Chapter 9 Taera #2
Then I make the mistake of looking down.
The robes show everything. Everything. The points of my nipples are visible through the thin weave. I cross my arms over my chest. My face is burning, but this humiliation I can bear if it keeps me alive.
I part the curtain and step out.
Every pair of eyes flicks up and down my body, emphasizing the feeling of nakedness. I glare back at them, my hand inching up to the pendant at my neck.
Instinct. Comfort. Home.
It’s a mistake. Every gaze follows the movement.
“What’s that?” Sen’ko says.
No. Please. No.
“A necklace,” Nikolai says, brows drawing together.
My heart lurches. If they try to take it—if they so much as touch it—
“Take it off,” Sen’ko demands.
I shake my head.
The Glassmaster’s eyes narrow to silver slits. “Take it off!”
I can’t move. I won’t.
I stand there, every inch of me exposed and shaking, but I refuse to give them the last piece of my mom.
“Let me.” Nikolai’s voice ripples like velvet between us. He steps behind me, gloved fingers brushing the back of my neck.
I clench my eyes closed, but don’t stop him. I fist my hands to keep them still.
He loosens the knot, and the pendant lifts away from my skin. The loss is instant. He drops it with a clink into a ceramic jar that has just materialized. Seeing Mom’s necklace in the clutches of magicians makes me sick. It takes everything in me not to lunge for it.
I hate him.
My jaw aches from how tightly I clamp it. Standing before them, stripped of everything I own, is beyond humiliating. It makes me want to scream.
“That’s all she carries,” a voice hisses.
I jerk my head toward the thing that spoke from Sen’ko’s other side.
The outline is vaguely human, but his body is made up of pale white shapes—cylinders, cones, prisms. Light bends strangely around each angle, curving toward the sphere in the place of a head.
“Facemaster.” Master Koroy and Nikolai both bow their heads. Jerkily, I mimic the movement.
“Why did you bring her here?” The Facemaster’s voice scrapes like dry parchment.
“To request”—Nikolai straightens, and I swear I see his shoulders tighten before he drops them back—“that she be admitted as a student.”
Dread courses through me, but also adrenaline. Nikolai isn’t sure they’ll let me in. That means there’s leverage, dangerous, slim, but leverage all the same. A terrifying plan takes form in my mind.
Everyone is silent until the Facemaster speaks. “That is the domain of the masters. My duty here is complete.”
He departs, not quite connecting with the ground. Shadows curve away in his wake.
“What are you waiting for?” Sen’ko jerks her chin at Master Koroy. “Test her.”
Koroy yanks a glove off and snatches my wrist with his bare hand.
Lightning screeches through my body, and it’s like my bones are being dragged over stone. Green and orange and violet light explodes around us, and I shriek.
The master yelps and jumps back. His face is blotched red.
“Do you have any training?” His voice cracks, shrill and accusing.
I’m shaking from the barrage of sensations. Do they really believe I have magic? I swallow that thought down, focusing on another far more urgent one. If these masters don’t want to admit me, I might stand a chance.
“How old are you?” Sen’ko gawks at me.
“Younger than she looks,” Nikolai says. “Only nineteen.”
His insult incenses me. I don’t look old. I glare at him before correcting him. “No, I’m twenty-four.”
Everyone stares at me, and I stare right back at Nikolai’s furious frown.
“A terribly unlucky number,” Sen’ko says.
“Absolutely not.” Master Koroy’s cheeks flush an even angrier shade of red. “She should already be in—”
“Intermediate II,” Nikolai says. “Yes, but she never—”
“I will not have her in my class,” Master Koroy spits.
“She is powerful,” Sen’ko muses.
“Even worse,” Koroy mutters.
Sen’ko raises a hand. “I’ll hear the boy out.”
“A sandsmuggler found her,” Nikolai practically snarls.
“Not my problem,” Master Koroy quips. “Exactly how little training has she had?”
“Well…” Nikolai begins. “In our time together, we—”
“No training at all,” I say quickly. Livid green eyes flare; the pretty liar clenches his jaw, and a spiteful satisfaction warms me.
“None?” Koroy’s brows shoot upward.
“That’s correct,” I say. Take that, Nikolai.
“That won’t do,” Sen’ko says. “She’s too dangerous.”
I can hardly breathe, hardly dare to hope that maybe they won’t admit me.
“Far too much power.” Master Koroy nods vigorously.
Power? Dangerous? I want to laugh, but I keep my mouth shut.
“You know what will happen to her,” Nikolai growls out.
I may make it home, make it back to Ezran. My heart flutters. I can almost taste the dusty air of my village.
“They may not find her.” Sen’ko shrugs. “Send her back with the carriage. The matter is settled.”
The rush of relief is dizzying, too good to be true. Beside me, Nikolai almost vibrates with fury. I edge away from his glower as Sen’ko and Koroy begin to turn.
“Wait,” Nikolai mutters. Everything in me goes cold.
“Yes?” Sen’ko says.
“I’ll sponsor her myself.”
The hall goes silent.
“Bloody labyrinth,” Master Koroy hisses. “Even you can’t sponsor an untrained source. I forbid it.”
“Actually”—Sen’ko’s lips quirk up—“sponsorship is a sacred tenet.”
“It would be unheard of.” Koroy practically chokes.
Sen’ko’s eyes glow silver. “Very clever indeed.”
Master Koroy turns on Nikolai. “You sponsor her and you won’t go on any trips again until after exams.”
“Exams are a month away.” Nikolai stiffens, turning to Sen’ko.
She shrugs. “He’s the master of your year. You’ll do as he says.”
Nikolai looks ready to combust, but grumbles, “Fine.”
I’m frozen in place. This can’t be happening. I stare at Nikolai, but he refuses to even look my way. Desperately, my eyes dart around the vast empty hall. No doors. No windows. No escape.
A perfect prison of glass.
“Very interesting,” Sen’ko murmurs, and I swivel to find her silver gaze studying me.
“No,” I blurt out. “Please, don’t—”
“I will see your face in class tomorrow.” Master Koroy glares at me like he’s memorizing every displeasing feature.
The masters turn in unison and stride away. I want to call after them, to plead for my freedom, but the hard line of Nikolai’s mouth makes my throat close.
“You’re coming with me.” His voice is low and harsh.
With no other choice, I follow him.
It doesn’t feel like I’m playing along anymore.