Chapter 10
Christmas was almost here. Mirror Lake, which sat nestled between the castle and the foothills of the mountains, had frozen solid seemingly overnight, and Maeve was anxious to see her father soon.
The East Wing of the castle had a perfect view of the reflecting pool of water.
She had received a detailed letter from him about all their plans for the Christmas Holiday, and how he couldn’t wait to see her.
There were only a few exams left to get through, and Maeve wasn’t worried about any of them. However, she was concerned that she hadn’t seen Spinel in a few days, which was uncommon, even for her exceptionally curious cat.
She walked the corridors calling his name early one evening with a bit of meat she had taken from dinner. Around the corner, she came face to face with Roswyn. Maeve gasped as they almost collided, but smoothly moved around him.
He stared at her for a moment.
“What are you doing with that meat?”
“Looking for my cat,” said Maeve indignantly. She had not forgiven Roswyn for their last altercation. “I’d say you owe me an apology, but based on the bruises still lingering on your face, you got what you deserved.”
Roswyn’s temper swelled, and he tried to steady his breathing.
“I must really get under your skin,” laughed Maeve.
“I guess I just don’t understand it,” said Roswyn, his face sour.
Maeve raised her eyebrows, and he continued.
“You weren’t even worthy of being sorted into Serpentine Court, no matter how pure your blood is.”
Maeve’s heart rate began increasing at his comment. She changed the subject.
“You and Emerie having fun?”
Roswyn smirked. “I picked her years ago. Turns out she’s as good as I imagined.”
“Too bad about her magic though.”
Roswyn glared at her.
“A lineage of seers and not single prophecy made.” Maeve clicked her tongue.
“Yeah,” said Roswyn. “But that Cauldron still chose her over you.”
Maeve’s smirk faltered against her will. Roswyn smiled.
“So I don’t get it. I don’t get why he gives you the time of day.”
“Couldn’t say,” said Maeve. “Perhaps he grows tired of listening to you whine.”
Roswyn laughed. “He’ll grow tired of you soon enough. One way or another. Clock is ticking. When’s your twenty-second birthday again?”
Roswyn hit his mark. Maeve cheeks flushed hot. Roswyn nodded in triumph. “Thank Merlin it’s not me.”
“You’ve got that damn right.” Maeve rolled her eyes and turned away from him to continue her search for Spinel.
After over an hour of searching, Maeve sat on the main steps of the castle, just outside the Great Hall. Roswyn’s comment lingered in her mind.
From the side corridor emerged Headmaster Elgin. Her long gray hair was loose and free.
“Good evening, Maeve.”
“Evening, Madam,” said Maeve politely.
Elgin stopped and observed her. “What seems to be the matter?” Asked Elgin.
“My cat,” said Maeve. “I haven’t seen him in a few days, which is not like him.”
“The black one, with the odd colored eyes?”
Maeve nodded.
“Oh, I’m certain he’ll turn up,” said Elgin. “Cats are brilliant creatures, and you know what they say?” Maeve waited for her to continue. “They say they take after their owners, which makes him the second brightest cat at Vaukore.”
Maeve’s brow’s raised, certain she had never heard Elgin crack a joke. Maeve smiled at this attempt to cheer her up.
“If I may speak boldly,” said Elgin, “I have noticed you and Mr. Peur have become close-”
Maeve laughed. “Why is everyone so fixated on that?”
“Forgive me,” said Elgin genuinely. “It’s just that it can be incredibly lonely to be, so to say, above the rest. When I made Bellator straight out of school even those closest to me became distant.”
“You were a Bellator? In the Magical Militia or Law Enforcement?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Your Father was a Captain then. When the time came I chose Magical Law. Not the military.”
Maeve smiled. “I’ve heard he was beloved then.”
Elgin nodded. “He was a marvel. His leadership capabilities were unmatched. His Pureblood Magic was, and still is, a force to be reckoned.”
“That’s funny,” said Maeve. “I don’t see him that way.”
“Of course not,” said Elgin gently. “At any rate, I only meant that you and Mr. Peur are both incredibly gifted, and I hope the pair of you can assist one another in your magical journey.”
Maeve looked away. “Yes. He’s helped me a great deal.”
Elgin nodded. “And I believe you are capable of doing the same.”
Maeve smiled. “Thank you. I think I’ll head to bed now.”
“Goodnight, Maeve.”
Maeve stood, turned, and made her way back up the stairs, resigning to go to bed without Spinel.
On the final day of classes before Christmas, and Maeve finished her History of Magicals essay in record time. She sat down at a desk in the common room to write a brief note to attach to the gift she was giving Mal.
Malachite,
Thank you for all your help this term.
I hope you like this token of my appreciation.
Maeve
She rolled the note up and tied the little purple box with a green ribbon. This gift was a last-minute decision on Maeve’s part, prompted by Abraxas mentioning that Mal’s birthday was on the winter solstice on New Years Eve, for which he’d be alone.
“Funny,” Abraxas had said, as he copied her notes from Curses and Their Counters Class, “Yours was the Autumn Equinox. Which you wouldn’t let me celebrate for you this year.”
Maeve had ignored him. She didn’t enjoy celebrating her birthday any year.
She placed the gift in her bag and went down to The Dining Hall.
After having a bite to eat, she made her way across the room to one of the long mahogany tables, where Mal sat.
“Going to Hummingdoor’s party tonight?” Inquired Maeve.
“I am,” said Mal. “I’m a proud member of The Humm Birds.”
Maeve laughed.
“Well, I’m off to pack for the holiday. I wanted to give you this before tonight, even though it’s next week.” Maeve reached into her bag and handed him the small purple box tied up with green string. “Happy Birthday.”
Mal looked dumbfounded. He looked twice from the present and back at her, and then began tugging at the string.
“Oh Heavens, no,” said Maeve. “Don’t open it in front of me. I don’t want to see the look on your face if you hate it. See you tonight.”
Maeve flounced away, leaving Mal looking somewhat confused.
Hummingdoor’s party was, as usual, lavishly decorated. Gold and emerald drapes with sparkling moons hung about the hall. A large table stacked with food, including a giant chocolate fountain, ran along the center of the packed hall.
“You look lovely, Maeve,” said Abraxas, taking her arm. “I do always say silver is your color.”
“Thank you, cousin.” Maeve smiled at him.
“Bet you’re ready to be home.”
“Dying,” corrected Maeve. “Though, this Christmas marks seven years since Antony’s death. . .”
Abraxas stopped walking and looked at her, stunned.
“You. . . you never talk about him.”
Maeve gave him a small smile and looked away.
“No, no, no,” said Abraxas, grabbing her arms. “You can talk about anything you like, of course. It just caught me off guard.”
Maeve thanked him and smiled. “I suppose I’m trying to stop running away from it.”
Abraxas nodded. “Let’s get some drinks, shall we?”
Abraxas poured her a full glass of dragon whiskey, and even though she protested, he shoved it in her hand regardless.
“One drink, Maeve,” said Abraxas, clicking his goblet against hers.
“Fine,” she relented without a smile.
They were seated at a table of students playing a card game, all of their cheeks flushed red as Abraxas told a hilarious story. Maeve pretended to drink her bright green beverage and poured it in Abraxas’ cup when he wasn’t paying attention.
“Damn it, Rosethorn,” growled Randolf Grisham, throwing down his cards. “Your incessant yapping makes it hard to concentrate.”
Abraxas didn’t respond and pulled the money at the center of the table towards himself. Maeve laughed, tossing her losing hand into the deck.
“Phineus, you can take my spot,” said Maeve.
She stood, patting Abraxas on the shoulder, and slipped away. She found a small table on the far side of the room and seated herself.
Even though it was his party, Maeve saw very little of the Alchemy Professor. He eventually got so drunk that Henry Willis had to escort him to bed while he slurred and shouted for everyone to enjoy their dinner.
She watched a few students dancing to the music, wondering if she would waltz at any of the parties over the holiday. Her father was an excellent dancing partner.
Mal’s entrance immediately caught her eye. He was wearing a black turtle neck sweater, which fit him nicely, and grey slacks. She watched him make his through the crowd. His charming nature was at its peak tonight.
After a moment, he spotted Maeve, excused himself from his conversation, and made his way toward her.
“I’ve noticed your affinity for sitting alone,” said Mal, “but do you mind if I join you?”
“Not at all,” said Maeve gesturing to the seat beside her.
He pulled out the chair and as he sat he watched her for a moment.
“Thank you for the gift,” he said finally.
“It’s tradition to give a Magical a watch for their twenty-first birthday. Since I won’t see you on your actual birthday, I figured I would go ahead.”
Mal pulled the sleeve of his sweater back slightly, revealing the gold watch with an emerald inlay. The two hands were serpents with bright red tongues, and the numbers were ancient ruins.
“You didn’t have to,” said Mal.
“I know that.”
Maeve reached out her hand without thinking and ran her fingers over the face of the watch. The sapphire ring on her finger complimented it perfectly.
“It really is lovely,” she whispered.