Chapter 8 – Wave
Nerves were getting the better of Wave, and only Risha’s steady hand on her back made her step up and knock on the door.
“You don’t have a key?”
“No. I didn’t have anything on me when I—you know—went to jail. But even if I did, I wouldn’t just barge in after all that’s happened. It’s their space,” she replied hesitantly. She half expected Risha to roll his eyes, but he nodded.
“I get it,” he said. “Remember, you can always crash at my place if need be.”
The door flew open and a furious Chrissy glared at them. “You”—she pointed at Irishen—“are not coming in.” Then she rounded on Wave. “And you! Why are you knocking? It’s your ho—”
“She didn’t have the key,” Irishen interrupted Chrissy’s rant and nudged Wave forward. “Get Salis to call me if you need a ride, morsel.”
“She won’t,” Chrissy hissed. Then she grabbed Wave’s arm and yanked her inside and slammed the door shut behind them.
Warily, Wave looked around. Diana and Salis were sitting on the couch, looking like they had slept there. Ginny was brewing the blackest coffee Wave had ever seen, and Chrissy looked furious and glorious, as always.
“Well? Start explaining, missy,” Chrissy demanded.
“Are you all right, Way?” Salis asked.
“We were so worried,” Diana blurted out.
Ginny crossed her arms and waited Wave out.
Wave wasn’t sure where to start, so she rushed the most painful words out first. “Ten years ago, my father was assassinated.”
Chrissy paled and took a step back. Ginny’s eyes softened and Salis wrapped an arm around a teary Diana.
“As long as I didn’t claim the power… it wasn’t real,” Wave whispered.
“Oh, Wayla.” Chrissy sighed and threw her arms around Wave. She hugged her hard and long. Eventually, Ginny spoke up.
“But why did you say you were a storm spirit?”
Chrissy released her and she hesitantly stepped farther into the room. “I… it… spirits…”
It was Salis who came to her rescue. “Stormbringers, even off branch, are nobility. Isn’t that so, Lady Stormwell?”
When Wave nodded mutely, Salis continued.
“That would mean more curious eyes, more expectations, more questions. Politics.”
Wave nodded again.
“You should have seen the way the headmaster spoke to her after the trial,” Salis added, throwing Wave a sympathetic look. “He wanted to change her schedule and move her to more appropriate lodgings immediately.”
“Move? You can’t move!” Chrissy shrieked. “I won’t have it.”
A smirk flitted over Salis’s face so fast that Wave would have missed it, if she hadn’t been looking straight at him.
“I—we would like you to stay,” Diana said hesitantly. “Of course, if you want to—”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Ginny declared with narrowed eyes. “Are you, Wayla?”
All the tension bled from Wave’s shoulders and she sagged. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me to stay after—”
“Nonsense,” Ginny declared. “We might be hurt that you didn’t tell us, but Salis has made some good points. I just want to know one thing. Did you lie beyond omission?”
Wave shook her head. “No. I… didn’t tell everything, but I didn’t lie.”
“Then it’s all right,” Diana said with a smile. “We haven’t known each other that long. I get why trusting someone you just met would be difficult.”
“About that,” Wave hedged and then decided to just lay it out there. “Um… Irishen—”
Chrissy stuck her fingers into her ears and started singing la-la-la. Wave faltered before locking eyes with Diana.
“He might be my mate,” she mouthed soundlessly.
There was no other explanation as to why her magic accepted his so readily.
How he had been able to get through to her with the storm raging and breaking her apart.
Wave wasn’t sure how he felt about that, so she pushed it aside.
She could always have a meltdown about having a mate later.
Salis’s eyes were the size of a plate and Diana was clutching his hand, but her face remained calm. After a moment, she seemed to come to some conclusion and nodded.
“Are you two together?”
Wave shook her head vehemently. “I’m not with anyone.”
“Yet,” Diana said with a rueful smile.
“I’m not—”
The rest of the room fell silent when ice crackled over Wave’s hands. Disgusted, she looked down and shook them, dispelling the ice into steam. Diana snorted and Salis soon followed.
“Yeah, this is going to be interesting,” Ginny muttered.
Chrissy chose that moment to pull her fingers out of her ears and glare at them all. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing important.” Diana giggled.
Chrissy looked suspicious for a moment, but then she blanched and spun to face Salis. “And what did you mean with the lady shit? What lady?”
Salis pointed at Wave.
Ginny groaned. “Do I have to call you a lady and curtsy and all that from now on?”
Before Wave could answer, Chrissy was tearing out her hair.
“No, no, no. She can’t be a lady!”
“Why not?” Now Diana sounded hurt on Wave’s behalf. “I think she’s—”
Chrissy completely ignored Diana, mumbling, “Father will never let me live it down if I’ve let a lady leave the apartment looking like that. Please tell me this is a joke?”
“Looking like what?” Salis retorted.
“Look at her!” Chrissy’s voice rose to the higher pitches. “She wears sneakers! She can’t—” Her gaze moved down, and she paled when she saw Wave’s prison-issued shoes. “What are those?”
“Well—”
“Are you telling me you’ve been walking around and seen in those!?”
“I was in jail, you know. They didn’t really care about fashion statements,” Wave mumbled.
“Aaargh!” Chrissy screamed loud enough that even Ginny covered her ears. “You can’t be serious? Of course they care! No one in their right mind would let a lady wear clothes like that. It’s a grave offense. Even with a death sentence, a lady would have proper clothing provided.”
“But—”
“I need to overhaul your closet immediately. You can’t—”
“Don’t you dare touch my clothes,” Wave gasped.
“Touch them? I should burn them!” Chrissy ranted. “None of it is up to par.”
“I don’t care,” Wave tried to say, but Chrissy wasn’t having any of it.
“Others do care. What you wear makes a statement one way or another, whether you want it to or not. If they see you looking like someone they can walk over, they will try. It’s about image and status, Wayla.”
“I hate lace.” Wave pouted. “And I’m not wearing heels.” She knew she sounded petulant, but she really hated heels. Who the hell, besides Chrissy, could run in heels?
“She is kinda right, Wayla,” Ginny waded in. “Anything you wore previously will be dismissed as a disguise, but from now on, every single thing you wear will be scrutinized.”
“But I don’t—”
“How about a compromise?” Diana, ever the diplomat, jumped in.
“I’m listening,” Chrissy said with a huff.
“You don’t steamroll over Wayla’s taste on what kind of clothes she likes to wear and Wayla, in turn, won’t complain about the materials, more flattering cuts, and better tailoring?”
Chrissy didn’t look happy, but she did eye Wayla up and down with calculating eyes. “Not a peep about ditching all that cheap crap and wearing spider silk and feather wool?”
“Fine, but no heels and I need to be able to run in anything you put me in,” Wave replied.
Ginny clapped her hands together. “Now that that’s settled, can we talk about the serious stuff?”
Wave looked at her, baffled. “What?”
“You are going back to school tomorrow, I assume?”
“Yes?”
“The whole campus is going to be a beehive about the news. We need a plan.” Now there was a gleam in Ginny’s eyes that Wave hadn’t seen before. “I’ve been studying the art of war and tactics. I have some ideas.”
“I think I’m going to—” Salis tried to get up, but Ginny pointed a finger at him and he slumped back down.
“You are not escaping this, angel. We need all hands and wings on deck for this to succeed. Now, who wants coffee?”