Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
IS EVERYTHING A CHALLENGE? WHY, YES, IT IS
Turns out ridding myself of the discombobulation riding my ass involves washing my hair, shaving my legs, and having a good cry.
Cane on his own is enough to make my logic ping-pong erratically; throw the others into the mix, and I can’t drag myself away from feeling like an alien in my own body.
I’m better than this. I know I am. But their presence is encroaching on my space and psyche.
It’s frustrating and unsettling how they’ve stolen my calm.
I know I’m having a somewhat frenzied lapse, and to realize no matter what I do, or how I try to outrun them, there’s nowhere safe on Earth.
Their giant egos and blinding presence would reach everywhere.
In fact, I’m sure even if I was back home, hiding from the enforcers, these four appearing would be what worries me most.
One thought tumbles into the next. Thankfully, no one can hear my ramblings, or I’d be asked to prove my sanity.
I mean, no one said meltdowns had to be rational or pretty, and I’m sure it might be over the top when I blame the four men upstairs for everything.
It fits, though. My anger eventually burns out, just in the nick of time too.
“You sit up here.” I point to a new spot for Bugby as I readjust my tie.
I’ve moved him half a dozen times already, but their residual presence is keeping him protectively close. The timer on my laptop buzzes, showing that classes are about to start. Triple-checking that my uniform is straight and perfect, I sit in front of my camera and ask to join the class.
“Maya, come up here.” Emrys’ voice wraps around me like a silk vise, exactly like his purple magik.
I mute my microphone and slap at the ribbons circling my wrists.
“No chance. Magikster Ballin already hates me, and class starts in less than ten seconds.” I talk using my inside voice, banking on him using his supernatural hearing.
It’s hard to yell at him with half the class already online and everyone checking each other out.
Emrys appears in my room at the same time Magikster Ballin joins the meeting.
I swear his beady eyes scour the screen until he finds me.
The look he throws my way is what I imagine a rattler would look like if you stood on its tail.
I slam my shields up so fast that there’s a ringing in my ears, luckily, because he calls my name and starts speaking in a language I’ve never heard.
Ballin commandeers my focus, and everyone shuffles on their screens, like they are positioning themselves to watch.
It’s made worse because not everyone has turned their microphones off, so I’m getting Ballin angrily berating me, as well as the feedback of students laughing or throwing shade my way.
I challenge anyone to sit in my seat and not get the wobbles. Tears prick my eyes at the attention, and my stomach bottoms out as Ballin continues leveling all his aggression at me.
Emrys’ face appears next to my screen. “He’s always been an asshole, Maya. The trick is to beat him at his own game.”
My eyes flick to Emrys, who looks relaxed, making me question if I’m being paranoid. As soon as I question myself, I feel a pressure against my shields.
“Is that you?” I ask, barely moving my lips.
I know it’s not, because Emrys’ magik is curling around me like a welcoming house cat, and the sensation I’m referring to is like getting brain freeze from drinking slushies too fast.
“He’s super pissed at you. I mean, he’s meant to be the strongest magikal here, and by rights, that means he should have been the one to sound the alarm that the Legion were attacking.
Instead, the warning came from a Nom. Throw in that he and Cane have never seen eye to eye, and the result is him doing what he’s doing.
Keep your shields up, and give him those cute, innocent eyes you do when you know you’re being a brat, and you’re enjoying how flustered you can get others. ”
“I do not,” I hiss through a smile.
“If you can tell me what language he’s using, I’ll show you how to counter the cast. If you can’t, I guess you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”
I visualize myself kicking Emrys in the balls and feel better for it, while also searching through my limited memory bank of languages I’ve learned about since arriving at Thales.
Limited knowledge is an understatement, but it’s also where the answer lies.
Magik is tied back to origin, and Ballin is too staid in patriarchal traditions to be using anything but some form of Latin.
“Ancient Latin,” I whisper through my tight smile. If Emrys wasn’t sitting opposite me, I doubt he would have caught my response.
“What year?”
“Seriously, Emrys, stop shifting the goalposts. I’m getting a headache.”
“You need to get used to how things operate in Quin-state, Maya. No one will stop coming for you, even once you’ve done what they’ve asked you to do.”
He grins, one of his eyebrows curling up as he waits. His magik moves around him similarly, and I again visualize physically harming him as a coping strategy.
“I have no clue,” I hiss back while scouring my memories of Mom. I know it’s way back in history, but I don’t know for sure when. A random time period pops into my thoughts, and I say it before overthinking. “Sixth or seventh century. Maybe eighth even.”
“Look at you, new girl, full of surprises again.”
I grind my teeth as a way of not losing my practiced expression while I keep looking straight ahead as Ballin keeps speaking his curse.
“A lot of magik has to do with intention.”
I risk another look at Emrys, and he laughs, which means he caught the tail end of my frustration. Then he fuels it further when he sets up his laptop alongside mine.
“It’s true. But I also want you to remember the rule of three. Start with, Ego sum nisi speculum, which sends his incantation and intention back to him threefold. Get ready, though, because he will not like you trying to do that.”
I repeat the words over and over, “Ego sum nisi speculum”.
Using my basic grasp of ancient Latin, it translates to, I am a mirror, or I reflect.
It’s less than a handful of seconds before the pressure coming at me intensifies.
Emrys disappears from view, and I worry it’s a sign Ballin’s getting the upper hand and I’m about to suffer another humiliation.
On screen, I see Magikster Ballin’s eyes shift infinitesimally before the frame around his screen shifts black, signifying he’s paused the video.
“Sorry to interrupt, Magikster. I’ve been asked to take over the class so you can attend a faculty meeting.” Emrys’ eyes stay on his screen, right where the camera would be, and I realize he’s the person who interrupted the Magikster.
“You’re not to mess around, Emrys. I have a curriculum to work through. I’ll email you the content I want covered while I’m gone. And since you’ve so generously offered your assistance, you can grade the assignment I have scheduled.”
Emrys’s expression is so different from what I’ve come to expect from him that it’s like looking at a different person.
It’s a bit freaky, honestly, until I remember I do the same thing.
I don’t bother looking back at the screen; instead I watch Emrys in person, and in doing so, I see him change again, becoming our pseudo teacher in Magikster Ballin’s absence.
He’s still holding part of himself back, but he also wears a confidence that suits him. “Okay, if everyone can settle down for a minute.”
His purple aura pulses, increasing in vibrancy, making me look harder at him; he enjoys teaching, or perhaps it’s being the focal point. It’s hard not trusting others; it makes it hard to understand what makes them tick. Still, I’d take Emrys over Ballin any day of the week.
“In the comments, I’m sharing a link for the task you need to work on. It’s due midnight tonight, and before you start grumbling, I’m going to let you break off into pairs and spend the lesson working together on the assignment.”
I turn my attention back to the screen, watching as students download the document before they find someone to work with.
I didn’t expect anyone to reach out. Still, when no one does, it unlocks an ache inside my chest. I hit the download link and am reading through the task when a notification dings on my laptop.
I take a breath to ready myself for the inevitable taunting, but when I look up to see who sent the request, my eyes jump from the screen to Emrys.
“Come on, new girl, don’t leave me hanging.”
My cursor hovers until I remember Emrys can be as cruel as the others.
“I’ll work by myself, as I’m sure you’ve got other things to do,” I mumble, leaving his chat request unanswered while I click on the assignment. Though I barely get through the first few lines before he jabs against my shield, not stopping until I look up.
“Yeah?”
He smirks, and it’s devastating. One smile, and he makes me second-guess whether what he’s said and done has been as hurtful as I first thought.
“I’m sorry.”
Something in my chest twists, reminiscent of heartburn. I know I shouldn’t think he’s suddenly discovered sincerity, as much as I hope he has. “What are you apologizing for?”
“Accusing you of being a spy.”
“And what about all the other times you were an ass? Or do they not warrant an apology?”
He looks constipated as he considers my question, leaving me feeling slightly guilty for calling him out.
He might be deep in contemplation, but his aura has a mind of its own.
Seeing Emrys like this clearly impacts me, because when his aura reaches out, it doesn’t feel like an intrusive jab; it feels like a gentle touch.
He lifts his eyes, and I can see some kind of decision in them, which is worrying. “Mute your mic and accept my invite so we can talk without the slops and sluts eavesdropping.”