“Where have you been?” Asked Maeve reproachfully.
Spinel chattered at her briefly before jumping on the bed. Maeve hadn’t seen him in quite a while.
“You look like you’ve had your fair share of food,” said Maeve, rubbing his fat stomach.
Spinel wasn’t listening and was already curled up asleep at the foot of her bed.
A green light suddenly emitted from her bag on the nightstand. She grabbed the small piece of parchment hastily as, letter by letter, a message from Mal appeared.
Well done. You made me proud.
Something deep in her chest swelled.
Maeve grinned. She grabbed her quill as his words disappeared and wrote back.
All thanks to you.
Word spread quickly about how skilled of a duelist Maeve had become. And that she was performing at a Supreme level. Abraxas told her he heard two fellow third-years whispering about how she could probably move up to even beating Mal. They both got a laugh from this.
Grisham’s teeth were back to their appropriate size, but his hatred for Maeve, which was already evident, was only growing. Reiner Gupp, Serpentine Head Boy, found Grisham lurking about the fourth-floor corridor after hours. Reiner informed Maeve he could only assume Grisham was attempting to ambush Maeve during her Paragon duties on the fourth floor.
Mal’s jaw tightened when he heard this. Reiner assured Mal he was given detention and a stern talking to.
Abraxas was sorting through his stew in the Dining Hall next to Maeve. Mal was across the hall with Roswyn, Kash, Phineus, and Hendrix.
Abraxas wasn’t talking. Which meant he was thinking. Which meant at any moment-
“What’s going on between you and Mal?”
Maeve forgot how to chew and swallowed a whole slice of potato. She coughed loudly and grabbed her chest. “What?”
Abraxas let his spoon fall into his stew. “I’ve known every secret of yours since before we could talk. And now you’re going to start hiding from me?”
“There’s nothing,” she began to insist once more.
“He’s looking at you.”
Her head snapped up. But Abraxas was a dirty liar. And Mal was not so much as glancing her way. He was listening intently to Hendrix.
Abraxas grinned. “Nothing, cousin?”
Maeve exhaled, long and tight. “I’m in over my head aren’t I?”
Abraxas shook his head slowly and grinned. “You have no idea. Go on, ask me if he talks about you.”
Maeve pushed her plate away and swung her legs around the bench, leaving Abraxas without a word.
Final exams were just around the corner as the school year was coming to a close, and Maeve had never felt more confident in her abilities. She was performing at a Supreme level in all her Practical Magic courses, and Defensive Magic as well. Rowan spent the whole day lecturing on her latest essay on Experimental Charms. He was impressed to say the least.
In Alchemy, Abraxas slid across the desk from Mal and Maeve. Maeve watched as he made what looked like a shady exchange with a Volaticus boy.
The class paired off. The current assignment was brewing a poison and its antidote of their choice. Maeve was making the poison, and Mal was making the antidote. They had been brewing these particular potions for almost three weeks. It was a large percentage of their final grade.
Halfway through the brewing process, Abraxas turned to them both and said, “going to the Hapstrum matches tomorrow?”
“No,” said Maeve and Mal in synchronicity. Neither of them looked up from their work.
Maeve could feel Abraxas’ frown.
