Chapter XV
XV
From its earliest days in the colonial era, the Order used a deep network of ancient caves as a meeting place.
Their location was too remote for outsiders to easily access, and the rough geography provided ample security for the burgeoning organization.
The Elders met in the deepest parts of these caves for gatherings of grave importance.
When the time came to construct the Order’s fortress, the land over the ancient catacombs proved the obvious choice.
Vic ran headlong into the darkness. Noise ahead gave her Sarah’s location, and she followed blindly through the narrow corridor.
She didn’t know what would happen if they were caught, but she had no desire to find out.
Vic threw a pointless look over her shoulder and didn’t notice that Sarah had stopped in the middle of the tunnel until Vic barreled into her back.
Grunting, Vic struggled to right herself. She cut off her apology when she realized why Sarah had stopped.
The passage ended abruptly a few feet in front of them.
Bounded by the rough stone and barely visible through the darkness lay a wooden door with a gleaming red handle, identical to those lining the hallways hundreds of feet above them.
Vic stepped forward and tested the cut-glass knob.
The door swung open. Sarah wore an expression of amazement as they peered into an apartment similar to the one Vic shared with Henry.
Sarah stepped through the opening with a dazed look on her face. Vic followed with more reluctance, closing the door behind her.
“Holy shit,” Sarah breathed, looking awestruck at the door. “I know Max is powerful, but sometimes I’m still surprised.”
Vic stared at the door as realization dawned. Max made that passage in the side of the cave? “How do we get back to the main castle?”
“We don’t need to,” Sarah replied in a dazed voice. “This is my apartment.”
Vic examined the space with new interest. Posters hung on the walls and a healthy amount of clutter littered the room.
Sarah walked to the kitchen and withdrew a bottle of whiskey from a cabinet above the refrigerator.
She plucked two coffee mugs from a rack by the sink and poured a generous helping into each, then offered one to Vic.
She drank it one gulp. The liquor burned a path down her throat, and welcome heat radiated through her limbs. She plopped the empty mug on the coffee table.
Vic rubbed her face, and her hands came away bloody.
She shot a panicked look at Sarah, who tossed her a wet rag from the kitchen.
In the hallway mirror Vic saw that the blood had come from her eyes, pouring out of her like tears.
She scrubbed her face clean, though red smears stuck in the thin skin around her eyes like day-old eyeliner.
Vic looked like rolled-over shit and felt even worse.
Sarah sighed as she slumped onto the couch. The rag hit the floor with a splat as Vic fell into the armchair opposite Sarah. They sat in silence, both staring into the middle distance until Sarah spoke.
“Holy shit.”
“Holy shit.”
“I never thought Nathaniel would be that bold.” Sarah’s face turned angry at the memory. “Calling for Max’s expulsion is just stupid.”
“He said I should be silenced,” Vic said, hung up on the phrasing.
“With all the alums and professionals present, he was trying to rile people up. You saw how angry some of them got. And to invoke the Rite of Trial…” Sarah shook her head, her eyes full of shock and anger.
“That sucked.” Vic rubbed her knees over her jeans. Her kneecaps weren’t broken, but she’d have nasty bruises in the morning. “I didn’t pass, did I?”
“You didn’t fail.”
Vic shook her head. She had no idea how to process what had happened.
“That was—”
Someone pounded on the door, and Vic twisted to face it in alarm.
“Garza,” came the unmistakable growl of the Chief Sentinel. “Open up.”
Vic wondered how he had gotten there so fast. “Tell him I’m not here,” she whispered, and Sarah’s face cracked into a grin.
“Who is it?” Sarah sang.
“I know she’s in there.”
“If you’re here to kill me, you’ll have to take a number,” Vic called.
Vic heard a muffled thump she was pretty sure was Xan’s forehead hitting the door.
“Let me in.”
Sarah opened the door a sliver. “What’s the password?”
“I’m your boss.”
Sarah imitated a buzzer. “Try again.”
“Have you been drinking? It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes. Were you doing shots?”
Buzzer again. Sarah started to close the door in his face. Xan shoved his forearm against it and pushed until he stood in her living room. Vic took a step away from him, remembering his hand on her waist and wishing she had another whiskey.
“That defeats the entire purpose of the password system,” Sarah grumbled, and Xan scowled at her before turning on Vic.
“I am not going to kill you. Are you seriously that melodramatic?”
Vic put a hand on her hip. “Someone suggested that I be ‘silenced’ in front of a cave full of people tonight. Who’s melodramatic?”
Xan rolled his eyes. “I came to check on you. Sometimes the castle eats people.”
“We’re fine,” Sarah said.
“Keep your heads down tonight,” he said. “Things should cool off by morning, but you know how the Order can be.”
“Wait, go back to the thing about the castle eating people,” Vic demanded, raising a finger to get his attention.
Xan snatched her hand out of the air.
“What the fuck!” Vic tried to tug her arm away, but Xan held her wrist with both hands and she couldn’t pull away. He lifted the fingers of her right hand up to his face, eyeing the cuts there.
“What is this?” Xan said, tugging the sleeve of her sweater up her forearm and turning her hand in the air.
“What is what?” Vic asked. She wanted him to get his hands off her. They made her warmer than the whiskey had, and fractious, even as she registered a sinking suspicion that he knew what those marks meant. Her secret was out, and she didn’t even know what it was.
Xan rounded on Sarah. “Did you know about this?”
“No,” she replied, angling for a peek at Vic’s arm. But there was nothing there, only the wounds on her fingers.
“Stop manhandling me,” Vic insisted. She tried to twist out of Xan’s grip.
But he held tight to her hand, and all she managed to do was tangle herself in his arms. Vic fought not to dwell on the hard, warm chest against her back, until Xan turned her to the side and reached for the bottom of her sweater.
He pulled it up to expose her back, and Vic shrieked when she felt a rough hand at the top of her jeans.
“You brought a weapon down there?” Xan demanded, pulling the knife from Vic’s waistband.
“Sick,” Sarah breathed behind her.
Keeping hold of Vic’s wrists in one hand, Xan tossed the knife to Sarah.
Vic pushed against Xan in a pointless attempt to free herself, and Xan pulled his arm tighter across her chest. She shot an angry look at him, but the effect was diminished by the way she was crushed against his front.
“Why the fuck do you have that?” Xan spat.
“Bold of you to ask, considering I’m halfway to a half nelson,” Vic said, her voice muffled by Xan’s forearm across her throat. “Seems like a weapon was a wise idea.”
“Wait a second,” Sarah said, examining the side of the blade. She looked up with a smile. “This is one of ours.”
“You stole it,” Xan said. “That’s nice.”
“Get off me,” Vic growled, and she threw her weight against the hands trapping her. Xan let her go this time when she twisted out of his grip, and Vic stumbled away from him. She put her hands on her hips and glared at him, panting.
Xan glowered at her. “Do you know what that is on your arm?”
“On my arm?” Vic asked, looking at her wrist. “There’s nothing on my arm.”
“She can’t see it, Xan.”
“She can’t see it, of course!” Xan said, and he looked livid. He grabbed Vic’s hand and held it in front of her face. He poked a spot at the top of her wrist, right below where a watch would have sat. There was nothing there but skin. “That,” Xan said, prodding it once more. “You can’t see that?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Vic wrenched her arm away. Xan paced a furious circle before turning back to Vic.
“Of course you don’t. Who did you do that with?” Xan demanded.
“Do what with?” Vic cried.
“It’s a bind,” Xan said. “Whose is it?”
“Nobody’s!”
Nobody’s, Xan mouthed, and he looked like he wanted to throttle Vic. “It has to be somebody’s. Tell me who you did that with.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be real,” Vic said, losing steam.
“It must have been real. I’m looking at it.”
“I was dreaming. I was in my bed the entire time,” Vic said, and Xan’s frown deepened. “There was no way it was real.”
“Who told you that?”
“No one had to tell me that,” Vic said. She had no idea what Xan meant by “bind” and wasn’t sure she wanted to find out. “It’s like a baseline fact of reality. Things that happen when you’re dreaming aren’t real.”
Xan ran both his hands through his hair and stormed across the room. He turned and marched back to Vic.
“Whose is it?” he demanded, looking wild, incensed.
“I won’t tell you.” What would Xan do if she told him the truth? It would get her kicked out of the castle. Perhaps worse. She must be silenced.
“If someone in this castle is using you for Orcan magic, you have to tell me.”
“I don’t have to tell you shit.” Vic crossed her arms and looked for the whiskey.
“Was it Max?” Xan demanded.
Shooting a glance at Sarah’s stunned expression, Vic stammered, “Of course it wasn’t Max!” But Xan looked like he didn’t believe her.
He paced the entryway, looking half-crazed.
“You never, ever do magic you don’t understand!” Xan yelled. “You idiot!”
As Vic was about to shout back, a slim figure slipped into the room, and Vic stepped away from Xan. She pulled the sleeve of her sweater down to cover the mark she couldn’t see.
The three of them stood silently as May Lin walked in. Vic’s eyes darted to Sarah, who didn’t look the least bit surprised.