Torches illuminate the cobblestone walkway to Convent. The outlines of fiery dancers materialize within the flames, enticing us to go inside with blazing, beckoning arms. Magic is never to be used for personal gain, but this evening is an exception and Convent doesn't hold back.
Crossing Masquerade is a night of extravagance, a time to celebrate our magic freely. Magicians from covens around the world descend on Convent once a year for this celebration, which makes it easier to blend in. Behind our ornate masks, Roane and I are unrecognizable and blend in with the crowds approaching the formidable iron gates surrounding Convent.
I keep my eyes fixed ahead, wanting to appear like I'm supposed to be here, but it's impossible with Roane at my side. The other men walk like they belong here. With Roane, it's like he owns the place. The suit Caleb brought him is all black, and it accentuates his pale skin. The black mask, embroidered in gold, heightens the intensity of his deep brown eyes. Superiority saturates his aura, though I know this isn't a conscious thing. He's a warrior, and everything about him screams strength and protection. He demands attention simply by breathing, and at his side, I want to disappear. Thankfully his austereness keeps everyone at bay. Though they stare at us as we stand in line before the guards, no one makes an effort to speak to us. I curl closer to his side, accepting this. If not able to disappear, I'd rather be unapproachable.
The couple before us is called forward, asked to show their invitations to the guards flanking the doorway. I grip Roane's arm tighter, my knees watery beneath me. With each thump of my pulse, a new question burst into my mind. Will we get caught? Will this be where we fail the Great Mistress? I dart a glance around. Caleb isn't here. Is he held up somewhere? Did he remember to put our names on the list?
Invitation in hand, the guard match their names against the guest list. Every second drags on and a cool sweat prickles down my back. Finally, finally they hand the couple their invitations and allow them entrance.
My heart pounds.
We're next.
The guard on the left motions us forward. I dig my nails deeper into Roane's arm and force myself to move. He's about a foot shorter than Roane and has to tip his head to address him.
"Good evening. Invitations, please."
Roane exhales as if bothered by the question and reaches into his jacket breast pocket. He holds it out for the guard's taking. The guard inspects the invitation, holding it beside his guest list. His brow furrows and my stomach knots. He flips back to the first page, and then flicks through the rest of it.
"I'm afraid I can't..." He looks up to Roane and swallows deeply. I don't blame him. I'd be frightened too. "I'm afraid I can't find your name on the list, sir."
"Check again," Roane rumbles lowly.
"I—I looked sir, but—"
"Check again."
The guard instantly lowers his eyes and thumbs through the list again. My heart drums.
"Is there a problem here?"
Hearing Caleb's voice, I let out a breath. I turn to him and can't take another. Dressed in black and maroon, he reminds me of every childhood dream I ever had of finding my own prince charming. He smiles and inclines his head to me, and I know I've found mine.
"I'm afraid these guests aren't on the list, Mr. Talcott," the guard says, hesitantly. I feel sorry for him. Between Roane's intensity and Caleb's power, he looks feeble. If I could disappear, I would give him my ability to do so.
"That's quite alright," Caleb says, taking the invitations. "Please come in, Mr. and Mrs. Yogslav, and please forgive this oversight. My mother would have been honored to have you here."
The guard deflates with a gradual sigh. I give him a little smile and follow Caleb through the gates and toward the main building, a cathedral-like structure with gargoyles watching out into the night. I've been here before, but the magnificence of it all is breathtaking. Were I a Magic, this would have all been done for me, and at a ball so great, my engagement to Caleb would have been announced. Roane looks unfazed. I suppose his king's palace is more majestic than this.
My nerves ease a slight when we enter. The lights are dim and intimate, and the foyer full with guests. There is anonymity in the dark and in numbers. We walk through a long hall, toward the great ballroom. Roane gets us champagne from a server in passing, and I down it in an instant. Tables are spread throughout with more food than I've seen in weeks. My stomach grumbles in protest. I can probably open my mouth and tip one of the tables toward me, devouring everything and embarrassing myself. I giggle at the thought.
"I think you've had enough," Roane says, and takes the empty flute from my hand. I reach to the waiter passing me and take another from his tray. Anything to calm my nerves.
We reach a somewhat secluded alcove when Caleb turns to us. "Demonstration is at ten," he says for our ears only. "Try and blend in. Dance and eat. When Demonstration starts, everyone will be too busy to notice you slip away. You know where to go."
Over his shoulder, I notice a woman looking around, searchingly. She asks a guard something, and he points to Caleb.
"Someone is coming," I mutter, then press hand at my chest and pretend to laugh at a joke. Roane follows my drift and chuckles as well.
The woman comes up alongside Caleb. "Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Talcott, but your uncle requests your presence. Miss Claudius is due to arrive any moment now." She nods knowingly.
Coolness washes down my spine and sobers me.
"Yes, yes, of course." Caleb hands her his champagne glass and turns to us. "If you'll excuse me, I hope you have a wonderful evening. Feel free to explore. Mrs. Yogslav, I think you'll enjoy our library the most."
With a half bow, he turns and is then led away by the assistant. I was flying moments before, but seeing him walk away, I crash.
"You should eat something," Roane says, but Caleb vanishes through the arched doorway, and I shake my head.
"I'm not hungry."
We venture through the crowd, sure to stay close to one another. Roane eats, but he chews tightly as if to keep from spitting it out. I suppose human food isn't to his liking. Once I have a bite, I indulge in a bit more, but the knot in my stomach never goes away. I try to keep my eyes on Roane, on anything to avoid searching the room for Caleb. It's impossible. For a while, I search for Aunt Sabana, but I know she isn't here. With the store having burned and my death, it's unlikely. I do see her meadowsweet being served and it warms my heart. She would have been so happy.
A tinkle silences the crowd. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, I encourage you to gather around for the Demonstration."
A few catcalls resound from the younger attendees gathered near the grand staircase. Some older guests laugh, others roll their eyes. I swallow bile.
"What's Demonstration?" Roane whispers in my ear.
I lean into him. "The most powerful magician in each branch of magic show off their beauty and abilities. It's an unspoken tradition that those in the Demonstration will lead our people, and will intermarry."
Roane hums. We stay still and let everyone else push past us. I'm glad we can't leave right away. I suppose I'm in a masochistic mood as I really do want to see the Demonstration, to see what's so special about Vale. Yes, she's pretty, but she's shallower than a puddle. Her power is strong, and she's mastered a few of the elements, but that's not surprising. Both of her parents are pure-blood elementals, who were also joined more for business than love. Her mother is a water and earth master and her father fire and air. For Vale to be born a seer is like fate slapping me in the face. We'd had a few run-ins during primaries, but Caleb never paid her any attention.
Slipping my hand into his, Roane motions with his head toward the back of the room. I glance around to see even the guards are watching the main stairs, waiting for Demonstration to begin. Mage Edwards sits at the throne, one that doesn't belong to him. As heir, Caleb stands beside him, his mask no longer on his face. He slides his eyes through the crowd, and I know that he looks for me. He scrutinizes the group beside me, and just when I feel his eyes are about to meet mine, the violins whine and draw his attention toward the stairs.
The leaders of the elements descend first, followed by the seers. Last in line is Vale, without an escort. Mage Edwards looks at Caleb, who walks to Vale at the foot of the stairs and takes her hand, where it's tradition for the girl to give her escort a gift.
Nearing Caleb and gazing into his eyes, Vale presses a hand at his heart. Seers are able to transmit images into the minds of those they touch. Whatever she shows him then, for the privacy of their minds, make him blush. He laughs and rubs the back of his neck, while the younger guests hoot and holler. I fold my fingers into fists, and if I clench my jaw any tighter, my teeth will turn to dust.
Roane tugs my hand. "Let's go," he whispers in my ear.
Our escape can't be obvious and so we walk out of the ballroom and down the hall slowly, admiring the various paintings of Convent's previous leaders.
We pass Lara's portrait. The artist captured the gleam in her green eyes and the joy of her smile. "She was so beautiful and quiet. She never liked these parties. It was as if she didn't fit in." I shrug. "Maybe that's why she liked me. She liked me before, but once it was discovered that I was a non-mag, she really took to me and encouraged Caleb and me to stay together."
"How did you and Caleb get together anyway? Your family a part of all of this..." Roane lifts his hands to the stringed flowers and display of grandeur.
I scoff. "No way. My parents died before I was born. There was an uprising of warlocks. My father was killed. My mother was a nurse at a nearby hospital. A group of warlocks snuck and drained everyone, including the staff. When help arrived, everyone was dead, well, except for me. My mother was pregnant and one of the warlocks was draining her, but the guards stopped it in time. She died, but they were able to save me. I guess he left me with enough magic to maintain a normal magic childhood, just not the amount I needed to become a full-fledged magic." My voice breaks on the last word. It's been so long since I've told anyone about my past. It makes my chest feel hollow.
"I'm sorry," Roane says softly.
"The past is in the past, right?" I shake my head and push away the memories. "Anyway, my aunt took me in and raised me. Her Meadowsweet Ale is always a big hit, so she's always been invited to these parties. A few summers ago, she was asked to teach a class. I was too young to stay behind and had no one to watch me, so I had to come and keep myself busy. Archery seemed pretty cool, so I got a pass to take the class."
We reach the staircase and go up. "During the first class, I aimed at the bull's eye, but it got away from me and pierced a tree. Caleb was less than an inch away." I laugh, remembering how scared I'd been. "He tore the arrow from the tree and walked to me. He looked so intense, I didn't know whether to run or faint. When he stopped in front of me, he held up the arrow and told me, "This is dangerous if not used properly." He came up behind me and taught me how to shoot it."
"Smooth," Roane says, mockingly.
I slap his arm. "I got a bull's eye then, and the name Arrow just stuck. After that, I kept seeing him around and..." I shrug. "We just happened. We kept in touch afterward and the year before my Crossing, we made it official." I smile, remembering how innocent and young we had been, and all of our long conversations about everything we would do together. "What about you?"
"It's complicated. She's complicated," he murmurs and jerks his head in the direction of a door with a gold plaque beside it reading Library.
No one follows or watches us, and so I push the door open and walk in first. "He said it's to the back—" I start, but Roane isn't next to me. I turn to see he leans back against the door, squeezing the bridge of his nose. He shakes his head and lifts his face to me.
"You okay?" I take a step toward him, but he recovers before I can touch him.
"I'm fine, let's go." He wipes his forehead quickly, but not fast enough for me to miss the sweat beaded on his brow. Keeping my suspicions mum, I follow him to the back of the library. We locate the bookshelf. I give Roane the key as the hole is way too high, and keep watch. A slight click resounds and then a groan. The bookshelf opens like a door.
We hurry in and it closes behind us. It's pitch black.
"We have to head upstairs, but I can't see anything," I say. "Can you strike up a flame?"
"I'd rather not use any powers here, and I can see in the dark. Take my hand." His hand wraps around mine.
I hiss. "You're burning up, Roane."
"I'm fine, it's a troll thing. Come." He leads my hand to the railing. "You walk ahead; in case you fall back I can catch you."
I agree though a nudging feeling makes me think I should be the one walking behind him. His fever is alarming and I know something is wrong with him.
The staircase winds around, but thankfully after three rotations, we reach a long hallway with a door at the end. Light seeps from underneath, a beacon in the long darkness. When we reach the door, I press my ear to hear for any movement. After a few minutes of silence, we push open the door that turns out to be another bookcase on the other side. We file into Caleb's room and shut the bookcase behind us.
I rush to the front door to lock it, but it's already locked. There's also a note taped on it.
Take what you need and make yourself at home. There's a spare bedroom upstairs for Roane. You know my passwords.
Love, C
I press the note tightly, as if somehow able to feel him. But he's downstairs... with Vale.
Ignoring the ache in my heart, I turn to Roane. "You're welcome to rest. You look exhausted. I'm going to take a quick shower and change."
He shakes his head. "Someone might come. I'd rather stay up."
I nod, a bit unsure. His eyes are hazy and unfocused, and dark circles cradle them. His movements aren't as sharp, and his voice as strong.
I don't want him going upstairs in that condition and so I bring down some of Caleb's clothing, a sweatshirt and sweatpants. They're about the same height, though Roane's arms are more muscular. I leave him to change in the spare bathroom, while I go to Caleb's.
Warm, running water is heaven. I close my eyes and lose myself in the stillness. For a moment, I'm okay and everything in the world is okay, but okay doesn't last long. I can't help but accept that this is my calm. This is my moment before the storm, and it terrifies me. I've lost the Mistress and my old life. How much more will I lose? The thoughts are negative, I know, but if there is something we're taught as budding Magics is that everything is a cycle. The past few days have been trying, and I've gone through fire. But water flows down my body now, wiping away any traces of it, cleansing me for what's to come, whatever it is. The thought presses down on my chest. What's coming? Will it be losing Roane to the darkness? Will it be Caleb? Will it be me?
I shut off the water and step out of the shower, no longer finding calm there. Peace will always be fleeting as long as non-mag's are going missing, and as long as Mage Claudius hunts us.
A crashing sound resounds outside followed by something tumbling down. I wrap a towel around my body and open the door—
"Roane!"
I rush downstairs and into the living room where he lays face down. The door is locked and the bookshelf door closed, so it's not an intruder. He's flat out on the floor, shivering. The sweatshirt is beside him and his soaked t-shirt.
I roll him over. Pushing his hair away from his face, I wince, his skin burning hot again. Thick beads of sweat pour from him as if his body were crying. His eyes are closed and he mutters words I don't understand.
"Roane." I slap his face in quick spurts. "Roane, wake up."
He opens his eyes, but they're glossy and light gray. "With...drawals," he whispers weakly.
It hits me then. White magic is a drug to trolls, and like any other addict, without a fix, his body is going through withdrawals. My stomach plummets. Depending on the amount used and for how long, withdrawals can lead to death. He has to be eased from his addiction. Cold turkey is too dangerous.
"Listen to me Roane, we need to Share, but you need to drink from me. You're going through withdrawals, but they can kill you."
He shakes his head then turns it away from me, but barely.
I force it back to me. "Stop being so stubborn and drink!" I press my hand against his cheek. My magic is weak and hardly clings to him. He needs a quicker infusion. Aunt Sabana told me once that before Sharing was outlawed, people used it in healing. One of the fastest infusions was to exhale her magic into their mouths.
Focusing on my magic, I tilt Roane's face upward. He isn't responding. I part his lips, lean over him, and exhale onto his mouth. Nothing happens. I do it again, but his life force isn't hooking on.
Desperate, I shift back—
His hands shoot to my wrists and he yanks me closer. Our connection ignites. He inhales deeply, to where I feel my body empty of all air. His need tugs at me, seeming to pull from every joint, and I'm frozen. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me down onto him, gray eyes focused on mine, bright and needing.
"More," he whispers.
A maddening desire for him flares inside of me, the remnants of magic within me wanting to reunite with the magic within him. I nod and exhale again. Curls of white smoke pour from me and into his mouth, a continuous flow that sends my hands weaving into his hair, his fingers digging into my back and our lips against one another.
My mind screams this is wrong, but at the feel of Roane's hand cupping the back of my neck and drawing me closer, the warning dies to the wild thrumming of my heart, to the feel of him against me. Suddenly, I don't know which one of us is experiencing withdrawals because I want him with the same ardor and need as he wants me. We seek each other's lips in sync, our breaths in unison.
Maybe this is wrong and maybe I am addicted to the magic we've been sharing, and I should probably let him go. But my will is weak and my strength is splintered, and I can't stop it---no, I can. I just don't want to.
A crash sprinkles between us. Our connection snaps and I tumble off from Roane's arms, panting. I lift my head and my heart pounds to a stop. Caleb stands at the door with a flower in his hands and heartbreak in his eyes.
So...thoughts? :)
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