All the bravado Marvel felt facing Echo, Caspian, and Baylin evaporated. He could only stare at the Grandmaster, unable to think, move, or speak. His mind kept replaying the moment Darius had killed him. All that power. What was Marvel to him?
The answer was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Darius could kill him again, just like that, and even Baylin wouldn't be able to do anything about it.
Darius loomed over him. "How did you get—"
"That's enough, Darius," said Baylin, rising to her feet. Small and skinny, with a half-smile on her lips, she didn't look like someone who should be able tell Darius to shut up. But for some reason, he listened to her. "He called out to me after being thrown out of a window, and I summoned him here to save him."
Darius frowned. "Am I to believe you've suddenly taken an interest in the boy's well-being after abandoning him to our mercy last time?"
"Yes, yes," Baylin replied impatiently, waving her hand. "I grew a heart. It's almost unbelievable. What were you saying about an attack?"
"It happened in the courtyard," Darius said. "An Apprentice-level teacher was disciplining one of her Novice students—"
"Disciplining?" Marvel blurted, his nails biting into his palms. "She nearly killed me."
Darius didn't appreciate the interruption. "That is a serious accusation to make against a mage, Marvel Satis. Every mage over Novice level takes an oath never to harm those beneath them without cause. You must have provoked her."
I existed, Marvel wanted to snap, but he knew it would be pointless.
"Honoured One," he said instead, "your servant would not make such a grave accusation without cause. Apprentice Echo stole the will of myself and my classmates and forced me to jump out of the window."
Darius considered Marvel for a few tense seconds. Marvel's heart pounded as he waited in silence.
"Your accusation has been noted," Darius finally said. "If this report is confirmed by your classmates, Apprentice Echo will be disciplined. If not, then know the grave mistake you've made by accusing an innocent mage."
Marvel didn't dare hope Echo would face consequences. He nodded and kept his mouth shut.
"And as for you," Darius said, standing over Marvel, his towering presence causing Marvel to stumble back a few steps.
The memory of the day Darius had killed him looped in his mind. Marvel's spine went rigid with fear.
"Get out of here, Marvel," Baylin said, conjuring a shimmering door out of thin air behind him. "Your betters need to discuss things far beyond your understanding." When Marvel hesitated, she waved him off. "Go on. Shoo."
Marvel didn't wait another second. He backed into the door, ducking his head with all the reverence he could summon before fleeing the room as quickly as possible.
On the other side of the door was his room. The familiar surroundings calmed his pounding heart. His knees gave out, and he collapsed onto the floor.
Pressing his forehead against the rough wood, he released a grateful breath.
I'm alive. Against all odds, I'm still alive.
But if he kept this up, how much longer would he stay that way?
---
It was probably a bad idea to visit Aisling so soon after their fight, but Marvel figured it paled in comparison to every stupid decision he'd made since coming back to life.
Might as well, he thought. There were only four days left until his duel with Caspian Griffith, and he was nowhere near prepared. He assumed classes would be cancelled for the rest of the day, given Echo's nonsense. And even if they weren't, he wasn't in the mood to be in the same room as the insane woman who had tried to kill him a few hours ago.
By midafternoon, he convinced himself Darius wasn't going to show up to kill him and got off the floor. Fear had given him an appetite; he hadn't been eating much the past few days, obsessed as he was with his newfound powers.
Aisling probably hadn't eaten yet if she was on the afternoon shift. So, bearing a bread and cheese offering after a quick trip to the market, Marvel made his way to the Healer's Section. His head felt too full: thoughts of his upcoming duel clashed with his fear of the Grandmasters and uncertainty about working with Baylin.
He chewed over what Baylin had said about a mage being unable to help him hide the true nature of his athar. She was probably right. Kathar spells were visible to anyone over Novice level, and a complicated spell like that would definitely draw suspicion.
What he needed was a spell that would be hidden as well—something without magical energy to draw attention. Like, for example, human athar. The kind of magic Enchanters, Sorcerers, and Witches used. It passed unnoticed by most mages since they had no regard for what they considered barely magic.
Marvel needed an Enchanter. Someone who could fit a powerful spell into an ordinary object. The problem was: he didn't know any magic users who weren't mages.
But Aisling definitely did.
That was only part of the reason he was seeking her out. He also wanted to patch things up between them. At least, that's what he told himself.
The Section was quieter than the last time he'd woken up there. A few Healers bustled about from patient to patient, ever busy. He spotted Aisling immediately, tending to an elderly mage, and headed for her.
Any hope that she might have softened toward him shrank at the dark look she gave him.
Her jaw tightened, but at least she didn't outright ignore him. Instead, her forehead wrinkled with something close to worry.
"One moment," she said, turning back to her patient.
Marvel watched a bright, clean orb appear above her hand. She spread it until it was flat as a blanket before pressing it into the elderly mage's chest. Instantly, the man's grey hair began to darken, wrinkles becoming smooth. A few seconds more, and he looked only a few years older than Marvel.
Aisling said something to the patient, giving him that sunny smile of hers. Then she excused herself and walked over to Marvel.
"Nice work," he said, a little envious.
"It was a simple reversal spell," she said dismissively.
A simple spell, she said. As if Marvel could do any spell without his athar endangering his life one way or the other.
"Still," he said, stamping out his jealousy. "It looked amazing from where I stood."
Her face loosened at his compliment. "I've been working on it for a while. Thought I might use it as a demonstration for my Ascendancy Tests."
Marvel raised his eyebrows. "You think you might ascend this year?"
Aisling barked a bitter laugh. "My Master assures me I'm not going to be ready for that in the next few decades. But I still have to try."
Marvel felt a pinch of sympathy for her. She hadn't always ascended mage ranks easily. It had taken her thirty-six difficult years to become an Apprentice in the first place. He'd sat with her as she cried the last eight years after being refused Ascendancy to Adept level by her master for not being powerful enough.
"Who's to say he's right?" Marvel asked, squeezing her shoulder. "You know you can never predict things like that."
"Except when they're as untalented as I am," Aisling said. Before Marvel could think of something comforting, she shook her head. "Don't pity me, Marv. Not after you've been jumping out of windows from the Novice ludus." She smacked his shoulder. "What were you thinking? You could have died! How did you even—"
Marvel startled. "That's not what happened!"
Aisling's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Then what did happen?"
He knew his friend. She would definitely attempt to kill Echo. As much as he admired Aisling's skills at healing, he also knew she was no match for Echo. Being thrown out of a window this afternoon had opened his eyes to the fact that Echo was a sadist who liked nothing more than to hurt people.
"Er." Marvel held up the food he'd brought. "I brought lunch. When does your shift end?"
Fortunately, she seemed to let it go. "In about an hour. But I can't sit down for lunch; I have deliveries to make."
Marvel plastered on a smile. "I'll come with you then."
Aisling considered him for a few moments. She sighed, shook her head. "Okay. Fine. Wait here."
He couldn't believe he'd been let off so easily, but he wasn't about to complain that his luck finally seemed to be looking up.
"One question, though," she said, fixing him with a look he'd never seen her direct at him before: distrust. "You didn't see it?"
Marvel frowned. "See what?"
"A lot of Magi said they felt—" Casting a nervous look around the room, she lowered her voice— "Fusion magic being used when you fell. Apparently, there might be a warlock on Academy grounds."
Cold filled Marvel's gut. He hadn't thought of it back in Baylin's library, but the warlock sighting Darius had spoken of had to be him. What were the odds of another warlock in the Academy?
He was pretty sure he would have sensed Fusion magic being used, at least.
What if they find out it's me?
"Marvel?"
The smile on his face felt false, but he hoped she was buying it. Wrong call, he realised, as Aisling's freckled nose wrinkled in suspicion.
"I was too terrified to notice if there was," he said evenly. "I mean, I was literally falling to my death at the time, so—"
Her mouth tightened.
Circle back, Marvel. "I, um, no. No, I didn't see or sense anything. You know how weak my centre is anyway."
That seemed to be enough to fill her face with that familiar concern for him she always had. "I know being a Mage is all you've ever wanted, Marvel, but you've nearly died twice in so many days because of it. You have to be more careful. Please."
"I will," he promised. He was certainly going to try. "I swear it."
She sighed. "Alright, then. I'll go get the deliveries and be back in a moment, okay?"
Marvel watched her walk away as he suddenly thought of something. "Hey, who are we delivering potions to, anyway?"
"Some sick townspeople, a couple of innkeepers," Aisling said, pausing before adding, "Grimm Boll." She searched his face for a reaction.
"Oh." A jolt of understanding passed through Marvel. "Oh. That's— I'm alright with that."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. It's fine. Really." At her uncertain look, he repeated, "Really."
She frowned but nodded. "Alright then. I'll just… get my things."
Marvel couldn't keep the grimace off his face once she turned her back. Still, as much as he didn't like it, visiting Grimm Boll was exactly the opportunity he needed. The man was an Enchanter, and while not the first person he would have thought of, he couldn't deny it was a better idea than he would have had.
At least nobody will question why I'm seeing him, he decided. I always visit Grimm Boll when I make deliveries with Aisling anyway.
Maybe his luck really was looking up.
I'd really rather just be friends, Marvel… There's someone else…
He just wished it didn't have to feel so bittersweet.