The Golden Lily (12 page)

“How many times does she have to refuse?” Adrian demanded. “If she doesn’t want to, then that’s all there is to it.

This has nothing to do with her. This is our science project.

She’s here to protect Jill and has plenty to do there. So stop harassing her already!” harassing her already!”

“‘Harassing’ is kind of a strong word,” Dimitri said, calm in the face of Adrian’s outburst.

“Not when you keep pushing someone who wants to be left alone,” countered Adrian. He shot me a concerned look before fixing his anger back on Sonya and Dimitri. “Stop ganging up on her.”

Sonya glanced uncertainly between us. She looked legitimately hurt. As astute as she was, I don’t think she’d realized how much this bothered me. “Adrian …

Sydney … we aren’t trying to upset anyone. We just realy want to get to the bottom of this. I thought all of you did too. Sydney’s always been so supportive.”

“It doesn’t matter,” growled Adrian. “Take Eddie’s blood.

Take Belikov’s blood. Take your own for all I care. But if she doesn’t want to give hers, then that’s all there is to it. She said no. This conversation is done.” Some distant part of me noticed that this was the first time I’d ever seen Adrian stand up to Dimitri. Usualy, Adrian simply tried to ignore the other man—

and hoped to be ignored in return.

“But—” began Sonya.

“Let it go,” said Dimitri. His expression was always difficult to read, but there was a gentleness in his voice. “Adrian’s right.” Unsurprisingly, the room was a little tense after that.

There were a few halting attempts at small talk that I hardly noticed. My heart was still in overtime, my breath still coming fast. I worked hard to calm down, reassuring myself that the conversation was done, that Sonya and Dimitri weren’t going to interrogate me or forcibly drain my blood. I dared a peek at Adrian. He no longer looked angry, but there was still a fierceness there. It was almost … protective. A strange, warm feeling swirled in my chest, and for a brief moment, when I looked at him, I saw … safety. That wasn’t usualy the first sentiment I had around him. I shot him what I hoped was a grateful look. He gave me a small nod in return.

He knows, I realized. He knows how I feel about vampires.

Of course, everyone knew. Alchemists made no secret about how we believed most vampires and dhampirs were dark creatures who had no business interacting with humans. Because I was with them so often, however, I didn’t think my cohort here in Palm Springs realy understood how deeply that belief ran.

They understood it in theory but didn’t realy feel it. They had no reason to since they hardly ever saw any evidence of it in me.

But Adrian understood. I didn’t know how, but he did. I thought back on the handful of times I’d freaked out around them since being in Palm Springs. Once had been at a mini-golf course when Jill had used her water magic. Another time had been with the Strigoi and Lee, when Adrian had offered to heal me with his magic.

Those were small lapses of control for me, ones none of the others had even noticed. Adrian had.

How was it that Adrian Ivashkov, who never seemed to take anything seriously, was the only one among these “responsible” people who had paid attention to such small details? How was he the only one to realy understand the magnitude of what I was he the only one to realy understand the magnitude of what I was feeling?

When the time came to leave, I drove Adrian home along with the rest of us Amberwood students. More silence persisted in the car. Once Adrian had been dropped off, Eddie relaxed and shook his head.

“Man. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Adrian so mad. Actualy, I’ve never seen Adrian mad at al.”

“He wasn’t that mad,” I said evasively, eyes on the road.

“He seemed pretty mad to me,” said Angeline. “I thought he was going to jump up and attack Dimitri.” Eddie scoffed. “I don’t think it was going to quite reach that point.”

“I dunno,” she mused. “I think he was ready to take on anyone who messed with you, Sydney.” I continued staring ahead, refusing to look at any of them. The whole encounter had left me feeling confused. Why had Adrian protected me? “I offered to do him a favor next weekend,” I said. “I think he feels like he owes me.” Jil, sitting beside me in the passenger seat, had been quiet thus far. With the bond, she might know the answer. “No,” she said, a puzzled note in her voice. “He would have done it for you regardless.” Chapter 7

I SPENT MOST OF THE NEXT DAY wrestling with my refusal to help Sonya, ruminating over the decision as I went from class to class. There was a part of me that felt bad about not giving blood for the experiments. After al, I knew what they were doing was useful. If there was a way to protect Moroi from becoming Strigoi, then that could theoreticaly be applied to humans too.

That could revolutionize the way the Alchemists operated.

People like that creepy guy Liam being held at the bunker would no longer be a threat. He could be “sterilized” and released, with no fear of him faling prey to the corruption of Strigoi. I knew also that Sonya and the others were running into wals with their research. They couldn’t find any reason for what had made Lee impervious to turning Strigoi.

At the same time, despite the worthiness of the cause, I still felt staunchly opposed to giving up my own blood. I realy was afraid that doing so would subject me to more and more experiments. And I just couldn’t face that. There was nothing special about me. I hadn’t undergone a massive transformation via spirit. Lee and I hadn’t had anything in common. I was the same as any other human, any other Alchemist. I just apparently same as any other human, any other Alchemist. I just apparently had bad tasting blood, which was fine by me.

“Tell me about the charm spell,” Ms. Terwiliger said one afternoon. It was a few days after Clarence’s, and I was still muling over those events even while ostensibly doing work in her independent study.

I looked up from the book in front of me. “Which variant?

The charisma one or the meta one?”

She was sitting at her desk and smiled at me. “For someone so against all of this, you certainly learn wel. The meta one.” That had been a recent spell I’d had to learn. It was fresh in my mind, but I made sure to sigh heavily and let her know in a passive aggressive way how inconvenient this was for me. “It alows the caster to have short-term control of someone. The caster has to create a physical amulet that he or she wears …” I frowned as I considered that part of the spell. “And then recite a short incantation on the person being controled.” Ms. Terwiliger pushed her glasses up her nose. “Why the hesitation?” She noticed every slip. I didn’t want to engage in this, but she was my teacher, and this was part of my assignment so long as I was stuck in this miserable session.

“It doesn’t make sense.

Wel, none of it makes sense, of course. But logicaly, I’d think you need something tangible to use on the vict—subject. Maybe they’d have to wear an amulet. Or drink something. It’s hard for me to believe the caster is the only one who needs enhancement.

I feel like they would need to connect with the subject.”

“You touched on the key word,” she said. “‘Enhancement.’

“You touched on the key word,” she said. “‘Enhancement.’

The amulet enhances the spell caster’s wil, as does the incantation. If that’s been done correctly—and the caster is advanced and strong enough—that’ll push the power of command on to the subject. Perhaps it doesn’t seem tangible, but the mind is a powerful tool.”

“Power of command,” I muttered. Without thinking about it, I made the Alchemist sign against evil. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“Is it any different from the kind of compulsion your vampire friends do?”

I froze. Ms. Terwiliger had long since admitted to knowing about the world of Moroi and Strigoi, but it was still a topic I avoided with her. My tattoo’s magic wouldn’t stop me from discussing the vampire world with those who knew about it, but I didn’t want to accidentaly reveal any details about my specific mission with Jil. Nonetheless, her words were startling. This spell was very much like compulsion, very much like what I’d seen Sonya do to soothe Clarence. Vampires could simply wield it unaided. This spell required a physical component, but Ms.

Terwiliger had told me that was normal for humans. She said magic was inborn for Moroi but that we had to wrest it from the world. To me, that just seemed like more reason why humans had no business dabbling in such affairs.

“What they do isn’t right either,” I said, in a rare acknowledgment of the Moroi with her. I didn’t like that the abilities I found so twisted and wrong were alegedly within human reach too. “No one should have that kind of power over another.”

another.”

Her lips quirked. “You’re very haughty about something you have no experience with.”

“You don’t always need experience. I’ve never kiled anyone, but I know murder is wrong.”

“Don’t discount these spels. They could be a useful defense,” she said with a shrug. “Perhaps it depends on who’s using it—

much like a gun or other weapon.”

I grimaced. “I don’t realy like guns either.”

“Then you may find magical means to be a better option.” She made a small, graceful motion with her hands, and a clay pot on the windowsil suddenly exploded.

“Then you may find magical means to be a better option.” She made a small, graceful motion with her hands, and a clay pot on the windowsil suddenly exploded.

Sharp fragments fell to the floor. I jumped out of my desk and backed up a few feet. Was that something she’d been able to do this whole time? It had seemed effortless. What kind of damage could she do if she realy tried? She smiled. “See? Very efficient.” Efficient and simple, as easy as a vampire wielding elemental magic with a thought. After all the painstaking spels I’d seen in these books, I was stunned to see such “easy” magic. It kicked what Ms. Terwiliger had been advocating up to a whole new—

and dangerous—level. My whole body tensed as I waited for some other horrific act, but judging from the serene look on her face, that was the only show of power she had in mind—for now. Feeling a little foolish at my reaction, I sat back down.

I took a deep breath and chose my words carefuly, keeping my anger—and fear—pushed down. It wouldn’t do to have an outburst in front of a teacher. “Ma’am, why do you keep doing outburst in front of a teacher. “Ma’am, why do you keep doing this?” Ms. Terwiliger tilted her head like a bird. “Doing what, dear?”

“This.” I jabbed the book in front of me. “Why do you keep making me work on this against my wil? I hate this, and you know it. I don’t want anything to do with it! Why do you want me to learn it at al? What do you get out of it? Is there some witch club where you get a finder’s fee if you bring in a new recruit?” That quirky smile of hers returned. “We prefer the term coven, not witch club. Though that does have a nice ring. But, to answer your question, I don’t get anything out of it—at least, not in the way you’re thinking. My coven can always use strong members, and you have the potential for greatness. It’s bigger than that, however. Your perennial argument is that it’s wrong for humans to have this kind of power, right?”

“Right,” I said through gritted teeth. I’d made that argument a milion times.

“Wel, that’s absolutely true—for some humans. You worry this power will be abused? You’re right. It happens all the time, which is why we need good, moral people who can counter those who would use the magic for selfish and nefarious reasons.” The bell rang, freeing me. I stood up and gathered my things together. “Sorry, Ms. Terwiliger. I’m flattered that you think I’m such an upstanding person, but I’m already caught up in one epic battle of good versus evil. I don’t need another.” battle of good versus evil. I don’t need another.” I left our session feeling both troubled and angry and hoped the next two months of this semester would speed by. If this Alchemist mission continued into next year, then creative writing or some other elective would become a very viable choice for my schedule. It was a shame too because I’d realy loved Ms.

Terwiliger when I first met her. She was briliant and knew her subject area—history, not magic—and had encouraged me in that. If she’d shown the same enthusiasm for teaching me history as she did magic, we wouldn’t have ended up in this mess.

My dinners were usualy spent with Julia and Kristin or “the family.” Tonight was a family night. I found Eddie and Angeline already at a table when I entered East’s cafeteria, and as usual, he seemed grateful for my presence.

“Wel, why not?” Angeline was saying as I sat down with my tray. It was Chinese food night, and she held chopsticks, which seemed like a bad idea. I’d tried to teach her how to use them once, with no luck. She’d gotten angry and stabbed an eggrol so hard that the sticks had broken.

“I just … wel, it’s not my thing,” Eddie said, clearly groping for an answer to whatever her question was about. “I’m not going at al. With anyone.”

“Jill will be there with Micah,” pointed out Angeline slyly.

“Won’t you need to come keep an eye on her since it’s not at the school?”

Eddie’s answer was a pained look.

“What are you talking about?” I finaly asked.

“The Haloween Dance,” said Angeline.

“The Haloween Dance,” said Angeline.

That was news to me. “There’s a Haloween Dance?” Eddie dragged himself from his misery to give me a surprised look. “How do you not know? There are signs everywhere.” I stirred around my steamed vegetables. “They must not be anywhere I’ve been.” Eddie gestured with his fork to something behind me. Turning, I looked back toward the food line I’d just been in. There, hanging above it on the wal, was an enormous banner that read HALLOWEEN DANCE. It listed the date and time and was decorated with badly drawn pumpkins.

“Huh,” I said.

“How can you memorize entire books but miss something like that?” asked Angeline.

“Because Sydney’s brain only records ‘useful’ information,” Eddie said with a smile. I didn’t deny it.

“Don’t you think Eddie should go?” pushed Angeline. “He needs to watch out for Jil. And if he goes, we might as well go together.” Eddie shot me a desperate look, and I tried to find him a way out of this. “Wel, yeah, of course he’ll go … especialy if it’s off-site.” The banner mentioned some venue I’d never heard of.