Chapter 47 Taera
Taera
We walk to class in silence. When we arrive, Nikolai occupies himself with his pale book. I can’t help but wonder what secrets those strange symbols conceal, and what they have to do with his sister.
“She’s still here,” Jezebel announces loudly, smiling sweetly at me. “Guess she couldn’t kick the Niko fixation.”
The throbbing in my head worsens. I haven’t had a headache like this since before I arrived at the Halls of Glass, back when I had the persistent gnawing inside my skull.
I haven’t missed it one bit. I look down at my desk.
I should have brought a textbook to study, something to disappear into, rather than listen to students chatter about me.
“Do you want a kiss?” somebody calls, and I glare up at them. They all laugh.
A week and a half left. Then at least I’ll be free of these monsters and… tossed in with a bunch of brand-new magicians with no training. Great.
Even after that, I’ll be trapped here in the Halls for the foreseeable future. My fate stretches forth like looking into dark sludge; I’m helpless to see my family again for years.
My will to keep fighting—to keep searching for another way out—is slipping away like sand.
Master Koroy occupies the class with writing activities I don’t understand, involving complex etchings reminiscent of math.
It doesn’t stop the students near me from gossiping or laughing at my expense.
I shift in my seat, wishing I could crawl out of my own skin.
I receive one smile, from Omi, and try to return it.
“Aww, has the first year made a friend?” Jezebel claps excitedly. “The two of them should be sent down to first year together. The mouse and the weakling.”
Omi flinches and turns away. Anger hisses up my throat, but I can’t do anything. Not without aggravating the situation. My tormentors are just like a little brother, I tell myself; ignore their taunts and they’ll go away.
Except here they don’t.
It takes forever for morning classes to end. I’m the first one to rush out the door, heading back to Nikolai’s chambers. I can’t face sitting in the dining hall all through lunch. I’d rather eat alone. Be alone.
I should know the way by now, but today the hallways curve. All the walls mirror my frustration, and I find myself dizzy, my head throbbing. The black welts reappear on my neck and face, now that I’m outside the range of Nikolai’s magic.
Panic pricks hot under my ribs. I cover my neck with my hands and hurry ahead.
“Mousie, mousie, mousie!” a sing-song voice calls.
I stop in place, turn around, and hustle back in the opposite direction.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jezebel calls out behind me.
“Anywhere else,” I mutter.
“What’s the hurry?” She catches up to me.
I pinch my eyes shut. Not now. Not with the pain in my head and weight in my limbs.
“What do you want?” I say, keeping my voice neutral.
“Look at that.” A broad, beautiful smile takes over her face. “Uglier than ever.”
“What is it?” Charlotte says. She and Jess take each side of Jezebel.
Jezebel claps a hand over her mouth, feigning horror. “The marks.”
The pain in my head amplifies with incredulity, and I narrow my eyes.
“Holy labyrinth.” Jess gasps beside her.
“The poor mouse must have been devastated when Niko rejected her.” Jezebel shakes her head, her eyes soft and sorrowful. “Heartbroken enough that she tried to drain her own magic.”
“That’s terrible,” Charlotte whispers.
I clench my jaw, not engaging.
“Girls”—Jezebel addresses her two lackeys—“the mouse needs me. Can’t you see she’s hurting? Leave us alone for a minute.”
I frown, but Jess and Charlotte are already nodding, then backing away. As soon as the other two are out of sight, Jezebel smiles widely.
“I didn’t expect you to still be here,” she murmurs.
“You’re a monster.”
“No more than your precious Niko.” Jezebel smirks. “You will be too, after a few years here.”
I don’t understand her. “Why are you like this?”
Jezebel cocks her head to the side, assessing me. For one fleeting breath, I think I see a flash of something softer on her face. “Because I was just like you, until you stole him.”
I blink at her, wondering who she was before she became cruel—if that version of her ever existed.
Her eyes harden, fully amber. “Too bad his new source is such a failure.”
I sigh.
She scowls, remaining quiet for a moment longer than feels natural. “Too bad you’re too much of a firecracker to make it through Intermediate II. Surrounded by powerful magicians, you could learn everything you need to know in a few months.”
I know I shouldn’t, but I’m compelled to call out her lie. “It takes years to learn magic.”
“Oh, Niko never told you?” Jezebel’s glee is written on her face. “First years take that long because they’re all so useless. You’ll waste a year or two before any of those conduits can even touch you.”
There isn’t a faster way to learn magic; Nikolai said so. Even the stupid truth marble said so. She has to be lying.
“Taera!” Annie calls out from behind us. I glance up to see her and Omi approaching, and the ice in my chest melts.
Jezebel scowls, then turns and stalks away. But her words linger in my mind. She can’t be telling the truth. She’s just messing with me.
“Oh, desert.” Annie gasps and claps a hand over her mouth.
“What?” I ask, glancing around.
Omi stares at my neck. “Those marks.”
I raise a hand, even knowing that it’s too late. Everyone will probably know within a few hours anyway.
“Who—did you do this?” Annie lowers her hand to her heart, her brow furrowed.
“Doesn’t matter,” I mutter.
“Oh, desert.” Omi’s face has gone pale. “This is my fault.”
“It’s not,” I counter.
“I’m sorry,” they whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I say again, harsher this time. “You can make it up to me by clearing something up.”
“Of course,” Annie says. Omi nods vigorously.
I don’t know why I can’t let go of Jezebel’s taunts. But the way she hesitated—probably just another trick—made her seem almost reluctant to tell me.
“If I could somehow stay in Intermediate II, instead of being sent down to first year,” I say slowly, “how long would it take to learn enough magic to leave this place?”
Annie gives a sympathetic smile. “Tae, I love your enthusiasm, but you making it through exams… There’s just no way.”
“But if I could,” I repeat.
“We’ll miss you. But first year is safer. And you’d make enemies if you took someone’s spot in Intermediate II.” Annie dodges my question again.
I feel a little breathless.
“How long?” I demand.
“A few months,” Omi whispers. “If you trained with the right conduits.”
The words seem to fall out of them—accidental, horrified—like they suddenly realize what they’ve just revealed.
My breath escapes in a rush, and my mind races.
Months, not years.
Once again, Nikolai lied by omission.
Not just him.
Annie didn’t tell me.
Omi didn’t tell me.
No one except Jezebel. And only to rub it in my face when I fail. She wouldn’t have told me if she thought I stood a chance.
The pounding in my skull fades beneath a surge of fierce clarity. My muscles ache, my neck burns, but underneath all of it, something hardens—something sharp and stubborn and entirely mine.
“I’m going to do it,” I whisper.
The words taste like fire.
I’m going to prove every single one of them wrong.