Page 16 of Shattered Veil
A laugh rips from my throat.“Yeah. I figured that out when my so-called friend turned out to be a fucking spy. That’s what you were doing all that time, right? Spying on me for the Council?”
Fiona’s voice drops to a low murmur.“This is bigger than you and me—”
“Save it.” My skin crawls. I can feel my shadows beneath the surface, eager to lash out.“I don’t need your warnings or your bullshit concern. Sometimes the danger’s closer than you think, Dean.” I spit the words.“Guess I learned that lesson the hard way.”
Fiona’s face goes still. For a moment, I see something flicker in her eyes, and for a minute I wonder if it’s regret. But as quickly as I see it, it’s gone.
We stand there for a moment longer, locked in a silent battle of wills. Finally, she turns on her heel and walks away without another word.
Despite my anger towards Fiona and this whole situation, there’s a small part of me that misses our friendship. We used to be so close before this all began. She was the only person I missed from back home. The one person I wanted to call and talk to when it all got to be too much.
But now...now I know we can never go back to the way things were. And that thought breaks my heart.
Chapter Eight
Brigid
The whispers follow me down the hallway as I make my way towards class. My mind is still a mess of fractured thoughts and emotions. Fiona’s betrayal. The Council. Everyone’s indifference to Rory’s disappearance. I miss him and I can’t believe he’s not here. But we’ll get him back. So for now, I’ll go to class, sit in a chair and pretend to pay attention, but it’s all pointless to me now.
I’m late, the last one to arrive and the Professor has already started. I scan the room and see Eira waving me over and I slide into the seat beside her.
The sound of shuffling papers and rustling notebooks fills the room, along with the monotonous voice of Professor Azareon. The words blur together, meaningless. The whiteboard at the front is littered with indecipherable notes and equations.
Professor Azareon’s voice drones on, a distant buzz in my ears.“The Harrowing is not merely a test of magical aptitude, but a crucible that will forge your very essence.”
My eyes glaze over as he scrawls arcane symbols across the board. Circles within circles, runes that pulse with an otherworldly energy. To the others, they probably hold meaning. To me, they’re just squiggles.
“You must prepare your mind, body, and spirit,” Azareon continues.
My eyes drift to the empty seat where Marius usually sits. Where is he?
Azareon waves his hand, conjuring a shimmering projection in the air. A maze of thorns and mist materializes, moving and changing as if it is sentient.“You must navigate the labyrinth of your deepest fears, confront the demons that lurk in the recesses of your mind.”
The projection shifts, revealing a figure battling spectral entities.“Your magic alone will not save you. It is your will, your determination, that will see you through.”
Eira’s elbow gently nudges my ribs.
I blink, refocusing on Eira’s concerned face.
“You okay?”
“Fine. Just tired.”
Eira frowns, unconvinced. Before she can press further, a sharp voice cuts through the classroom.
“Professor, I have a question.”
Laria. Of course.
“Yes, Miss Delacorte?”
“I was wondering about the use of compulsion magic during the Harrowing. Surely it’s a valid strategy?”
Azareon’s brow furrows.“The use of such magic is strictly forbidden on other students—”
“Okay. But, what if someone were to use it accidentally?” Laria’s eyes slide to me, a cruel smirk playing on her lips.“Or if they simply couldn’t control their abilities?” She sends a sidelong glance my way.“That seems to happen an awful lot these days. Now that certain undesirables are here.” She blinks and widens her eyes in a pantomime of innocence before turning towards me.
Laria’s eyes burn into me, hungry and predatory. As if the Harrowing wasn’t bad enough in and of itself, I’ll also have to survive whatever dirty tricks Laria is planning.
