Chapter 14 #2
Her command ripples outward with physical force. Everything stops. The fleeing students freeze mid-stride. The flashes of magic dissipate. Even the wind seems to hold its breath, leaves suspended in the vortex of chaos.
In this strange pocket of stillness, only the guardian bird, the headmistress, and I remain animated.
“Speak, Guardian. Why have you assaulted this student?”
“She carries the echo of a broken oath,” it repeats.
“What oath?” I cry out, my voice thin and panicked. “What are you talking about? I don’t know what you’re saying!”
The creature responds by pressing down harder with its talons, and blackness overwhelms me, threatening to pull me into unconsciousness.
The pain that explodes through my upper body is excruciating, and my powers vibrate violently in response.
My shoulders burn under the pressure, and I swear I might physically tear apart.
“Stand down, Guardian!” Briar’s voice rings out, firm and laced with something more—a magical resonance that makes my teeth vibrate. “The girl is unawakened. She poses no threat.”
The bird’s head swivels toward the headmistress, then back to me. It hesitates, talons flexing. Then it pulls its curved beak so close to my face that I can see my own terrified reflection in its polished eyes.
“Unawakened does not mean innocent,” it snarls, breath hot against my skin. “The mark of a demon clings to her bones.”
A spectral image flashes in the air behind the creature—translucent, shimmering, but unmistakable. A woman with my eyes, surrounded by writhing, twisted shadows, their ghostly fingers clutching at her clothes, her hair, her skin.
Mom?
It’s her, but not as I’ve seen her in any pictures. This version of her looks haunted, her face contorted in a mixture of fear and determination. The spirits pull at her, and she fights against their grasp, her mouth open in a silent scream.
The vision dissolves as quickly as it appeared, but the image burns itself into my memory.
Headmistress Briar’s composure cracks for a moment—her eyes widen, lips parting in surprise. But she recovers almost instantly, lifting her chin and addressing the guardian in a voice that allows no argument.
“Guardian, you will stand down. Now.”
The creature ruffles its feathers, and it sounds like the clashing of swords. For a terrifying moment, I think it will refuse to obey, that its massive beak will descend and end me right here.
Instead, it pushes off with explosive force. The sudden release of pressure tears another scream from my throat as air rushes back into my lungs. Massive wings beat the air, creating a windstorm that whips my hair across my face.
The guardian rises into the night sky, but instead of flying away, it disperses, its solid form dissolving into a swirling column of black feathers and mist. A ripple of magic surges outward from the dissipation, knocking several frozen students off their feet.
As quickly as it began, it’s over.
The guardian is gone.
Silence descends, heavy and uncertain.
I curl onto my side, my shoulders bleeding, acutely aware of hundreds of eyes fixed on me. No one speaks. No one helps me. They just stare, their faces locked in horror, suspicion, and fear.
Orion is on his knees in front of me in a heartbeat and I’m pretty sure it’s Eliza at my back. “Poppy? Are you okay?”
How do I answer that? In the past two minutes, I’ve been attacked, impaled, watched my mother being consumed by ghosts, and will certainly be ostracized by everyone who witnessed the dysfunction that is my life.
“Hopefully, I’ll bleed out and won’t have to endure the humiliation of facing people after that.”
Orion lets out a soft chuckle. “Likely not. The healers will fix you up. But don’t worry, I don’t think anyone even noticed.”
I close my eyes. “Oh, good.”
Headmistress Briar approaches with measured steps, her expression unreadable. When she stands over me, she looks past me to where Laurel stands. “Heal her and then take her to my office.”
Two women in gold cloaks rush to my side. They ease me onto my back and then each of them lays both hands on one of my shoulders and the affected areas below. The moment their healing powers engage, my eyes roll back in my head, and I sag with the removal of pain.
Magic is still a foreign wonder, but it’s nice to know it isn’t all about power and control.
Too soon, the warmth of their healing ends, and I open my eyes to find Laurel frowning down at the blood soaking through my shredded shirt in wet, scarlet blooms. “Wylder!”
“I’ve got her.” Orion peels off his t-shirt, and with Eliza’s help, gets my arms into the sleeves and tugs it down to cover my body. Then, he scoops me off the ground and stands as if I weigh nothing.
I expect the movement to make my shoulders burn in protest, but no pain comes. “Thanks, but no thanks. Put me down. I’ll walk.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. The only thing more humiliating than what happened would be being carried away afterward.”
“Your call, Popstar.”
Orion sets me down and holds me steady, so I don’t stumble forward on shaky legs. Sadly, despite my shoulders being healed, the panic and adrenaline are still doing a number on my nervous system. And now, with the physical pain gone, humiliation burns through me like wildfire.
What just happened? And why the hell did it have to happen to me?
I’m about to ask Orion about what the mark of a demon clinging to my bones means, but he shakes his head. Wylder catches up with us and won’t even look at me.
Laurel sure as hell isn’t looking at me.
It’s like Orion warned me. I’m a pariah because of my mother.
My powers buzz painfully under my skin, like nettles jabbing at me from every direction. I want to scream, to demand answers, to go back to Halloween night and never have this happen. “I didn’t break any oaths. I don’t understand any of this.”
Laurel walks silently beside me, her posture rigid. When she finally speaks, her voice is controlled but grim. “Regardless, if you have been marked by a demon, it’s your mother’s doing.”
What? First, her sin was messing with the undead, and now it’s demons? What the hell was the problem Sebastian needed help with?
What did you do, Mom? What have you gotten me into?
I enter the Arcana training academy on unsteady legs, the word “demon” echoing in my head like a death knell. Laurel guides our group through a massive set of elaborately carved doors, across a stone foyer, and up a wide, grand staircase.
At the top of the staircase, overseeing the entire entrance, is a wide doorway with a black and copper placard.
Office of Headmistress Briar.
The door itself is hidden behind a lush green curtain of twisting vines and woody branches. As we approach, the natural wall parts like two halves of heavy drapes being pulled open.
I blink and look around, wondering if the living barrier is sentient or if someone commanded it to allow us entry.
Laurel opens the door behind and leads the way inside.
The office is circular, like stepping inside a planetarium dome. Soft light emanates from spell-lanterns suspended in mid-air, casting gentle shadows across the walls. A half-moon desk dominates the center of the space, carved from a black wood that seems to ripple and shift with subtle magic.
It’s like the furniture itself is breathing.
“Sit.” Laurel gestures to an oversized armchair before the desk. “Wylder will help settle your powers before we have another incident like the one at the warehouse.”
I lower myself into the chair, biting back my retort. The incident at the warehouse was on them, but she says it like I’m the one at fault.
Wylder doesn’t seem to care whether I want his help or not. He stands in front of me, perches his ass on the edge of the desk, and frowns. “Lean back and close your eyes. Try to calm your emotions.”
“Closing my eyes with you glaring at me and standing this close will not calm my emotions. You’ll probably grow a cactus spike from your finger and stab me through the temple.”
He scowls. “It’s tempting, but I won’t.”
“Well, forgive me for not believing you, Plant Man. You’ve fucked me over before.”
He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Orion, get in here. Talk some sense into her, will you?”
Orion jogs inside and shifts the second chair to face me. “It’s cool, Poppy. Your magic is chaotic. Let him help, and I’ll monitor things, okay?”
It’s impossible to doubt the sincerity in Orion’s icy blue eyes, and I draw a steadying breath. “Okay, thanks.”
I lean my head back, noticing how books float in a lazy orbit around the perimeter of the room above. They spin gently, making it seem like the entire ceiling is alive with movement.
“Close your eyes.”
I fight the urge to be difficult and counter everything Wylder says, but despite the way Laurel spoke to me, I actually don’t want a repeat of what happened in the warehouse.
I wriggle a little deeper into the chair and try to relax.
With my eyes closed, it’s alarming how chaotically my power buzzes under my skin. It’s sharp and electric, like being covered in invisible stinging nettles. It’s getting worse, not better, biting at my flesh from the inside, pushing to get out.
I clench my fists, trying to maintain control.
“Calm, Poppy.” Wylder’s voice is softer now, coaxing serenity I don’t feel. “Acknowledge that your power is trying to protect you, and assure yourself that you’re safe.”
But am I? I don’t feel safe.
“We’ve got you, Popstar,” Orion says beside me. “Relax. Picture you and Asher hanging out, doing what you do when you feel like everything is right in the world.”
That I can do.
My smile may be out-of-place considering the circumstances, but there’s nothing about my bestie that doesn’t make my life feel better, safer, more manageable.
I drift away from Wylder and whatever he’s doing, and focus on spending a moment gathering myself with the support of Asher. Even across the divide of whatever pocket world I’m in, I feel the steadfast love and support of my best friend.