Chapter 30
At breakfast, Maeve scribbled ideas in her journal.
Thoughts about memories, the mind. Anything to ease her own mind.
She hadn’t been able to jump in months. And nothing was helping.
That strange sensation still lingered across her spine from time to time.
And if she focused, she could feel Kietel’s hand around her neck. Choking her. Killing her.
She was desperate to jump again.
Abraxas took a seat across from her without speaking. They sat silently until Abraxas could stand it no longer, and he inhaled to speak.
“No,” said Maeve. “We’re not talking about it.”
Abraxas let out a loud sigh. “I wasn’t even going to.”
Maeve eyed him and returned to her writing. Abraxas crossed his legs one way and then the other way. He fiddled with his fingers and played with a groove in the mahogany table, sighing a few times.
“Sweet Merlin, what is it?” Asked Maeve. “You’re in knots.”
“What did you and Mal talk about after the party?” Asked Abraxas hurriedly.
“I knew it! I knew that’s all you wanted to talk about. You’re so nosey.”
Abraxas rolled his eyes and waited.
Maeve scowled at him and shook her head.
“Fine then,” said Abraxas. “Suppose I won’t tell you what he told Roswyn back in the common room then.”
Maeve’s head whipped up from her paper. “What?”
“You heard me,” said Abraxas haughtily. “You first.”
“You’re evil,” said Maeve.
“Yes.”
“Shut up or leave,” said Maeve.
Abraxas sulked out of the Hall.
Maeve hated that she wanted to know what Mal had said to Roswyn so badly. That smug prick.
She stood, forgetting her breakfast, and hurried out of the hall. She rounded the first corner and Abraxas was already there, leaned casually against the wall waiting for her.
“I told him I was tired of being excluded when I’m better than all of you at everything,” said Maeve quickly.
“He told Roswyn if he stuck his nose in yours and his personal business like that ever again, he’d break it.” Abraxas exhaled loudly.
“Did he really?”
“Roswyn hates you. What’s that all about, you think?”
“I don’t care,” said Maeve cooly. “He’s an idiot with a temper.”
“He was the second strangest until you came around. It seems he feels you’re a bit of a usurper.” Spinel appeared at their feet, chirping loudly. Abraxas picked him up. “For what it’s worth,” said Abraxas, “I wish you were there, with Hummingdoor and the rest, I mean.”
Maeve smiled at him. “Thank you. I know it’s silly, but it’s so frustrating. All I wanted when I was younger was to be in Serpentine. But I understood why I wasn’t. And now, things have changed so much, I thought I would be offered a seat at the table.”
“You want to be in the limelight with him.”
“Yes,” admitted Maeve, playing with his ring around her neck.
“Did we go to the same Summer Solstice Party or not?”
“What?”
Abraxas shook his head with a laugh. “And you’re suppose to be the cleverest of us all, Miss Volaticus.”
Maeve snatched Spinel away from him and walked away.
“Everyone needs to stop saying that,” she muttered to Spinel.
After her daily classes, Maeve laid back on her dorm room bed reading a particularly good chapter of a book Lavinia left for her as a surprise. It was waiting on Maeve’s nightstand, what used to be Lavinia’s nightstand as Head Girl, when she arrived at school. The note read:
I knew you’d come around.
-Lavinia
Spinel was batting at her bag, meowing. Maeve gently removed him and opened her bag. A soft green glow was emitting from the bottom.
Maeve grabbed the piece of parchment and looked at Mal’s handwriting as it scrolled across the page.
After dinner, after duties, meet me on the first floor.
When Maeve arrived, Mal was already waiting for her on the landing.
“Hello,” said Maeve curtly.
“We must not be seen,” said Mal quietly.
“I think we’ve mastered that,” mimicked Maeve.
He began walking, and Maeve followed.
They crossed the grand entryway and began the ascent into the dungeons of the castle. Mal looked over his shoulder as the corridor turned darker. The charm on Maeve’s wrist illuminated, lighting their way.
Ahead in the distance, light spilled into the corridor from the south stairs of the castle. To their right was the descent to the old dungeons, which were only used for storage now.
“What are we doing-” started Maeve in a hushed voice, just as Mal leaned his shoulder into the solid stone wall.
It gave beneath his weight, opening in a perfect rectangle and revealing a narrow set of stairs carved into the stone.
Mal gestured towards the staircase that lowered deep under the castle.
Maeve stepped towards the stairs and held out her arm.
The charm shot light down into the uneven and steep stairs.
She looked back at Mal apprehensively. The hidden stone door was already closing behind him. There was only enough room for the two of them to stand on the top step. Mal snapped his fingers. A beam of hazy light dropped below them.
Mal offered her his hand. She looked down at it and back up at him. She placed her hand in his. His skin was smooth and cool. His fingers wrapped around her own.
He led her down the slick and narrow stairs. She braced her free hand on the stone walls as they made their descent.
“We’re going into the mountain?” Maeve asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
The air grew colder every few steps. Maeve’s grip on Mal’s hand tightened each time the uneven stairs caught her off guard.
Maeve slipped behind Mal, her low heel slipping off her foot.
He whipped towards her, grabbing her by the ribs and bracing her against the wall of the stairwell.
Maeve winced as her back slammed into the stone.
She looked up at him with quick breaths.
“Wonderful,” she sighed. “More for you to hold over me.”
Mal’s dark chuckle filled the tight space. Maeve relaxed into his grip.
Mal didn’t release her. He moved his face towards her shoulder, brushing her hair back from her neck with his nose. Maeve reclined her head as her arms drifted to grip his forearms. He inhaled her scent slowly. His chest rose, pressing into her own.
He pulled back, gently setting her down on the steps. She held her shoeless leg off the cold stone ground beneath them. She balanced herself on the wall. Mal stepped away and reached for her shoe, kneeling in front of her on the step below. He turned back towards her with the shoe in hand.
Maeve held out her hand.
Mal looked up at her. His beam of light fluttering between them. She wasn’t sure why, but the sight of him on his knees was electrifying. Maybe it was just the dangerous way he looked up at her, like she was cornered prey and he was prepared to strike that enticed her. Maybe it was something more.
Mal grabbed the back of her knee, pulling her leg forward as he slipped the shoe back on her foot. She placed her foot on the floor, but his hands remained. They slipped up her leg past her knee and rested on the back of her thigh. She was certain he felt her shake at his touch.
His eyes moved back up to hers. They were filled with satisfaction.
“Careful on the stairs, Sinclair.” He stood and took her hand once more. “We’re nearly there.”
Maeve’s charm on her bracelet began to fade as light lifted up into the winding and narrowing stone steps from below. The light grew consistent and bright as the steps opened into a cavern.
Maeve let out a disbelieving sound as Mal dropped her hand. Green and blue and white light swirled between the sides of the cavern. A portal. This was a doorway between worlds.
But it was old. Permanent portals between realms were mostly all destroyed or weakened by now.
Maeve stepped towards the portal. The shifting colors bounced light across the cavern, like rippling water.
She looked back at him. Above the way they came, there was a carving into the stone.
Filii Magicae Numquam Soli. Children of Magic are Never Alone.
“Does this portal go where I think it goes?” Asked Maeve, her eyes on the Vaukore motto.
Mal took her hand in his once more, pulling her forward.
She was right.
Her heart swelled in her chest. The Dread Lands. Where no Magical had set foot in three hundred years. Adrenaline kicked as he pulled her towards the portal. She gripped his hand tightly and stepped closer to him.
“Have you been through it before?” She asked nervously.
He nodded. “Come.”
“Are you sure we should? It’s safe?’
He looked over his shoulder at her. “Trust me, please.”
The words were so soft, so genuine, that they were almost desperate. She tossed all fear to the wind in order to ensure his desire was obtained. He pressed forward into those swirls of colored light. The portal enveloped them, squeezing them tightly. Sound and light disappeared.
And then the ground beneath her was smooth moonstone.
She looked up.
Mist and shadow covered the land beyond, but before her were two giant serpent statues, each winding their way around the other in a towering archway. Their fangs were bared and their eyes filled with ruby stones.
Maeve gasped at their beauty.
Magic cracked through her lungs, down her chest. Her eyes went wide. She summoned a breathing spell, placing the palm of her hand over her mouth. But no magic flowed.
Another painful inhale, knives across her throat, and Mal’s hands grabbed her shoulders, pulling her back. The serpent pillars vanished as she moved back through the portal.
The caverns below the castle were warm in comparison. Mal dropped his hands, and she stepped away.
“I couldn’t breathe. And my magic-“
“The land is plagued with a darkness that only I can conquer.”
Maeve looked up at him, dumbfounded. “I can’t use magic in the land where I am promised a future?”
“For now,” said Mal. “But I will make it so that you are all that you are on Earth and more in the Dread Lands.”
“You can use your magic there? And you can breathe?”
Mal nodded.
“How many times have you been there?”
Mal hesitated. “Many times. Each time I come back stronger.”
She looked over at the portal.
Mal’s hand tucked under her chin, drawing her focus back towards him.
“There’s a reason the Dread Lands were never occupied by other forces. Magic alone can set foot in those mountains.”
“But we can’t breathe there-“
“We once could,” interjected Mal. “And we will again. I will make it so.”
Maeve stared up at him. “I have no doubt.”
Mal brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. “It is I who doubted you.”
Maeve leaned into his touch like a cat as her eyes fluttered closed.
“I’m sorry I misjudged you at the party.”
She opened her eyes. “It was a misunderstanding. I was thinking foolishly. And I lost my temper.”
Mal continued the smooth motion back and forth across her cheekbone. “I don’t want you to ever be sorry for that. Your rage is valuable. It’s the only time you are truly honest.”
He smiled softly. It was a smile that doused his eyes in swirls of glowing night. Darkness illuminated behind tiny flecks of galaxies.
She batted his hand away and stepped closer. “It is not.”
Mal bent over until they were face to face, sharing one breath. His head cocked to one side.
“Don’t you ever dare to push my hand away again,” he said quietly.
“What will you do?” She asked with feigned innocence.
Mal shook his head. “You are so very wicked.”
In the next breath, he pounced on her. His hands were wrapped around her waist and his lips slammed into hers.
She inhaled all of him happily.
In the breath after that she was against the stone wall, her hair balled in his fist, forcing her mouth open for him.
She gripped his arms, letting out a small moan as he pulled tightly on her hair. He pressed his body against hers. The cold stone behind her seeped through her clothes, sending chills down her body.
His foot pressed between hers, pushing one aside and spreading her legs. He pushed into her harder. His teeth scraped across her bottom lip. She rose on the tips of her toes in response, a silent plea for him to do it again.
And he did. His hands moved down her arms, finding her wrists. Fire erupted between her legs as he pinned them against the stone. Her leg bent, begging him to be closer.
She inhaled sharply, breathing in his scent. It was dark and dangerous and invigorating-
He pushed against her harder.
And then she realized.
He was hard.
He was rock hard against her.
He released just one of her hands, slithering across her ribs, then her waist. His fingers halted at the band of her skirt.
His hands did not shake. His breaths were long and deep. Maeve was the opposite. Every part of her was trembling, shaking beneath his touch.
His fingers meticulously gathered the fabric of her skirt while his lips never left hers.
Her heart slammed into her chest over and over.
It drowned out the fear in her head saying to stop.
Saying that his palm shouldn’t graze her thigh like that.
Saying she shouldn’t feel his smooth fingers on her hips with nothing between them.
That she shouldn’t feel his fingers pull her panties to the side and-
“I want to feel you,” he murmured into her lips.
And in the next move, he would have.
But the world exploded instead.
Their hands shot to their heads as an excruciating and violently piercing sound filled their heads.
Maeve dropped to her knees, dizzy and disoriented.
Mal tried to cast out a shield. But it vanished into nothing.
Maeve screamed as she pressed her hands against her face.
Her insides were on fire. Every ounce of blood in her body was pulsing.
He grabbed her shoulders. His face contorted in pain. He pulled her off the stone floor and ran, dragging her along as she stumbled behind him. Maeve looked around them as they ran. The caverns were whole. Not a single rock or crumble of stone shook.
Her vision blurred in and out of focus as they ascending the winding rock stairs out of the mountains. Waves of paralyzing nausea crashed over her. She pulled on his arm, desperate to just breathe for a moment.
“We must keep going, Maeve.”
She didn’t want to. Her back slid against the stone wall. Mal’s hands slammed to either side of her face.
“Look at me,” he said sternly.
His hand twitched, and his teeth were grinding. He was in pain, too.
“We don’t know what that was,” said Mal. “We can’t stop.”
She nodded, and he took her hand tightly in his own.
Once they reached the dungeons, they bolted to the foyer. The castle was in pure chaos. All the fire lights were dark. Screams and cries filled the nighttime air. Mal’s grip on her hand was still tight.
Fear crept into her bones and settled there. It was everywhere.