Victor shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes. “You can’t do this. She’s alone. She has no one. They won’t keep her at St. Fabian’s if the bills aren’t paid—” He’s screaming now, raw and desperate. “Please, I’m begging you. Please, don’t do this to my mother.”
“You did this to her yourself,” Beau says quietly, before wrapping his hand around Viola’s and tugging her toward the front door. “Let’s go.”
With the same silence and resignation she’s been simmering in for the last half hour, she lets my brother drag her forward. I reach for her other hand, and our fingers brush against each other’s. But she doesn’t stop. She is a shell of her former self, and all I want to do is breathe life back into her.
Right as I’m about to leave, Paltro’s heavy hand grips my arm. “Son, I understand the obligations of your bond.” He lifts his nose at Raiku. “But stay away from that Corvi girl. Nothing good comes from that family.”
My head jerks backward. Paltro isn’t drafting me to Firstline to cover for us; he’s doing it to separate me from Viola.
Gorhail Institute is a murder of crows when we cross the main gate. Half the House of Death stands still, their black coats pulled tight, their eyes trained on our car. Above, the dark of the night gives way to the dancing blue and orange hues of the morning sun.
News travels fast, I suppose.
Lorne stands in the middle of the crowd, his face red. Overseer Delaney is at his side. They look like angry parents who have caught their children slipping into their house past curfew.
The moment the car comes to a halt, Lorne jerks the door open, dragging Viola out by the arm. His fingers dig into her skin as he pulls her farther. She stumbles.
Railesza’s head snaps in her direction, uncoiling herself around Beau’s arm. She hisses in frustration. Now that she’s no longer with me, she cannot move at will—she has to wait for Beau’s command.
“Viola, you’re bleeding. What did they do to you?” Lorne squeezes her arm once more.
I’m already out of the car, Raiku’s eyes locked on him.
Viola jerks away from him, losing her footing. I brace her fall, wrapping my arm around her waist. “Need I remind you about touching people against their will?” I ask. Raiku hisses at him, fangs out.
“Always with the threats, Archyr. If you never act upon them, they’re worth as much as you. Nothing.” Lorne bares his teeth. I don’t care that I’m outnumbered by Mortemagi. If he touches her one more time, Raiku will pump him with so much venom he’ll wish he was dead.
Viola gestures to the crowd of Mortemagi and raises her eyebrows in question. I shrug. If she thinks I care about us being seen together, I don’t. Every time Lorne looks at her, Iwanthim to know he’ll have to contend with me. Bond aside, Viola brought my brother back to life, and I owe her the world.
Turning her eyes to Lorne, she lets out a long sigh, then speaks. “We found Olivia’s killer.”
Panic flits across Lorne’s eyes, as if he’s only now registering the possibility of Olivia’s murder. He shakes his head in disbelief, his attention wholly turned to Viola. “Olivia was k-killed?”
“Corvi, Archyr—” Delaney barks. She breaks off from the crowd, hurrying toward us and Lorne.
With the haunting towers of the House of Death in the background, she looks like a wraith. Her eyes fall to my arm around Viola, and I pull her closer to me, holding Delaney’s questioning gaze. She opens her mouth to say something but clamps it shut when a car door opens.
The moment she notices Beau, her eyes bulge out of their sockets. In typical Delaney fashion, she takes in a steadying breath and composes herself immediately, because Gods forbid anything catches her by surprise. “Cardot, you are… alive.”
“Not by choice,” Beau mumbles, and both Viola and I glare at him.
“Regardless,” she snaps. “Corvi, report to my office immediately.” Her head then tilts up to me. “Don’t ever hold one of my Mortemagi hostage—”
A Magus Mortemagi taps on her shoulder, interrupting her threat. Her eyes widen, and her head snaps toward the institute. Without acknowledging Beau and me, Delaney directs everyone to the House of Death, dragging Viola with her.
As I watch her walk away, my mind screams that she doesn’t belong with them. And if my heart feels like it’s caving in only watching her walk to her House, how will I leave for Firstline later?
Hollow Tree’s dining hall is alive this morning. For the first time in days, there’s a semblance of normalcy. A couple of young Magus fight over honey fig bread for breakfast. They only like it because it’s new to them. By the Pine Festival in a month, they’ll be sick of it.
“Someone snuck into the kitchens,” Lyria teases me as she gestures to the honeyfig loaf I’m holding. She and Beau join me on the balcony overlooking Hollow Tree. After Lyria cried a river’s worth of tears earlier this morning, they’ve been joined at the hip. She hasn’t let him out of her sight for the last couple of hours.
“I still haven’t forgiven you for snitching on us to Paltro,” I say. If Lyria hears me, she doesn’t show it; she carries on her observation of the dining floor.
“It’s a bazaar down there. I had to fight my way for one muffin.” She scrunches her nose. “Beau refuses to eat. I keep telling him that Viola didn’t sacrifice herself so he could starve to death.”
My sister is now at the stage of using humor to deal with tragedy—shedid the same four months ago, when Dad died. Right after we came back and told her about Viola, she sat in silence for a while, then sobbed against Beau, and, after that, spent hours scattering her research on the floor of Founder’s Room.
“I’m not hungry.” Beau sighs through her glare, then raises his eyebrows at me. “Are you ready to leave?” He looks worse than he did when he was dead. Victor didn’t only trick Viola. He tricked Beau, too, and knowing my brother, he won’t rest until he somehow makes it up to her.