18. Scythe

Chapter 18

Scythe

D amien returned to his office this afternoon to find it completely flooded with sewage water. Apparently, the school had decided it didn't take well to a foreign phoenix torturing the students, including the only resident dragon.

As a result, Georgia has set up our new deputy an office in one of the smaller classrooms, the smell of sewage still lingering on his business shoes. I sit, with Lyle and Marduk, before the teacher's desk as the fan whirrs above us, stirring the stands of my hair.

The three of us large males sitting here should be something out of a comedy, if it wasn't for the look of pale-faced shock on Damien's face as Marduk shows him a photo on his phone.

I don't know what it is, only that it's some heavy blackmailing material that's making Damien all but soil his pants. It's likely to be some sort of unsavoury fetish. It always is.

"If Mr Pardalia is permitted to be in the faculty despite his regina being a student, then I will be too," Marduk says, pocketing his phone. "Isn't that right, my good Lord Agnis?"

Damien audibly swallows, eyeing the tiger with nervousness. "Very well, Marduk. That seems to be in order. You…You will submit your teaching plans to me by the end of the week."

Marduk grins, the picture of pure male joy. "Very well, Lord Phoenix! Now we can put this little mishap all behind us and move forward into the semester."

Lyle casts me a dark look and I don't know if he's more concerned about Damien's response to this or Marduk's idea of what teaching a class looks like.

"There is the other matter," I say, leaning back into my chair, making it creak under my weight, "of me needing to take Aurelia away this weekend."

"I will also be taking my pack," Marduk adds, clasping his hands in front of him. "The Devi pack." He beams at us.

Minnie has been rather shy around Marduk's intimidating presence, but he's determined to prove himself and is holding his enthusiasm back with great discipline.

"I will not allow it," Damien says tightly, looking between Lyle and I. "It is highly out of order. She is still under the Council's jurisdiction."

"Aurelia needs to be seen," I say. "This is her right as the only living Boneweaver. The other territory leaders will demand it soon enough."

"She is still a criminal," Damien presses. "She has been tried for murder and arson at court and her execution has only been delayed?—"

Lyle waves his hand in annoyance. "We all know that is a moot point now. No one is executing a Boneweaver."

Damien raises a brow. "You are very sure of that. While her execution might now be in question, she still needs to be held accountable for the crimes she was tried as guilty for. You took her to court, Lyle, but it is now my responsibility to ensure justice is served."

"Celeste advised?—"

" Celeste ," Damien spits harshly, "is still in meditation, and as such, has no say in this."

If I was a laughing sort of beast, I would have laughed at the clearly troubled look Damien has on his face right now. Celeste had been in meditation for longer than would be considered normal for a phoenix, but it's important work and the school is ensuring she's not disturbed by securing the door to her apartment.

I throw a winning hand onto the table. "Aurelia has agreed to your terms."

That shuts the phoenix lord up. He wasn't expecting it to be so easy, and frankly, neither had I. It seems that none of us expected Aurelia's level of loyalty to her friends.

"Well." Damien's aura suddenly flashes an elated yellow. "She has some sense, I see."

Lyle abruptly stands as if he can't stomach sitting here any longer. "You can expect her during dinner service at the jungle gym. It's the best place for this."

Damien purses his lips but has no choice but to acquiesce as Lyle stalks for the door. Marduk sweeps a courtly bow before also leaving.

I stare at the phoenix for a moment, simply watching the colours of his aura tremble and shake around him, just as my ghosts and ghouls swarm around me. Damien meets my gaze for as long as he can before looking down. Despite his draconic protective charm, he is still frightened of me.

But I am not interested in his fear. There is something notable hovering in the air next to him that is new. A transparent female figure, slender and older. Possibly a mother or aunt, long dead but not long gone from this plane. She hovers there, watching over him with sad eyes. She shakes her head, red hair floating in its own ghostly breeze.

Sometimes it's hard to discern whether a vision is a hallucination or an actual ghost. But my hallucinations are almost always negative or malevolent in nature, and this woman appears sad, not evil.

She shakes her head at me again, signalling with her hands. She shows me a photo of a little boy, undoubtedly a young Damien, then moves her hand in the shape of a path, crossing her fists together to make an X.

I sigh. When I first arrived here, any negative entity, ghost or spirit immediately fled upon feeling my presence. I didn't like talking to them, and I made it clear I was no messenger. But every so often, usually mothers or children, persisted through the discomfort of me.

"Can I help you with anything else?" Damien's voice is stiff as he marks his papers with irritable strokes of his ballpoint pen.

"No," I say flatly. "Your mother is a different story, however."

His head snaps up, golden eyes blazing with fury.

I hold his gaze steadily, and for a breath in time, I consider not telling him. But this may actually benefit me. "She's saying that the path you travel is the wrong one. Your downfall lies at its end."

Damien's fist closes around his pen before he shoots to his feet, pointing at me. "Is that a threat? How dare you! You?—"

"When spirits give you warnings, you heed them," I say dryly.

Damien's nostrils flare, shoulders heaving under heavy inhalations.

I rise to my feet, turning to the old Lady Agnis. "It's up to him now, my lady."

Her eyes glisten, but she can only stare longingly at her son.

As I leave, my gathering swarm leaves with me.