she corrected it to.”
Cayden raised an eyebrow. Although he’d already said ‘suitress’ twice, I wanted to hear him repeat it. Looking up from the sandwich, I twirled some of my hair around my pointer finger and batted my lashes.
Cayden sighed and steeled himself. “Suitress. A female suitor is a suitress.”
I bit my bottom lip, trying not to laugh, but that only made it worse. A flurry of giggles bounced out of my chest before I controlled them. “I mean, contracts are no joke, so the formality’s good, right?”
Cayden pursed his lips before his gaze landed on my oily, bruised cheek. “May I heal your face at least?”
Healing. This mysterious sleeping Architect had healed me, and now what? Did I owe him a child? My exchange with Chancellor Morgen hit me again, and I rubbed my arms.
“Maybe it’s better if I don’t owe you anything.” I pushed the sandwich back toward him. Brody and the string of men on the road, who were only nice to me to use me, filled my memory. “I’m not having good luck with that.”
Cayden caught my chin with his fingers. “You won’t owe me. You’re hurt, and it’s simple for me to fix it.” He pushed the sandwich back toward me. “And you’ve touched that now; I refuse to ingest your idiocy in case it lowers my IQ.”
I snorted, but we shared a smile.
“Fine.” If he turned into stalker number two, I’d deal with it then. Maybe I could pit him and Brody against each other. “If you want to poof my hangover while you’re at it, I wouldn’t say no.”
Cayden’s finger brushed my cheek, already drawing. “Demanding thing, aren’t you?”
I dropped my jaw in mock horror. “I’m not a thing, but my ass still hurts from yesterday. In for a penny, in for a pound?”
Cayden narrowed his eyes as if trying to understand what I just said. “I don’t know what a penny is, and I can’t make your ass weigh more. Magic can’t create something out of nothing.”
I turned bright red and tried to figure out if I should be insulted or embarrassed.
He finished his drawing. A rush of warm tingles ran down my body, making my cheeks heat for a different reason. My headache intensified before vanishing. My body hummed happily, and the tension in my shoulders drained.
Cayden, wrapping his ankle with mine, made me realize I’d closed my eyes. I didn’t move my ankle, and he didn’t acknowledge what he’d done. “Book, now. Before any of your dumb rubs off on me.”
I grinned and pulled out Rowan’s book.