Authors: Erica O'Rourke

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C
HAPTER
15

B
y the end of my second training session with Niobe, it was painfully obvious the Quartoren had made a mistake. She shouldn’t have been working at St. Brigid’s as a guidance counselor. She should have been a PE teacher. She had the masochistic streak down pat. Whether we were studying protocol for the ceremony or fighting techniques, she took way too much pleasure in pointing out all the things I was doing wrong, then making me try again.

The fact that Constance sat in on our sessions only made it more humiliating.

“What’s the point in learning all these spells? I’ll never be able to cast them. I’ll never be an Arc.” Niobe had taken us to a training room in her House—a large, high-ceilinged room with mats on the floor and weapons hanging from the walls. I sank down on a low bench and tried to will away the headache brewing behind my eyes.

“It’s a sign of respect. A Succession is a sacred event, and showing you’ve taken the time to learn our language will go a long way toward assuring the Arcs you take it seriously. That you’re committed to our world.” She hauled me up by the arm and pointed to the symbols she’d written on the opposite wall. “Try again. From the beginning.”

She spoke in the liquid, silvery language of the Arcs, and I attempted to copy her. Every few words, she’d stop, breathe so deeply her nostrils flared, and correct me. Constance followed along; even though she’d only been studying with Niobe for a few months, she’d picked up the language quickly. My tongue felt stiff, almost frozen, as if I’d eaten an entire pint of ice cream.

“Tell me again how it’ll work,” I asked, angling for a break. Constance yawned and wandered away.

“The first session of the ceremony is for members of the House to declare their candidacy—they swear to take the test, and to serve the House if they are chosen. The second session takes place five days later. It’s a public testing of the candidates, where they attempt to prove their worthiness. At the conclusion of the test, the House elevates its next leader.”

“It’s an election?”

“In a way. The test each candidate undergoes is to cast a spell in front of the membership. The results indicate who should be selected.”

“That sounds like the magic tells them who to vote for.”

“Of course not. The magic is merely an indicator. Like in one of your science experiments, when one chemical changes color in the presence of another. The magic reacts differently to those who are capable of handling the burdens of the station, allowing members to gauge each person’s suitability. A Succession via ceremony is quite rare. It’s most often hereditary, as in Luc’s case. Luc said Pascal was chosen in a ceremony. He didn’t really want to be on the Quartoren.”

“That’s my understanding as well. I was too young to remember it.”

“Why would he try out if he didn’t want the job? Why risk it?”

“A sense of duty, I suppose. Likely curiosity was a factor—Pascal never passes up a chance to better understand the magic. And then once he was chosen ... it’s not an honor one walks away from. Now,” she said, “try the spell again.”

Midway through the next halting, garbled incantation, she held up a hand. “Enough. It’s like asking a toddler to recite Shakespeare. Let’s switch to fighting techniques. You and Constance can spar.”

Yet another area Constance outperformed me. Niobe let her use magic in our fights, dampened to keep me from getting seriously hurt. I’d pointed out it wasn’t a fair fight, to which she’d replied that any fight with Anton would be twelve times more unfair. The most I could hope for was to keep myself alive until help got there.

“Anton likes to hurt,” she added. “If he casts a spell from across the room, your odds are grim, to say the least.”

“Comforting.”

“It is, actually. Anton rarely attacks from a distance. He wants to feel it happening, and that requires proximity. If you let him get close enough, you can fight back.”

“If he doesn’t kill me first.” My throat closed, remembering the pressure of his fingers.

“We’ve been over this. He needs you alive. And he continually underestimates you.”

“Everybody does,” I muttered.

“Then use it,” she said, impatient. “You’re accustomed to being overlooked. Your age, your family, your gender. Your lack of magic. It’s a mistake for people to dismiss you for those reasons, but since they do, use it to your advantage.”

I drained half my water bottle while considering her words. Wasn’t I already doing that, playing the part Billy expected while I worked to take him down? Maybe it would work here, too. If I lulled Anton into believing I was an annoyance instead of a threat, I might be able to beat him.

Across the room, Constance was playing with her phone, barely noticing when I stood. “One more round, and then I have to leave.”

Constance clambered up, pulling her caramel-colored hair back into a ponytail, and moved to the center of the room. “Ready.”

Niobe nodded. “Go.”

Constance struck first, a blast of gold light that caught my shoulder. I stumbled backward.

“Stay close,” called Niobe. “This is hand to hand.”

“We should have weapons,” Constance said, following me. As I straightened, she swung, a wide right hook that I blocked with a grunt. “Lots of the other kids have them.”

I shoved her with both hands while Niobe replied, “They’ve practiced much longer. And they focus—something you seem to lack. This is a sparring match, not a social event. Fight.”

Constance tossed her ponytail. “Fine.”

And then she went after me in earnest—a flurry of punches and kicks, and she didn’t pull a single one. I skidded across the floor, managing to block a particularly vicious kick to my rib cage.

“Get up, Mo,” Niobe called. “You need to take the offensive.”

But it seemed impossible—Constance was fast, she could heal herself, and she was obviously in a mood. “I’m not even breathing hard, Mo.”

There was just enough nastiness in her voice to blot out my tendency to go easy on her. Across the room, I caught Niobe’s eye, and she dipped her chin, a small smile of approval.

I staggered to my feet and went after Constance again, but she slammed a fresh burst of energy into me. I went down, just like before.

Just like I planned.

I’d hunched over, panting. She approached me, smirking, hands spread wide. I launched myself sideways at her legs, knocking her down with a grunt. She landed hard on hands and knees. Before she could gather enough magic for a strike—I could feel her fumbling for the lines, startled into clumsiness—I pinned her, forcing her against the ground, wrapping her ponytail around my hand for extra leverage.

“Enough?” I said.

Her cheek was pressed against the floor, and I eased up enough for her to raise her head. She scowled.

Niobe answered for her. “Enough. Well done, Mo.”

I scrambled up, extending a hand to help Constance to her feet. She ignored me and stalked over to her water bottle.

“Don’t sulk,” said Niobe mildly. “She beat you fairly.”

“It wasn’t fair—I had to hold back so I didn’t hurt her.”

“That was you holding back?” I tugged at the neckline of my T-shirt, displaying a reddish welt on my shoulder. “Maybe you need to work on control.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be trying to fight Arcs,” she said. “If I can beat you, what do you think Anton will do?”

“You didn’t beat me today.” I pulled on a hoodie over my T-shirt. “Can we go back to school now?”

“Certainly. Constance?”

“I can get back on my own.”

“Very well.” Niobe gripped my elbow, and an instant later we were back in her office. She scribbled a pass to the locker rooms so I could change back to my uniform.

“Thanks,” I said. “Do you really think this is the best way to handle Anton?”

She lifted a shoulder. “It’s a delaying tactic.”

Not really an answer. Hefting my bag over my shoulder, I started to leave.

“Mo. You should also keep in mind that it only works once. Constance, for example, won’t be fooled again.”

“And she’ll be twice as vicious next time.” So would Anton. I’d get one shot at him. I intended to make the most of it.

C
HAPTER
16

O
ur second trip to the soup kitchen was pretty much a rerun of the first. Only the menu varied: shepherd’s pie, green salad, roll, fruit. Cookies for dessert. Once again, Jill and Constance were stuck in the kitchen while Lena and I worked the front. I looked for the weakened Arcs as they came through the line, felt sorrow deep in my chest when they wouldn’t meet my eyes. I added a little extra to their plate, as if that would make up for everything they’d suffered.

Meanwhile, Lena kept a close watch on the door.

“Expecting someone?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Wondered if we’d see the little girl from last week. She was a cutie.”

“Maybe they found a place to live,” I said.

“Maybe.” She poked at the giant bowl of salad, obviously not convinced.

In the kitchen, Jill was preening about getting into NYU—all the paperwork she was filling out, how her parents were taking her to visit the campus over spring break, how many of her AP credits would transfer. She pitched the words just loud enough for me to hear. I tried to tune her out, but the words managed to work their way under my skin, like some sort of poison ivy.

“Ignore her,” Lena said. “You’ll get in.”

I passed out more shepherd’s pie. “It was a waste of money to apply. I can’t go.”

“What if you get everything with your uncle ... sorted out?”

“Even if.” I tried to smile, but it didn’t work. Lena didn’t know about Tess. Colin could never leave.

“You know, I like Colin. I do. But you’re a moron if you pass up your dream school because of a guy. Even one like him.”

“It’s not just Colin. It’s lots of stuff.”

She frowned. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

We didn’t talk much for the rest of the meal. Jill left early, claiming she had a doctor’s appointment, but we all knew she was actually going to the salon. The little girl and her mom were no-shows. We swept the floor and scrubbed the tables, and when everything was done, Niobe rounded up the remaining kids. I interrupted to ask if Lena and I could wait for Colin upstairs.

I was not enjoying the constant babysitting. Protective wards now crisscrossed St. Brigid’s, Morgan’s, my house—even the church we were in today. It was a constant barrage of vibrating lines, wearing on my nerves. The sooner we dealt with Anton, the better.

“Go ahead,” she said, examining her roster in annoyance and making a shooing motion. “The wards will alert me to any problems.”

We waited on the steps—the day had lost its painfully cold tinge, and the fresh air was nice after being cooped up. “Have you told Colin yet?” she asked.

“That I’m passing Billy’s information to Ekomov? I will. I’m waiting for the right time.”

“He’s going to figure it out, you know. It would be better if you told him first.”

Before I could respond, a man lurched across the sidewalk, his shadow stretched long and distorted in the late-afternoon sunlight. My heart thudded, imagining the odd joints of a Darkling in his silhouette, but he was just a man, backlit and bulky in a dark green parka.

“The afternoon meal is over,” I said politely. “You can come back tomorrow, though.”

“You know where my wife is?” he slurred. A whiff of beer floated toward us.

I shaded my eyes with my hand and reached out with the magic. Not an Arc. Not a Flat under a Rivening. Not one of Billy’s men, either. Just a guy who’d had one too many drinks after work.

“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t think so.”

“My wife,” he said again, climbing up to the landing, stopping a few feet away. “And my little girl. My Emily.”

“We don’t know any Emilys,” I said, and pointed down the street. “There’s a police station just a few blocks that way. Maybe they can help you.”

Help him right into a cell until he sobered up, I meant, but the guy barely glanced at me. “Wasn’t asking you,” he said, pointing one doughy, unsteady finger. “I’m asking her.”

Lena went still, her face frightened for an instant. Then her eyes went huge and innocent as she twisted her ponytail into a knot. I’d seen that move before. Every time she covered for me. “I don’t know either, sir. I’m sorry.”

“My wife. My daughter. Where are they?”

“Is there a service tonight? Maybe they’re already inside. You should go in and ask the priest.” I searched for Colin, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Shut up,” he snarled, and Lena flinched. “They’re not
here
. Tell me where they are.”

“I don’t know,” she said, a fear trickling into her voice.

“Lying little bitch!” He lunged at her, and she fell backward on the hard stone steps with a cry. He loomed over her, reaching down and grabbing the front of her jacket.

“Hey!” I tried to push him away, but he swung wildly, clouting me on the side of the head.

He loomed over Lena, who shrank back in terror. “You know where they are. You took them, but they’re mine. Mine, and I want—”

He broke off as he was jerked away, and Colin shoved him against the brick wall of the church. He wrenched the guy’s arm up and back, impossibly high and incredibly painful looking.

“You want to leave,” Colin ground out. “That’s the only thing you want. Because if you don’t, I will snap your arm like a toothpick, and then I’ll snap your neck.”

Colin’s mouth was white with anger, his eyes nearly black. I crouched next to Lena and helped her to her feet, but watched him the whole time, saw him unraveling bit by bit, the threads of his control fraying as the guy struggled against him, calling us horrible names. Colin twisted harder; the guy stopped talking, alternating between hisses and whimpers.

“You okay?” Colin asked Lena over his shoulder.

Lena nodded, cupping her elbow, tears caught in her lashes. But when I tried to coax her away, she shook me off and stalked over to the man. “Emily is gone, you bastard.”

“Walk,” Colin said, shoving him toward the sidewalk. The guy stumbled away, clutching his arm and swearing. Colin trailed after him, calling over his shoulder to us. “Wait here. Both of you.”

“Friend of yours?” I asked.

“It’s complicated,” she said. She was back to twisting her ponytail. “You know how it is.”

I swallowed back a retort, reminding myself how many times she’d covered for me unquestioningly, cheerfully. Instead, I dug a tissue out of my bag and offered it to her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She wiped at her nose. “It’ll bruise like crazy, but I’ll live.”

I buttoned my coat. The fresh air no longer felt good. Just cold. Around us, no one seemed to have noticed the disruption. “Who’s Emily?”

She swallowed and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I don’t know anyone named Emily,” she said after a long pause. “Other than that junior in our history class.”

“He thought you did.”

I was missing something. Something huge. It was like someone had dumped out a jigsaw puzzle in front of me but taken the box away, leaving me with pieces I knew should fit together, but with absolutely no idea how. I tried again. “Do you know him?”

“I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

Colin was walking back along the sidewalk, and I knew we only had a minute before he rejoined us. “Lena, a perfect stranger attacked you—in public—because he thinks you know something about his family.”

“Men with guns broke into your house in the middle of the night,” she retorted. “You disappear constantly. You run off with Luc at the drop of a hat, and Colin—who gets pissed when you’re five minutes late to leave school—is okay with it. Do I interrogate you?”

“If I remember correctly, half an hour after those guys came to my house, you were going through my dad’s court transcript. Without my permission. I’m not asking because I’m nosy. I’m asking because I care.”

Colin marched up the steps. “Time to go,” he said in his bodyguard voice: Remote. Focused. Stubborn as hell. Lena hadn’t had much experience with it, but I knew better than to argue. “We’ll drop you at your car, follow you home.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I sure as hell do,” Colin said. Before she could protest, he continued. “You want me to drop you somewhere else? Fine. We’ll go someplace else, make sure he didn’t follow us, and then we can go our separate ways.”

“He won’t follow me,” said Lena.

“How do you think he found you here? It wasn’t a coincidence. My guess is, he was watching you the minute you left school. He followed you here, had a few beers while he worked up his nerve, then decided to introduce himself.”

“He doesn’t know where I live?” she asked with obvious relief.

“If he knew where you lived, he wouldn’t have approached you in a public place. Start walking.”

Lena was not in the honors program for nothing. She stopped arguing and started walking. Just before I climbed into the truck, I glanced back at the church. Standing in front of the arched main door was Luc, expression troubled. Behind him stood Niobe, looking equally concerned. I gave a tiny wave and slid into the cab, taking the middle seat.

On the ride back to school, Lena kept her head down, Colin kept his guard up, and I tried to piece together everything I had witnessed—not just today, but in the last six months. Her ability to deflect questions. Her unblinking acceptance of my family’s history. Her reaction to the break-in last November—scared but not panicked, the same way she’d reacted today. Her assurance that the secrets she kept weren’t her own.

“Where are we going?” he asked her before she got out.

“El station,” she said, clearly unhappy. “Leavitt and Archer.”

“Fine. Do not try to shake me,” he said. Lena nodded.

“You have excellent timing,” I said after we’d been driving for a few minutes.

“How many times have we gone over this? You don’t leave the building until I’m there. What if he’d been after you?”

“He wasn’t.” I paused. “Why was he after Lena?”

A muscle in his jaw jumped. “It doesn’t matter. She put you in danger, Mo.”

A warning sounded at the back of my mind as he continued, “You could have been hurt today. Maybe it’s better to ...”

I cut him off. “Drop her? She’s my friend! She’s stuck by me through all sorts of crap this year, Colin. School stuff and family stuff and Arc stuff, even though she doesn’t realize it. Remember the break-in? She didn’t bail on me, and that was a lot more dangerous than one drunk guy.”

“Do you have any idea what she’s mixed up in?” he asked.

I stared. “No. But you do, apparently.”

He jerked a shoulder. “I’ve been asking around.”

“You ran a background check on my friend?” My voice came out high, too close to a shriek for my liking, and I lowered it with an effort. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I needed to make sure you were safe. Find out if her family was connected. They’re not, by the way.”

“You are unbelievable. So, as long as you’re doing it for a good reason, it’s okay to snoop around in someone’s life? Is that what you’re telling me?” I wanted him to say yes. More than want—I
needed
him to, because it would ease my conscience and absolve me of what I’d done. The same way, I realized, that Luc needed to believe in fate.

“I’m telling you that I will do whatever I have to in order to protect you. I’m sorry if it offends you, but it’s my job.”

“Your job.” My voice was brittle.

His hand found mine. “Not just a job. I take care of what I love.”

I wished I could maintain the full force of my anger, but his words made it impossible. The question was, would the same rules apply when he found out what I’d done?

We pulled into the parking lot of the El station behind Lena. Everything looked muddy and tired. “I need to talk to her,” I said.

She rolled down the window as I approached her little white Cavalier. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“No apology necessary,” I said. “Are you okay to drive?”

“Yeah. I’ll ice the elbow when I get home.”

“Good idea. Lena ... Colin knows. He won’t tell me, but he knows.”

She pressed her knuckles to her mouth.

“I’m not telling you as a threat, okay? If you don’t want to tell me, I respect that. I won’t nag Colin or you. I promise.”

She shook her head no, the gesture panicked. I’d never seen her this way before.

I leaned down, gripping the window frame with both hands. “You don’t have to tell me, but you should know ... whatever this is about? It’s not as secret as you thought.”

“Nothing ever is,” she said softly. “Tell Colin thanks, okay? I’m glad he was there.”

“Me too.”

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