Chapter Sixteen: Burden of Proof | Part 4
Rhea pursed her lips. It wasn’t often that her queenly confidence faltered, but she looked haunted now, in a way Thirtyx had scarcely seen. “I’m starting to think we’ve passed the point where persuasion is possible.”
Thirtyx looked to Benn, who nodded his agreement. “We need to focus on damage control—protecting you instead of convincing them.”
The twins’ acknowledgement of the issue made it feel more dire. It wasn’t too late for him to leave—get a loan from Benn and Rhea and strike out on his own. But if tensions had escalated here, they certainly had out there.
And if the culprit was not only a Verith but one with no ties to Everis, perhaps Thirtyx, with all his similarities, was more anathema than the state itself.
Seerla’s hand trailed down his arm to wrap around his fingers. She gave them a reassuring squeeze. It was a testament to the severity of the situation that neither Rhea nor Benn reacted.
Thirtyx squeezed back as if to draw from her strength. “Then we have to make sure our heist is a success.”
Benn looked taken aback. “Is that the best idea, considering—”
“Rhea, is your meeting still on with Azirenne?”
Rhea answered with a dumbfounded nod. “I mean, she hasn’t told me otherwise.”
“So, this might be the one chance we get before they try to take me out again! We have a plan. We’ve optimized it as much as possible. Let’s put it into action.”
The concern on the twins’ faces confirmed that he likely looked as deranged as he felt, but he pressed on. “I’ve spent so many years playing defense to look as innocent as possible, but innocence isn’t working. They don’t care if I’m innocent! So it’s time to stand up for myself. It’s time to play offense for a change.”
“I’m in,” Seerla said immediately. Thirtyx became acutely aware of how hard she was still gripping his fingers. He met her eyes for a moment, but the passionate, unfettered pride in her expression made his insides squirm with mingled joy and terror. He looked back to Benn and Rhea.
“You raise a good point,” Benn said through a resigned sigh. “It could be now or never. So, if you’re willing—”
Rhea snorted. “With a speech like that, I’d sure hope he’s willing. And I don’t think he’s leaving us much choice.” Her alarm gave way to the conspiratorial smirk they were far more accustomed to. “Alright then, friends. Let’s make some Selkies pay.”
They remained in the room through lunch and their free period. As Rhea walked Thirtyx and Seerla to their capstone, Thirtyx caught mentions of matching bloodfire and drops of Grimmary’s name in the incessant whispers.
He felt far too many eyes on him as they passed.
At the end of the capstone—another unbearable period of independent study—Thirtyx found that Benn had sprinted across the school to meet him as he exited. Thirtyx and Seerla were both grateful. The looks from their classmates had gradually shifted from irritated to violent.
On the walk to their final class, Benn revealed that Mr. Liamer had passed during the last block.
Does the public know, or did you hear that from Grimmary? Thirtyx asked.
Public. Pfah magic can do a lot, but we still can’t have a conversation from that distance. He had to project himself into your rhetoric class earlier so we could talk. That’s obviously a trick he has to use sparingly.
Benn shared an imagined view of Grimmary’s transparent, ethereal hand guiding Rhea’s solid one through a message to head to her room. Thirtyx swallowed hard. For all intents and purposes, the king had been there, right beside him, and he’d never suspected a thing.
Calley Jones 