Dark Light of Day (9 page)

C
lass after that was excruciating. Feeding off my hurt and anger, my magic flared up for the first time in weeks when I walked past Ari. He looked up at me with a stone-cold expression on his face, which I gave right back to him. Marching up the aisle, I sunk down in a seat next to Ivy and spent the rest of the time alternately sweating and clenching my fists. I did not take one note. Thank Luck I wasn’t called on. It was all I could do not to burn the place down. I knew I had control issues but it felt like Peter’s spell was barely working. When class ended, I bolted to the ladies’ room.

In the mirror, my face looked flushed but otherwise all appeared normal. I splashed cool water over my cheeks and waited for my natural pallor to return. When it did, I walked out to the square. Sasha was already there, waiting.

The sun was sinking, but I couldn’t see it. It was hidden somewhere behind all the buildings. Moments like these, I missed Etincelle.

Sasha sat on a bench facing the Joshua School. A few inches of his chin-length thick blond hair stuck out of the
dark red knit cap he was wearing. He turned to face me when I sat down, his full lips nearly as red as his hat from the cold. He raked his gaze over me, top to bottom, and then pursed his lips together disapprovingly. I tucked a stray piece of hair back into my hood and stuffed my hands deeper into my pockets. A few other students crossed the square, scurrying through the cold on their way to dinner.

“Ari’s obsessed with you, you know. And I don’t understand why. I mean, look at you. All I feel from you are weak bursts of magic. It’s like you’re sputtering.”

Peter’s spell must finally be in tatters from all the abuse I’d heaped on it.

“He wants you to declare,” Sasha said peremptorily. When I didn’t respond, he continued. “He thinks we could use someone with your…
talent
.” He cleared his throat and flicked a piece of imaginary lint from his trousers to show me what he thought of my “talent.”

Beside him, I stewed.

“Ari took last month’s demon attack on one of his old girlfriends personally. As if it was directed at him.” Sasha scoffed. “I think that’s why he wants
you
to declare. He’s convinced that every scrap of waning magic in Halja can be useful. Even waning magic found in the most unlikely and unwilling places.”

I bristled, but elected not to rise to Sasha’s bait. Instead, I asked a question I’d been wondering about since I saw Beauty’s burn marks that first night I’d met Ari weeks ago.

“Where was she attacked?”

Sasha looked at me like I was a Gorgon with snakes coming out of my head. “Where was she… You don’t actually think you’re going to track that demon down, do you?” Sasha laughed, a great big belly burst of laughter that sounded like a hole opening up in the ground. “Ari just wants you to declare. He didn’t mean you should start hunting demons
now
.” He laughed again and shook his head. “He said you were conflicted about who and what you are. No kidding.”

Where did Ari get off confiding all these thoughts about
me
to Sasha?
I’d been surprised and, I couldn’t help it, a
little bit pleased, that Ari was obsessed with me, but I was beginning to understand he was obsessed about me the way you’d be obsessed about a cowlick you can’t quite smooth down. And the plant in my locker was a low blow. I started to feel itchy again and knew beyond the puff of a demon’s breath at midnight that Peter’s spell would not be able to contain my magic if I allowed it to heat up.

“Just answer the question, Sasha,” I said blandly, flicking an imaginary piece of lint off
my
trousers.

“At the train station.”

Interesting.
And somewhat worrying. Amaryllis Apatite, the Demeter Mederi that had gone missing the week before classes started, had last been seen boarding the North-South Express. The place where Amaryllis had been headed, and the place where Ari’s burned Beauty had been attacked, were one and the same: the New Babylon train station, which was just one block from here. I was suddenly glad my brother, Night, had decided to go south, with no plans to return north. Still, if the
rogare
demon responsible for the attacks was still out there, then anyone using the New Babylon train station might be at risk. I told Sasha as much. He rolled his eyes, which told me exactly what he thought of my concerns and then got back to the matter at hand.

“So what should I tell Ari about you? Are you going to declare?”

“Whether or not I declare is my business, not yours. And not Ari’s.”

“Wow. You just don’t get it, do you? If you don’t declare by Bryde’s Day, the demons will eventually find out. The fact that your magic is so weak you couldn’t control an imp won’t matter. You will have broken the rules. And the demons hate that. They won’t stand for that. They will find you and they will kill you.

“I told Ari this conversation would be a waste of time.” Sasha sighed dramatically. “I told him if you didn’t have waning magic, we didn’t need to talk. And if you did—we
still
didn’t need to talk. Because anyone with waning magic who seriously considers not declaring,
especially
a weird
mutant gender bending
freak
who has waning magic, isn’t worth working with.”

The itchy feeling I was experiencing turned fiery. Everything Sasha said may have been true, except for the part about me being weak. I had to leave
now
, before I set him on fire. But he beat me to it.

“I feel like I’m talking to a corpse,” he said. And then he got up and walked away.

I
sat there on the bench for a while. The sun set and the night grew dark. Fewer and fewer students walked through the square. My cheeks got cold and my toes grew numb. The fact was, like it or not, declaring was starting to sound like a viable option. Oh sure, I hated thinking about making any choice that someone like Sasha might have suggested. But my life was different now than it had been even one month ago. My days of growing up in secluded Etincelle or hanging out in relative anonymity at Gaillard were over. Bryde’s Day was next week and Peter still hadn’t contacted me. The likelihood that he’d find the Reversal Spell in the next seven days was about as likely as Lucifer guest lecturing for Meginnis.

My magic control had been tested more in the past four weeks than it had been in the past four years combined. If this was my new normal, I was in big trouble. Eventually, I would give myself away, or worse, hurt someone. Maybe it was time I started learning how to control my magic instead of hiding it. I hated possessing waning magic because it was destructive and deadly. But
I
didn’t have to be, right? Some people—the Mrs. Asters and Sashas in the world—would view me with disgust. But others might not. Ari hadn’t.

The temperature dropped. My breath puffed in and out in small white clouds. The square’s lamp lights came on. Finally, I got tired of just sitting there. I got up and walked back to Megiddo. Back in my dorm room, I took a good look around. Our room was more cramped than cozy, little more than a ten by ten space crammed with two twin beds, two
desks, and two wardrobes. Ivy had plastered her side of the room with pictures she’d taken during her frequent travels: panoramic vistas of Halja’s western mountains, sepia-toned shots of her posing with various crew members who worked on her family’s ferries, whimsical pictures of her fishing from docks, rowing in dragon boats, and sunbathing on dahabeahs. There were even a few of her and Fitz at the Seknecai estate.

On my side of the room? Peeling paint and crumbling plaster. Maybe it was time to put some pictures up there, even if they weren’t the pictures I’d always dreamed of.

Maybe it was time to declare. The jangly sound of our room’s electro-harmonic machine wrenched me out of my meditation. I walked over to the wall and picked up the receiver. It was Peter. And this time the connection was clear as lark song. He was at the Joshua School and he wanted to see me.

“Noon, can you come over now?”

I didn’t even spare Ivy’s pictures or my blank walls a second glance as I hung up and rushed over to meet him.

U
nlike at the Aster estate, Maegesters and those with waning magic were always welcome at the Joshua School. In modern times, Maegesters and Angels worked together all the time. Mostly, Angels were hired as consultants. Angels were experts on Apocalyptic knowledge, the history of Armageddon, and its aftermath. They were also fluent in all three of the primary demon languages. Angels were the ultimate linguists. Any case involving a matter of interpretation, whether it was historical or linguistic, was likely to have an Angel involved. Their spell casting abilities were an added boon.

The inside of the Joshua School was more modern than I expected from people who made their living off of ancient knowledge. In fact, the lobby was very contemporary, all slick lines with whitewashed walls and curvy bleached
wood trim, funky colored, oddly shaped furniture, and lots of tables made of bubbled glass and oiled iron. I walked up to a long counter that ran along part of the side wall. The setup reminded me of a hotel. Behind the counter, along the wall, were little niches for the Angel students, full of mail and packages.

A man stood behind the desk. He had one of those boyish faces that never seem to age. He watched me approach, expressionless and silent.

“I’m here to see Peter Aster,” I said.

“Is he expecting you?”

“Yes.” The lobby was so quiet and deathly still, it felt like a tomb. The ageless man walked over to the lobby’s small harmonic and cranked the handle.

“Mr. Aster? There’s a woman down here to see you…” A moment later, the man nodded, replaced the receiver, and looked at me. “Go on up,” he said. “Thirteenth floor, room seven.”

I nodded my thanks and walked over to the lift. It was self-operating and opened immediately, which was a relief. At the top, Peter was waiting for me.

His smile disappeared as soon as I stepped out.

“What happened to the cloaking spell?” he said, putting his arm around my shoulders and leading me down the hallway. “It’s practically gone. Did you have a brush with a demon over at St. Luck’s?”

I didn’t bother answering him. There’d be plenty of time to catch up later.

“Did you find the spell?” I asked breathlessly.

“Not yet,” Peter said cavalierly, not realizing the effect his words would have on me. The giddiness I’d experienced when he first called evaporated.

Peter pushed open the door to his room and led me in. Small, gleaming silver ensconced white glow lights hung around the room, reflecting off white walls and waxed wooden floors. Its brightness was jolting. Peter turned toward me, his face a mixture of concern and expectation.

“So how are things at St. Luck’s?”

Horrible. Frightening. Awful. And yet, if I were being 100 percent truthful, I’d also have to add interesting, intriguing, and challenging.

I walked over to him and put my head on his shoulder. I’d missed him. He was my oldest friend and I needed one right now. I wanted something comforting, something familiar. But there was nothing comfortable or familiar about resting my head against Peter’s chest. He stood stiffly beneath me for a moment and then slowly put his arms around me. After a moment of awkwardly embracing, I pulled away.

Peter’s room was nothing like I expected. It was in fact a suite of rooms, but clearly built for just one occupant. Apparently, Joshua School students didn’t have to bunk up like the Hyrkes at St. Luck’s. It was also flawlessly clean. The living area was defined by a spotless white love seat and a black leather chair. On the floor between them was a thick cream-colored area rug and, on top of that, another glass and iron coffee table. The only thing on the table was a piece of mail. “Masquerading as a Hyrke has been a lot harder than I thought it would be,” I said. “I thought I could do it. Now, I’m not so sure. Honestly, Peter, if you haven’t found the Reversal Spell yet, I think I’m going to declare.”

“What? How can you say that? You don’t want to be a Maegester.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve always hated the thought of having to use waning magic.” Peter nodded. When he wasn’t frowning, which was a lot of the time, Peter was handsome, almost beautiful.

“But it might be good to learn how to control it,” I said slowly, gauging his reaction.

“Learning how to control waning magic means becoming a Maegester,” he said, motioning me over to sit on the couch. I sat, teetering on its edge. He took the chair and faced me.

“You won’t be allowed to learn how to use your magic and then say, ‘no, thanks’ to the job. You’ll be required to serve the Council.”

I grimaced and Peter’s face softened.

“Do you really want to be someone whose job is to advise, judge, and possibly execute demons?”

We stared at each other for a long time. Peter could be very convincing. I sighed.

“No,” I said finally. “But it’s not just about me, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean if I don’t learn to control my magic, someone could get hurt. I do know that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life as someone who’s afraid to lose her temper for fear of burning something… or someone.”

I thought of Sasha and how much I’d wanted to hurt him. He might have said horrible things, but no one deserved to be burned. I’d never burned another person before, but then I’d never felt as cornered as I had lately. And if I didn’t declare my magic by Bryde’s Day, the cornered, panicky feeling I’d been holding at bay would turn into a full-fledged fight for my life.

“No one will get hurt,” Peter said impatiently. “I’ll cast another cloaking spell—”

“Peter!” His eyes widened and he leaned back from me. I lowered my voice. “I don’t want another cloaking spell.”

He moved to the edge of the chair. Our knees touched. He took my hands in his.

“What are you saying?” he asked. “That you’re going to declare?”

I pulled my hands free and sank back into the couch. “You can’t cloak me forever.”

“I would, if I had to. But I think I can find the Reversal Spell before Bryde’s Day.”