He didn’t usually try that without Voltaire, Maskey, and Panzen behind him. He could definitely hurt Mocking and Greythorne on his own, but that was hardly the point. He wasn’t allowed to fight students anymore, not since he got certified as an adult combatant. They might actually kick him out of school altogether if he did that, not to mention the shit they’d say if he did anything that brazen.
To say his father wouldn’t be impressed was more than a small understatement; he still hadn’t forgiven Caelum for what he’d done to get certified as an adult in the first place. Malefic would probably keep him out of school indefinitely if he got expelled, especially if the rumor mill started up all over again.
No, it was out of the question. His father would whip him down to the bone if he did anything that colossally stupid.
Alaric didn’t even answer at first.
He continued to watch Caelum closely, as if trying to discern the real meaning behind his threat, and not only out of fear. After a few more seconds, Greythorne got up from the mattress, and dug into the pocket of his cardigan.
He pulled out, of all things, a waxy packet filled with rounded, bright blue objects the rough shape of gumdrops. Alaric ripped open the packet while Caelum watched, and shook two of them out into his palm. He handed them to Caelum.
“Eat these,” Greythorne said seriously. “I get anxiety at night sometimes, and can’t sleep, so I take these. They work really well. They won’t knock you out, but they’ll calm you.”
Caelum slid his hand under the other boy’s, palm up. When Alaric dropped the objects into his hand, Caelum stared at them for a second. Then, with barely a thought, he tossed them into his mouth and chewed.
Heat slowly ran down his throat, thawing some of the ice that remained from the memory of the cold stone. His muscles began to unclench, even before he’d finished chewing the hard, sticky candies. The sound of screaming dimmed in the back of his mind.
The fear more slowly began to subside.
He blinked, relieved beyond words. “Can I have another?” he asked.
Alaric shook out two more.
Caelum threw those into his mouth, too. Chewed.
Gods. He wanted to kiss the other boy.
He could feel his fingers again. And his chest. He could breathe.
“Thanks,” he said.
When he glanced up, Alaric and Luc were having another of their silent conversations. Whatever they were arguing about, Alaric appeared to be winning. When Greythorne looked back at Caelum, Caelum saw the red prints of his own hand around the other boy’s throat, even in the candlelight.
“Sorry,” he muttered, swallowing the last of the medicine drops he’d been given. He motioned towards Alaric’s neck. “I didn’t mean that.” He glanced at Luc. “To answer your question from before, I didn’t do it on purpose. I guess I was pretty out of it.”
Alaric smiled. It was a shockingly warm and open smile.
“That’s all right,” Alaric grinned. “Especially now.”
Caelum looked between them warily.
He focused on Mocking first, then his friend, fighting uneasiness at how vulnerable Alaric Greythorne looked. His father would eat this young mage alive.
“Do I want to know what that means?” he asked.
“Yeah, does he?” Luc muttered, folding his arms.
“Oh, I’m definitely adopting him,” Alaric informed both of them. “He tried to kill me. I’m pretty sure that means we’ve a life bond between us now.”
Caelum winced, but Greythorne only beamed.
“We’refriendsnow, the three of us. Friends for life.”
Luc snorted, like he couldn’t help it. “You’re both quite possibly mentally ill,” he said drily. “Maybe youshouldbe friends. Bloody maniacs, both of you. Am I just there to add a touch of sanity to the equation?”
“Oh, we’re going to begreatfriends,” Alaric declared with certainty. “And you’re with us, too, Mocking. Like it or not. You witnessed the whole thing, so you’re part of it.”
Luc snorted again, but his mouth and eyes showed him to be amused.
