He stepped towards her and Maeve panicked to hear his response. She pulled on that invisible doorway into Harriet’s mind, flinging herself out.
Intoxicated laughter filled her ears. The warm firelight of her common room shook into vision.
She had jumped from Harriet’s memory to Mal’s mind. And when he realized she was there, he attempted to block his mind from her. Successfully.
Harriet was sipping another full drink with a smile. She had not the faintest clue Maeve had just watched Mal reject her.
“Did you hear me?” Lavinia’s voice filled her ears.
Maeve shook her head, shaking off the lingering feeling of Mal’s presence.
“Sorry, what?” Asked Maeve.
“A book club,” said Lavinia. “And we have room for one more. Thought it’s not your kind of books. But I know if you gave them a chance you’d love them.”
Maeve tore her eyes away from Harriet and looked at Lavinia. Lavinia followed her gaze to Harriet.
“You threatened, Sinclair?” Asked Lavinia playfully.
He had stopped. He pushed Harriet away. While Maeve refused to acknowledge why this brought her joy, she allowed herself to relish it all the same.
“I’ve never been less threatened actually,” said Maeve cooly. “When does this book club meet?”
They didn’t speak of it, what she did that night. Mal didn’t question or berate her, and he paid no attention to Harriet Simms as they passed her and her fencing friends in the corridor.
Maeve jumped through minds, on willing subjects, three more times in the coming weeks. Mal used their training to strengthen all her magic, and their tutoring lessons to expand both their Magical knowledge. Other than their Paragaon duties, which Abraxas still affectionately called glorified hall monitor responsibilities, they spent all of their free time immersing themselves in Magic.
Mal was as insatiable as she was.
On Thursday evenings, she studied alone when Mal was with his closest Serpentine boys and head of Serpentine Court, Pofessor Hummingdoor. They had formed their own exclusive “gentlemen’s only” club as Abraxas called it.
Maeve had rolled her eyes. It was really “Serpentine only” if they were honest.
After a week of intense classes and a draining Defensive Magic Examination, Maeve was seated in her favorite corner of the Library, tucked away from the rest of the castle. She was attempting to get as much work done as possible before the weekend because she promised Abraxas she would attend the Harpastum match between Serpentine and Draconem. Antony had been unbeatable, a top player on Serpentine’s team.
The game was brutal and bloody without Magic, and with it it was even more dangerous. The only rules in Magical Sports were about fatally wounding someone. Everything else was fair game. Antony had learned to Obscure at a young age, making him an excellent player being able to disappear and reappear on the field.
She heard footsteps making their way towards her.
“Abraxas told an interesting story last night,” said Mal, with a hint of mischief in his voice.
Maeve didn’t look up from her essay as he sat down. “Abraxas exaggerates.”
Mal pulled up a chair across from her.
“He said that when you were eleven, the summer before primary school started, that you-”
Maeve interrupted him. “So what if that’s true? Don’t act like you haven’t gotten away with plenty.”
“Is that so?” Asked Mal with a conceited smirk.
“Certainly,” said Maeve. “For example, you should have been expelled last year.”
Mal leaned back in his chair, smiling. But Maeve noticed a sharp look in his eye as he watched her carefully. His speech was calculated.
He waved his right hand, flicking it out an opaque burst of magic that encapsulated them. Blocking in all sound.
“Explain,” said Mal.
