Page 10 of Heir of Autumn
“This is, um, interesting decor,” I said, confused and unsure of what to make of it.
“Thank you,” Evander said. After a moment’s thought, he narrowed his eyes. “I think. Now, to what do I owe the displeasure of your visit?”
I winced at the echo. Dr. Euclidea Fang herself would often say that to students who bothered her in her office. Evander was trying to assert dominance, position himself as my superior, gain the upper hand. Bad enough that we were playing on his home turf. Truly an evil twink. An evil, conniving twink.
“You know what I’m here for,” I said. “We saw that book in the library before you did. I should have the water-breathing spell. You don’t need it. Hand it over, Evander. Don’t be such an asshole.”
He scoffed. “Well, if you were going to ask so nicely, I wouldn’t have any choice but to give it, wouldn’t I?” He crossed his arms. “Except you’re being a little bit of a B-hole yourself.”
I noted how he carefully avoided using the word “butt,” like he couldn’t bring himself to say something so crass and unlovely. In so many ways he really was my opposite, my rival. Yet what annoyed me even more was the realization that he probably didn’t even acknowledge me as a rival. We’d both earned our Summoner’s Crests, but he’d forever see me as beneath him. I took a long, slow breath and sighed.
“Come on, Evander. We really need to enter the Oriel of Water, and we need that spell to make it through safely. Headmaster Belladonna Praxis herself sent me on this mission, all for the Wispwell, to help with the Withering. Don’t you see how important that is?”
Evander pouted, then groaned. “Fine,” he said, extending the word into an impossible number of syllables. He waved his hand. Out of a different room came a cascade of fuchsia butterflies, carrying the blue tome among them.
My ears pricked up, my spine tingling with excitement and anticipation at the sight of it — except that the butterflies deposited the tome in the waiting, loving arms of their master instead.
I deflated, my shoulders sloping. “What is it now, Evander?”
“Fine,” he said. “As in, ‘Fine, I’m willing to hand it over.’ But what would you give me in exchange? Go on. Negotiate with me. Strike a bargain.”
I raked my fingers through my hair in frustration, knowing that I was minutes away from punching him in the throat and just running away with the book tucked under my arm.
“There is no time for this. What do you mean bargain? Fuck bargaining. This benefits everyone. How can you not understand that?”
He batted his lashes. “Does it benefiteveryone? Because as far as I’m concerned, you get a spell, and I lose the book. You walk away winning.”
My mouth fell open, but I couldn’t find a damn thing to say. I wondered if this all came down to Evander’s upbringing, his dedication to wealth and avarice. Was he really a demon in service of the prime hell of Greed? That had to be it. It all checked out. I squinted at him, trying to make out the horns through his stupid, perfect blond hair.
“Bargaining is the very essence of summoning,” he continued. “Don’t you remember that from all of our lectures?”
“No,” I snapped. “Because bargaining isn’t the basis of our craft. Summoning is all about helping each other out. It’s about community. It’s about asking for help when you need it, and offering it to those in need. Even the grand summoners of old were always there to lend aid.”
“For the right price.” Evander raised his finger, grinning slyly. “They would lend aid to those who could afford their services.”
His grin grew wider as he closed both arms around the tome, clenching it tighter against his chest. The book really was enormous, taking up a large part of Evander’s torso. I didn’t dare look much lower, though. His kimono really was that skimpy.
“And here’s my price,” he said. “You will take me with you into the Oriel of Water.”
“No fucking way,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Lochlann, why are you like this?” he asked, as if scandalized by the idea that I didn’t want to spend even a single minute more than necessary around him. “Two summoners entering the oriel as allies? How could that possibly go wrong? We would flatten everything that opposed us.”
“Because I have no reason to form an alliance with you,” I said, emphasizing my point with a jab of my finger. “You stole a guardian kill out from under our noses when we were in the Oriel of Air. It was your fault that I had to go looking around the Wispwood forests for more frostfeather because you just had to pluck the bush in the botanical gardens completely bald.”
Evander gasped and gathered himself up, gently pressing the tips of his fingers against his cheekbones. “I needed it for my moisturizing routine,” he said icily. “This is the closest to an offer of friendship I can extend you, Locke. Why, I’ll even make it up to you, help you hunt down and defeat a guardian. Multiple guardians. That’s part of why you’re entering the oriel, isn’t it?”
I stiffened, refusing to answer, hating that he knew exactly how to appeal to me.
“Kill two birds with one stone. You know it makes sense. You’d know all about birds, wouldn’t you? And stones? Think about it. We’ll kill more guardians, harvest more gemstones. So many Tears of the Ocean you could roll around in them. Why settle for one when you can have as many as we can find?”
I clenched my teeth and my fists, knowing he was right. More Tears of the Ocean would mean more power for the Wispwell, and more water to cure the Withering.
But something was wrong here. Evander Skink was offering to help. As a person, it implied that he had a human heart, something that I knew was functionally impossible. And wasn’t he just taunting me about how even the grand summoners charged money to perform their great works of magic?
“I still don’t get what’s in it for you,” I said. “If this really is all about bargains. You’re a self-serving creature, Evander Skink.”
Evander flustered, taking a step back. “Why, I — it means I get to help the academy, as well as the world at large. The arcane underground.” He lifted his nose. “You know me well enough. I’ll gladly take credit for all the work you put in, too. See? Self-serving. Completely within character.”
