Chapter 25

D ae paused in the hallway, stopping just short of the doorframe to Ezzyn’s lab. For ten days, they’d been back at the university, and she’d found excuses to keep away from the room—from him—for every one of them. Catching up on the classes she’d neglected while away, studying for her Adept One exam right around the corner. Spending an unmentionable number of hours hidden at Eunny’s shop because even sharing the same campus as him hurt too much.

He didn’t exactly try to find her, either. Both the campus and the town were only so large, yet still possessed enough space if neither party made an effort to see one another. For ten days, that had worked, but Dae still had a job, and a sense of duty that could no longer be shirked.

The rustle of a page being turned and the clink of pen against inkwell drifted through the open door.

Lips pinching together, Dae steeled herself and stepped inside. Ezzyn sat at his usual workstation, the logbook for in-progress trials laid out before him. His pen hovered over the page when she came in. Slowly, he set it aside and looked up.

They regarded each other from across the lab.

“You withdrew your application for the summer fellowship.”

Dae went to her desk. The stack of correspondence and other reports she’d put off in favor of the Rhell trip appeared to have grown. A surveying glance of the lab—except for where Ezzyn sat—revealed that she had plenty of records to check and update.

Seating herself, she began triaging the oldest paperwork.

Ezzyn sighed. “I can assure you that you won’t be assigned to my work area.”

“You can understand how your assurances don’t inspire confidence when it comes to my work.” Dae didn’t look up as she sorted correspondence into two piles. “Or you.”

“Gods fucking br— Anadae, you can’t think—”

“Stop,” she said, no trace of a waver in her voice. Nothing but ice. He’d made his choice, and so she had made hers. No Ezzyn, no Rhell. Any faith she’d had in herself and her work there was shattered. Foolish Ana, for believing that another had selfless intentions in steering her life. She should’ve known better. “I think we should return to written communication. There’s no reason for us to talk.” She finally met his eyes with a flat stare.

A muscle twitched along the side of his face as he clenched his jaw. “If that’s what you would prefer.”

“It is.”

They went back to work, a bitter silence falling over the lab.

Vaadt wasn’t pleased by Dae’s decision to abandon the Rhell fellowship, either. Dae was cagey with her answers, and her advisor reluctantly passed on information about other summer opportunities.

“I admit, I’m struggling to understand your reasoning,” Vaadt said, a few weeks after the spring trip, when Dae couldn’t avoid meeting with them any longer. “All of the reports I’ve seen say your research was received very well.”

“I made some strides, yes. I’ve been keeping my Den’olm consulting lead informed of my continuations here.”

“Are you planning to investigate a different field?”

“No, I’m happy with environmental restoration work.”

Vaadt waited, expectant. When Dae offered nothing more, they took a long, measured breath before saying, “Is there a problem with your assistantship?”

Dae’s shoulders hunched. “Why would— Has he, um, has Mr. Sor’vahl said—”

“Everflow drown me.” Vaadt rubbed their temples. “Listen, I generally don’t involve myself in my advisees’ personal lives, however—”

“Everything is fine,” Dae said quickly. “I just—it’s Adept One soon, and I’d like to consider all options once I can commit time to them.”

The look on Vaadt’s face said they didn’t believe Dae’s bullshit for an instant. They took another long inhale, as if summoning every scrap of patience they possessed for dealing with obnoxious graduate students. “A colleague in Grae Port maritime work is running a study on harbor degradation, and there’s a Magister Three grovetender putting a lab together for desertification in southern Graelynd. I’ll send along the application materials.”

Thanking the professor, Dae fled the office.

The Adept One exam was an excuse for Dae’s indecision. A flimsy shield behind which she hid her inability to focus. For all that the year was meant to have been built around it, for all that passing was supposed to be the only immediate goal in her life, Dae didn’t remember more than flashes of the day-long exam.

Everything reminded her of Ezzyn. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t spoken directly in months. Treated each other like antagonistic strangers during seminar or in the lab.

But the memory of him was inescapable. The way he’d described energy expenditure and the natural way the ley lines bled into the earth, how one could harvest it and stretch the magic further with relatively low effort. He’d been talking about Rhell’s wellspring, but the methodology sprang to mind as she scribbled exam answers on environmental efficiencies.

Or the way his mind picked apart experiment strategies, measured strengths and weaknesses of various disciplines and how they could be individually tested for maximum effectiveness within the same trial. He’d always been biased in favor of utilizing fire the most. Dae had finessed the work to include the other schools of magic to greater degrees, but she built off Ezzyn’s research and aims.

When answering the final question—which felt like a broader approach to the field, almost philosophical, asking how she would design an experiment to maximize varied talent and knowledge levels—she thought only of Ezzyn’s hands. Unmarred by stress cracks. His hands from before, the strong fingers that had laced through hers as they stood on the lakeshore. The invitation of his magic. Not simply to learn but to familiarize, to know him down to his core. She’d thought that she had, at least a little. Gotten a glimpse.

He’d called her a distraction. Said she didn’t know him at all. That they were nothing more than the bloodless terms of their arrangement. In this year of remaking herself, she’d done it all on the foundation of her old life. Perhaps a fresh start was hopeless unless she pared everything of Ana Helm away. Small thanks be to Ezzyn, then, for making her realize the truth.

She walked out of the exam hall in the Dome, making her way across the courtyard without a destination in mind. Somehow, hours had passed, yet she retained none of it, felt nothing about having just sat for the exam. The culmination of a year’s effort, the estrangement from her parents, uprooting her entire life. And yet all she felt was a vague numbness.

A hand on her arm jarred her from such thoughts. She stopped at the edge of the courtyard to find herself face-to-face with Brint.

“Have a moment?” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the housing complex.

It was the closest she’d been to him since the Rhell trip. He looked … strained. There was a tightness to him, and not just in his grip on her arm. The lines at the corners of his eyes were pronounced. Coarse stubble on his face implied he hadn’t shaved for days, and the pallor of skin was undeniable. Dae couldn’t remember ever seeing him look so out of sorts. But it was the end of term, and she had tried to know as little as possible about his studies here. The end of exams could be an explanation for his appearance. Except for his eyes. The hand still on her arm. There was something desperate about him, caged.

“Actually, no. Just came from taking my Adept One exam.” Dae tried to shrug out of his touch. “Brint, let go.”

He held on, voice lowering despite no one being around. It made Dae focus on him by reflex. “I insist. It’s about Calya.”

Cold swept through her, made her go still. She firmly planted her feet. “If something’s wrong with Calya, then tell me now. And let go.”

His grip tightened. “You don’t want me to say it here, Ana.”

“It’s Anadae.” She jerked free, the violence of the motion taking Brint by surprise. “Whatever it is, say it.”

Brint shrugged. “I have a business proposition for you.”

“What— Why is that— What does Calya have to do with—”

“The protection deal between HNE and AG. There’s been a complication, and I’m—”

Whatever alarm she’d felt when he’d first approached vanished as suspicion took its place. Dae’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

Brint scoffed. “It doesn’t matter. What I’m doing now is all you need to worry about.”

No chance of that. Dae let out a short, disdainful laugh. “If you fucked up, then I really should talk to Calya.”

“She doesn’t know yet, because I’m trying to save her precious job.” Brint’s lip curled. “Calya only finds out if the Coalition does, and then the papers do, and everyone gets our ugly, highly public mess.”

The Coalition of Trade held power equal to Graelynd’s Lower Council, and they wielded it with an iron fist. Upsetting them was never a quiet affair.

“Sounds like you’ve caused plenty of damage,” Dae said. “What do you expect me to be able to do about it?”

“Marry me. One year, and then we have an amicable split.”

Dae’s mouth fell open. She blinked at him, agog, but Brint looked … serious. “What?” she said, voice loud with shock.

“Keep your voice down,” Brint snarled. “Look, I’ve been trying to ease you into this, but we’re past that. This is just business. We say we reconnected up here. We were engaged forever, anyway, so no point having a delay again.”

“Why would I ever do that?”

“Because otherwise, my failure falls on Calya.” Brint pitched his voice up. “Young, ambitious Calya Helm, going after too many projects for such an inexperienced girl to handle. Did you hear, she wants to take over the company! Botching a big joint effort with Avenor Guard sure doesn’t sound like leadership quality. Too impatient, and it cost them tens of thousands of gold crowns!” He smirked, tone returning to normal. “I can see the headlines now.”

“Calya will have documentation,” Dae said. “If it’s your mistake, then the paperwork will prove it.”

“Will it?” Brint cocked his head to the side. “Calya did the final signoff on everything for this, including the budget. Insisted on it. If I was a bit late, if some of my numbers changed at the last minute…” Brint shrugged again, a sly curve to his lips.

All the delays, Calya’s repeated trips to Sylveren. The trustee their father had appointed to judge Calya’s preparedness, her fitness as a successor…

“You pathetic bastard,” Dae said.

Brint spread his arms wide as he leered at her. “It’ll be embarrassing for me, but I’ll hang it around Calya’s neck. I’m Brint Avenor, sweetheart. Who do you think the public will believe?”

Brint, with his godsdamned charm and his aristocratic family. He was probably right; his actions would garner no more than a slap on the wrist. Avenor Guard would be fine, his family’s political standing none the worse for wear. Helm Naval could weather such losses and inevitable fines from the Coalition, too. But Calya?

“I want to avoid this. Some of my investment contacts up here are a bit, ah, shall we say, skeptical of my claims. But if I have the elder, responsible Helm daughter? And your father to lend support?” Brint gave her an imploring smile, his manner changing on the spot. “One year, that’s all I’m asking, Ana. Do it for your sister.”

A year. She’d seen how quickly one could pass. If it could spare Calya, it had to be considered, didn’t it? And maybe Dae could keep a closer eye on Brint. He couldn’t get them into more trouble if she inserted herself more into the business dealings. She could use the optics of their marriage if Brint balked. A year wasn’t so much if it was for her—

Except, no. Dae would do it for Calya. Dae. Not Brint. Selfish, asshole extraordinaire Brint Avenor didn’t care about Calya. Wouldn’t shackle himself to Dae for her.

But for himself?

“It’s Anadae,” she said. “And no, I won’t marry you. I refuse. Whatever trouble you’re in”—she gave him a nasty smile of her own—“which you undoubtedly are, to come up with this farce, I hope it sinks you.”

He grabbed her by the shoulders. Shook her. “This is the real world, Ana. Outside of this godsforsaken miserable shithole of a valley.” A fleck of spit hit her cheek as he snarled, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. What do you care about family? You happy Calya’s about to get fucked without you—”

Family.

Either the word means something to you, or it doesn’t.

Brint’s fingers dug into her skin as his voice grew to a yell.

Such loyalty can’t be taught.

Ice exploded around her, the ever-present moisture in the Valley’s air responding to her magic at a mere twitch of her fingers.

Brint stumbled back with a breathy squeak.

Dae’s hand lashed out, closed into a fist as her magic responded at lightning speed, reacting on instinct. Brint made a choked sound, backing up further as his hands went to his mouth. A garbled mess fell from his numb lips, his tongue half-frozen within his icy mouth.

Considering that Dae had never so much as glanced at the theory of combat magic, she thought her first attempt wasn’t half bad. Intuitive indeed.

She advanced on him. “If you dare to come after my sister, if you say one word against her, Everflow as my witness, I will ice the godscursed blood in your fucking veins, do you hear me?”

Brint pointed at her, eyes wide. “You mad bitch,” he said in a hoarse voice as her magic melted away. He looked around, arms gesturing in wild movements.

It brought Dae back to herself, made awareness and realization slam back in. They didn’t have a gathered crowd, but several people had stopped around the courtyard and watched them. Snatches of conversation in hushed tones reached her ears, though her mind had gone too numb to make out the words.

It didn’t matter. She’d attacked Brint on school grounds. In front of witnesses.

Dae spun on her heel and ran for the side gate that led down to the lake.