Chapter 21 Crayons and Courts
CRAYONS AND COURTS
As Scarlet and I reach the bottom step, Griffin, Daire, Kai, and Holden fall silent.
Their eyes comb over me with an intensity that makes me want to cover myself.
I hate wondering if they’re comparing this to what I look like every other day—to what I looked while imprisoned. It feels fake. I feel fake.
“You look beautiful,” Griffin says.
I avert my gaze, resisting the impulse to wipe the makeup off and change back into sweats to remind him what I actually look like.
“Why don’t we have breakfast?” Holden suggests.
“I don’t want to be late,” I tell him, clutching the bags a bit tighter.
“It’s only been a week,” Daire says. “You haven’t even healed fully. Maybe we should delay this. Bring in tutors—”
“Kandi’s already asking too many questions,” Holden says. “Having her in our wing, missing work… we’re raising too many red flags.”
“Loch’s handling Kandi,” Griffin says.
Kai doesn’t speak, but he watches everything—including my wince as I question exactly what ‘handling her’ entails.
The clip of shoes pulls my attention to the doorway just as the man in question enters. Lochlan straightens his tie with one hand, while balancing two moonberry tarts in the other. “We have five minutes,” he says, stopping opposite me.
Holden traces an invisible pattern in the air and says something under his breath. An iridescent haze paints the room.
“What’s that?” I ask, noting that it covers the ceiling—even the floors beneath our feet. I’ve noticed faint shimmers of colors throughout the house—on most doors, certain books, Lochlan’s crystal link—but this is different.
“Nothing,” Lochlan says flatly.
“It’s a silencing charm,” Griffin clarifies. “No one outside of the room can hear anything we say.”
Lochlan’s eyes flick to mine, but I refuse to meet his gaze. I won’t let him see the hurt I’m still trying to bury—or the conflicting emotions that warn he might be trying to apologize with the tarts. “Remember—you’re Scarlet’s cousin. Do not mention the imprints or speak of anyone in this house.”
“Great chat.” Scarlet grabs my hand and turns us toward the door, but before we make it two feet, the wall turns solid. The door and windows are gone. My brain struggles to process the change.
“What the hell?” Scarlet snaps. “One of you is a projector?”
“Griffin will take you,” Daire says.
“We already have a ride,” I bite.
“He was turned away at the gate,” Lochlan says, typing something into his crystal link. “What’s with all the bags? Planning to change for every class?” He doesn’t look at me.
I ignore him, focusing on Daire and Griffin. “What happened to this place not being a prison?”
Lochlan’s answering snicker has resentment slithering down my spine. “Your options are to let Griffin take you—or stay here.”
It feels like too great a concession, but the temptation of freedom outweighs pride. I exhale slowly, my silence the only answer I’m willing to give.
“Your course calendar has been sent to you,” Holden says.
“You chose my classes?”
Lochlan’s metallic eyes flash to mine. “Until we know what’s going on, we’ll be controlling everything, Witchling.”
“Stars. Maybe I should have helped you climb out the damn window,” Scarlet mutters. She turns back to the glamoured door. “Drop your illusion or I’ll put the lake through your fucking house.”
Grumbles follow, but the solid wall fades, returning to normal.
Scarlet inclines her head, a silent prompt for me to go first. I realize once again that she’s the real deal—a true friend.
Outside, the sun shines across the giant porch’s natural stone floor, deceptive, since it feels like the tundra.
Still, I imagine curling up with a blanket and a book, losing an entire day out here.
I almost ask if they celebrate Halloween or Christmas—if they pile pumpkins on porches and string lights—because Mysthaven’s porch was made for both.
But my thoughts stall as my eyes snag on Kandi, tapping away on her crystal link.
“You neglected to mention they’re certifiable,” Scarlet murmurs as we wait at the bottom of the stone steps.
“I haven’t stopped mentioning it.”
“The courts are running twenty minutes early,” Kandi announces, falling into step beside Lochlan as he descends the stairs. He nods and hands her one of the tarts—the same tarts I’d assumed were a peace offering for me. She beams.
The irrational—and unwanted—urge to stomp my foot and scream is so consuming I have to physically turn away.
Daire brushes his fingers across my arm, fleeting but enough to send a pulse through me before he follows Lochlan and Kandi. I hate that I can’t remember if I like or hate him, as every cell in my body yearns to call out to him.
Griffin appears beside me. His dark blond hair is messier than usual, and I can’t help wondering how it got that way.
His blue eyes meet mine for only a second before he lifts his crystal link and hits a button. “She can hear everything.” His words are softer than the breeze blowing against my cheeks.
Three sleek black machines glide toward us, hovering inches above the ground. They look like a cross between a sports car and a hovercraft.
“What are those?” I whisper to Scarlet.
“Gliders,” she says. “Bryxton’s version of a car.”
Two doors open toward each other on each glider, revealing spacious interiors. Lochlan waves Kandi into the first and quickly follows her in before Daire joins them.
As the doors close, the black exterior lightens, becoming nearly invisible, blending into the scenery, and takes off.
Kai and Holden get into the second. Scarlet, Griffin, and I climb into the last. Inside, the layout reminds me of the back of a limousine—a plush U-shaped bench instead of two rows of seats.
The ceiling is high and fully translucent, offering us a panoramic view of the surrounding forest that steals my attention.
Griffin sits beside me. His body molds against mine from knee to shoulder. Something about the proximity invites me to wonder what it would be like to sleep beside him—if he’s a bed hog or sleeps on the far edge. Or if he’d wrap around me like a security blanket.
As the doors close, a screen lowers in front of Griffin. A few quick taps have my gaze ping-ponging, trying to take everything in before it retracts.
“We should stop and get breakfast,” he says.
“We’ll eat there,” Scarlet tells him.
He doesn’t argue, but I can tell he wants to.
A series of musical tones is followed by the glider accelerating, and it takes everything inside of me not to squeal with surprise as I clutch the seat. “Who’s driving?”
“The glider,” Griffin says.
“Cars on Earth are nothing like this.”
Griffin chuckles—the sound quiet and warm. “What are they like?”
“We manually control everything—steering, speed. And you each have your own seat and seatbelt.”
“And they’re slower than shit,” Scarlet says. “And smelly.”
My smile is genuine but teeming with melancholy. I didn’t appreciate my old Honda nearly enough until I was locked away.
“Let’s see your schedule.” Scarlet reaches for my crystal link.
“We have Charms and Defensive Magic together,” she notes, pointing to my first and fourth classes.
My day is filled with eight blocks, including lunch.
“You guys put her in Dueling and Combat?” Scarlet swings her attention to Griffin.
He rakes a hand through his hair, making the sandy-colored locks stand up. “She can’t access her elements yet. Physical strength is her only defense.”
Scarlet winces. “Moonberry tarts won’t suffice for that apology.”
Dread settles into my limbs.
The glider slows to a stop in front of a campus that doesn’t even remotely resemble the college I attended for three years before my life became unrecognizable.
“Remember the story.” Griffin smooths back a lock of my hair, the closest he’s come to touching me in days.
“Remember those lavender eyes of yours represent that you’re a Soul Elemental.
Nothing more. Nothing less.” The silent rules and hidden clauses in that statement leave me restless and feeling trapped, but the hints of his unease keep me silent.
“We should get going. We don’t want to be late.” Scarlet shifts forward, pressing something that makes the seats along the doors retract and the doors open.
“If it becomes too much—” Griffin starts.
“It won’t,” I say, shaking my head as I move toward the edge of the seat.
Griffin swallows, and I get the impression he’s holding back countless words. I am too, though I’m not sure what any of them are.
“I have no doubt,” he says finally.
I climb out of the glider, greeted by the turquoise sky and pale winter sun as I finally admire Thornhurst—a sprawling castle of spires and stone, towers, and ornate roofs—a real-life fairytale.
Only in this legendary land, there may be dragons and rulers who want me dead, I’m reminded as Holden approaches us.
People mill around the front courtyard. Chatting. Laughing. It feels both completely normal and profoundly strange.
“Any questions?” Holden asks, scanning the crowds.
“Are you qualified to be a professor?” I ask.
Scarlet bites back a laugh.
“The better question is if I have enough self-restraint.” He turns as a female calls out to him with a wave.
The strawberry-blonde cuts toward us, flashing a wide smile.
“I heard you were taking over Runes, but I thought for sure it was a rumor.” Her eyes are a stunning shade of aqua, and her lips are so pouty that makeup companies would fall over themselves to sign her.
I hate how quickly my thoughts move to self-deprecation—and even more the hint of jealousy that burns when he smiles. The first smile I’ve seen him wear.
“It’s a temporary role,” Holden says.
“I’m sure it will be a nice break for you. Everyone here at Thornhurst certainly stands to gain a lot.” Her demure smile has me wanting to roll my eyes, but her gaze slips to Scarlet and then to me. “Oh. I’m sorry for interrupting.” A near-silent question hangs at the end of her sentence.
I shake my head. “You aren’t.”
She smiles appreciatively at me before turning back to Holden. “We should grab lunch soon. Catch up.” The affection in her gaze ensures they’ve either been in a relationship or wanted one.
If this is fate, she’s even crueler than I believed.
I fit my hand in Scarlet’s and take a step back, and then another, catching Holden’s unwanted attention. “One moment, Miss Breslin.”
Scarlet glowers at him. At her. At the whole damn world.
“That’s all right, Professor. We just had the one question.
” Without giving him a chance to reply, she directs us toward a large crowd where we get lost in a sea of bodies with the shopping bags we haul across campus.
My attention strays to strangers, stone buildings, and the occasional greeting directed toward Scarlet.
“If you get lost, just remember to ask for Starfire Hall,” Scarlet says, scanning her crystal link at the double doors.
The building isn’t half as nice as Mysthaven, but when we reach her apartment on the fourth floor, my chest fills with something close to peace.
Inside, the walls are a soft shade of blue, the furniture colorful and inviting.
“Your room’s right here,” she says, leading me to a short hallway.
The bedroom is empty, except for a bed and dresser, but it’s clean and free of five broody males.
“We’ll get bedding and some things to bring color and life to the space.
” She sets the bags on the bed. “The washroom is through there. We have a small kitchenette, but I always eat in the dining hall. They aren’t Gwen, but it’s decent. ”
I nearly admit that anything is better than what they served at the prison as I set my bags down, but bite my tongue. She still believes I came from college, likely a place similar to here.
“Ready?” she asks.
“Do we need to bring anything?”
Scarlet shakes her head. “Everything, including your textbooks, is on your crystal link. Come on. Let’s see if you can imprint on someone before Charms.”
My heart throbs with a silent objection, but I follow her back out of the dorm and across campus to the dining hall.
It feels so normal, I nearly forget we’re in a different dimension. Students carry steaming cups of coffee and join friends at tables, laughing as they eat breakfast.
“I don’t know if I should be offended or laugh at your prank,” says a guy with tousled sandy brown hair and a full sleeve of runes.
Scarlet grins. “Everett, this is Brielle. Brielle, Everett.” She waves a hand between us.
Everett raises his brows. “So she does exist.” He sticks out his hand to me. “Nice to meet you.”
My arm suddenly feels like it weighs a million pounds as I eye his unmarked palm hovering between us.
“Shit,” he mutters, dropping his offered hand. “Where did you say she’s from? Am I offending her?”
“No. Sorry. You’re not insulting me. I was just… distracted,” I say, offering my hand as my heart gallops with nerves.
Everett nods and takes my hand, giving it a single firm shake. His dark brown eyes meet mine.
I pull my hand back.
My heart stops.