Page 100 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

“She fought to participate today,” he leans into me subtly and whispers, “I think when she accidentally blew Ms. Abrams halfway across the room was when she got her way.”

“That would make sense.” I reach for the back of my neck. “It’s no fun.”

“Magic rarely is,” he says.

“Tell me about it.” I think of the dreams, the fire, the metaphorical murders, and then the ones I’ve actually committed. I want to shudder, but I don’t let myself.

Kai scoffs and cracks his knuckles—which I notice have little bolts of silverish-purple energy sparking over them.

Emotion is power, so keep your wits about you.

“It’s the betrothal,” he says abruptly. “The event I’m sitting out for.”

“Betrothal?” I ask and hope it’s not a word I should know.

“An agreement to wed, bound by our magic,” he says.

I don’t know what to think about that. Yeah, it sucks to be forced to marry someone, but am I supposed to feel pity for someone who’s about to inherit more money and power than I could ever even dream of? There’s no way.

“All I can really think to say is that I’m sorry.” I play to my strengths and give him the consolation he wants from me. “No one deserves to go through that.” I force my eyes not to roll.

“I vaguely remember us having a conversation in this vein already,” he says, his voice a little less dreary than before.

“You were pretty droozed,” I tell him. Another reminder of all the good magic does me. “But I told you I was sorry and I believe you told me that people normally say congratulations.”

“Sounds about right,” he presses his lips together, “that is what they say. Not one person has even said ‘my apologies’ and here you are using the real thing.”

“I think it warrants it.” I nod with my words, putting on a convincing show.

“The only one.”

When I walk out from the classroom I see Lucian, waiting for me, and my heart plummets. The body’s resurfaced; they’ve found it and he’s here to tell me to run, I just know it. I walk to him, keeping the panic from my face and my eyes that would otherwise be fear-stricken.

“What is it?” I ask in an urgent whisper.

“We need to talk.”

It feels like someone just took a knife to my stomach and cut until there was nothing left. I’m empty, but I could also puke.

I nod my head, keeping the muscles of my face restrained in the ways I’ve trained. “Okay.” It’s funny, my voice sounds so casual and lighthearted, but my heart is thumping in a way that could constitute death if it went just a beat faster.

Lucian begins walking, and I follow him. I think of something to say to fill this silence, but I have nothing. All I can focus on is my worry.

We get to the lake and he says, “I know where your mother is.”

I shake my head a little and try to meet his gaze, but his eyes are everywhere but on mine. I want—need—him to look at me. What does he mean he knows where my mom is?

Has something happened?

My mind races to the worst—she was kidnapped by his parents and now she’s dead. She’s dead.

She’s not dead. I choke the thought; I can’t let it grow.

“Is this some kind of a joke?” I find my voice.

“It wouldn’t be a very funny one,” he says while he looks into the iridescent water.

“Okay.” I press my lips together and keep my twisted tongue from twisting anymore. No body was found and Lucian found my mom. Is that right? “Where is she?”

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