Virginia Kantra - Forgotten Sea

“He’s not, he. ”

Simon stooped, his back to her. She felt a change like a drop in temperature or a shift in the atmosphere, and Justin slumped.

Simon cradled his head before it hit the ground.

Her heart rol ed over in her chest. “What did you do?”

she whispered.

Simon glanced over his shoulder, brows raised.

Oh, right, like she wouldn’t recognize his magic whammy.

But maybe she wouldn’t have a day ago. Or even an hour ago. Maybe the spel she had worked on Justin had made her more sensitive. Or maybe it was his kiss.

“I relieved his pain,” Simon said.

“You knocked him out.”

Simon shrugged. “He wil be easier to move this way.”

He was the headmaster. She trusted him. She did.

She watched as he brought his cupped hands to his mouth and blew softly. Mage fire kindled in his palms, a globe of silver light, cool and unconsuming. He released it to float above his head, tethering the light with a word.

Simple magic. She could do it herself, most of the time.

But Simon Axton had other magic, other powers, painstakingly accumulated or recal ed over the years of his very long life.

He raised his arms in command and Justin’s body levitated, hovering over the cel ar threshold.

In silence, Simon waded into the shadow of the stairwel, nudging Justin ahead of him like a man on a raft. The mage fire fol owed. Lara watched, anxious and uneasy, as the stone wal s swal owed the descending light.

“Where are you. Aren’t you taking him back to the infirmary?”

“He’l be safe here.” Simon’s reply was muffled by the ground. “Quiet.”

Quiet, yeah. Like a grave is quiet.

She scrambled through the canted door, ducking her head to avoid the rough-timbered ceiling. There was a nasty moment going down the steps when she thought about snakes and spiders and things that lived in holes underground. But then the passage opened into a smal room, cool and musty, with shelves along one wal and a couple of bunks on the other.

Simon was already lowering Justin’s body onto the bottom bunk. But she had time to notice — just before his head hit the pil ow — that it was already dented. His shoes were under the bed.

She sucked in her breath.

Simon turned at the sound.

Their eyes met.

He must have seen her working things out. The bed. The shoes. The heth. The knife. And Justin, sprawled across the threshold to the cel ar, half in, half out.

She wet her lips. “He didn’t walk out of the infirmary.”

Not on his own. They’d brought him here, Zayin or Simon.

She saw that now. He must have woken alone, in pain, in the dark. No wonder he’d tried to escape.

And she’d dragged him back like a barn cat with a bloody mouse and deposited him at the headmaster’s feet.

“How,” Simon asked softly, “did you discover he was gone?”

Her mind stuttered. She raised her chin, forcing herself to hold his gaze. “I couldn’t sleep.” He would know why, he’d found her, he knew everything about her. “So I decided to check on him.”

“Your sympathy does you credit.” A pause, while they both looked down at the man on the bed. “Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of your judgment.”

Pain squeezed her head. She could not think. She could not breathe. “He shouldn’t have been left by himself.”

Simon’s lips thinned. “Apparently not.”

“I found him,” she said. “I can stay with him. Let me help, we have a connection, I—”

“Your connection is your problem. You are too close to this matter to see clearly where your responsibility and your loyalty should lie. Perhaps you need to take some time for reflection.”

“I know you’re disappointed in my performance as Seeker,”

she said through stiff lips. “But please, I have the cal ing. If you give me another chance. ”

“Seeking is a gift,” Simon said. “Even if I wanted to, I could not deprive you of your vocation.”

She exhaled in relief. “Then—”

“However, I can and wil determine your other duties at Rockhaven.”

Her other duties?

She worked for him. In his office.

Adult nephilim remained in the community, under the Rule that governed every aspect of their lives, that brought them closer to their un-Fal en perfection, that unified and defined them. The younger ones lived in the dorms as proctors. A few qualified as teachers at the school. Most graduates, however, went to work in the settlement’s glassworks factory. Rockhaven Glass had been in operation for a hundred and thirty years, providing exquisite stained and textured art glass for designers al over the world and a steady income for the nephilim.

Lacking any other skil s, Lara had expected to put her business education to work in the distribution center. But Simon had found a place for her in his own office. She’d always liked to imagine that the headmaster took a special interest in her, in her future.

“I can look after him and stil do my job.”

“You are mistaken,” Simon said with icy calm. “From now on, you cannot see him, cannot speak to him, cannot visit him, is that clear?”

A direct order this time, Lara thought dul y. He was taking no chances on her disobeying him again.

“Until I can trust your judgment, you cannot work for me,”

Simon continued. “Tomorrow morning, report to the raptor house. For the time being, you may assist Keeper Moon.”

Crazy Moon, the mews mistress, who preferred her injured birds to people.

Lara’s hands shook. Her throat constricted. “You’re banishing me to the birdcages?”

“By your own actions, you have endangered the community we are sworn to preserve. You leave me no choice.”

“But I’m wasted in the mews. At least. ” She floundered for a compromise that would leave her pride intact.

“Send me to the glassworks.”

“You are not an artist.”

“No,” Lara admitted. Maybe once she’d dreamed. But she wasn’t Gifted like the rest of her kind with an artist’s creativity. She couldn’t sing or play, spin or weave, paint or draw. She had a head for figures and a knack for organization. That was al.

“Your chemistry marks were never high enough to consider you for the lab side,” Simon continued with dispassionate brutality. “You have neither the strength nor the training that might qualify you for the furnace.”

His assessment was no more than she expected. Maybe what she deserved. But she winced, al the same.

“I can stil answer phones. Track orders. I’ve got computer skil s. ”

“I think. Something quieter. More contemplative,”

Simon said. “The Rule cal s us to self-knowledge and obedience. You have proven yourself sadly lacking in both.

This is an opportunity for you to reflect on your true place in the community.”

Her true place? she wondered bitterly. Reporting to Misfit Moon? Cleaning up bird shit?

Her eyes stung. Her heart burned. Al the reflection in the world wouldn’t make her see this as an opportunity.

This was punishment.

She blinked, her gaze flitting to the bed. The worst part was, she wasn’t the only one suffering for her insubordination. Justin was being punished, too.

The chil, smal room pressed in on them. She and Simon stood face-to-face, toe-to-toe, like fighters, like lovers. She raised her chin again, a gesture of defiance. She had never defied him before.

Another first, she thought, trembling with exhaustion and daring. It was a night for them.

“Can I at least say good-bye?”

Simon’s eyes flickered. “He won’t hear you.”

“Then it shouldn’t matter to you. But it does to me.”

His face was cool and impervious as marble. “As you wish.”