Chapter Ten: Under | Part 2
In the present day, Thirtyx felt the headmistress pull out of his mind. “Trying to elicit pity won’t work. But I commend you on your shielding skills. Ironic that you’re using them to betray the friends who taught you.”
“I’m not betraying them, I’m protecting them! Please, Headmistress—I believe that they’re safe!”
“Then where do you think they are?”
“I don’t know!”
“I didn’t ask if you knew, I asked what you thought.”
He sucked in a breath through his teeth. He couldn’t rightly tell her he thought they’d gone all the way to the palace in the bar and a half since the lockdown started. “I believe they left campus somehow, following directions we aren’t privy to.”
Headmistress Azirenne turned casually away from Thirtyx, a move that was somehow more unnerving than her being in his face. “Somehow. See, I think you know exactly how. But I don’t think you’ve realized that, if there’s a gap in our security, it is equally likely that someone snuck in and grabbed them as it is that they escaped!”
Her voice warbled. The burning on his wrists ebbed and intensified in waves. She’d turned away so he couldn’t see her recasting the spell to infiltrate his mind.
He slammed his eyes shut and returned to the classroom, all those years ago. After Dexerro’s taunts about his heritage, Professor Bavarren had stepped forward. “You know, Venmagalion, it’s likely that you know the reason. The memories from your infancy may be buried in your mind, but they’re still there.” Purple sparks danced in his orange eyes. “I could unlock them. Let you see your parents.”
“Professor, how is this relevant to the lesson?” Benn had spoken so quietly, and he hadn’t made eye contact, but the memory still evoked a surge of gratitude. Benn was so shy back then. Speaking up had likely taken all of his courage.
Bavarren flashed his sharp, reptilian teeth. “Real world experiences can enrich any lesson, Mr. Grimmary. Primary knowledge of a Verith’s decision to give up their child could shed light on similar struggles faced by Verith parents after the Overon regime.”
“Thirtyx wasn’t born after the Overon regime,” Rhea said with a curtness few eleven-year-olds could accomplish.
It wasn’t enough. Professor Bavarren was waving his hand dismissively before she’d even finished. “Ignore her, Venmagalion. Would you like to remember your parents?”
Headmistress Azirenne withdrew from Thirtyx’s mind again, and he breathed a guarded sigh of relief. Still facing away from him, she took her sweet time clasping her hands behind her back, right above her steadily swishing tail. “You know, I see why you care so much about protecting them. They’ve always been there for you, haven’t they?”
Thirtyx ground his teeth together. “Yes, they have. Even when you and your staff haven’t.”
The headmistress’ laughter—diabolical and unrestrained—drove a chill down Thirtyx’s spine. She turned to face him, her mouth stretched wide in a malicious smile, all remaining traces of decorum gone. “My loyalty has always been to King Grimmary and his heirs, not to some Verith social experiment whose benefactors paid an eleven-year lump sum tuition then abandoned him to be my problem. I’ve never given two damns about you, Venmagalion, and that isn’t changing tonight. Vendore, how many calming potions do you have on hand? We need to bring his defenses down.”
Professor Bavarren cleared his throat. “I have three, ma’am. Do you have any in your desk?”
“One or two.”
Thirtyx forced a chuckle, even if the idea terrified him. “That all you got? You’re torturing me, and you think five calming potions will even make a dent? They can’t make me believe I’m not in danger when I am. They won’t make me trust you.”
“I don’t need you to trust me. I need you drowsy enough to let me into your head.”
Professor Bavarren’s claws settled roughly on the back of Thirtyx’s chair, and he suppressed a shudder. “If I may, Headmistress—if you put him in a calming potion stupor, I doubt his surface thoughts will be where you’d like them to be. I have a better idea, if you’ll allow me.”
The headmistress frowned. For several moments, Thirtyx thought she was simply thinking, but her lips curled back into their wicked smile, and she gave an approving nod. “That’s not bad, Vendore.”
Calley Jones 