“Peter is not like the others.”
It’s not a compliment, responding is futile, but Veda can’t leave well enough alone. “Why are his parents not here having this discussion?”
“My son is new to fatherhood, having only discovered his existence a mere two months ago. As a mother, I am better suited to guide Antaris’s path.”
Is he a commodity or a child?
Veda notices Antaris’s pinched, wounded expression. “Have you had a tour of the grounds?”
This grabs his attention. His response is a quick shake of his head, but it’s Peter’s and Simran’s surprise that leaves her puzzled. “Peter, will you show him around?”
He’s already on his feet midway through her request, gesturing for Antaris to follow. The boy appears hesitant, but one stern look from his grandmother makes him comply. Once they’re out the door, Veda excuses herself and follows. Antaris is already out of sight, Peter several steps behind.
She sharply whispers his name. Peter turns. “What?”
“Is she paying full tuition?”
“She is, and has made a sizable donation.”
“Be that as it may, her being here is absolutelyinsane.” When he offers no explanation, she glares. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’ll tell you more when you check your judgment at the door.”
He’s gone before she can argue. Seething, Veda returns to find Simran sitting in Peter’s chair.
“Is there something wrong?” The tone implies she knows the answer. “Ordid you need a moment to fuss at Peter for not preparing you for our intrusion?”
The room feels smaller, congested. Veda takes the seat Antaris left. “I was letting him know who was at the barn to help with the tour.”
“Peter reminds me of myself,” Simran says. “He moves in silence, not letting one string know how it fits with the others until they are all entwined.”
ThatisPeter in a nutshell. Veda rests her hands on her lap. “What strings are we?”
“I do not know. My current concern is for my grandson. His mother recently passed on, as you probably know.”
“No, I didn’t.” Nausea rises with the guilt of judging her absence.
“Antaris has been in the country for less than two weeks, and we have much to do to acclimate him.”
“Where’s he from?”
“London,” Simran replies.
“That’s not the moon. It shouldn’t take much for him to—”
“Cosmos only knows what his Seer mother taught him before her death. Antaris was homeschooled and did not complete proper testing.We had a comprehensive Sight panel done yesterday, and blessedly, he tested at a zero.”
Stifling her growing anger is all Veda can do in the face of such bigotry. “Those tests are not accurate. Most Mages have the potential for Sight. How it manifests is a matter of genetics and chance.”
“The chance, according to the test, is zero.”
Veda smothers her original comment, amending it to something softer. “I’m struggling to see why it’s so dire that I take him on.”
“Antaris does not speak.”
Once again, Veda silently apologizes for assuming he was being spoken over. “Canhe speak?”
“He has not always been silent, according to his mother’s stepfather, who helped raise him.”
