Chapter 22 Sam #3
I look at the plain brown tile on Rook’s kitchen floor.
“I wasn’t the best second I could be to you,” I confess.
I hold up a hand as he begins to protest. “I know I gave you strategies and practice routines that won you duels. I helped you beat tough magicians. But I didn’t think about you at all, beyond that, not the way I should have.
And if it was easier for me to keep secrets from you—even if they were secrets that impacted your duels—I did.
I only thought about myself. What I wanted.
What my goals were.” I swallow hard. “I told myself it wasn’t my job to care about your happiness. ”
“It wasn’t. That’s not what a second does.”
“Maybe not.” I blink a few times, trying to stop the burn in my eyes. “But it’s what a friend does.”
I expect him to scoff lightly, or make fun of me, or even toss a predictable rhetorical question my way like, Friends, huh? Is that what we are, Sammy?
Rook doesn’t do any of those things. Instead, he just smiles. I’ve known him for years, and I can count the number of truly genuine smiles he’s given me on one hand. This is one of them.
It aches the same way Tamsin’s smile the last time I saw her made me ache.
“Fair enough,” Rook tells me. “Then, as a friend, do you want to talk to me about what’s going on with Tamsin Blackwood and this duel of yours?”
“Oh, that.” I duck my head and try to sound casual. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to lose.”
My former champion’s answer is quick and blunt. “Bullshit.”
“Okay, wise guy.” I laugh. “How do you figure me losing is bullshit?”
“One, I’ve never seen you take on a battle you can’t win.
And two? You, Samantha Chan, love magic far more than you realize.
” He offers me a sardonic little tilt of his mouth—not quite the true smile from moments ago, more like its blacker-humored cousin.
“Honestly, you love magic more than I ever did. You just needed a real chance to express it. I never gave you that, not when I was your champion and your job revolved around making me look good. But Tamsin Blackwood? She gives you that in spades.”
“You hated her.”
“Of course I did.” Rook rolls his eyes at me without denying my accusation. “She scared me, and she made me jealous.”
“Why on earth would you be jealous of Tamsin when you’re…” I trail off and gesticulate ineffectually. “You know, you?”
“Should I count the reasons?” Rook looks amused as he begins to tick them off on his fingers.
“Her talent. Her hunger. The fact that the press actually likes her. The way she enchanted you, god, that was a biggie. But mostly? Tamsin Blackwood so obviously wanted to win more than I did. And that terrified me.”
I turn red. “She didn’t enchant me.”
“Tell it to someone less gullible, Sammy. You light up around her. It’s gross.”
I turn even redder. “Shove it.”
Rook does not, in fact, shove it. “I know it wasn’t just magic, either.” He smirks. “She’s very pretty, you know. Don’t let that distract you during the duel.”
“Rook!”
He cackles—actually cackles. “That’s what you came here for, isn’t it? My advice.”
“And to make sure you weren’t dead or something,” I say archly. I bite my lip. “You think I can beat her?”
“I don’t think that’s important. Do you want to duel her?
” Rook searches my face when I don’t answer immediately.
“Not ‘do you want to win?’ Do you want to duel her? For you, I mean. Because you want to. Not because you need to prove something or because you’re scared you won’t be worth anything if you don’t.
Does the idea of dueling Tamsin Blackwood genuinely make you happy? ”
I close my eyes and nod.
“Well, then you’ve answered your own question.”
I open my eyes. “Any advice, princess? Given that you were the last magician to go head-to-head with her.” I say it dryly, like I might be kidding.
I’m not really kidding, though.
“I guess you’re not gonna let me just leave it at ‘Go have fun out there,’ are you?”
“Please don’t make me hit you.”
Rook laughs. “Okay. One real piece of advice for you: Tamsin’s more like me than you realize.”
I frown. “How do you mean?”
“She doesn’t play to win—”
“You always played to win.”
“No, I played not to lose. There’s a difference.” Rook looks me dead in the eyes. “And Tamsin is the exact same way. The idea of losing terrifies her—no doubt because of Daddy Dearest. It limits her range of magic, the kind of casting that she’s willing to risk. You can use that against her.”
“She’s not beholden to Daddy Dearest anymore, haven’t you heard?”
“Sure, she’s not—and she’ll become a better magician for it…eventually.” He waggles a finger. “ ‘Eventually’ being the operative word there. But right now? Old habits die hard. She hasn’t changed into a whole new magician over the course of two months, trust.”
I bite my lip. “So what do I do?”
My old champion shrugs. “That’s for you to figure out, Sammy.
But I don’t doubt you’ll pull it off splendidly.
Just remember, when push comes to shove: The choices that Tamsin Blackwood makes in the dueling arena have always been informed by caution.
Her magic is spectacular, sure—but for the past eighteen years, her magic has also been ruled by fear. ”
Rook smiles again. Another true smile. “So on the big day, when you stand face-to-face with Tamsin Blackwood in that arena, hold on tight to this idea, and don’t ever forget it: fear has no place in your magic, Sam.”