You’re better than that, Ari. You could be so much more than a mindless soldier.Saleen’s always been infuriatingly judgemental for someone whose parents have been trackers for over thirty years. Though the only thing that matters right now is that she’s also a Red.
Control magic.
The ability to glamour and compel.
Bend others to her will.
“Sheis here to help save you from yourself,” Akari says, dropping her voice low. Even if the two of them weren’t fresh off the heels of a very public break-up, she’d still know better than to tell anyone what I’m planning, and Saleen doesn’t need all the gory details to stop me casting an illicit spell. Unlike premonition, compulsion is far less specific, and Saleen is one of the Academy’s most promising Reds. Or at least, she would be, if she weren’t so intent on wasting her potential. You can add that to the list of things that annoy meabout Saleen: she has all the skill and aptitude I’m missing but none of the drive or will.
“She isnotcompelling me,” I hiss, though there’d be little I could do to stop her if she did. That’s what makes Red magic so terrifying: there’s no shielding yourself from it, you can only fight the effects once you’re in their grip, and even then, it’s damn near impossible. My only saving grace is that not even a vindictive viper like Saleen would go so far as to do it without permission. To a typic, sure—for enough coin, certain types of compulsion are freely available to purchase. But not to another Shade. Never to another Shade. If she does that, she won’t just be expelled from the Academy, she’d be hauled in front of the Council she so reviles, forced to either bind her magic or turn rogue and live on the run. And there’s no way she’d risk that just to do her ex-girlfriend a favor. Not even Saleen is that reckless.
“Then I’ll take the three silvers I was promised and be on my way,” she says, idly picking at her nails. “Whatever spat you two have going is your business.”
By my colors. “You’re paying her to do this?” I fix Akari my most dangerous look.
“No, I’m paying her toforgetshe did this. And if you aren’t planning to do anything stupid, then why does it matter how I spend my coin?”
It matters because she doesn’t have the coin to spend, so the last thing I want is for her to spend it on me. On my bad idea. Akari doesn’t come from a wealthy family like I do; she lost her parents when she was young, wound up in one of the Council’s care homes. Everything she has she makes by siphoning her magic into pre-made charms and selling them in the city, and that’s not exactly a legal endeavor at our age, so money is always tight. But since I recognize the stubborn set of her shoulders and the way her eyes are blazing with an angry flame, I doubt there’s anything I could say, in this moment, to change her mind. And while I know that she’d never force a compulsion spell on me, I also know that she won’t be letting me out of her sight again without it, not now that she’s confirmed that I do, in fact, mean to cast the open question. Which only leavesme with one option: let Saleen do her worst. That way, Akari won’t realize just how desperate I am.
Desperate enough to remember that she’s not the only one with a useful ex.
“Fine. Let’s just get this over with,” I grit through my teeth, steeling myself for the suffocating weight of the spell. This won’t be the first time a Red messes with my mind; this past year, I’ve trained with enough of them to grow painfully familiar with the sensation. The helpless loss of control. But at the end of each class, those spells were promptly lifted, whereas this one will be built to last. To stifle my ability.
“You will not do . . . whatever stupid thing Akari doesn’t want you to do.” Saleen complies with a lazy flick of her wrist. Hardly the most elegant of phrasing, but compulsion feeds on brute force rather than clever wording, and she’s always enjoyed inflicting her will on others, so the power drips effortlessly off her tongue. I don’t just hear the magic in her command, Ifeelit, like a chain of iron coiling tight around my intent, smothering the impulse. Between one moment and the next, the very idea of an open question becomes as heavy as the ocean, an unyielding pressure that’s pressing harder, and harder, and hard. Even just thinking around it in the abstract quickens my pulse as though I’ve run the castle from tower to jail.
“You sure that’s going to hold?” Akari glowers at Saleen’s lack of effort, as though she’s suddenly remembered how irritating her ex’s worst qualities can get.
“Have I ever cast a spell that didn’t?” Saleen holds her hand out for Akari to grace with silver. “The compulsion should be good for about a week—after that, either find some more coin or tell your Indigo to find some sense,” she says. Then before I can think up a suitably scathing reply, she shimmers out the door.
“I can’t believe she charged you as much as a typic.” I mutter a belated curse at her back.
“Oh please, you absolutelycanbelieve it.” Akari rolls her eyes, folding down to sit among the cushions lining the tower floor. “And you owe me three silvers, by the way, for keeping you out of trouble.”
“I will give you three silvers—but you’ll have to think of a different reason for why, because I am not paying for the pleasure of being compelled.” I stretch out beside her. “And just for the record, I would have never gone through with it.”
“Yes, you would have,” Akari says.
Because yes, I would have.
Because we both know how fast the threat of binding has been tightening around my neck.
And because as much as Akari has been trying to hide her worry, I’ve noticed her smile slip a little bit further every time I fail. She claims our friendship would survive the loss of my magic, but that’s a very big promise for any Shade to make, never mind a would-be tracker. Come graduation, she’ll be joining the Council’s elite band of soldiers, a guild filled with their strongest and brightest while I join the ranks of their worst.
Bound, disowned, dishonored and disgraced.
Unable to so much as phase into the Gray, let alone cast or wisp or shimmer.
And while Akari loves me enough to keep her promise, I love her enough to offer her a clean break. Not burden her with my presence.
“Which is supremely stupid since all you need to do is pass your trials,” she continues, pulling her legs flush with her chest. “Forget what anyone else thinks, forget who your parents are, and just . . . focus on that.”
That’s easy for you to say.I don’t lend voice to that less-than-fair remark. Akari’s magic has always come so naturally to her, as steady as her nerve and as effortless as breathing. She’s never had to work to wrestle it into submission, or watch her classmates flourish while she struggled to complete basic tests. The only futures I’ve ever been able to see with any certainty are too small to matter, like where I might find a book in the archives or a friend in the city, how long a bout of sickness will linger or what the cooks are making for lunch. Questions that only reveal an imminent, already decided path.
That won’t be enough to get me through my trials.
For that, I’ll have to accurately predict a more sprawling future—and Professor Lyons isn’t likely to accept anything short of perfection from the biggest disappointment in class.
Neither will my parents.
