Page 32 of Bonds of Blood
And I found it, retrieving the very thing that had started all this — my journey to the Wispwood, my long years of feeling inadequate in my father’s eyes, of living up to the standards of a man who turned out to have no qualms or morals.
I pulled out the Wilde grimoire, this overblown emblem of our legacy, a name now shamed by the very man who’d elevated it to some measure of historical significance.
“Pah,” Baylor shouted. “What now, little Lochlann? Look all you like. None of the spells in that pitiful tome shall — ”
I didn’t let him finish. Holding the grimoire tight, I smacked him in the mouth and knocked him out cold.
17
Baylor Wilde didn’t go quietly.He struggled and complained as the authorities led him away — what was left of him, anyway, after Aphrodite, my friends, and the Wilde grimoire had beaten him so severely back in the oriel.
The Spire of Radiance was positively crawling with people, and not just students and faculty this time. There were many, many enforcers of magical law within the arcane underground, and nearly every agency was chomping at the bit for the opportunity to haul away a grand summoner of the Wispwood.
What a catch for them — one of the greatest mages of the age! Someone long presumed dead, until he returned from beyond the reaches of arcane society to wreak havoc. I could already see the headlines, imagine the probing, curious stares of anyone who knew that I was Baylor’s son.
My next stroll to the Black Market with Sylvain to pick up supplies was going to be very interesting indeed. But I truly couldn’t give a shit either way. All I could focus on was the relief of getting Baylor Wilde out of my hair at last. After all this time, I could finally step out of his shadow.
All three of the headmasters had gathered in the chamber, Belladonna and Shivers freshly returned from their respective scouting missions through the oriels. Cornelius Butterworth wrung his fingers together, the worried expression on his face in stark contrast to the smiling, bright-eyed man in his portrait nearby.
Headmaster Cornelius wiped at his forehead with a dainty white handkerchief. “Belladonna. Shivers. Please tell me that we aren’t ruined. Baylor Wilde, among the greatest alumni of our ancient institution, the most prized product of its hallowed halls. A criminal. Gods above and below. What of our academy’s reputation now?”
“A grand summoner gone rogue,” Belladonna corrected, wagging her finger at him. She took his hand, patted the back of it, kinder than I’d ever seen her. Almost sweet, even. “The papers will froth over this as a tasty bit of gossip, for certain. And the public will lap it all up, the fools. But it’s only a temporary setback, Cornelius. We had no way of knowing that Baylor Wilde would turn so deeply to the darkness. People will forget in time.”
“And people will remember the Wispwell.” Headmaster Shivers rubbed him on the back. “They will remember how the Wispwood rallied to rescue the world from the Withering. What is reputation at the end of all things, after all? There will always be students in this castle. Do not worry about rehabilitation for the moment. It may take some effort on our part, but hasn’t it always?”
Cornelius dragged his handkerchief down to the tip of his nose and nodded solemnly. “Thank you, my friends. I remember now why I agreed to split the authority and power over the academy between the three of us. The two of you do have your uses, at times.”
He threw me a sidelong wink that he didn’t even bother hiding from the other headmasters. Shivers answered with a hoarse and hearty chuckle. Belladonna shot him a death-glare that made him drop his hanky, though that might have been on purpose, just for laughs. But I knew why the three of them agreed to work together, as I suspected every student of the Wispwood knew in their heart.
Cornelius was the bright flame of curiosity, the spark of discovery in someone’s eye, the warmth and satisfaction of learning. Belladonna brought the sharpness of will, raw talent, and intellect. And Shivers represented the very essence of arcane mystery, how there would always be something new to discover in the misty realms of magic, more secrets to unearth from the depths.
Together they formed the pillars of the Wispwood, arguably the three sturdiest oaks within our forest. Ancient, wise, important. A tree was nothing without its forest, we always said at the academy. We’d be lost without the leadership of the three headmasters.
And of Dr. Euclidea Fang, naturally, who everyone acknowledge as our de facto fourth headmaster. I suspected that asking her outright would get me slapped in the face with a ruler, but I had a feeling Dr. Fang wouldn’t want the position even if it existed. She loved to bully — I mean, guide fledgling summoners like me a little too much, and she was really good at it, too.
She leaned against a wall away from the others, tapping her foot. She glanced away quickly when I caught her eye, but pursed her lips and nodded when I approached.
“I’m sorry, Wilde. This probably wasn’t how you were expecting your family reunion to go.”
“You know what? It probably went as best as it could.” I rubbed the back of my neck and shrugged. “Baylor meets his jailor. It might be the safest place to keep him, behind bars. The kind that are enchanted to nullify all magic, preferably.”
Dr. Fang wrinkled her nose. “Grand summoner my foot. But speaking of which, a little bird told me that you summoned — gods above and below, Lochlann. Tell me. Is it true?”
I bit on my lip to stop myself from grinning, but nodded as quickly as my head would go without it snapping right off. Dr. Fang was wearing her “Tell me everything” face, her mouth open, her eyes huge. And so I did. Every last detail, even the weird, mildly sexy parts, which was Aphrodite’s trademark, after all.
“Unbelievable,” she said, shaking her head. “Unprecedented. All of the un- words chained together, frankly. All the uns. Speaking of which, under no circumstance are you to attempt that again. Very dangerous stuff. Do you hear me, Wilde? And if you do — by accident, that is — you are to come running straight to me. To report. In gruesome, excruciating detail. Understood?”
I held my hands up. “Again with the mixed signals here, Doc. But I swear, if and when I get the opportunity to conjure up another ancient Greek god, you’ll be the first to find out.”
“There’s a good boy.” She patted me on the cheek. “Too sarcastic for my taste, but sure, I’ll take it.”
I nudged her hand away with a laugh. “Hey, are you coming for drinks at Bruna’s place later? Namirah’s making some snacks, too. It’ll just be friends. Very private, very chill.”
My sisters, my best friends. It wasn’t enough that they staged a search and rescue with my impulsive, bullheaded prince. Now they were throwing a little party for us, too.
Dr. Fang clucked her tongue as she strutted away, heels clicking. “A professor of alchemy running a bar out of her own office. So unprofessional. Very inappropriate. Of course I’ll be there.”
“Don’t you go drinking too much now, Locke,” said my very own mother, slipping next to me, gently grasping my hand. “The girls tell me that you’re not very good at holding your drink.”
