The accords have to do with poaching students and everyone knows about them. Each school has a pact: They will not interfere with a student’s chosen academy. In past years, elves extended an old tradition of baby stealing to student stealing, forcing the abducted to attend their classes. Things got heated between the eight schools. The three most involved were the Academies of Necromancy, Divination and Enchantment. That’s when the exchange class program was inducted. Students didn’t have to stick to one school or another any longer. They could go to all of them, if they were accepted. Thus, the program nullified war among the academies.
“If Everly chooses to attend this school, I have broken no accords.” Riven flashes his sparkling eyes to the count.
“And I don’t choose to attend your school,” I answer.
Riven comes closer and I can feel the angst settling around him. I can also see the shadows as they weave in and around him, electrifying the air. He’s powerful. Incredibly so.
I can feel the tension in the vampire’s muscles. He coils, ready to strike. But the warm, fuzzy feeling I had when Riven first walked in then reemerges.
Nasty creatures, shadow demons. The witch doctor’s words hit me. All they know is pain.
Which makes me look—really look—at Riven. His eyes are tight, and his lips are masking pain. He’s good at faking it, I’ll give him that, but behind his mask, with True Seeing, I know he’s under an enormous amount of stress. Underneath the agony, the tormented smiles, the tears he holds back, and behind the huge scar along his soul, is a soft glow that’s neither dim nor brilliant. It just is.
“Everly, if you wish to attend the Academy of Enchantment, you can transfer.” Riven does a hand flourish. “From here.”
I straighten, forcing Jean-Claude to straighten as well, and, with a little resistance from the vampire, I step out from behind the cloak.
Harlow gives me a side-eye, but steps aside as my arm stretches out to reach Riven. I just… I want to touch him. I need to touch him.
If shadow demons are so bad, then why does it feel like he’s sucking my fear, my hurts away from me and taking them into himself? As a demon, wouldn’t he push pain into me instead? Rather than suck it away?
The headmaster stands, relaxed and perfectly still. He knows what I’m about to do. My True Seeing trance overlaps the hidden world. I work my way towards Riven, hand outstretched.
Harlow gasps.
The count’s growl escalates.
I make contact with Riven’s shoulder and am propelled inward. Black streaks swirl alongside me like a liquid being poured, but the miasma flows into, rather than out of, Riven. Wind howls. There’s a light at the end of this tunnel. The closer I get, the more I see. The glow is fire. Screams chill the air. Within the blaze is a figure. It’s in the distance, but I’m getting closer… and then I reach it.
Tears stream from my eyes. I see Riven, naked and tied in chains to the four winds. Blood runs from his wrists and ankles where the cuffs clamp down on his flesh. His eyes are closed, but the howling wind, the screams, are all his. Each and every single one. The fire burns him, consumes him, as he’s a never-ending fuel source for its flames.
Still caught within the power of the True Seeing, my knees grow weak and I fall before him, winded and exhausted. I fight to catch my breath and my heart pounds. Chained, Riven opens his eyes and looks directly at me. All that fills his eye sockets is a black sludge churning within him. It’s the world’s agony. Not just Dread, this agony comes from everywhere.
And he has no relief, no joy, and no reason for this punishment other than the fact that he was born this way.
Then all goes as dark as his eyes.
♀♥♂♂♂♂
I hear more than I see, probably because I can’t open my eyes. But I can hear glass shattering, stumbling, a war cry, flesh hitting flesh, a grunt, tinkling as if small items fell to the floor from desk height, and I hear scuffling. There’s fighting going on and I can’t get up.
One more piercing battle shout, a thump on the floor, and then there’s only the sound of heavy breathing.
“Everly!” Harlow says. Feet stomp on the ground, and I feel someone next to me, presumably Harlow. From his voice’s close proximity, I know it’s Harlow looming over me.
“She’ll come to.” Riven sounds further off, somewhere around his desk.
I feel hesitation, and then the heat of Harlow’s body fades. “That shouldn’t have worked.”
“I know,” Riven sighs.
“He’s a vampire, that shouldn’t have worked.” Harlow sounds distressed.
“I have a theory.”
“Care to share it?” The incubus stresses his words.
“Not until I’m sure.” There’s a pause, then Riven says, “Harlow… do you mind? She caught me off guard and I feel…”
“Yeah, she does that.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “Here.”
Someone stutters out a relieved burst of air, and I have an idea as to what’s going on over there, but it’s going to take eyes to confirm it. I feel protective of Harlow. He’s the type of person who is what he eats, and I don’t want him to become a ball of pain.
Slowly, I pry one eyelid open and try to make sense of the room. There are things on the ground, broken glass, an overturned chair. Then I see a black lump.
“Jean-Claude?” I wheeze.
“Everly!” Harlow’s voice is a mix of concern and relief.
“Easy, easy…” Riven hisses.
“Sorry,” the incubus murmurs. “Everly, I’ll be right there.”
I look over and see Harlow holding Riven’s hands.
The
