Page 56

The frost explodes off her card with a burst of magic.

Like a winter geyser, it drenches half the class, ice-laden waterfalls pouring off the edges of the rooftop.

The Ace of Swords that had been hovering under my palm disintegrates.

I brace myself, twisting my body and shielding my deck.

Other students aren’t so lucky. The force knocks them back just like Luren.

Groans and frustrated shouts rise with the shock of ruined decks.

As soon as the blast is over, I continue rushing to her side. Frost coats her chattering lips and tries to fuse her with the stone rooftop.

The Ace of Wands jumps from my deck and becomes a tongue of flame that hovers above her. It fights against the runaway frost magic trying to slow her heartbeat and end her life. Without warning, I’m shoved away.

“Move,” Vaduin says gruffly. The Queen of Cups is hovering over his shoulder. I withdraw my flame and my person, giving him space. My magic seemed to steady Luren just long enough for Vaduin’s skilled card work to mend her. The ice retreats, and Luren’s eyes crack open.

“What…”

“Your incompetence nearly got you and half the class killed, that’s what,” Vaduin snarls.

“It wasn’t her fault,” I snap. “She wasn’t ready for that card.”

“Was it a Five or less?” His attention swings to me.

“She wasn’t—”

“Was it a Five or less?” The professor’s patience is gone today.

“Yes,” Luren answers, sitting. Her head hangs in shame. “Four of Cups.”

“A card any first year should be able to wield without losing control.” Vaduin looms over her. “How did you manage to survive the Arcanum Chalice?” he asks, even though he was there. Even though he knows we all fought for our places.

Before Luren can answer, Sorza shouts, “Professor, Professor !”

Vaduin’s head swivels, attention swinging to another dueling ring next to us, where Sorza and Kel were paired. The latter is on the ground, with Sorza hunched over her. Icicles skewer Kel’s body. Blood pools around her, mixing with the puddles of water and seeping between the stones of the rooftop.

“Kel,” Luren chokes. She practically lunges for her friend.

Vaduin throws Luren back, forcing her to the ground with a shove. Luren blinks up at him, still dazed. “You’ve done more than enough,” he snaps and rushes over to Kel.

“Kel.” The name quivers on Luren’s lips.

I wrap an arm around her, unsure of what else to say or do.

“I…I…” Silent tears stream down Luren’s face as she stares at the unmoving body of her friend. “It reversed. How could…How did…” The words fade away.

“Dristin,” I call over to him. He rushes to our side. “Stay with her.”

With a nod, Dristin does as I ask, and I cross to where Vaduin is hunched over Kel. Sorza has been pushed away. She doesn’t move. Simply stares, wide-eyed. Horrified.

Magic flashes as Vaduin uses card after card. Nothing lands. The swirls and sparks of tarot releasing its powers cascade off Kel’s cold flesh. Her body is horribly still.

“Let me help,” I whisper, not knowing what I can do. Vaduin doesn’t acknowledge me. I say, louder, “Let me help.”

“I don’t have time for your insolence, Clara Redwin.” The professor has yet to look at me. But fewer cards fly from his deck. He pants softly.

“I can—”

Vaduin stands and somehow feels a thousand times taller. He stares down at me, and at Kel’s lifeless form. “Unless you have some special card that might bring someone back from the dead, there’s nothing you can do.”

At the word “dead,” Luren lets out a howl. She doubles over, clutching her stomach, retching.

“Class is over. Dristin, get Luren to the clinic. The rest of you get out of my sight.” The initiates begin to move.

Luren shouts, clawing at the air to try to seek purchase on imaginary walls as Dristin pulls her away. “Kel. Kel! Let me see her! I killed her. I killed her. I killed her! ” Her howls are worse than the cries of the dying in Halazar.

“Dristin, let her go,” I say.

“Take her to the clinic,” Vaduin snaps.

My whole body jerks to face the professor, shoulders squared. “She has a right to say goodbye to her friend.”

“She will be where I tell her to be.” He practically snarls.

“Dristin, do it now. The rest of you. Go. ” The commands are barked, and everyone shuffles away.

Sorza pulls herself off the ground, and I move to join her.

Vaduin stops me. “Not you.” I shoot him a glare, which only deepens his glower.

“You’re spending the afternoon with me. I will not tolerate disrespect. ”

Sorza gives me one sidelong, wary look, but she ends up following the rest, staying at Luren’s right side. Dristin is at Luren’s left. Knowing she has them to look after her is the only thing that keeps me somewhat calm in the face of Vaduin’s command to stay.

It’s just Vaduin and me left. He doesn’t tell me what to do, so I simply stand there as he walks back to the rooftop entry and calls for three robed staff, who silently collect Kel’s body. They carry her unceremoniously back into the academy.

I’ve seen my share of death. And while I’d come to know Kel better than most here, she wasn’t a dear friend. Not like she was to Luren. Perhaps it is the pain that I know Luren is in that twists my insides into aching knots.

She lost the only person she truly trusted…

“Luren didn’t even get to say goodbye,” I whisper.

“Enough,” Vaduin says briskly.

“Luren lost her only companion here and—”

“All because she couldn’t control her magic.”

“This was not Luren’s fault.” I narrow my eyes.

Something in the way Vaduin looks at me has me bracing for a strike. His green eyes are alight with rage. But he hardly moves. “Perhaps she will learn how to better control her magic now that she has witnessed the cost of not doing so.”

“You are a monster.” I don’t even care what he might do to me. I’ve had worse.

“I am a teacher who lost a student!” Vaduin takes a step toward me so suddenly that I can’t move backward fast enough.

Hurt spills over into his voice. A pain I didn’t expect from him.

Like he… cares. “Since you know so much, Redwin, tell me what happens when an Arcanist wields a reversed card once?”

“They’re more prone to doing it again.”

“ They’re more prone to doing it again, ” he repeats the second I’ve finished. “You’re right, I wanted Luren to hurt because she needed to know this pain. Otherwise, she’s going to harm others and likely kill herself when her magic reverses again.”

It’s heartless. Downright cruel. But also…fair, in its own way.

Perhaps Vaduin is more like Kaelis than I thought; they both seem to care a lot more than they let on.

“Now, scrub away the blood. You’re dismissed when there’s not a drop left.”

I reach for my deck.

“Not like that.” He motions back to the entry, where a bucket, rag, and brush have been left. “Without magic. So you have ample time to think about all the reasons why you should heed commands when they’re given. That you might not have the full picture.”

I hold his stare for a few more seconds. Vaduin is unyielding. So I’m the one to back away. Wordlessly, I do as he asks. I retrieve the bucket and set to scrubbing.

Hours pass. The stone is porous, and Vaduin is slow to bring me fresh buckets. For a while, I’m just moving around blood. But I don’t complain. In a way, the act feels like a vigil. Vaduin leans against one of the columns that supports a pergola over the entry, watching me the entire time.

It isn’t until the fourth bucket that a strange glint catches my eye.

It’s no mere reflection of the sunlight in the tinted water, nor is it a fleck of quartz trapped in the stone used to build the academy.

It’s a tiny shard of what almost looks like colored glass.

Except, there’s a brief sting of magic that pricks my fingertip like a needle plunged right to the bone.

Wincing and shaking it away, I glance in Vaduin’s direction.

He continues watching me. If he notices the movement, he says nothing.

I return to scrubbing. There’s a few other strange shards.

All an identical shade of teal. All with stinging magic.

Something with the card reversing, perhaps?

It seems likely…I’ve never encountered a reversed card before, so I’m stuck with an educated guess. I doubt Vaduin will answer if I ask.

And the next person to emerge I know will not want to talk about reversed cards.

“What is the meaning of this?” Kaelis’s voice slithers on the wind. As dangerous as a viper. Eyes flashing as they swing from me to Vaduin.

“I’m teaching her a bit of respect. She needs to learn the importance of cleaning up one’s messes.”

“My bride is not to be made to scrub on her hands and knees,” Kaelis says, seething, and begins to cross to me.

“No.” I lean back, sitting on my heels. “Your highness, respectfully, no.” I want to go, desperately, more than anything.

I want to follow Kaelis all the way back to his apartments and collapse on his couch in front of that massive fire.

Ask kindly if Rewina would be up to bringing me a tall glass of something hot to get the chill of death from my bones.

Maybe I’d even be bold enough to steal Kaelis’s bathroom, which is far, far nicer than anything I have access to as a student, for a much-needed bath. But I can’t.

“See, this is what I’m talking about.” Vaduin motions to me. “The audacity of her to—”

“Professor Thornbrow gave me a task, Headmaster,” I interrupt, still speaking to Kaelis. His focus hasn’t left me. “I intend to see it through to the end.”

Kaelis purses his lips and then his face relaxes into a neutral expression before Vaduin can see his momentary frustration. “Very well.”

Vaduin narrows his eyes at me. He can’t argue. I’m giving him exactly what he wants.

Even if it means we stay out here all night for me to do it.

Kaelis leaves.

The moon is rising when the last of the blood is expunged from the stone.

Kel was gone in a breath, her body carried off like little more than luggage.

But it took hours to clean the remnants of her.

And, in the end, it was my honor to offer what meager service it was to her memory.

It will likely take Luren much, much longer to wash her hands of what happened here today.

Vaduin and I have both missed dinner at this point. The second the last bit of water dries on the late breeze, I stand and stretch then make my way to him, looking down as I pass. He sat long ago.

There’s no thank-you. But also no snide remark. He doesn’t say a word as I stride into the academy.