“Nyx, this is Luther Falke. He’s my teaching assistant, and he’s going to evaluate you so I know where to start you. He’ll take you through some drills today.” Carrick turns to Luther with a nod and walks off without a single fuck that Luther looks like he’d prefer if I’d keeled over right here.
Luther crosses his massive arms over his equally massive chest and stares me down, picking me apart, cataloging all my faults. I feel more exposed under his gaze than I did under Maeve’s—where she saw potential, he sees every flaw.
He clenches his jaw and drops his arms to his side. “Follow me,” he orders in a deep, rough voice, directing me to a secluded corner with piles of thick foam mats. “What do you already know?”
“You’re gonna have to be more specific.” I quip.
He ignores me and starts rearranging the mats around us. “Do you know anything about martial arts, grappling, or boxing?”
“Nope.”
His scowl returns. “Do you know any self-defense?”
“Enough to get me out of a tight spot,” I answer, but he raises an eyebrow expectantly. “I’m pretty good with a baseball bat and a pocket knife, but that’s about it.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers and sighs. “That’s it.” A statement laced with disdain, not a question. As intimidating as he is, I can’t help but bristle at his dismissal. I’m not an expert, obviously, but I know enough to keep myself safe around belligerent drunks and handsy high schoolers.
“I can take care of myself,” I insist, matching his scowl.
“You’d tap out to the worst student in this class in under a minute.” He lifts an enormous mat out of the way and I catch myself appreciating the wall of muscle in front of me before he turns around and I flick my eyes back up.
“Stand here.” He gestures, and then proceeds to wipe the floor with me for an hour and a half, until my chest heaves as I fight for oxygen and pray for death to take me. With each exercise I barely complete, the disdain on his face only grows. By the end of this torture session disguised as an education, I’m weighing the pros and cons of taking my stipend and running off into the sunset. Then he utters the three most perfect words in existence.
“I’m calling it,” he grumbles and stands after putting me on my back yet again, barely having broken a sweat. Under different circumstances, having his massive, warm, calloused hands running across my skin, his body behind mine, pinning my arms down would have been my idea of a good fucking time, but after this I doubt my body will ever move correctly again.
“Say it isn’t so,” I wheeze, and he rolls his eyes, walking away without another word to report back how pathetically inept I am, no doubt. Not that I have the brain capacity to do anything more than shower and change. He’d probably hate knowing that he’s actually done me a favor and kept me busy long enough that I missed fighting for privacy as everyone else showered, too.
When I limp into Professor Brandt’s office looking like a drowned rat, the Santa lookalike smiles broadly and gestures past wall to wall built-ins for me to sit in a cushioned leatherchair towards the back of the room, situated in front of the low fire.
“Ah, I remember those days. I won’t bother lying to you with empty platitudes about how it’ll get easier. Half a century later, I still despise every moment of physical training they put us through.”
“Then why the fuck do they make us do it?” He chuckles, and the lingering tightness in my chest from today subtly unclenches. The steaming tea he hands me a moment later helps, too.
“Drink that. It’ll take the edge off so we can have a productive conversation. And there are several very good reasons, I’m afraid,” he begins, adding another log to the fire. “For starters, being physically capable is just as important as being mentally capable when it comes to wielding our magic. Then there’s the Crypteia at the end of the school year, which I’ll tell you more about later. I don’t want to worry you unnecessarily,” he finishes with a wink, which immediately worries me, as he sits in the opposite chair.
“For now, since I know you’ll be wanting to return to your dorm and recover, I’m happy to answer any burning questions you may have and release you early with a list of reading I’d like you to complete before our next meeting.” He steeples his hands and looks at me expectantly.
“I don't know where to start,” I say honestly after a moment. His gaze goes from playful to empathetic, and suddenly the weight of these last few days—not even a week since my life was upended—feels suffocating.
“I’ve been teaching for a long time, Ms. Byrke?—”
“You can call me Nyx,” I surprise myself by saying, and feel a sudden rush of grief when I realize how long it’s been since I’ve heard Eileen’s raspy voice call out “Nyxie” over the din of Daly’s.
He nods and continues. “—but there will come a day, and I believe that day will arrive sooner rather than later for you, where the hurdles that you trip and stumble over today will become mere steps in the path you’ve climbed as you mount the insurmountable. Your presence here, despite your humble beginnings, demonstrates more courage and fortitude than some ever achieve. Who cares if you don’t know the difference between a summoning sigil and a portal sigil right now? You’ll learn. Whatever purpose Fate has woven into the stars for you, you already have the tools you need.” He taps his fingers to his temple. “Everything else is simply nice to have.” After a pause, he continues with a rueful smile. “Although, there is something to be said for everyone being forced to call you “Grandmaster” once you get to my age.”
And at that, I actually laugh. It’s freeing, that foreign sound, and for the first time in a week I feel safe here in this small, cluttered office, surrounded by centuries of knowledge hidden within tattered books, lovingly preserved. I’m sure he could demand any office he wanted, if the deference that the headmaster paid him is any indication, but that he chooses to remain in this small, intimate space that radiates warmth, literally and figuratively, makes me feel at ease in a way that I can’t remember ever feeling.
“I’ll email you the reading list and assignments for next week, Nyx. Feel free to reach out if you have any questions between now and then.” He gets up and I watch as he opens a writing cabinet off to the side, handing me a small tin. “Take some more tea with you. Tomorrow will be worse, I’m afraid.” I take it gratefully and stuff it into my backpack. My bones creak in protest when I stand.
“Thanks for this.” I nod, and he gives me another kind smile before walking me to the door and wishing me a goodnight. When I finally manage to hobble my way to the front steps of theAdmin building, my lungs sting with the crisp evening air and watch the last rays of light from the dying sun as it falls below the horizon. According to the campus map, there’s a lookout towards the cliffs not far from the Temple, and I make a mental note to watch the sunset as it sinks into the sea from the edge of the world, instead of from the dirty window of my dorm.
That night, I don’t stay up reading. I dream of being held against a warm chest, strong arms banded around my cool, salt-kissed skin as darkness descends and envelopes my mind.
11
RAMSEY
We were destined to rule, Ramsey. When the Fae ceded their Fate-given right to reign over the earth, it became our duty to bear the crown and lead the way through the darkness of the unknown. Let the demons have their Hell and the angels their Heaven—the dragons shall forever rule the skies.
