Chapter 18 #2
I’m beginning to realise I may be out of my depth at Killmarth. ‘But she can’t be all powerful in two types of wielding, surely …’
‘No, you’re right on that. Like I said before, she’ll have a lesser magic and a dominant one.
Her lesser magic will deplete her quickly, and she won’t rely on it.
But her dominant magic will feed her, make her less certain of when she’s teetering on the edge of burnout.
’ Tessa’s eyes flit to mine, then back to the path.
The feel of molten magic, of it tingling through my veins, electric and bright and wonderful , flits across my mind. That was what I felt in the Ordeal, when I pressed my hand to Alden’s arm – a taste of his raw magic, the depths of his power.
‘Are there any other hopefuls you think are able to wield two forms of magic?’ I ask, biting my lip. ‘I guess the competition is stronger than I expected. How do you wield? Like, do you hold your breath, or … ?’
She scrunches her nose. ‘Practice and time? And I imagine myself as the person I’m becoming. Say with you …’ She stops, turning to me and a tiny frown line appears between her eyes.
Then between blinks, she shakes out her hair and she’s … me. Down to the boots and coat I’m wearing, the gloves, the thick jumper. I giggle, then point at her ears. She laughs, and it’s my voice, my laugh, but I can’t help cringing. ‘I sound like that ?’
She becomes herself again and grins. ‘No one likes the sound of their own voice.’
We carry on walking and I take her arm.
‘Look, how Fion was able to hide it this long, I don’t know. Don’t worry about the others. You’re halfway through and I’m the one who nearly fucked it up in the last Ordeal, not you.’
‘Hardly, you stepped on a lawn—’
‘And then you had to grab Alden and literally kissed him afterwards.’ She side-eyes me slyly. ‘How was that, by the way?’
I chuckle and roll my eyes, releasing her arm as we hop down a set of stone steps, turning into a walled garden on one of the lower levels.
I brush my hands along the pale green lichen spreading across the granite.
The air is so fresh here, sweet and earthy.
I can practically drink it. ‘Terrible. Awful experience,’ I say as we step through the iron gate, letting it clatter behind us.
When it comes to Alden, I’m kind of protective now.
Like the real him is my secret, and I don’t want to share. Not even with Tessa.
‘Sure. It looked really horrible.’
‘Definitely won’t be repeating it. It was just an in-the-moment thing.’
‘I mean, he is a Locke brother. Eligible, handsome, family owns half the Morlagh, a bit aloof and most definitely keeping secrets. So, obviously terrible.’
‘Exactly.’
Tessa rounds on me. ‘You like him, don’t you?’
‘What?’ I tut, hoping the crisp air will cool the sudden flare of heat rising up my throat. ‘Absolutely not. Alden is … well he’s—’
‘Just … don’t get hurt.’
‘Of course,’ I say, pretending to study a plant growing along the top of a wall. ‘Obviously.’
She chuckles, shaking her head as we pass the raised beds, following the trailing path between the loam and slumbering plants. ‘So you’re not planning on kissing him. Again.’
‘He’s a distraction.’ I shrug, picturing him as we stood together in his room only yesterday, as he unburdened his fragile soul. As the threads wrapping around us began to bind.
‘You could say that.’
I sigh, reaching out to snap a twig off a tree, creeping limbs twisting across the path. ‘But in the Ordeal …’
‘Nice segue.’
‘Shut up.’ I laugh, hiding the doubt growing like a nettle, the words murmuring in my mind like slow-dripping poison, questioning if he feels as I do. ‘In the Ordeal, did you notice anyone who shouldn’t have been there? Did the gargoyles say anything to you when you entered the maze?’
Tessa frowns. ‘Not really. There was a lot of illusion at play, and I couldn’t discern any of it.
I just had this overwhelming feeling of dread and failure, like I was never going to become a scholar, that I may as well give up.
But I didn’t see anyone else, only other hopefuls.
And the gargoyles just let me through. Grandmother actually used to have real ones, and I used to give them riddles to test any guests.
They were called Rudolf and Ludwig. I was rather fond of them … Don’t look at me like that.’
‘Like what? Nothing strange about having gargoyles as childhood pets,’ I murmur as we find another gate, leading to the next walled garden. ‘So you didn’t see a pale woman? Kind of … odd-looking? Or in the Morlagh?’
Tessa side-eyes me, stepping through first. ‘There were a shitload of odd things, like you attaching your face to Alden’s. In the Morlagh, all I saw was trees and a bloody great full moon.’
After our walk through the walled gardens, I leave Tessa at the turning into the courtyard and weave my way down the hewn steps to the lonely tower of Hope Hall.
There are several rooms now with doors ajar, empty and windswept, the scent of salt and damp tumbling out as I ascend the staircase.
Tessa asked me why I kissed him. The truth is, I don’t know why.
I don’t know why it happened, which one of us made the first move.
I suppose … I just wanted to. He was a flame, and I a moth.
And now …
I take a breath and shake myself. The man still has too many secrets, and the way he looks at me, the way I feel when I’m with him … I guess he is the dangerous type. Because you don’t know how deep you’re in, until it’s too late to find a way out.
I’ve been with other men before, usually when I was playing a role, snaking after a mark or later, when I couldn’t stand to be alone in the stew of my thoughts.
I’d hand the vials over to the Collector, leave the antiques shop for a bar, like the Pickled Gargoyle where you never give your real name, where the women wear red lipstick and the men don’t ask questions.
I would leave an apartment or house or occasionally a mansion as the dawn light kindled the streets of the city, and find that emptiness still at my core.
That longing for connection. For more. It was never a cure, but I still sought them out anyway.
These men, these strangers I could taste and explore, then slip away before my heart lingered on.
I know what the cure is, but I suppose I’m not going to find that here. Not at Killmarth where one wrong turn could end with a knife slipped between your ribs, or in an Ordeal, succumbing to some hideous wielding.
But I can feel complete in another way – in honing my magic, in my new friendships, in my freedom.
Relationships and romance, even love are such tenuous things anyway, a set of binding threads that are so fragile, they can easily be severed.
I guess I lost sight of that for a moment, with him.
He’s a distraction I absolutely do not need.
No matter how much I might crave it.
The first thing I do when I reach Lewellyn’s office for my mentor session is drop the photo frames on her desk and grin at her.
‘There, I did it.’ The images are now completely different, all depicting scenes in an explosion of spring and dappled sunlight.
‘It took time to unweave the threads of your illusion, and I kept finding knots of your magic, but I did it. Next time I want to be faster.’
Lewellyn’s lips quirk. ‘We can work on that. And creating an illusion?’
I frown slightly, but plough on. ‘I can hold an illusion for longer, an inanimate object, as you suggested. But I still experience side effects. It’s not easy.
’ I blink at her, then steady my gaze. ‘I need to work on that. I need your help if I’m going to make it through the rest of the Ordeals alive.
But not just that … I want to be one of the best. I want to thrive here. ’
This time, her smile lights up her whole face. ‘Well, that’s what I’m here for, Sophia. To help you thrive. Let’s begin.’