Page 107 of Insolence
“Aren’t you going to have any?”
She wrinkles her nose at the berries. “No, thank you. Wine?” She grabs the bottle, uncorking it when I answer in the affirmative. “It has everything to do with your question. But there’s context your temple-approved curriculum hasn’t yet covered. Some of the things I’m about to share will come up soon. Some won’t. Either way, you’re getting ahead of your classmates today.”
With warmth seeping through my chest, I motion to the tin of hot food. “Split this with me?”
She opens it and starts divvying up the fried sausage. “You remember Maida saying the Ceremony of Induction is a form of Divination, right?”
“Mm-hmm. I also remember studying it for my exam. Sortilege, if I recall. The drawing of lots.” I flutter my lashes in a way that would make Sadrie proud—and promptly ignore the pang in my heart.
“Very good.” Elodie flashes a roguish grin.
Her approval sends lightning spiderwebbing through my nervous system. I watch her strong fingers work, cutting the stubborn sausage with nothing but a butter knife.
“And you know by now that mages, such as yourself, draw the white spheres.”
“Of course. And the betrothed drew the black ones.” I keep my eyes on those steady hands while they scoop portions of sausage and mashed potato onto each of our plates.
“Well, what you don’t yet know is the betrothed are actually another type of changeling entirely. One Maida and I aren’t exactly permitted to lecture about. Not that we let that stop us, in the long run.”
Another kind of changeling?My cup pauses on its way to my lips. “Why not?”
“Because. They aren’t actually human.”
“Excuse me?” I sputter, setting my wine back down. “What do you mean they aren’thuman?”
“I mean, they’re literally not human.” She takes a few more bites, lifting her shoulders infartoo calm of a shrug.
“Well? What are they?”
“Arcane beings. Preternatural, unearthly creatures wrought of chaos and magic.” Her gaze rests on me, weighty with expectation. “But you probably don’t remember the story of the Dead God Máiréad.”
“No.” Curiosity burning through me, I wait for more. But I’m clear-headed enough to realize I’m notonlybeing rewarded today.
No, this is also a further test. It seems to involve accepting what answers she’s willing to give without arguing.
Determined not to crumble under provocation, I clamp my mouth shut, smile, and wait. When she continues, it’s as if she hadn’t brought up thisDead Godbusiness at all.
“We call these creatures demuns—that’s with a U-N-S. And no, it’s not an accident the word is so close to demons with an O-N-S. It’s meant to be disparaging, but I think it’s actually a bit intimidating. Lethal.” She winks.
“Wait.” My forehead wrinkles. “But magesarehuman, right?”
“Right. And I can see I’ve gone and confused you already.” She twists around as if looking for something, then gets to her feet. “Truth be told, this part’s usually up to Maida and her trusty blackboard.”
Grabbing one of the long wooden dowels bundled in the corner—presumably meant as plant supports—she turns her attention to a disused flowerbed.
I watch, my thoughts swirling, as she traces the stick through the soil, rendering and labeling what looks like two overlapping circles.
Embodying every ounce of calm collectedness I can muster, I brush off my fingers and join her at the empty bed. “You teachers and your visual aids.”
After a moment of examining her rudimentary diagram, I say, “So mages are half-human and half-demun?”
“Not quite. Changelings are born at random. You can’t exactly breed us. It’s not a genetic trait, as far as we know. That said, mages are essentially halfway between natural humans and demuns in society’s eyes. We’re still biologically human. But we can also manipulate life-force, which sets us apart from natural humans. Because of that, when folks speak of changelings, they’re referring to demuns and mages both.”
“Ah,” I say, understanding dawning.
She scratches away her drawing in the soil before we resettle at the table.
“As you’ve likely noticed spending time around the betrothed, demuns are physically pretty much indistinguishable from natural humans and mages. A demun’s proclivities don’t manifest until her eighteenth birthday.”
