Chapter 3 #2
I rubbed the scorch mark etched into one corner as I read through the group chat. Brit and Joe had gone on a date. Everly needed a new dress, and Cayden told her a new brain would be more fitting.
I had friends. Life hadn’t suddenly stopped.
“I’m okay,” I said out loud.
“I’m okay too, if we’re bonding here.” Matt’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he extended his hand, slow and deliberate. “Now, polish some more, or hand it back. I think you like this, don’t you? Obeying. Taking orders, Quinn… it excites you, doesn’t it?”
I recoiled, and Matt laughed.
“Better get used to it, trainee.”
I bit my lips together. Ezra never placed me… did that mean, unlike everyone else, I was still on probation?
Matt tossed my TB up in the air. “The Architect’s awake now, and he always looks out for family first.”
I stepped into the castle’s only lecture hall, the same place Chancellor Morgen had refused to give me my imagination placement.
True to his word, Ezra had eased my schedule. I was still busy, but I now had a lecture with other people in the middle of the day, and I had no more one-on-one time with Hope or Chancellor Morgen.
Ezra and I hadn’t talked about that last night, but Cayden insisted I was being isolated, and when we returned from The Green, Rowan stood up for me. Ezra must have listened and adjusted.
My heart swelled. None of these men wanted to be my lover, but they were looking out for me in their own way, as if we were friends.
Maybe the Spice Girls had it right. With the pop song now running through my head, I found Cayden madly waving.
Cayden’s grin synced with the chorus, bright enough to outshine the flickering wards, and I made my way to his side, overlooking the sunken center of the room.
Instead of Chancellor Morgen, Winston, the portly Friar Tuck from my first placement, adjusted a model skeleton hanging next to the lectern.
His thin, bowl-cut didn’t move as his lemon-yellow magic swirled past him, lighting up different etchings on the bones.
Hopefully fake bones…
“That isn’t made of plastic, is it?” I asked Cayden.
Cayden’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “If it is, it’s worth a fortune. Look at the detail, I doubt anything like that survived the tremors.”
It had definitely been a person.
I stopped dwelling on the prop and turned to Cayden. “Need a crash course in critical thinking?”
I was joking, but part of me wanted him to say yes to anything I offered.
Cayden pursed his lips. “Yes.”
A happy wiggle shook my hips.
“And even if I don’t,” he continued. “Attending is part of my deal with Ezra. I do half of what he wants and half of whatever else I want. And I want to be here with you.”
My pulse tripped over itself. He said it like a promise, not a favor. I couldn’t stop the heat burning my cheeks. With me.
But not with me, with me.
I rubbed my face and looked as far away from the Greek god of a mage who was not interested in popping my cherry. We had a bromance. It was that simple.
Winston let out a sharp whistle to grab the room’s attention. “Alright, everyone. Let’s keep digging into this idea of ‘open-mindedness.’ What it means, how it shows up, and how to stay receptive to feedback, even when it’s served with a side of attitude.”
“You wouldn’t know anything about attitude, would you now, Quinn?” The corner of Cayden’s mouth lifted; he enjoyed needling me, the bastard.
I bopped him on the arm while his ankle brushed mine again—lazy, confident, claiming without claiming.
I found myself tracing Winston’s steps as he paced and talked. Magic flew from his hands as he pointed and harshly judged Mister Bones, as he’d named his skeleton.
Winston was a monster. He’d been alive before the tremors. He was like me.
I sat bolt upright.
I was a monster.
Not really, but maybe.
I’d made that assumption days ago. However, I became so busy and focused on earning money, I forgot about everything else.
But I wasn’t distracted now.
There were three monsters in the Architect’s castle. The skeletal Professor Holiday gave me the creeps. Chancellor Morgen had been very, very clear I was useless beyond my reproductive parts. Then there was the monster lecturing in front of me, who I really knew nothing about.
Cayden brushed my arm. “What is it, Quinn? And if it’s Rowan or Ezra, I promise not to cut you off this time. But I do hate them both.”
“You don’t like anyone, not even me.” The words came out sharper than I meant, with too much truth hiding behind them.
Cayden pursed his lips.
“It’s not Rowan or Ezra.” I leaned into my friend to let him know there were no hurt feelings. I mean, there were, but I would respect his emotions and move on. “I’ve had an idea. I think I need to talk to Winston.”
Cayden cocked his head to the side but accepted what I wanted as fact and didn’t question me. I love it. I tried to focus on the lecture, but I didn’t have it in me. Winston had to have figured out how to use magic if he was born in BT. I needed his help, as much as I didn’t want to ask for it.
The moment the lecture ended, I popped out of my seat and rushed to Winston with Cayden hot on my heels.
“Winston,” I shoved myself in front of him so he couldn’t slip away, not that he was trying. “Could I talk to you alone?”
“No,” Cayden stated. “Not alone.”
I wrinkled my nose.
Winston glanced between us, then settled his eyes on me. “Quinn, my door’s always open. Say the word, and I’ll clear my schedule.”
I blinked in surprise. “It doesn’t have to be right now.”
“It does,” Winston said as he pushed a scrawl into his TB. “Despite how we’re treating you, you’re not a simple trainee in our family, Miss Eyes from the Past. I will not be happy if I miss this opportunity.”
I flushed. Willow had pegged my eyes immediately. She said ‘everyone’ was talking about me. I’d never even had a conversation with Winston, and apparently, I was worth clearing his schedule for. I paused at how little thought I’d put into my actions here.
I presumed this reality was a delusion but went with it.
I didn’t even try to blend in. If a time traveler were to show up in my time, the government would likely pick them up, and we would never hear another word.
But there wasn’t a governing body in AT.
I guess the Architect’s two options were to turn me away or stick me in a dorm room and keep me busy until the right person had time for me, that person being him, who was now awake.
I gripped my hands together to keep them from shaking. I hadn’t kept my cards close to my chest at all. Whatever conclusions I’d made about consequences not being a big deal suddenly felt very wrong.
A second scrawl went into Winston’s TB. He looked at Cayden. “I shall make excuses for you as well, Lawson, but my goodwill only extends if Quinn remains safe and out of your compound.”
“She will never join my family. I give you my word.” Cayden held out his hand.
Winston cocked his head to the side before he took it.
I bit the inside of my cheek. The questions I wanted to ask Winston definitely pointed to my existence before the tremors.
I wasn’t sure if I was ready to have that conversation with anyone else yet.
But, of all the people here, I spent most of my time with Cayden.
He accepted every weird quirk, word, and item I’d flashed in front of him.
Warmth curled through me before I could stop it. My fingers found his like muscle memory.
I trusted him. Maybe that was my mistake, or the first smart thing I’d done since waking up here.
“Don’t let me down, Lawson.” Winston gathered up a few scrawls and shoved them into his pocket-void. “Follow me.”
The Friar Tuck-look-alike led us to an office above the library I hadn’t noticed. Glass cases filled with Scottish military uniforms, weapons, and even a set of bagpipes lined the walls. The air between Cayden and me still hummed, even as Winston’s presence cooled the room.
“This was the National War Museum in BT.” Winston sat behind a desk and gestured to an old, faded couch. Bits of black and white dog fur covered most of it. I looked around for a pet, but there wasn’t even a water bowl.
Without questioning it, I sat, though Cayden took one look and perched on the arm next to me with one butt cheek.
“How can I help you, Quinn?” Winston asked.
I bit my lips together and chewed, trying to figure out where to begin.
“Let me start,” Winston said, after a long breath, raising a hand like he needed permission to continue. “Your eyes and hair don’t match, you’re clearly lost when it comes to how things work here, and your magic’s still out of reach.”
I knew all of that, but it was still hard to hear it laid out. An extra-long, thick dog hair drew my attention.
“Was there a memo or something?” I mumbled.
“I don’t know what that is,” Winston said, “but your lack of… well, everything was obvious during placements. And yet, Quinn. Your potential is staggering. No one’s seen anything like it since the tremors reshaped our world. Word of you is spreading. People aren’t just curious, they’re stunned.”
I shifted uncomfortably. That sounded so much bigger than my small, messy existence here. I was still angry Ezra had tried to control me, but maybe things were happening beyond these walls I couldn’t begin to grasp.
Still, keeping me in the dark didn’t feel like the right answer either.
“And after what you’ve been through,” Winston continued, “I wouldn’t blame you for never trusting anyone again.” He leaned forward slightly. “We’ve kept you safe inside these walls. We tried to keep your presence quiet, too. But that wasn’t what you wanted.”
I bit my lips together.
I’d let everyone know I was a woman because the Architect, this place, was trying to control me. I wouldn’t take my actions back, though I might not have understood the full extent of them.