10. Stage of Grief Depression #3
Axel waved at me to drink, his eyes bright, cheeks filling with healthy color as he gulped.
Steeling myself, I took a tiny sip and gasped.
It tasted like sweet cherries, utterly delicious, but as soon as I took a deeper gulp, it soured.
A horrible deathly aftertaste overwhelmed my taste buds.
I gagged, covering my mouth with the back of my hand.
Rancid. Whatever they’d given me had gone bad.
“What in the damned? That was disgusting.”
Everyone stared at me. Even Squire leaned over my forehead, yellow eyes bright.
“What?” I asked.
Axel pushed his drink aside and grabbed mine, taking a long sip.
“It tastes delicious to me,” he said with confusion, licking maroon off his lips.
“Like sweet cherries?” I asked.
“Yes,” Ella said as she put down her empty tankard. “Do you not like it?” The juice stained her teeth as she spoke, and she licked it away.
“I did at first,” I said. “But then it . . . soured, like it was spoiled.”
Axel sucked down my drink noisily, shaking his head no.
“You’re a Mage,” I said to Tarantula accusingly. “Why don’t you drink it?”
His eyes were wide behind his mask, and his lips were pressed into a straight line. He looked unsettled. “I also do not enjoy the taste,” he whispered, as if perturbed by something grievous.
“So what—” I made air quotes “—‘Mage juice’ do you drink?”
He shook his head curtly. “I do not.”
“Okay,” I said. “Then I won’t either. That settles it. I don’t need to—”
“Drink, Ravenal.” He cut me off, his tone more frightening than when I’d attempted to kill him via helicopter jump, or when he’d found out that I’d posed for a portrait with his unconscious stabbed body. I have no regrets.
Moving quicker than my eye could track, he reached across the table and grabbed the tankard from Axel’s hand. He placed it in front of me. Axel looked sheepish, like he’d been caught doing something bad.
“Obey, Ravenal,” Tarantula ordered. “Quench your thirst.”
“Um, no. Why would I listen to—”
“DRINK, MY VASSAL!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs.
My braid whipped as gusts of silver wind exploded through the room. I picked up the half-full drink and chugged, gagging, struggling to get it down. When I finished, I paused, heaving for air, the empty tankard in my hands. I stared at it, then slowly looked up.
Tarantula’s eyes were narrowed into slits.
“How dare you.” I chucked it at him as hard as I could. His hand snapped up, and he caught it, a hair’s breadth away from his face.
A long pause stretched.
He chucked the tankard back at me.
I ducked just in time. Wood exploded into shards against the wall behind me.
“You bastard, you almost hit Squire. What did you just do to me?”
“What do you mean, Zora?” Axel asked with sudden seriousness. “He didn’t . . . do anything.” Ella looked confused beside him. “He just yelled at you to drink, and you did.”
I shook my head, looking down at the frost covering my skin. “No, the magic exploded from him. I felt it. I saw it.”
“What are you talking about?” Axel looked disturbed. “We were here the entire time. There was no magic. We didn’t see or feel . . . anything.”
They looked worried.
I took a deep, steadying breath, nodding calmly. Shoving my chair back, I threw myself at Tarantula, fists flying. “Tell me what you did!” He grabbed my arms as we grappled, pinning them behind my back. I kicked his shin, and he smiled.
“Simmer down, Ravenal. Thou art embarrassing yourself, again,” he said patronizingly, like he was talking to a child.
I spit onto his cheek.
He went dangerously still, breath hitching. Leaning closer, he brought his mouth to my ear. “Do that again,” he said quietly. “I dare thee.” Magic thickened around him.
“What are you—”
“Spit on me.” He laughed with what sounded like genuine mirth as I froze. “Ah, I see. Do thou wish for me to do the spitting? I shall oblige.” His eyes hardened. “Stick out your tongue, Ravenal.”
Excuse me?
I shoved him back, stumbling away while he stood rigid and heavy-lidded, swathed in satisfaction. Or perhaps it’s dissatisfaction? Maliciousness took many forms, and he was impossible to read.
Shivering, cold to the bone, I backed away.
He cracked his neck loudly like he was preparing to fight, magic glowing as it gathered around his hands. Ella threw herself in front of me protectively, crossing her arms in a Shield. Axel stepped beside her.
Three versus one, the odds were not in our favor.
Hazy silver transmuted into flickering flames, gathering around Tarantula’s skull as he glared at Axel like he was trying to incinerate him with his eyes. Magic acted strangely around Tarantula, clinging to his pores, darkening, warping.
“Step aside from my Ravenal, jester.”
Axel scoffed. “No.”
His Ravenal?
I pushed in front of the twins. “Hurt them,” I said as I picked up the forgotten dial, regaining my wits, “and I won’t stop until your skin melts from your bones.”
Tensing, I waited for his retaliation.
His lashes fluttered, nostrils flaring. Vicious amusement flickered across his face. Long, painful seconds passed, and just when I thought he would strike, a coiled dire viper ready to explode, his shoulders relaxed.
“ ’Tis time for your evening training, Ravenal.” His voice was clipped with cruel amusement. “Accompany me to the desert. Now.”
The twins sighed with audible relief.
“All three of thee.”
This time I wasn’t the only one who swore.