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Chapter Forty-Two

RAIN

K eir had been busy all weekend. I was pretty sure it was because Pascal was sick. He'd missed practice on Friday, and I hadn't seen him in the cafeteria or atrium all weekend. When I offered to take a meal up to him, Keir assured me he'd handle it.

That made the entire court pause.

"It's a personal thing," Keir explained. "I told him I wouldn't say anything. This is me not saying it, but I happen to think it's a good thing."

Fae promises. They were truly binding - and starting to be a pain in my ass.

The court had let me know they had their own secret, and I'd spent a semester trying not to push or pry.

Ok, in truth, that had been my own fear of them thinking I wasn't worth the hassle and ghosting me.

They hadn't, and for the first time in my life, I now had a real group of friends.

So if Keir thought this was ok, I'd trust him.

He'd helped me when I needed it most, and he did like to be a hero.

For all I knew, Pascal had gotten himself a girlfriend - or boyfriend.

Come to think of it, I'd never seen Pascal with anyone, so that would count as a good thing, but why would he need Keir's help?

A cover? Unlocking a door so they could hook up?

After all, Keir did have the ability to get through almost anything with his defensive abilities.

Still, that didn't feel like it fit. Maybe Pascal had been promoted?

Or he could have a secret project? I didn't know, and now I was just grasping at straws.

But when I made it to the gym Monday afternoon, the guy was back and looked perfectly normal. I went out of my way to let him know he'd been missed. His response? The biggest smile I'd ever seen. He didn't try to explain why though, so I didn't ask.

For the most part, our defensive combat and offensive combat classes were fine. Bracken kept moving me around, making me work with various partners - or a group of them once - just to keep me on my toes. Yet when the main door blew open, it halted the class.

A chilled breeze rushed in hard. Everyone around me tensed, but I looked back at the training dummy where Jack slept through these two hours to find my crow still perfectly relaxed. Everyone else was bracing for the worst.

"Is it the Hunt?" a girl whimpered.

Bracken had his phone out, tapping at it furiously. The sentinels were moving the other students away from the door, but me? I marched straight to it and shut the thing. Outside, the sky was completely blue, with no storms brewing on the horizon.

"I think it's a false alarm," I assured them.

Jack rattled into his own feathers, which made Keir sigh.

"Someone probably didn't latch it all the way," he said, moving back to his practice spot.

"No storms," my zez finally announced. "Not even a hint, so we're fine."

So I pointed at Jack with one of my practice sticks. "He isn't worried, so I'm not."

"Jack always calls the Hunt before we realize what's going on," Hawke told the rest. "I think we're fine."

"So let's do it again," Bracken said.

We did, then a few more times after that. Blocks, parries, thrusts, lunges, and more footwork than I could keep track of. When Bracken finally told us to cool down and clean up, my legs were shaking from the effort I'd put in.

"Walk it off," Keir told me, gesturing to a spot in front of the long windows. "I'll move the mats."

"We can help," Axel offered, waving Daivon, Bran, and Pascal over.

"What are we helping with?" Pascal asked.

"Setting up for practice with the court," Keir told him, as if the question wasn't weird. "You good for this, or want to let the guys handle it?"

"I'm good," Pascal insisted. "Never felt better."

"I swear he's getting laid," Bran teased.

"Shit," Pascal said, laughing that off. "No, I just think hitting some shit will be nice after being cooped up all weekend."

But Bracken heard that too. "I'm going to be doing paperwork in my office," he said. "If you need anything, let me know, but I think my sentinels can handle whipping the court into shape, right?"

"You know it!" Daivon tossed back.

Hawke just chuckled. "Half the court are sentinels," he pointed out.

"Hence why you'll be able to handle it," Bracken countered. "And Hawke, make sure Aspen starts hitting people today? I don't want her to rely on everyone else to cover her."

"If the worst happens," Bran said as he bent to stretch, "she'll be the last one up. We need to make sure she's good enough to stay that way."

"Shit," Axel said. "You know Torian will be the last standing."

"No," I said, turning to walk back the other way, feeling my legs finally starting to feel normal again. "Tor will make sure Aspen's the last up. Trust me on that."

"Oddly, I do," Axel said.

So when Wilder, Torian, and Aspen arrived, Keir took over. Considering he was Bracken's best student, and had once told me he hoped to become a weapons instructor after he graduated, it made sense. For him, this was practice of a different sort.

"Torian, you're with me," he said. "Aspen, I want you to work with Bran and Daivon. Wilder, you get Axel. Pascal? Can you work with Hawke and Rain?"

That made me give Keir a confused look. He'd picked out Pascal as if he was the one needing training when I was pretty sure it was me more than Hawke. Keir didn't notice, though. Instead, Hawke did.

"We missed something," he whispered as we moved into the center of the room to meet up with Pascal.

"I'm feeling called out," Pascal joked. "Guess this is Keir's way of making sure a few days off didn't make me lose anything, huh?"

Maybe, but I had a feeling it was something else. I wouldn't ask, because they clearly weren't talking about it. Instead, we all warmed up quickly, then found our practice sticks and took our positions.

"We doing a three-way?" I asked. "Or two against one?"

"I'm down for a three-way," Hawke teased.

I stuck my tongue out at him. "You sure Pas agrees?"

"I am not getting in the middle of the court," Pascal said. "I can, however, hold you both off, so your choice, Rain."

"Three-way," I said, flashing Hawke a little smile. "I mean, this way you can brag about it later."

"Nice," Hawke said as he lifted his stick toward the center. "Your call, Pas."

I mimicked him, touching the end of my stick to his. Pascal did the same, then said, "Go!"

Immediately, Hawke flicked an underhanded shot at my gut. I blocked that with a shadow shield and lunged for Pascal. He twisted, coming back at me, but Hawke had just shifted his focus to Pascal.

There, in the center of the room, it was almost like a merry-go-round. First, we all shifted to the left in unison. Then, we moved to the right. The clatter of our sticks was intense, but Pascal was not slacking. The guy sparred like he hadn't missed a day.

So I decided to push things a little more.

Mostly, that was because I needed the practice. Lately I'd been paired up with Aspen a bit. Everyone thought it made her more confident to see I could do this, and I'd liked having her beside me. The downside was I fought differently when protecting her than I did when I was with these two.

Pascal was good. In truth, he was nearly as good as Keir. Hawke was brutal, fighting in a style that wasn't as fancy but probably worked better. He ignored the guard positions, relying on his magic to cover his openings. Instead, he just attacked.

When they both turned on me, I was glad I had plenty of Wild magic saved up.

Hawke got a face full of shadows. Pascal received a slick floor to keep him from pushing me too hard.

Once, he flinched, exposing his entire abdomen, but he was too far away for me to take advantage of that - so I pushed in.

But Hawke saw it too. In unison, we both went for Pascal's head, expecting him to cover his belly after exposing it. Instead, Pascal turned his practice weapon, catching both of our sticks an inch from his nose, and then he shoved us back.

I rocked a step, using the momentum to come in for another hit. I expected Hawke to turn on me, but it seemed we were on the same page. Pascal saw us and jumped back - right onto the dark, slick spot I'd left for him.

His foot slipped. His practice stick flew out of position, and Hawke was going for the "kill" even as Pascal fell. I saw the moment his entire body jerked, but that was the last normal thing he did.

A bright flare burst from his body. For a second, I couldn't see through the whiteness, but that didn't stop the chain reaction.

Beside me, Hawke flew backwards. On either side of us, the rest of the court and the sentinels were blown off their feet, some sliding a bit on the mats.

One of the mirrors behind Pascal cracked, sending spider webs across its surface.

And something rushed into me.

It felt cold.

I heard when the door to Bracken's office slammed against the wall, opening too hard. "What the fuck?" he demanded.

"White," Torian said, lifting himself up to sitting.

"That's not possible," Hawke breathed, rolling over to push himself up.

Around me, all of my friends were shifting and recovering, but the room looked like a wave had torn through it. Chairs had been pushed. Wooden swords had fallen from the racks. People were lying like they'd been flung a little too hard, and Jack was sitting up, looking at us with surprise.

"Court?" he asked.

Torian just pointed at Pascal. "That was white. Where'd you get the charm?"

"I didn't," Pascal tried to say, still sitting on his ass in the middle of my slick shadow. "I just slipped!" And he patted the floor to show what he meant.

So I waved that away, dismissing it. "Sorry."

"What do you mean, white?" Hawke demanded, staring at Pascal too intently.

"The burst," Aspen said. "I saw it too."

"Pas?" Daivon asked. "You manifested?"

"I..." He shook his head. "I thought I was Summer?"

"I did too," Hawke said.

"Same," Torian agreed.

But Bracken was making his way over. "When did you start manifesting?"

"Friday," Keir said. "He heated water, electrocuted his tablet, and a few other things. All sound Summer to me."

"That," Wilder said, "was not Summer."

Axel climbed to his feet, then headed over to offer Pascal a hand up. "Well, sounds to me like you ended up with the monarch you prefer, Pas. Grats, man."

"I..." Pascal accepted his hand. "Could I have both?"

"I mean, some people do, right?" I asked, looking at my zez.

But Bracken shook his head. "It is rare for a faeling to inherit two seasons. Most of us get one from each parent, which means two fae bloodlines."

"Unless," Torian said, "he's more than half. Summer from the faeling, Winter from the pure fae."

"Or the other way around," Aspen pointed out.

"But it's magic?" Pascal asked, almost begging. The worry was audible in those few words.

Bracken nodded at him. "Definitely magic. Hawke? Since you can manipulate both seasons, can you work with Pascal?"

Torian grunted as if offended.

Bracken just gave the prince a long and tired look. "We both know you do not have the temperament to work with someone untrained. It's not a slight, Torian."

"And a good point," Torian relented.

"So do it again," Bracken said to all of us. "Tor, you're with Rain. Keir, you're with Pascal, and if he explodes again, please make sure it doesn't ruin another mirror."

"Got that!" Aspen said, turning to repair the cracked surface.

But Pascal was watching her with a smile on his face. "I might be Winter," he breathed, the words to no one but himself, and yet we all heard them.

What shocked me the most was Torian. He looked away, but only to hide the smile on his lips.