Page 17 of A Door in the Dark
The fourth member of their occasional crew was Cora’s obnoxious opposite. Avy Williams came swaggering around the corner, trademark grin already stretching his wide face. His skin was bright and tan and always seemed to have a glow to it. In the sunlight it almost looked bronze. Ren knew the glimmer was partially from the oil he applied before wrestling matches. It was legal to slick the skin, which offered the slightest advantage when wrestling in the arena, even if Avy already possessed every advantage imaginable for a fight.
He was the youngest person ever to place in the Games. The performance had earned him a full scholarship to compete for Balmerick, which prided itself on dominating Kathor’s other universities in athletics and dueling. He wore the traditional buttoned cardigan that most of the athletes wore, with Balmerick’s symbolic towers stitched into the right breast pocket. She didn’t follow any of the sports very closely, but she knew Avy was undefeated this year. That was no surprise. Even a statue like Devlin looked like a toy soldier by comparison.
Before Avy became a famous wrestler, Ren had always thought of him as the younger and far less morally centered brother of Pree Williams, her first boyfriend. She had known Avy since they were little, and knew he was prone to mood swings. One moment laughing at a joke, the next ready to slam someone’s head into a wall. It was difficult to say if he preferred magical duels or fistfights more, as he got into plenty of both.
Balmerick tried to keep that side of their prized athlete hidden. Anything to avoid expelling him. It was hard to veil, though. His right eye had been destroyed by an illegal spell last year, which left him with a dark scar and a melted socket set in the middle of an otherwise boyish face.
“Ren Monroe. Tell me something I don’t know.”
He always said those words to her in the same singsong voice. She smiled back as he threw his hands on his hips and waited for her to spin out a new fact. It was a game they’d played over the years, and Ren always had a few hidden up her sleeve for the occasion.
“Did you know that the first vessel in recorded history was a nipple ring?”
Avy’s dark eyebrows soared. “No way.”
“A man named Pryor was using the ring for alternative activities when he realized the pain was channeling his magic into and through the metal. He started storing spells inside, mostly for the purpose of further enjoying those alternative activities.”
Avy grinned at that. “I’m surprised he told anyone.”
“He didn’t. The information died with him, and vessels were discovered about a decade later, but once the guiding theories were in place, a historian backtracked to other instances of channeled magic and discovered Pryor’s story written in a book for people who enjoyed…”
“Alternative activities.” Avy grinned again. “Maybe I should read more often.”
Ren smiled back. This was the point where their friendship always faltered. Avy did not care for the finer points of magic. He was not the kind of person who enjoyed in-depth discussions. And she didn’t care about his workout routines or the results of his latest city tournament. They shared a home neighborhood and all the memories that came with growing down in the Lower Quarter. Footraces through the canal district and sneaking pies from market stalls. Other than that, they had very little in common. So it was a surprise when he stepped closer, his voice kept deliberately low.
“Anyone you know get hurt?”
She shook her head. “No way to know, but I doubt it. My mother gave up going to teahouses years ago. She would have been at home. Asleep. You?”
“Pree sent a note. One of our cousins was in the wreckage. A few stitches, but nothing life-threatening. There’s one person who still might not make it.”
Ren frowned. “The article said recoveries were expected.”
“There was a lot that article didn’t say,” Avy replied coolly. “She was impaled by a piece of shrapnel. City’s best doctors are working on her, but it’s grim.”
She could only shake her head. When the silence stretched, Avy threw that big grin back on his face. Ren wasn’t sure if it was a sign that he possessed a rare ability to compartmentalize, or if it was a defense mechanism Balmerick had built into him. Smile long enough and all the injustice would feel like it weighed a little less.
“Catch you inside,” he said.
Ren’s eyes swept the quad for any sign of Timmons. This was about the time that they liked to enter the portal room together. It always helped to settle in early before using the waxways. Calm nerves meant smooth travel. She was starting to grow restless when two figures turned the corner. Ren’s breath caught. Theo Brood was walking toward her with Clyde Winters.
For a brief moment she thought Clyde had informed Theo of what had happened in Agora’s class. Maybe he’d interpreted her comments as the criticism she’d intended them to be. Theo was coming to confront her. Ren mentally fumbled for an explanation, but the two boys barely glanced at her. That anger flickered back to life inside of her. Here were two of the most influential scions in the school. The people she needed to impress if she ever wanted to achieve her true goals. Like Lucas Shiverian, they hadn’t even bothered to look in her direction.
Theo seemed properly hungover. His eyes sunken, his skin pale. He’d managed to comb his hair and straighten his tie and that was about it. Clyde, on the other hand, was lively and grinning.
“Can’t believe he confiscated all of them,” he was saying. “Brutal, man.”
Theo snorted. “The best part is I’m not even sure when he took them. How do you sneak out three chariots in the middle of the night? The old man is efficient, I’ll give him that much.”
“I’ve never… taken… before…” The wind whistled through gaps in the trees, stealing every other word Clyde spoke. “… know… it works?”
Theo shrugged. “You just light a candle.”
Ren’s stomach tightened. She watched as their feet carried them to the entrance of the waxway room. Her mind traced the possibilities, all the cause and effect. She linked what had happened the night before to what she’d just heard Theo say about missing chariots. There was only one person who’d dare to take something so valuable from a spoiled princeling like him. His own father.
And this was his punishment. Taking the Balmerick waxway portal home. The spoiled prat would learn his lesson by traveling with the school’s welfare students. Ren’s chest pumped. She idly pulled strands of grass from the mossy stones beside her and tucked the blades into a coat pocket. Her pulse was still running fast when Timmons finally arrived, breathless and disheveled. She’d abandoned her school jacket in favor of a white-and-gray-striped shirt with a dramatically large collar. There were clever brass buttons pinching both sleeves, and Timmons wore a slender brass necklace to match them. Disheveled, for her, simply meant that her shirttail had come untucked from her trousers as she crossed campus. Ren circled around to help her fix it.
“Sorry I’m late.”
