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Chapter 12

No one bothered Gwen anymore.

Absolutely nobody. Drake didn’t try and play any pranks on her. Doramont still kept to himself, though there was no an almost malignant glare to his lack of interest. When she found out where Gwen was hiding out, Rosamund declared loudly that she would not be anywhere close to that thing, and promptly burned all the doors around Gwen’s with an x to mark it a danger zone.

The staff even kept their distance. They served Gwen when she showed up late to meals, and then returned to wherever they went. The young woman found herself as alone as when she first got there. And this time she felt like she had no one else to blame.

It must have been her fault, because not even Indearie would drop by. The usually bubbly friend was nowhere to be found. She was never in her room when Gwen snuck a peek, and the ballroom was somehow empty when she ran back to check. Somehow she had even made it impossible for the most cheerful person in the world to be in the same room as her.

Felton was no help. He was even harder to pin down than her…friend. And Duke Everwynn, Duke Everwynn still had not appeared from the tower.

Gwen, for her part, tried to maintain the new status quo. She changed up her meal schedule so that she was walking in after everyone had already left. Found new paths down to the library, and back out into the grounds. The roof helped a lot with the loneliness. Making it work, not actually trying to deal with it like a sane person might.

Because Gwen did feel like she was losing what little grip she had on sanity. Another week of self-induced solitude, and she didn’t feel like she was getting anywhere. The library was now clean, and sorted into genres, non-fiction alphabetized by title, fiction by author. She had read fifteen books since she had arrived at Everwynn manse.

She understood political calculus of two centuries ago. She felt like she could properly pluck and broil a Cornish game hen with a sherry glaze. And these poetic ramblings of a man named Whitman made her want to scream.

No magic whatsoever. None. No closer to finding out what Deveren wanted with her, or Everwynn, or anyone else. While everyone else was ready to set the world on fire, and build up a plant utopia from the ashes giggling, she was just there, reading, and thinking.

Gwen put up her book. She stood on top of the roof, looking out. The sun was setting anyways, soon it would be impossible to read.

She looked to North Wing. Everyone else would be going into dinner. Drake would jump in first, diving through a window. She could see his tuft of shock hair walking up against the building now. Full of jokes and laughter, and not caring a lick that she wasn’t there.

And still, he would be greeted by Felton. Because even though he cared for the duke, Felton was supposed to greet the children. It was a butler’s duty, and he did it well. He would eat quickly, but politely, excuse himself after a set of instructions, and then back to the tower he’d go.

Doramont would be last. Stumbling in, hoarking down a slab of meat and fizzy drinks before turning and going back to the greenhouse.

And in the middle would be Rosamund and Indearie. Laughing, talking about the new magics they did. Indearie’s new composition, or Rosamund’s collection of stories. They’d sit right next to each other. Maybe even eat off of each other’s plate.

There was a wrenching in her heart. Something that made her both alive and anxious. Like she needed to declare something.

Do something.

She flung her arms out wide.

“I too am not a bit untamed!” Gwen screamed. “I too am untranslatable! I’m a petulant little gutter snipe from a city choking on its own corruptive largess!”

Tears streamed down her face. “I matter!”

She collapsed on the tiling. Her words flew into the air, and dissipated without a trace.

What was she doing wrong? What made her so absolutely worthless to the world at large?

“You matter?”

Gwen looked up. Drake sat in midair, eating an apple. He was just a few feet off of the edge of the roof.

Gwen wiped the tears from her eyes. “What?” she cleared her throat. “I mean, what do you want?”

“Of course you matter,” Drake said. “Who said you didn’t matter?”

“I didn’t say that,” Gwen said. She stood up, face scarlet in the fading sunlight.

“Yes, you did,” Drake said. “Is that what you think we think about you? That you don’t matter?”

“Look, I just need to get some food, and then back to the library,” Gwen said.

Drake smiled, and offered a hand. “I’ll get you to the kitchens.”

That was a bad idea. She needed to get off the roof, back to her place. Back to safety. But the rumbling in her stomach told her there were other things that she needed. Like the source of that smell of bacon and honey glaze.

She pointed at Drake. “You drop me, and I will make sure you wake up every morning in the middle of a rose bush.”

Drake laughed, but his grip was firm. She floated down beside him to the ground, lightly touching the grass before walking towards food.

Gwen kept quiet, nervous. Drake was watching her every step of the way. He wasn’t frowning, but he seemed curious, pensive. It was really creepy.

Gwen kept it to herself, though. There was a need for food, and then silence. If only he would stick to the script in her head.

“Why do you think we’re terrible?” Drake asked.

“What?”

“You’re always off by yourself. Always getting in fights. I just want to know why.”

“I don’t think you’re terrible…”

“Yes, you do. And hey, it’s fine.” Drake held up his hands defensively. “No need to explain why, or change your mind. This is Everwynn’s manse for gifted felons, not the happy-go-lucky farmville or whatever.”

“I swear, it’s not like that.” Gwen shook her head. “I’m just…”

“Seriously, you’re good!” Drake said, laughing. “And I’ve hazed you enough, I know that score. We’re hard to deal with. Doramont is standoffish, Felton’s a bore, I have too much charisma to handle, I understand!”

Gwen rolled her eyes, and said nothing.

“It’s all a learning experience,” Drake said. “We’re all here for a learning experience.”

He pushed Gwen a few feet forward. Her foot tramped through the grass, and got stuck.

Gwen turned around, suddenly nervous. Drake leaned against a nearby tree. Doramont was there already, eating a piece of chicken.

“Here’s a learning experience for you,” Drake said. “About how not okay it is to ever try and hurt one of Everwynn’s charges.”

Gwen looked from Drake to Doramont. The two boys didn’t look at each other, but the message was clear. It was time for payback for what she did to Rosamund. Surprised it took them a week. Then again, the guys hated each other.

She wrenched one foot loose, and then the next, leaping onto a gravel path. “What, you’re going to beat up on a poor girl with no magic?”

Drake nodded. “That’s exactly the plan.”

“Yup.”

“That’s sexist!”

“No, actually it’s female empowerment,” Doramont said.

Drake frowned. “Come again?”

“See, we are not taking her gender into account. She hurt one of our own, and regardless of orientation, we are going to beat her up. Everyone treated equally.”

“That’s not how that works,” Gwen said.

“Why?”

“Because I really don’t want to be beat up right now.”

“Then you shouldn’t have hurt Rosamund,” Doramont muttered. He tapped the wood next to him. The tree nodded, and uprooted itself. It stalked towards Gwen, branches outstretched.

Gwen turned and ran. She got five feet before she smacked face first into a force of hardened air.

“Nuh uh,” Drake said. “Doramont won the coin toss, he gets first swing. But you’re taking this.”

Gwen turned, and ran straight at the boys. Fine, talking and running didn’t help. That really left only one thing left. She let out a scream, startling both them and the tree, leaping towards Doramont.

Her fist caught him in the jaw, sending him sprawling. The tree backbranched her, sending her back to the turf. Grass reached out, trying to hold her down. She fought back, and tore the lawn up by the roots. Still it clung, angry.

Drake reached out, and kicked her. “Don’t!” he shouted. “Don’t hurt Doramont! Don’t hurt Rosamund!”

“Screw you!” she shouted. “Don’t hurt me!” She kicked him in the knee, sending the yellow-haired boy limping away.

He lashed out with magic, sending her sprawling to the ground.

“You don’t get to run around being a prick,” Drake muttered.

The tree slammed a root into the ground next to her.

“And you don’t get to terrorize us into submission,” Doramont said, still on the ground.

Gwen raised her arms, ready to strike. Drake snapped his fingers, and she was flung back to the turf. She tried to rise again, but felt bound.

“No more of that,” Drake breathed.

No magic. She didn’t have any magic. Hated just as much as she was useless.

The branch shivered, ready to strike.

“No!” Doramont shouted. “This is mine.” He jumped forward, arm raised.

“You’re going to pay!”

Gwen screamed in defiance. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t right.

“Stop it!” she shouted.

Gwen’s hands burst into flame. Doramont leaped backwards, eyes wide in terror. Gwen howled, the flames rushing out of her. It ate hungrily at Drake’s magic, and in seconds she was free.

She was doing it. She was doing magic. And she didn’t care. She stood on the lawns, flames engulfing her entire arms, howling to the rooftops.

“I can take you all on!” she screamed. “Who’s next?”

“That would be me.”

The three children turned. Deveren stood on the edge of the lawn. He looked on, unimpressed, flanked by a pair of guards.

Drake stepped forward.

“Deveren,” he sneered. “What do you want?”

The count pointed straight at Gwen.

“Her,” he said. “I demand that you arrest her and bring her into my custody.”

“For what?” Doramont said.

“The assassination of my father, Count Deveren,” the newly minted lord said. “I will have her hung for crimes against the nobility.”

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Dead by the Book

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I didn't ask for a destiny.

Especially one that says that I'm supposed to destroy every god in existence.

It made the name William Creed a curse. Made me turn tail and run from the only home I knew. Left my friend, my favorite ghost, and hoped that the gods would just forget about me.

But now I'm back. Chasing the one good paycheck I've seen in years. Chasing some kid who's in way over his head, searching for a book that could break reality.

I'll have to take on dragons, the undead, a whole cosmos of deities, and my own mother.

Welcome to God Street. Where miracles become realities.

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