She hauled Fox towards the mirror, where my portrait had once hung. And where Robin had been walled up alive.
Not again, not again, not…
I prowled towards her. "If you do this, I shall curse the academy and—"
Damelza pretended to yawn. "So much for your originality." She fiddled with the feather in her hair. "Don’t you remember that the first rule of this academy is that you can't fight the professors because of the charms we wear? But please do try, it'll be amusing for me, and a good lesson for you. The spell that is about to be performed is an ancient punishment for captured prisoners in our war with the mages: to be walled up alive in the walls of the castle. Quite effective."
My breaths came fast and short; my heartbeat raced.
This was going to happen...
"Well, let's get this done, I don't have all day." Damelza glanced at the smashed window, before calling, "Ezekiel!"
She wanted our Addict Angel Professor of Dueling and Strategy to witness this too? Would she call in each of our professors like this was a carnival?
Ezekiel swooped through the window. His beautiful purple wings glowed, and his matching violet eyes glowed. Yet even though he landed with a commanding thump, he immediately wrapped his wings around his bronzed chest. Ezekiel was powerful, and the dazed fear that he was attempting to hide, made me want to wrap my arms around him like he was one of my Immortals.
Plus, I adored his tangy citrus cream scent. I could lose myself in the safety of his wings.
Yet my magic smarted with the sense that he wasn't safe.
"You're late," Damelza snapped.
Ezekiel marched to stand next to the mirror. "It would never do to be late to my own execution."
Bask's horrified gasp was mirrored by my own.
"My guardian shall never accept this…brutality," Lysander's sharp voice cut through my own shock. "Professor Ezekiel has long proved his worth as a professor. He’s communicated with my uncle for many years—"
"Your uncle was eager that I make a statement to both professors and students that once a Rebel, always a Rebel,” Damelza snapped. Ezekiel's eyes closed, and he flinched. "Teaching posts are offered as a great honor to those who survive their time as students, but they’re also a privilege, which can be taken away. I must maintain standards. Ezekiel trained you as assassins, but you couldn’t even bring me back a single escaped beast! If a professor’s students fail, then they’re to blame. They must face the consequences."
"Like docked salary? Extra duties? A demotion?" I tilted my head. "How dreadfully stupid of me, of course execution is the obvious choice."
"Of course," Damelza replied, coolly. "Shall I add Professor Ambrose and that brat of his, who I know he's been allowing you to see, despite the fact that it’s breaking my rules?" My eyes widened. I remembered Ty playing in the snow and the fae professor singing songs to his son. Don't let them be hurt because of me. "There are some delightful witches who could take up their positions instead."
Juni's eyes flashed. "An Immortal is one thing, mother, but a Seelie fae Prince...? A child...? This is enough."
For the first time, Damelza shifted uncomfortably. "It appears that my daughter has spoken. I hope that this is a useful learning experience for you all. It's interesting how it's your own Blessedly Charmed magic that now works against you in this castle, while the wards stand. So, storm and tantrum as much as you like, your cold no longer has any bite."
"You're a warrior," Sleipnir hissed at Ezekiel, "kick her ass."
Ezekiel's lips pinched; his expression was tight. He raised his hand to show the same I branded on it as was on Sleipnir's.
"Should I let Ambrose or his son take my place?" Ezekiel demanded.
"That's the spirit." Damelza patted him on the shoulder.
Then the wall opened, yawning into darkness, and Damelza shoved Ezekiel inside.
It was happening all over again like it had with Robin.
Fox's anguished gaze met mine. "Breathe for me."
A single tear chased down his cheek, even as his lips curled into a smile.
"By the branches of the tree, save your children, blessed be," I whispered the incantation that my father, Bryon, had said all those years before (Hecate hear me).
Yet why did I feel like Byron hadn't been praying to Hecate at all?
I couldn't let this happen. Not again.
Hecate, don't take a second mage…another man who I loved…from me.
The howl rose from me like a ball of grief and loss loosed in primal rage. Panic flickered across Damelza's gaze, driving away the smugness. My black mists surged forward, at the same time as Bask, Sleipnir, and Lysander prowled towards Fox. But a pink fire blazed up, blasting to the ceiling with a sizzling roar.
Through the stinging smoke, I watched in terror as Damelza swung Fox around and hurled him into the blackness.
Lightheaded, my knees buckled, and I tumbled to my floor.
Please, no...
Then the gallery sealed, walling Fox up alive.
Chapter Six
FOX
The gallery wall closed, sealing me into the darkness behind, which pressed on me like a shroud.
Great Pan, don’t let me die like this.
Every night, after the Kitten Incident that’d shown my family in the House of Jewels I’d possessed magic, I’d feared that I’d die locked away in the attic. After my stunt at my sister’s garden birthday party, even my window had been boarded over.
Was dying within the castle walls because I was a mage any different?
Too dark, too dark, too…
I cringed back against the cold stone, struggling to drag in raspy breaths of the stale air, which stank of death.
I squeezed closed my eyes, clawing at my throat.
My lungs burned, and I choked, hyperventilating.
So much for being able to hold my breath for a really, really long time (okay, that’d been a lie; sue me).
I forced myself to count back from a hundred in my head to calm myself.
100, 99, 98…
In a pop of glitter, I transformed into a Birman cat with a crooked tail (because all the attitude was in the tail). I’d heard of being scared straight, but Damelza had scared me into a shifter.
There was a reason that Rebel Academy was considered the deadliest of the academies.
Witches were bitches.
After all, what was one more dead mage to a witch?
Yet Magenta loved me.
I meowed mournfully, curling into a fluffy ball and covering my head with my paws like if I couldn’t see the darkness, then I wouldn’t really have been walled up alive.
I could see others’ lies but I was even more skilled at lying to myself.
Then I grunted, as I was snatched by the scruff of my neck and cradled to Ezekiel’s chest. Did all angels have abs like this because okay, mine were like Zeus’…okay, Adonis’…okay some lesser demigods’, but Ezekiel’s were like sculptured stone.
I purred, snuggling closer.
The main thing that was different between the space in the walls and my attic was that this time, I wasn’t shut up alone. I should’ve felt guilty about that but knowing my slow death wouldn’t also be a lonely one pretty much meant that I didn’t.