Page 102
Story: Ashes to Ashes
“Can others see this?” she whispers, gesturing at the golden rope binding us.
My jaw tightens. “Anyone possessing court training will observe it quite clearly.” I touch a wall sconce, and it dims obediently. “We are essentially broadcasting the nature of our developing connection to every faculty member with magical sight.”
“Here.” I stop before her quarters, the door recognizing her presence and unlocking with a soft click. “Your accommodations should provide everything necessary. The Academy tends to... anticipate the needs of its more distinguished guests.”
“Thank—” The word locks in her throat like swallowing glass. Something invisible wraps around her windpipe, squeezing until black spots dance across her vision. Magic crawls up her esophagus, seeking completion of the binding phrase.
“Ah, ah, ah!” Whispen materializes in a golden flash between us, tiny hands pressed against her lips. “No, no, no! Almost bound yourself to a favor-debt, silly girl!” His glow flickers panic-red. “Say ‘I appreciate’ instead. Acknowledgment without obligation!”
The magical pressure releases. She drags air into burning lungs while I watch.
Her mouth snaps shut. “Seriously?”
“How many people walk into that one?” she croaks.
“Enough to keep the Academy’s legal department perpetually occupied,” I observe with dry amusement. “Though mosthumans lack sufficient magical resonance to trigger binding protocols in the first place.”
My fingers trace etymology patterns against my thigh—muscle memory from decades of translating dead languages. “Fae magic transforms words of genuine obligation into actual contractual agreements. Express authentic gratitude, and you create a debt that must inevitably be repaid.”
“Instead,” Whispen chirps helpfully, “try ‘I appreciate your assistance’ or ‘your help is noted.’ Acknowledgment without magical obligation!”
“That’s fucked up. Even by military standards.”
“Welcome to Fae politics, pretty girl!” Whispen grins, showing all his needle-sharp teeth. “Where every conversation becomes a potential contract negotiation!”
“I appreciate your assistance.” She tests the words like ammunition in an unfamiliar weapon.
Whispen nods approvingly. “Much better! No debt created, relationship remains balanced.”
“Speaking of balance,” he continues with obvious delight, “I believe I’ll make myself scarce while you two work through the, ah, logistics of your developing magical connection. There are certain conversations that even ancient soul-keepers shouldn’t witness. For propriety’s sake, you understand.”
Molten gold floods her cheeks. “Whispen?—”
“Don’t worry, pretty boys! I’ll be close enough to help if any REAL emergencies happen. You know, like genuine danger. Not just... whatever this awkward fumbling is gonna be.” He waves airily. “But I suspect the only emergency you’ll be handling involves explaining politics and exploring the benefits of developing magical resonance. Carry on!”
He vanishes in a swirl of golden light.
Silence stretches between us. Trust, offered despite everything that’s happened tonight. Despite the magical threadsweaving between us without her full understanding of their implications.
Despite the fact that I haven’t told her the worst part yet.
“Perhaps I should allow you to rest.” Every instinct screams to follow her inside, to continue cataloging scratches and dirt and signs of what she’s endured, but propriety demands I step back.
“Finnian.” She catches my hand before I can retreat. Her fingers are still cold from her forest flight, still trembling from power overload. “The Academy’s changing around me. Doors opening, lights brightening, portraits lighting up like I’m visiting royalty. Is that normal?”
Ice crystallizes in my gut. “Royal recognition protocols. The Academy was constructed to serve Wild Court royalty, though it has been centuries since those particular systems required activation.”
I pause, meeting her eyes. The truth tastes like copper and inevitability.
I follow her gaze to a particularly active crystal cluster. My expression goes carefully blank.
“Unfortunately, this also means every ward and monitoring enchantment within the building is currently recording your presence. We are essentially broadcasting your location and magical signature to anyone possessing Academy access.”
Her face pales. “How many people have Academy access?”
“All three courts maintain official representatives here.”
“How long before they analyze the recordings?”
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