Page 14 of Malcroix Bones Academy (Bones and Shadow #1)

Magical Contract

“Open it!” Alaric urged. “Come on. I’m dying to know now!

I want to know if I’ll have my lovely drinking pal all summer, or if I’m going to be crying in my cups to my friend tonight, about how I met this gorgeous, funny, charming witch only to have her ride a monocerus back into Overworld, never to be seen again… ”

I laughed, shoving lightly at his shoulder without putting down the scroll. I went back and forth on whether I should do as he said, and break the seal.

In the end, I set it down, seal unbroken, on the round table in the center of the room.

“Not yet,” I said. “I’m not sure I’m ready to know yet.”

“Coward!” he declared.

“Guilty,” I confessed.

He was right. I was stalling. I knew I was stalling.

Now that the verdict for the rest of my life lived in a wax-sealed scroll on the table in front of me, I wasn’t sure I’d had enough wine yet to open it. I felt like I should have a better plan for both possibilities rather than no plan at all for either.

“You should probably go,” I said, apologetic. “Ankha likely will be back soon, and I doubt she’ll be very appreciative of me having company.”

Alaric let out a dramatic sigh. He did look genuinely disappointed, but hid it, funnily enough, by pretending to be more disappointed than he was.

“Fine!” he said loudly, with another exaggerated sigh. “Well, you know where I am now. Room 319. If you are staying, I expect you to come by and let me know. Today, ma chérie. Drop me a note, if you can’t come in person. I simply can’t wait to know until tomorrow.”

I nodded. “Absolutely. I promise.”

“Promise-promise?”

“Yes.”

Leaning down, he startled me by kissing me on both cheeks.

“All right, dearest. Today, then. I mean it. Or you’ll ruin my night.”

I nodded, and walked him back to the suite’s door after he collected his jacket off the sofa’s back. I closed the door behind him and checked my watch.

I decided if Ankha didn’t come back in thirty minutes, I would open the scroll, and read the contents.

I wandered back and forth in the hotel suite while I waited, now wishing I’d let Alaric stay.

I poked my head into both bedrooms, looked at the claw-footed bathtub in one of the en suite baths, washed my hands and face and mouth in one of the sinks, tossed out the empty beer bottles and crisp packets, re-corked the wine and recapped the water, then set the last two things on a side table.

I’d just checked my watch a final time, and started to walk back to the round table at the center of the room, when another sharp rap at the door made me jump.

I jerked the suite’s door open a second time, and the same heavily-freckled face greeted me. That time, she thrust a scroll forward without any preamble at all.

This one was thicker than the first.

I glanced over the wax seal on the new one, and frowned when it didn’t have a lion. Instead, an elaborate letter “M” had been stamped there in silver and gold paint. The wax shone violet and green with an iridescent tint.

No other writing identified the sender.

Like the last one, it wasn’t addressed.

I frowned at it, feeling a strange heaviness in my gut that wasn’t just the wine.

Two letters? That couldn’t be good.

A voice coughed. When I looked up that time, I wasn’t surprised to see the freckle-faced bellhop standing there still, her blue eyes just as eager as before.

“Is Mister Graythorne still here?” she asked eagerly.

I hid a smile. “No, sorry. He’s off to court a new best friend. After a lot of thought, he decided I’m entirely inadequate for his needs.”

She blinked, then straightened her head slightly. “You’re yanking my tail, Miss.”

“Maybe a little,” I admitted. Smiling more genuinely, I added, “He is very handsome though, isn’t he?”

The red-headed bellhop straightened even more, and now looked genuinely offended. “I don’t go chasing the royals, Miss,” she said haughtily. “Not like some folk. Showing respect isn’t anything like stepping out of place.”

With that, she harumphed at me, and walked back down the corridor.

I tried to decide if I’d deserved that. My wine-affected brain decided I probably did.

Without waiting, I closed the door again.

After a slight hesitation, I placed the second scroll on the table behind the first.

Now I was sorely tempted to open both of them.

I decided I would.

I’d just picked up the first one, with the gold lion on black wax, when the door opened abruptly behind me.

I turned to see Ankha bustle in, several shopping bags hanging from her arm as she began removing light grey gloves, one finger at a time. She set down the bags next, but her dark blue eyes had already found the scrolls.

She focused on the one in my hands, then the thicker one on the table.

“You didn’t open them?” she asked, sharp.

“I was about to,” I said, a little defensively.

Ankha walked directly to the table and to me. She set her gloves to one side, then snatched the first scroll out of my hand.

She broke the winged-lion seal without looking at it, unrolled it, and began to read.

I watched, arms hanging at my sides, as Ankha’s eyes rapidly scanned the contents. When she abruptly paled, I shifted my weight, folded my arms, and bit my lip.

“What?” I asked. “Did I fail it, then?”

A sharp pain hit my gut. My disappointment shocked me, and not only because it came out of nowhere, despite my pleasant afternoon with Alaric. Thinking about the implications of that disappointment, I immediately felt ashamed. What the hell was wrong with me?

I should want to go back. My brother was back there.

I absolutely should be hoping I’d failed.

No, a soft voice whispered. You belong here. You’re supposed to be here.

I bit my lip, shoving the voice away, even as it angered me.

Ankha, for her part, didn’t answer.

She threw down the first scroll and snatched up the second. She stared at the emblem on the seal of that one, then, paling a touch more, broke the thick piece of wax with a sharp crack. She unrolled it and began to read even faster, her eyes moving rapidly over the long, curled piece of parchment.

I watched her, worrying my lower lip with my teeth.

Maybe I shouldn’t have drunk so much wine.

When Ankha finally got to the end, and seemed to be reading the entire scroll a second time, I lost patience.

“What?” I demanded. “What does it say? Did I fail it, or?”

“You’ve qualified for your age.” Ankha’s voice came out flat, stripped of emotion.

“I don’t know what you did in there, but these scores indicate…

” She trailed, her face falling into a harder frown as she glared at the second scroll, re-reading the symbols.

“…So much for keeping your identity here a secret,” she muttered angrily.

My stomach flipped.

Was that hope? Relief? Disappointment?

Whatever it was, I wished it would shut up. My jaw hardened before all the feelings there could fully blossom into something I’d have to deal with.

“So?” My arms tightened against my chest. “Isn’t that what you wanted?

For me to go to one of those schools you told me about, with all the ten-year-olds?

” I felt sick, and a real stab of worry as I thought about my brother.

“I thought this is what you wanted,” I repeated harshly, not hiding the accusation in my voice. “Why are you being weird about it?”

“You won’t be going to school with ten-year olds,” Ankha muttered, obviously distracted as she re-read the scroll.

“Weren’t you listening? I said you qualified for your age.

They’re not sending you to primary school.

You’ve been accepted at Malcroix Bones Academy.

They’re waiving the primary school requirement, based on your inspector’s recommendation, and your test scores. ”

A silence hung in the air.

My voice grew taut. “I thought you said that was years off?”

Ankha finally looked up. She glared at me, as if she held me personally responsible. Then, with one question, she made it clear that she did.

“What did you do in there?” she demanded.

“What did I…” I trailed, then glared back at my aunt. “What do you mean, what did I do? I did exactly what you told me to do. I followed instructions!”

“Did your mother train you?” Ankha asked, her dark blue eyes now the color of steel. “Before she died? Did Clotide?”

“I really wish you would stop talking about my dead mother,” I hissed.

There was a silence.

Ankha exhaled an impatient sound.

“Fine,” she said, back to annoyed. “Well, whatever you did, it seems to have impressed Forsooth.” She stared out the window at the strange London sky. “If it’s a mistake, if he’s misread this in some way, I doubt you’ll thank him for it.”

Seeming to see something in my face, Ankha let out a humorless Hmmphf. She deftly rolled up the longer piece of parchment.

“Well, it’s done now.” She sniffed dismissively.

“Your results have been officially recorded. I doubt they’d let you into one of the lower schools now, even if you applied.

” She looked me over critically, then gave me a cold smile.

“You should be pleased, girl. It turns out you were right. You’ll be going to university in the fall after all. ”

I refolded my arms tightly enough to cut off my own breath.

Ankha returned my glare with one of her eagle-eyed appraisals.

“You’ll have to pass a bridging course this summer,” she said. “They’ve already sent the location, dates, and list of textbooks. You need only say yes, and you will be enrolled.”

I felt my throat close. Bridging course?

Isn’t that what Alaric said he’d be doing all summer? Did that mean I’d be going to school with Alaric this summer and potentially in the fall?

None of this seemed real.

“Well?” Ankha prodded. “Is the answer yes? Or no?”

“Is it yes?” I asked sourly. “How could it not be yes? It doesn’t sound like I have much choice, does it? And why would I?”

But my eyes were pulled by the scroll, which had unrolled itself again, seemingly on its own. It let out a puff of green and black smoke as I watched. The small cloud rose into the air, then slowly dissipated.

When I leaned over to stare down at the bottom of the scroll, I saw my name written out in black ink, in an eerily accurate approximation of my handwriting.

“You were saying?” her aunt queried smugly.

I looked up. My hands suddenly grew cold.

It felt real now.

“Appears you’ve made up your mind rather quickly,” Ankha said, that wry amusement still in her voice.

“I did warn you that you need only say yes, but the scroll knows your intent, as well as your words. You agreed. You want to go. It was enchanted to accept your answer as soon as you gave it. You are now bound to the Academy’s terms. You will attend the bridging course this summer in London, and the Academy in the fall, assuming you pass. ”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

Ankha snorted outright at however I looked. “A little late for second-thoughts.”

When I didn’t say anything, she inclined her head.

“You’re of age… back in Overworld and here in Magique.

Any contracts you sign are legally binding.

In this case, magically binding, as well.

” She picked up her gloves, scoffing in my general direction.

“One must have a care around magical documents. They are extremely sensitive… particularly right after they’ve been delivered.

Consider it your first lesson in Magique law.

Or in knowing your own mind,” she added tartly.

I could only stare at her, my chest hurting.

The amusement left Ankha’s eyes.

“What on earth are you whining about?” she snapped.

“You wanted to go to school. Clearly you want to go to this school, even if you’re lying to yourself about it.

You’re no longer obligated to be your brother’s keeper, which should be some cause for relief, as well.

More to the point, you’re now enrolled in the best advanced magus academy in Magique.

It is an extreme honor, especially given the circumstances of your birth. ”

At my continued silence, Ankha scoffed again.

“Whatever your faults, I never took you for a layabout,” she taunted.

“Did you plan a life of indolence, now you’ve found yourself wealthy and titled?

No plans to use your magic, I guess? Perhaps you’re hoping to marry rich?

Because I wouldn’t hold your breath. Not many Magicals would touch a hybrid, much less have children with one. ”

My jaw tightened at that, but Ankha wasn’t finished.

“As for your brother, you’d best put him out of your mind for now,” she advised.

“Now that your citizenship is official, it would be illegal for me to even give you the location of a mirror that can provide you passage to Earth. Moreover, the penalty would be death this time, not only for you but for anyone who helped you.”

I felt a constriction in my chest.

Death. They would kill me, just like they did my parents.

Ankha’s voice twisted a touch crueler.

“If you don’t care about yourself, think of Arcturus,” she sneered. “What do you think they’d do to him, if you did manage to find him?”

I barely heard her by the end.

I stared down at the unfurled scroll, at the black scrawl of my signature, which now shimmered with faint green and violet inside the dark ink.

The finality of it all brought an odd catch to my throat.

It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t even anger.

I’d definitely learned more about my aunt on that day than I’d prefer to have known, but I’d learned things about myself I’d rather not have known, either.

The stuff about me bothered me a lot more. Somehow, I didn’t think my aunt would factor largely in my life for much longer, anyway.

Ankha gave a dark, cold laugh, and I looked over sharply.

I couldn’t miss the smug, knowing look in those blue eyes.

“You’re a La Fey, all right,” she scoffed. “Exactly like your mother. Acturus will be lucky if you remember what he looks like by this time next year.”

My jaw hardened. I didn’t answer, mostly because I didn’t much care what Ankha thought, but something about her words felt like a curse, anyway.

I wouldn’t let them be, I promised myself.

I wouldn’t bloody let them be, whatever that old witch said.