The Awakening Read online

  They were afraid.

  Afraid of me.

  All of a sudden, I realized why no one had offered to help, why even Candy and the other girl who’d been close to being crushed had hesitated to help. I understood why they’d passed out right after escaping the hole. It hadn’t been from shock, as I’d thought.

  They had been drained of their magic.

  I had drained them of their magic.

  I’d taken some of Roo’s, too, but she had enough to spare. She was the only one left standing, her hair barely ruffled, face as calm as always, if a little flushed. Medics rushed over to her, having already carried off an unconscious Candy and the other girl. They started to lead her away, feeling her head, assessing her for injuries. She flashed me a look that said she was okay with this, somehow sensing that I was close to lashing out at them, perhaps unwarrantedly.

  I moved to follow, and was stopped by Headmistress Talia, nearly running into the witch in my haste.

  “You have to calm down before I can allow you inside, Reini,” the Headmistress told me. “You could level the Academy with the amount of magic coursing through you right now.”

  Once again, I felt the world pause, everyone present collectively holding their breath as they awaited my reaction.

  And they were not going to be disappointed. If the Headmistress thought she could keep me from being with my sister, she had another think coming.

  A strong hand fell on my shoulder. “Come with me, Rey,” Raz said quietly, and I realized that today was the first time I’d heard him actually call me by my name, rather than princess. “I’ll help you cool down, and then I’ll take you to her.”

  I stared into his bright blue eyes, thinking that maybe I’d go through him while I was at it. I’d go through the whole damn crowd if they tried to stop me.

  “Please,” Raz added, so low that I knew only I could hear him, and I got the feeling that this was not a word he frequently spoke.

  I drew a breath.

  Then another.

  Finally, I nodded, still teetering on an edge that felt precarious at best.

  Erasmus whistled, and the air above us stirred. I managed to pull my gaze from the crowd of gaping, fearful witches to see an enormous red-brown griffon land on the field beside us. Seeing it, some of my rage cooled, my energy directing toward the creature’s examination, rather than destroying whoever was standing between my sister and me.

  The giant beast watched me with sharp golden eyes, its head cocking this way and that, feathers ruffling. Erasmus gripped my waist and hoisted me into the leather saddle that sat upon its back. Then he hopped up behind me.

  I barely had time to process what was happening before Raz clicked his tongue, and the griffon shot up into the air.

  20

  I’d been wrong before.

  I did not want to be a rider of one of these creatures.

  This shit was absolutely terrifying.

  Whatever kind of power I’d been feeling, whatever rush or high I’d gotten from all the magic I’d absorbed, left me in an instant as the ground receded further and further below us.

  My stomach rose up to my throat, did a couple twists, and then dropped down again. I squeezed my eyes shut, biting my tongue to keep a whimper from escaping me.

  Behind me, with his large, hard body pressed close against mine, I could’ve sworn I heard Raz chuckle.

  Of course he would find this amusing even though I’d never heard the bastard laugh once in the time I’d known him, despite my assuredly witty comments and jokes.

  I nudged him a little with my elbow, which was met with his rock-hard abdomen. This only made him chuckle again.

  Tucking my chin, I held on as tight as I could and vowed not to open my eyes until we touched down. As the wind whipped at my face and hair, I tried to concentrate on the fresh scent that wrapped around me, realizing that it was Raz’s scent, and that it had become familiar in the short time I’d known him.

  Salt water and pine, a perfect mixture of ocean and forest.

  “You have to look,” he said, his breath warm on my neck, making me fight a shudder as my pulse picked up pace. “Be brave, princess. You’ll be glad you were.”

  I seriously doubted that, but there was something about the man that made me want to obey, even when I was giving him crap during our trainings. Though I was sure I’d regret it, I peeled my eyes open.

  And sucked in a sharp breath at the view stretched out before me.

  An ocean of green below, cornflower blue above. The landscape rolled on and on, and to the east, in the far distance, the Atlantic Ocean, a vast, endless giant, glittering like living glass.

  The griffon beat its wings, catching the wind and riding it like a surfer upon the waves. The trees of the Pine Barrens stretched on and on, as picturesque as a painting.

  After a while, I was even able to unclench my butt cheeks, still afraid, but relaxing more the longer we flew. Also, Erasmus’s presence had a calming effect on me that I’d refused to acknowledge until just now.

  Maybe I did want a griffon, after all.

  When we started to descend a few moments later, I was almost sad to do so. The rage that had been thrumming in my veins along with my magic had all but dissipated. As the trees drew nearer and nearer, I gritted my teeth, wondering how we were going to land when I did not see any clearings below.

  I needn’t have worried, because as we dipped lower, I spotted a wooden platform jutting out from one of the tall pines like a makeshift landing pad, just big enough to accommodate the giant beast atop which we rode.

  Sure enough, the griffon landed with perfect balance upon the planks, and I saw that there was more than just a wooden platform attached to this tree—there was an entire tree house.

  I stared at the structure as Raz hopped off the griffon and gripped me by the hips again, setting me down on my feet beside him. The feel of his hands at my waist lingered a while after, but I chose to ignore the sensation the best I could.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “My private spot,” he said. “I built it.”

  My stomach fluttered as I looked down and realized we were likely a hundred and fifty feet in the air. I patted the griffon on the back, and it shot me a look before taking to the skies again. I stumbled back as it did so, Raz catching my arm and steadying me.

  “Zar likes you,” he said.

  “Zar?”

  He nodded toward the skies.

  My brow furrowed. Then I broke into a slow smile. “You named your griffon Zar? As in, Raz backwards?”

  He had the self-awareness to look a little sheepish before folding his large arms across his wide chest. “Maybe,” he said, lifting his chin.

  I laughed out loud now. He rolled his eyes. “You want to stand out here, or come inside?” he asked, and then disappeared through the woven flap that served as a door without waiting for me to answer.

  Taking the invitation, I followed him inside.

  And couldn’t help a smile at seeing the interior.

  I was impressed—not that I’d admit it to him—that he’d built it himself, because it was rather sophisticated for a tree house. The doorway opened into a living area with a knitted rug and a single chair carved from the same wood that composed the walls, roof, and floor. A knitted blanket hung over the back of the chair, and there were long rectangular openings serving as windows, which were also curtained by the same knitted material.

  When I saw the balls of thick yarn and knitting needles on a wooden table beside the chair, I spun toward Erasmus with another smile blooming on my lips, eyebrows raised in question.

  His brows furrowed, but then he followed my gaze to the knitting materials, and folded his arms over his chest again. “What?”

  I shook my head, still smiling. “Nothing.”

  “It’s a very useful skill,” he said. “And relaxing.”

  I spread my hands innocently. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You want to.”

/>   I smiled and blinked.

  Raz shook his head. I wandered over to another doorway in the back of the space, pushing the flap aside and seeing that it let into a bedroom. Seeing this, I realized that I was very much alone with him, far enough away from anyone else that if I were to scream, no one would hear me.

  “How do you feel?” Raz asked, and my heartbeat skipped as I felt his presence behind me.

  I spun to face him, having to tilt my head back to look into his eyes, trying not to get lost in the sapphire depths.

  “Better,” I said, and silently scolded myself when the word came out breathy. I cleared my throat and stepped around him. “So, what, you come out here, knit sweaters, braid your hair, and take naps?”

  His head tilted, one of his long, dark braids falling over his shoulder. I fought the urge to reach out and touch it. It looked so silky and shiny.

  “Yes,” he said.

  I nodded. “I should probably get back to Roo.”

  Raz studied me a moment, those striking blue eyes pinning me to the spot. “What did it feel like?” he asked.

  I pondered pretending not to know what he was talking about, but didn’t see the point.

  “You know how it feels to use magic? It was like that, only times a million. I could feel it in my blood, in my bones, filling me up to the point where I thought it might explode out of me.” I paused, not sure I should add my next words, but then did anyway for some reason. “It felt…amazing…heady and powerful. Terribly powerful.”

  His eyes remained locked on me, and I felt my cheeks heat a bit but pretended not to notice. “You looked terribly powerful,” he said. “They were all afraid of you.”

  I fought the urge to shift on my feet. “And you?” I asked. “Were you afraid?”

  He took a moment before answering. Then, he said, “Yes. I’d be a fool not to have been.”

  My first instinct was to recoil from this, to be ashamed or embarrassed, but instead, I found myself taking a step forward. “And now? Are you afraid now, Erasmus?”

  His head tilted, the movement reminding me of Zar, his griffon companion, long braid shifting.

  “Should I be, princess?” His voice was low, almost a rumble.

  I had to swallow before I could respond.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Someone—maybe more than one someone—at the Academy is after my sister and me. I intend to find out who, and when I do…”

  His blue eyes narrowed a touch. “And when you do, what?”

  I shrugged.

  “It’s my job to protect all the occupants of the Academy.”

  To this, I said nothing. I walked past him, toward the exit. “We should get going. I need to see Roo.”

  Raz made no move to leave. “Is that an order, princess?”

  I was about to tell him yes, and I would like fries with it.

  Instead, I sighed. “Please,” I said, turning back to face him.

  He offered me his hand, and I took it.

  “I’m fine, really,” said a voice I’d know in my sleep.

  I stepped into the infirmary and spotted Roo sitting up in her bed, looking annoyed.

  She nodded her head toward the other two prone figures in the room. “Tend to them instead.”

  The healer, an older, plump witch with a very grandmotherly look, offered a disapproving shake of her head, but scuttled away, nonetheless.

  Roo’s shoulder’s relaxed a fraction when she saw me. “Glad to see you’re feeling like your old self,” I said, taking a seat on the bed beside her. Roo had always hated any place that even remotely resembled a hospital room.

  She took my hand, squeezing it. “Where did you go?”

  I told her about the tree house, and the worry creasing her brow evaporated. She wiggled said brows instead.

  “Oh really?” she said.

  My eyes darted over to the other two occupants of the infirmary, eager to change the subject, even if it was for a less savory one. Candy and the girl from the other team lay on two other cots, as still as the dead, though I could see their chests rising and falling.

  “Are they going to be okay?” I asked.

  Roo’s gaze followed mine, but before she could answer, another voice spoke.

  “That depends,” said Headmistress Talia.

  Anger awoke in me upon seeing her, and it took me a moment to pinpoint why. When the ground had been about to crush three people into pancakes, she’d been as unwilling to help as the rest of the spectators.

  “On what?” I asked, and noted the snap to my tone.

  “On whether or not you’ll return to them the magic which you stole,” she answered.

  I blinked, not having anticipated that.

  Roo, as usual, stepped in for me.

  “Maybe she wouldn’t have had to use their magic if you would’ve done something to help us,” my sister snapped. “She saved our lives. You should be thanking her for not letting students die on your watch.”

  The headmistress raised her pointed chin a fraction, looking at Roo through those cat-rimmed glasses. She tilted her head toward Candy and the other girl. “Does that look like life to you, Roonie Aldainaire?” she asked.

  Roo would not be deterred so easily. “Why didn’t you help?”

  Headmistress Talia’s jaw clenched. “Because much like the two young ladies lying there, I’ve been largely drained of my magic. There was nothing I could do.”

  “Bullshit,” Roo replied.

  “You think that was easy?” the headmistress asked. “You think I enjoy being helpless?”

  “I think you’ve done very little to prepare us for whatever it is you think we’re supposed to do to fix this world we’ve found ourselves in. I think I don’t trust you, or this place, or anything we’ve been fed thus far,” Roo said.

  Oh-kay. So I guess we were just laying our cards on the table, then.

  The headmistress stared at Roo for a moment before looking to me, but if she thought I’d take a side against my sister, she was sorely mistaken.

  I wasn’t sure what kind of response I expected to that, but I did expect a response. Instead, the headmistress swept her gaze back to me.

  “Will you return their magic to them, or not?” she asked.

  I decided to think later about the fact that the answer I gave, was not the answer I wanted to give. Or the way the Headmistress looked at me as she asked the question, as if she fully expected me to refuse.

  I studied Candy and the other girl for a few moments before speaking, willing my heart to take precedence over my mind.

  “I will,” I said. “Just show me how.”

  21

  It took more will than I would admit.

  As the magic left me, it felt as though I were giving my own life blood, or sacrificing an appendage. I had to keep reminding myself that I was only giving back what I’d borrowed, that it hadn’t been mine in the first place.

  And, yet, it felt like mine. Giving it back, though I knew it was right, felt terribly wrong.

  I understood the skeptical look on the headmistress’s face now, even if I sort of despised her for it. It was clear that until after the deed was done, she hadn’t truly expected me to do it.

  Candy’s eyes blinked open once I’d returned her small bit of magic, and she stared up at me like she’d never seen me before. “What happened?” she asked.

  I decided to let the others explain, and after returning the other girl’s magic—her name was Hillary, I learned—all I wanted to do was get to bed. Even though their magic had been a sip in comparison to the ocean’s worth that was Roo’s and mine, the after-feeling was still that of being drained.

  Before I could depart from her, however, Candy gripped my wrist. “Thank you,” she said, voice raspy.

  I nodded, feeling guilty about the fact that I hadn’t really wanted to give her magic back, and excused myself before she could say anything else. After a few sharp exchanges, Roo was discharged, and we headed toward the dining hall together, my hu
nger the only sensation matching my fatigue.

  It was after the dinner hour by the time we got there, a whole day having passed between the Sphera match and leaving the infirmary, but there were still a good number of students present.

  As Roo and I entered, a silence fell over the hall, every eye in the place turning toward us.

  I noticed that this was not like the first time we’d entered the hall over a month ago, where mostly curiosity had been reflected in the staring faces. This time, there was no denying the emotion underlying the attention—fear.

  As if I was prone to walking in here and draining them all for the hell of it. I struggled against rolling my eyes at the whole situation.

  Roo and I gathered our food and took a seat at our usual table, noticing that the spots around us were totally empty. Genie, Indi, and Hilda had likely already finished their meals, but the insecure part of me wondered if they were avoiding us as well.

  “I’m starting not to like the vibe around this place,” I admitted, keeping my voice low.

  Roo raised an eyebrow. “Starting to?”

  “I just get the feeling that they somehow blame us for what happened at the game yesterday. Like we planned it or something. Like you didn’t almost die.”

  I was getting angry again, so I took a deep breath to cool myself.

  “We still don’t have any answers,” Roo said. “We still don’t know who was behind any of what has been happening. The wraiths, the ground opening up to eat me…”

  She shuddered, and I had to bite down on the anger that rose in me at seeing her upset.

  “Who could do something like that? Who has enough power?”

  She shrugged. “I’d assume it’d be someone with an earth affinity.”

  I nodded, having not thought about this. “Who do we know with an earth affinity?”

  Roo lifted her shoulders again. “Beats me… But finish your food, because I think I know a good place to start our investigation.”