Chapter 23 #2
Veda’s laugh rang out and startled me so that I tripped over my own foot and bumped into the shelf. One of the globes thudded against the glass after rolling off its pillowy throne.
Oops.
“Oh, no,” she said, still laughing. “I wouldn’t say I’m a good person. You don’t earn them. Charisms are gifts. Though…there is a way to get more.”
“Let me guess.” I narrowed my eyes. “This is another one of those things I’m not supposed to know yet.”
She grinned like a fox. “Not yet, not ever. Even I don’t do it anymore.”
She tapped the glass over SACRIFICE.
“Why would that be a gift?” I asked. “Isn’t sacrifice a choice?”
“How could anyone have the will to sacrifice themselves if not for the gift to do so?”
The voice wasn’t Veda’s.
A leathery old man approached from the end of the aisle, pausing about a meter away. He wore simple gray robes that swept the floor and held a ring of keys in one hand, which jangled with his every step.
“Apologies for not finding time to meet you sooner, Eliana,” he said. “And I’m even sorrier I can’t stay. I’m in a bit of a rush.” He unlocked a case and plucked out an orb before closing the case once more with a soft click. “Let’s meet soon.”
“Sure?” It came out more question than agreement, but he was already turning and disappearing around the end of the aisle by the time that lone syllable found completion.
“That’s Ezra,” Veda said once the door to the armory thudded shut. “He’s kind of like the President out here. But not evil.”
“He’s the boss, then?”
Bit strange with everyone thinking I was so important, but the boss couldn’t be bothered with more than a one-minute, one-sided conversation.
“Meh,” was all Veda offered before standing a little straighter and clearing her throat.
“I’ve got a meeting with Onezimuth, so I’m gonna have to dip out a bit early.
I’ll see you at dinner. Feel free to look around as long as you like.
Just no firing any weapons in here. Can’t have you dying before you fulfill your destiny. ”
A roll of my eyes elicited a laugh from Veda before she slinked off down the aisle.
I took her invitation literally, though. As long as I liked was the rest of the afternoon.
I wandered through about a quarter of the shelves, mentally cataloging the names of every weapon I could get my eyes on.
Too bad I didn’t have a photographic memory.
Maybe helping them digitize an inventory system could be a project to keep me busy because, as of right now, there didn’t seem to be much of a way of finding what you needed without memorizing the content of the room or spending a crapton of time searching through the stacks and stacks of deadly weapons.
No, Eliana. You’re only here for a month until you can kill Azazel. No time to go around helping these people with their efficiency problems.
The weapons I made it through included guns, spears, bows, and even whips. I’d just started on the daggers when my stomach complained. The sound distracted me enough to notice the dull ache in the soles of my feet from standing for so long.
I wound my way back toward the door with no idea if I’d missed my dinner appointment with Veda or not, but a portrait caught my eye, and I froze.
A painting of a woman with cascading fiery hair and emerald eyes peered back at me, reflecting the same pointed nose and thick brows I saw in the mirror every day. I’d never seen Lenore Chapman at that age, but I knew it was her before my eyes dropped to the nameplate below the gilded frame.
The birthmark on my chest tightened, suddenly heavy.
“The truth will set you free,” whispered the still, small voice.
Three deep breaths.
My grandmother’s gaze welcomed mine when I looked back up.
She was a Daughter of the Scepter.
Seeing her name on that golden wall had already confirmed as much. But seeing her face…
Her portrait hanging here was less a reminder that she had been a part of all this and more a warning that I was always going to end up here. In every scenario, I would find my way to the guild.
Dammit.
I slammed a lid on the rising boil of questions, pushed through the door, and stepped into the bustling hallway, leaving the quiet of the armory a world away.
Melting into the flow of the crowd, I wound my way toward the cafeteria.
The tables were packed with food as always.
Tartare de saumon and salade de chèvre chaud alternated among coq au vin, filet de b?uf Rossini, and bouillabaisse.
Bowls of haricots verts amindine, ratatouille, and gratin dauphinois flanked each entrée like edible centerpieces.
While breakfast was usually a smorgasbord, dinner always had a theme.
Tonight fell under Ancient French territory.
The seats were nearly all taken. So I took a little too much time as I scanned for an empty one far enough from where the twins sat with Adriel. No sign of Soren.
I also scanned the crowd for Salah, trying not to linger long enough to give Marigold or Adriel more ammunition and the stage to humiliate me in front of hundreds. At least I wasn’t “mutt” down here—but the Rapunzel nickname was starting to wear thin. No sign of Salah left me no choice.
I slid into a spot at the end of the third table, back turned to Marigold and company.
From here, I wouldn’t have to see her glare at me.
They wouldn’t start anything in the cafeteria in front of everyone, right?
Most of the comments, notes, and petty vandalism from the past week had happened when no one else was watching.
Still, my fingers lingered in the air over the opera cake without taking a slice. Hunger was hard to come by with the prospect of a confrontation while eating alone.
“Sorry, I’m late!” Salah chirped and plopped down next to me.
I sighed in relief as she launched into a tirade about her “boring foraging class”. She threatened to actually die if she had to listen to Professor Katlin rattle on about cattails one more time.
She filled her plate with one of everything and started stocking mine as well. “Why are you late?” she accused, my barely used plate alerting her to my own recent arrival.
I opened my mouth to tell her about my adventures in the armory. The pinch of seeing Lenore’s portrait and the anxiety of how I couldn’t fit in—even here with the world’s most eclectic collection of outcasts—eased under her warmth. But I didn’t get a word out before a shadow fell over my plate.
“Rapunzel,” Adriel’s voice sliced through our peaceful dinner. “You’re lucky you get to enjoy this meal, considering you have contributed nothing but trouble from the moment you showed up.”
I huffed through my nose. The twisting feeling that had coiled in my chest when I saw Lenore’s portrait flared again with the scrape of this asshole’s voice.
“And here I thought Tower girls ate healthier than this,” he sneered, reaching down to snatch the blue macaroon from my plate. “Let me help you with that. Can’t have you looking fat on Pulse now, can we?”
The twisting stopped and hardened into a red-hot coil.
“Your vanity won’t allow you anything but looking your best so those Administrators can fuck your tight little holes, right?” Adriel’s comment earned him a few laughs from the tables around us.
Then the coil in me snapped.
I shot up from my seat. Something clattered on the table behind me. Ignoring it, I shoved Adriel hard. He staggered back a step, then laughed.
“You and your creepy twin besties need to shut the hell up,” I growled. “It’s getting old fast.”
“What are you gonna do?” he said between chuckles. “Call Winifred on us? Can’t handle it yourself, princess? At least your mom had the balls to handle her own sh—”
“Adriel Dangote!” Salah yelped, stepping between us. “Stop it. That’s too far.”
“Oh, I’m doing her a favor.” He turned his words toward me next.
“You see, Ellie, many around here—Ezra, Winifred—think the way to earn a Charism is by serving others. Someone like you, who’s only ever thought about herself, is gonna have a hard time.
” He nodded to the girls at the table behind me, and they immediately stood and cleared out of the way.
“If you’re going to survive outside The Tower as a weak little human, you’ll have to get a Charism.
You either learn to serve, or you crawl back to The Tower and hope Ofer lets you bounce on his dick again. ”
Red. Everything turned to a deep crimson.
That was when I realized the whole cafeteria was staring at us.
Adriel plopped down on the now-vacant bench and casually dug at his teeth with a fingernail.
“We all know you’re just here until you can get back to The Tower.
So don’t bother trying to fit in, huh? Just tolerate us for a few more weeks, and then you get what you want.
Whether you choose to fuck Azazel or his corpse, that’s up to you. ”
I lunged, but Salah grabbed my arm.
A girl with a sleek bob of obsidian hair slid in between Adriel and me.
“Adriel, embarrassing yourself again? You know nothing about her but want to judge? Be prepared to be judged back.” She lifted one manicured nail and drew it straight down her face, mirroring his scar.
“You’re just jealous you can’t even get an Administrator to let you blow them with a face that ugly. ”
I gasped and then let out a small laugh. Too loud considering the silence that had fallen over the room.
Salah’s voice followed, tight but tearful, “You should try to get along with her, Adriel. You need to stay out of trouble.”
The room buzzed with murmurs.
“Oh, Salah,” Adriel said softly. “We all know you’ve got a bleeding heart for the Babblers, but they can all burn in hell if you ask me. And one day, they will.”
“Hey!” Salah shouted, stomping her foot. “I was once a Babbler, too!”
“What are you going to do, Salah?” This time, the voice came from behind me. Marigold sat perched on the table with her ass right next to my food, one leg crossed, and her chin balanced on her hand. I hadn’t even noticed her approach much less plant herself on my table.
“Adriel’s right,” she said. “Citizens keep taking from those they’ve already taken so much from. She’s here, eating our food that she hasn’t lifted a finger to prepare. If anything, she’s putting us all in danger, attracting the eyes of The Tower.”
“That’s right!” shouted a boy across the room with spiky blue hair. The cafeteria erupted into shouts of either “Down with The Tower” or “We need peace!”
I ground my teeth together, my ears igniting. “I don’t care about the guild’s ridiculous politics,” I spat. “I’m here because you all kidnapped me. You’re the ones forcing me into this role.”
The arguments crescendoed around us.
“See?” Marigold said, stepping beside Adriel. “Causing trouble again. You don’t belong here and should do us all a favor and leave.”
Then the obsidian-haired girl laughed darkly. “That’s not how Soren feels.”
My shoulders tensed, and then every other muscle in my body followed suit.
Salah gasped.
Adriel snorted, and a few others around the room made noises of shock or amusement.
And Marigold. She turned the sickest shade of white I’d ever seen.
“What did you just say?” Marigold’s question dripped with murderous intent as she took a step toward the mystery girl.
The girl tilted her head, sneering. “You heard me. But I’ll clarify: Soren wants her here. He’d trade your presence for hers in a heartbeat—if he had one.”
Marigold lunged, grabbing a fistful of the girl’s hair, but the girl yanked back, holding some of Marigold’s in return. They locked in a vicious knot of growling, hair-pulling chaos.
Cheers and jeers for both sides erupted around us.
I stepped back—only to be shoved aside as Matthias strode past me. I expected him to hit the other girl or rip her away. Instead, he reached for Marigold’s hand, gently prying her fingers free of the black tresses.
The room exploded.
Shouts. Flying fists. Clattering dishes.
I barely heard anything else over the roar.
Salah yanked me back just in time before Adriel barreled through the spot I’d just been standing in.
He body-slammed Matthias, who stumbled sideways into me.
I hit the floor.
And when I stood, teeth gritted, I charged at Adriel with my fist cocked, aimed at his throat.
Then suddenly, “Enough!”
The voice cut through the chaos like a sickle. An icy hand clamped around my wrist, stopping me an inch from Adriel’s jaw.
Soren.
He stepped between us like a monolith.
I didn’t have to look up to feel the cold fury rolling off his glare.
Around us, the shouting fell to a dull roar. The fighting slowed, then stopped.
All I could hear was the blood pounding in my ears and then Soren’s next words. “Looking for trouble again, Xiao Ying?”