Chapter Seventeen: Tested | Part 1
Thirtyx and Rhea followed the fuming headmistress into the hall with their heads hung.
Rhea reached for her ear, but Azirenne grabbed her arm with uncanny reflexes. Rhea was too shocked to react as Azirenne drew a quick sigil on the back of her hand, leaving a pulsing purple mark.
The headmistress had bound her magic.
Rhea spluttered with indignation, but the headmistress merely continued down the hall with a satisfied flick of her tail. “You may be among the most accomplished sorcerers of your age, Miss Grimmary, but you are far from invincible.”
Thirtyx swallowed his dread, and together, he and Rhea proceeded after her.
The inability to communicate was Thirtyx’s most immediate problem, but it was far from his most pressing one. Without magic, how well could Rhea defend him if Azirenne chose to torture him again? But if that was the plan, why had she invited the princess along?
Thirtyx stole a glance at Rhea, who stared straight ahead, her brow furrowed in concentration, likely fighting to escape the bind on her magic. She must have felt his gaze, though. She met his eyes with an expression that looked entirely out of place on the future queen’s face.
Fear.
Azirenne’s door let out a vicious squeal when opened—a squeal that struck a resonant chord with the panic rising in Thirtyx’s veins. Rhea entered first, offering him the chair closer to the exit in case he needed to run.
The door closed with another squeal and a snap.
“You had better have a good explanation for manhandling me, Headmistress,” Rhea said evenly.
“To the contrary, I think you had better have a good explanation for plotting to steal a Selkie’s own skin from them.”
“Oh, so Mercuria left that part out when she ratted on us, did she?” Rhea folded her arms. “Farish and several others tried to kill Thirtyx, and the proof is on their pelts.”
The headmistress bristled. “Miss Grimmary, you cannot simply throw around accusations of attempted murder.”
“That’s why we wanted to get you the proof first,” Thirtyx said quietly. “When I went up the river during the Magic Comp, the Selkies tried to drown me, but they didn’t realize I’d been warded with a Foe’s Beacon. We were trying to show you the marks on Farish’s pelt.”
Azirenne’s nostrils flared. “I have three responses to that, Venmagalion. Firstly, you know very well that little trip isn’t sanctioned by the school, so Wydewood isn’t liable for anything that happened during it.”
“I bet you conveniently wouldn’t have been liable for him getting tortured in your office if he’d have stayed, either,” Rhea grumbled under her breath.
Azirenne slashed her finger through the air, and Rhea gave a closed-lipped squeal of surprise. Rhea touched her sealed mouth, as if in shock, but her bulging eyes suggested the caliber of words she’d say if she were able.
“Second…” Azirenne turned her glare back to Thirtyx. “I am very curious why you’re just now telling me this when that trip was weeks ago. If attempted murderers are walking around my school, don’t you think I should know?”
Azirenne’s treatment of Rhea should have frightened Thirtyx, but it emboldened him instead. “Would you have punished them?”
“I would have given them a fair trial before the school board—”
“A fair trial, Headmistress?”
“Thirdly,” she hissed. “How dare you pull a stunt like this today, while everyone is reeling from a tragedy?”
“We weren’t sure he’d survive much longer if we didn’t!” It appeared Rhea had finally freed her magic to nullify the silencing spell. “Have you seen the looks he’s been getting? Heard what our classmates are saying?”
“I can’t say I’m inclined to disagree with them, Miss Grimmary—which is why I brought you here alongside Venmagalion. It’s time for you to see reason. The ambassador to the Verith state is missing, for the Twins’ sake!”
“Thirtyx hasn’t had contact with the Verith state in almost eight years! Tell her, Thirtyx.”
“I haven’t had any contact with the Verith state in—”
“Miss Grimmary, do you understand how many ways that statement could remain accurate while he’s still getting information to them or from them?”
Calley Jones 