Chapter Eight
Brigid
The whispers follow me down the hallway as I make my way towards class. My mind is still a mess of fractured thoughts and emotions. Fiona ’ s betrayal. The Council. Everyone ’ s indifference to Rory ’ s disappearance. I miss him and I can ’ t believe he ’ s not here. But we ’ ll get him back. So for now, I ’ ll go to class, sit in a chair and pretend to pay attention, but it ’ s all pointless to me now.
I ’ m late, the last one to arrive and the Professor has already started. I scan the room and see Eira waving me over and I slide into the seat beside her.
The sound of shuffling papers and rustling notebooks fills the room, along with the monotonous voice of Professor Azareon. The words blur together, meaningless. The whiteboard at the front is littered with indecipherable notes and equations.
Professor Azareon ’ s voice drones on, a distant buzz in my ears. “ The Harrowing is not merely a test of magical aptitude, but a crucible that will forge your very essence.”
My eyes glaze over as he scrawls arcane symbols across the board. Circles within circles, runes that pulse with an otherworldly energy. To the others, they probably hold meaning. To me, they ’ re just squiggles.
“ You must prepare your mind, body, and spirit,” Azareon continues.
My eyes drift to the empty seat where Marius usually sits. Where is he?
Azareon waves his hand, conjuring a shimmering projection in the air. A maze of thorns and mist materializes, moving and changing as if it is sentient. “ You must navigate the labyrinth of your deepest fears, confront the demons that lurk in the recesses of your mind.”
The projection shifts, revealing a figure battling spectral entities. “ Your magic alone will not save you. It is your will, your determination, that will see you through.”
Eira ’ s elbow gently nudges my ribs.
I blink, refocusing on Eira ’ s concerned face.
“ You okay?”
“ Fine. Just tired.”
Eira frowns, unconvinced. Before she can press further, a sharp voice cuts through the classroom.
“ Professor, I have a question.”
Laria. Of course.
“ Yes, Miss Delacorte?”
“ I was wondering about the use of compulsion magic during the Harrowing. Surely it ’ s a valid strategy?”
Azareon ’ s brow furrows. “ The use of such magic is strictly forbidden on other students—”
“ Okay. But, what if someone were to use it accidentally?” Laria ’ s eyes slide to me, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. “ Or if they simply couldn ’ t control their abilities?” She sends a sidelong glance my way. “ That seems to happen an awful lot these days. Now that certain undesirables are here.” She blinks and widens her eyes in a pantomime of innocence before turning towards me.
Laria ’ s eyes burn into me, hungry and predatory. As if the Harrowing wasn ’ t bad enough in and of itself, I ’ ll also have to survive whatever dirty tricks Laria is planning.
The bell rings, signaling the end of class. Students begin to gather their belongings and file out of the room, a constant buzz of chatter filling the air. I wait, bracing myself for what ’ s coming next as I see Laria lingering in the hall.
Eira gives my hand a reassuring squeeze before gathering her things and heading towards the door. I linger for a few minutes, waiting for the hall to clear first, keeping my head down and avoiding eye contact as everyone else leaves the room. Professor Azareon leaves and I ’ m alone in the class room. I inhale deeply and walk out into the corridor.
Laria steps out in front of me.
“ Where are all your men, Brigid? Haven ’ t seem them around you lately,” Laria sneers, her eyes cold and calculating. “ Did they finally realize you ’ re not worth their time? Or maybe they ’ ve just had their fill of the chubby charity case spreading her legs for every guy who looks twice at her. It was only a matter of time before Callen got tired of slumming it with you.”
My hands clench. Anger bubbles up, hot and fierce. She ’ s not worth it, I tell myself.
Laria ’ s eyes glitter with malice as she steps closer, her voice dripping with venom. “ What ’ s wrong, Brigid? Cat got your tongue? Or are you too busy thinking about all the cocks you ’ ve had in your mouth?” She laughs, high and cruel.
My cheeks burn with humiliation as other students stop to watch, snickering behind their hands.
“ You ’ re nothing but a pathetic little slut, desperate for any scrap of attention. You ’ re not even fit to lick the dirt off Callen ’ s boots.”
She circles me like a shark, her words cutting deep. “ I bet you drop to your knees for every guy who so much as glances your way. It ’ s the only way someone like you could ever hope to get any action. But even then, they probably have to close their eyes and pretend you ’ re someone else just to get it up.”
Other students titter, listening in.
“ You ’ re a stain on this academy ’ s reputation. A fucking joke.”
“ Fuck off, Laria.”
Her eyes widen. Then narrow dangerously.
“ What did you just say to me?”
“ You heard me.” My voice is steady, surprising even myself.
Power thrums through my veins. I could end her right now. The shadows beat in time with my racing heart, begging to be set free. I imagine wrapping them around Laria ’ s pale throat, squeezing until those cold eyes bulge and her smug smile fades. It would be so easy.
It would feel so good.
The urge is so strong I can taste it, metallic and cold on my tongue.
“ You think you can talk to me like that?” She steps closer, fangs flashing. “ I ’ ll make you regret ever coming to this school.”
I smile sweetly as my fingertips tingle, wisps of shadow magic leaking out. The temperature drops and I know Laria sees the shadows on the walls as they begin to slide down towards me.
Laria ’ s smug expression falters. For the first time, I see a flicker of fear in those cold eyes.
A familiar figure strides down the hall. Lochan steps in between us, his presence a wall of ice.
“ Back off, Laria.” He crosses his arms. “ Now.”
She hesitates, pride warring with self-preservation.
Finally, she retreats, shooting me a venomous glare. “ Stay out of my way.”
“ Don ’ t worry, Laria. I wouldn ’ t dream of getting in your way. After all, it takes a lot of space to fit that massive ego of yours. I ’ d hate to puncture it and deflate your whole personality.”
Laria ’ s face twists, marring her beautiful facade.
“ You little shadow bitch,” she hisses. “ You have no idea who you ’ re dealing with.”
I laugh. “ Oh, I think I do. A spoiled, insecure little girl who ’ s so terrified of not being number one that she has to tear others down to feel important. It ’ s pathetic, really.”
Laria lunges forward, but Lochan ’ s arm shoots out, blocking her path.
“ I said back off,” he growls.
“ Trust me, Laria. I ’ d rather tongue-kiss the Umbrilith than come within a hundred feet of your toxic ass.”
Laria ’ s face flushes an ugly shade of red. She opens her mouth, but I cut her off.
“ Save it. We ’ re done here.” I glance down at my hands where the shadows have now curled around my fingers and wrists, like delicate, ephemeral onyx rings and bracelets.
Laria ’ s eyes follow mine. She glares at Lochan, then back at me. “ Keep your shadow bitch on a leash, Lochan.”
I watch her storm off, trailed by her stunned lackeys.
Lochan turns to me, expression unreadable. I struggle to find words.
“ Thanks for stepping in, but I can handle myself,” I say, meeting Lochan ’ s intense gaze.
His eyes bore into mine.
“ It wasn ’ t you I was worried about,” Lochan says, his deep voice gravelly. “ It was Laria.”
I blink, stunned. The shadows around my fingers dissipate as my concentration breaks.
“ What?”
Lochan ’ s jaw sets. “ You have no idea what you ’ re capable of, do you?”
The hallway suddenly feels too small, too close. “ I...” The words die in my throat.
Lochan takes a step closer. I can see the gold ring at the center of his eyes, feel the heat from his body.
He studies me at length, his gaze intense. Then he abruptly turns and strides away, leaving me standing there.
I stare after him, confused and frustrated. What the hell was that about? One minute he ’ s defending me, the next he ’ s acting like I ’ m some dirt under his shoe again.
The shadows at my feet move restlessly, feeding off my turbulent emotions. I breathe, trying to center myself, willing them to calm. A few students hurry past, giving me a wide berth.
Great.