Chapter 24. Eloise
Eloise
We’re both silent as we walk toward our punishment. There’s no way in hell I’m fake dating him. He’s everything that’s wrong with Mage society—inherited power, arrogance, disregard for anyone who isn’t in his social circle. How many words had Grayson said to me before I called the Key? Five, maybe?
As we turn the corner, we find Akari at the training room door.
She doesn’t smile or nod. “Belrose, Stone, you broke the fundamental rules of sparring and interfered with my instruction. And for this you must prove to me that you’re worthy of attending my next training session.”
My stomach drops at the idea of being restricted from training.
Grayson opens his mouth, but she gives him a warning look.
“I do not care to discuss the reason for this interference.” Akari’s voice is direct. “You both failed me once. Do not fail again.” She turns around, opening the door.
The training room looks nothing like it did this morning. There’s a freestanding staircase going up twenty feet, at the top of which is a platform with two thin beams that stretch most of the length of the room. The beams must be suspended by magic, because they drop off abruptly at their ends.
“As you can see,” Akari says. “There’s a pouch hanging above the end of each balance beam. One of those pouches contains the potion that’ll unlock this door. You have about fifty minutes before curfew to retrieve it and get back to your dorm.”
“And if we don’t do it fast enough?” I ask, figuring there has to be a catch, because either of us could use our magic to retrieve those pouches easily.
“This room has a security system that does not welcome visitors after hours,” she says in a way that convinces me I don’t want to find out. “Also, if you’re caught out after curfew, you’ll be punished.”
We don’t have time for another punishment. We don’t even have time for this one.
“Retrieve the pouches and unlock the door. And that’s it?” Grayson asks, also skeptical.
“Not exactly,” Akari says, turning her palms up. “Place your hands on top of mine.”
I look from her palms to her face, nervous. Physical contact spells are different from normal casting, more personal, like the gap between someone handing you a shirt and dressing you in it.
The moment our hands touch, shimmering lines glow on Akari’s wrist guards.
There’s a faint whoosh, like the suction of a vacuum and my hair drifts toward her.
I feel strange, like I’m doing spells at warp speed, the magical version of running ten miles in a sprint.
When she pulls back her hands, I sway slightly.
“I’ve drained your magic,” she says matter-of-factly, and Grayson looks thrown.
I didn’t even know that was possible.
“It’ll start coming back in a few hours,” Akari continues. “However, you’ll not have the use of your spells until then.”
There it is—the catch.
You don’t push against magical exhaustion unless you want to go unconscious or worse.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Akari says. Wisps of shimmering magic tangle around the doorframe as she goes.
Grayson doesn’t bother studying the lock and neither do I. Because even if we knew the correct spell, we have no magic. And while there are blades here that could break the wood, they’re stored behind glass that’s magicked to be shatterproof.
The only way out is to climb the stairs, which we do in silence.
I exhale as we reach the top of the platform, looking out over the long balance beams no wider than a tome in the library.
I step on my beam with one foot to test it. Seems solid. And slippery.
“How much do you want to bet we’re at the same height I would have fallen in that fight if you hadn’t cushioned the ground?” I ask.
“If you’re scared, stay here.”
My eyes narrow.
He sighs. “I didn’t mean it that way. What I meant was that I was the one who got us into this.”
I stare at him. Did he just admit that he was wrong?
“I’m not saying I was wrong, though,” he continues, and I’d laugh, except it isn’t funny.
“You were in danger in that fight. Danger that would have taken you out of doing spells while you healed. But when you said that was the only reason I cast, you were wrong. I didn’t want to see you get hurt.
Not like that. And given the same choice, I’d do it again. ”
I’m genuinely unsure what to make of that and so I break eye contact with him.
We step onto the beams at the same time.
“Did you know that Akari could drain magic?” I ask.
“Had no effing clue,” he says. “I’ve never heard of anyone having that ability before.”
“Maybe she’s making an example of us?” I suggest. “Unless you think it was a warning because she doesn’t trust us?”
Not having access to magic feels incomplete and unbalanced. And it shows, because on my fifth step, my boot slips a little.
Grayson offers me his hand.
“I—”
“I know you’ve got it,” Grayson says. “But I’d really like to help.”
“Okay, what gives?” I say.
“Suspicious much?” he asks with a smile.
“I’ve always been suspicious of Mage-babies,” I say.
The sound that erupts from him is half laugh and half choke. “Mage-babies?” he repeats, a little horrified.
“Yeah, kids born to powerful Mage lineages who are given everything and work for nothing?” I say with a smile of my own.
“Tell me how you really feel, Claws.”
We hit the three-quarters mark, and I let myself feel a pang of hope that we might get through this.
Speaking of which, “Can I ask you something?”
“Should I be nervous?”
I pause. “Do you know if there’s a way that I can call my family?”
“There’s no public phones inside the wards,” he says.
“Yeah, I know. But there are obviously phones here somewhere, right? Your uncle and the High Mages must have a way to communicate. Anyway, I just thought you might know of a phone I could use for a few minutes?”
“Sorry, I don’t,” he says, but the way he hesitates suggests otherwise. And I know it shouldn’t bother me that he doesn’t want to give up information on some illegal phone, but he doesn’t need to lie, either.
Only I don’t get to say that because Grayson starts cursing.
I turn and immediately regret it, because the moment I take my eyes off my beam it starts to shake. The movement only lasts a few seconds, but that’s long enough.
As my beam stills, Grayson says, “Run,” and I don’t hesitate.
I shoot forward taking four fast steps. Grayson does the same, only his strides are longer and he winds up a couple of feet ahead of me at the end of his beam.
He reaches upward to grab the pouch. But it’s six inches above his fingertips. He doesn’t hesitate, he jumps in the air, pulling the pouch from the string and landing back on his beam.
Please let his pouch contain the potion.
He yanks it open. But his look doesn’t scream victory. He seems confused.
“A paintbrush?” he says like a question, pulling it out as I make it to the end of my own beam.
The shaking starts anew and we both fight for balance. The tremors have gotten more violent and I let out a small yelp as my foot slips. Lightning fast he reaches out for me. Only this time, I accept his hand.
And the instant our fingers touch, the tremor mysteriously stops.
But there’s no time to analyze it because I’m standing under my pouch and it’s a good foot and a half out of my reach.
“Move back,” Grayson says. “I’m coming over to your beam.”
As he does, we hold on to each other for balance.
“The beam isn’t shaking,” I say, confused. “It should have by now.”
“Yes, it should have,” he says, and our gazes lock.
The air suddenly feels charged in a way it shouldn’t. Maybe it’s how close we are or the fact that he cared that I lost my balance. But whatever it is, I pull my hand back.
The moment I do, the beam starts thrashing double-speed. But there’s no time to correct my mistake because the end of the beam bends like it were a diving board, sending him sliding right off.
I hear a loud thud below and then a string of curses. But I can’t look, can’t even ask if he’s okay, because my feet lose purchase and I fall, too, my chest slamming onto the beam. My legs go over the side, as I wrap my arms around the awkwardly shaped wood.
I swing a leg up, but just as I do it starts to thrash. My fingers slip and I dig my nails in. But it’s all for nothing.
My grip gives out.
And I’m free-falling.