“Wow.” I had no idea what to do with that kind of money. Save it, probably. Though it seemed like a lot, if I ever had to leave the Protectorate, I’d need it. But the most important question still remained. The thing that I really wanted. More than half a million pounds. More than almost anything. “How does this affect me at the academy? Can I advance to the next level?”
Jude nodded. “You’ve done well. Real-world scenarios are better for you than training exercises, it appears.”
My shoulders relaxed, and I grinned. Thank fates. I couldn’t keep spinning my wheels in class.
“You’ll still have to do some exercises with your classmates, of course,” Jude said. “But this went a long way.”
Arach sat. “Jude is correct. You’re proving yourself, Ana. Well done.”
“Thanks.” Worry tugged at me. “Do you have any idea what pantheon I might be? I have two new powers, but no idea who gave them to me.” I hated the wondering.
“How would you describe the powers?” Arach leaned forward, interest gleaming in her eyes.
“I have one that is like prophecy—sort of. It helps me answer questions. And I have some kind of light that feeds on my energy but can repel darkness and sickness.”
Arach’s brows rose. “Interesting. Those sound unusual. But I have no idea what pantheon they could belong to.”
“We don’t have enough information,” Jude said. “Until you know more about them, it’s a mystery.”
Damn.
“The light must be what helped you resist the dark curse that stole everyone else’s magic,” Arach said. “It’s a magic that resists and survives. In the end, it’s what helped you find the ancientus curse.”
“You’ll have to learn to use it,” Jude said. “You’ll need your magic to pass the academy.”
“And to survive,” Arach added. “Now that your magic is appearing, you’re going to need to learn to harness it, or it will devour you.”
I nodded, determined to succeed.
“We’ll help you, Ana,” Jude said. “But most of it will be up to you. Success or failure, life or death. It’s all on your shoulders.”
I nodded, swallowing hard.
I can do this.
I have to do this.
After the meeting, I hurried through the ancient, winding corridors up to my apartment. It was nearly seven, and the sun had long since set. I was supposed to meet our friends at the Whisky and Warlock to celebrate, and I was running late.
It’d been because I had a meeting with the most powerful figures at the Protectorate, but Bree and Rowan wouldn’t take that excuse when they were ready to party.
Slightly out of breath, I let myself into my apartment. As usual, the Cats of Catastrophe lounged on the couch. A bowl of potato chips sat between them, but there were no people present.
I pointed. “Those yours?”
Bojangles snagged a chip out of the bowl and crunched down.
“I guess so.” My gaze caught on the easel on the side wall. There was a new painting on it.
What the heck?
I stepped closer.
It was a painting of a dead mouse sitting on a doorstep. There was a red heart in the corner. It was a rough image, looking like it’d been done with fingerpaints.
“I did not paint that,” I muttered as I turned to the cats. “Did you see who did this?”
Muffin and Bojangles both meowed. Princess Snowflake III just stared at me. My eyes flicked to her paw. Brown and red paint dotted her toes.
My eyes widened. “You?”
“Meow.”
I looked back at the painting.
Holy crap, it was a gift.
Most cats brought their people dead rodents as a sign of affection. Or perhaps to feed their hapless and pathetic owners who couldn’t hunt properly. Who really knew.
But this was definitely a present from Princess Snowflake III. She hadn’t caught me a mouse. She’d painted me one.
I looked back at her, shocked. “So you do like me!”
She hissed.
I looked at Muffin. “Care to translate?”
She likes you.
“But the hissing?”
She’s not eating your face, is she?
I grinned and looked at Princess Snowflake III. “I like you, too, Princess.”
She hissed again.
“Excuse me. Princess Snowflake III.”
She jumped off the couch, strolled up to me, and butted her head against my shin. Then she turned abruptly and returned to the couch, smearing a bit of red paint on the fabric.
I sighed, looking at my gruesome new painting. “I guess I’ll have to hang it in the entranceway!”
An hour later, after they’d spent an appropriate amount of time oohing and aahing over my new painting, Bree and Rowan accompanied me to the Whisky and Warlock. It was our favorite place in Edinburgh. In fact, it was everyone’s favorite place.
The Whisky and Warlock was the official pub of the Protectorate, and we had our own little room in the twisty and turny old place. Fortunately, it was just a short walk away, through the enchanted glen and the portal that took us directly to the Grassmarket.
The night was windy and cold as we walked down the cobblestone street to the pub. I pushed open the door and ducked under the low doorway, sighing at the warmth and the golden glow. The pub was like a maze, full of little rooms and nooks and crannies. I went left, into the little room where the Protectorate always gathered.
As I entered, everyone started clapping. Though some of my fellow students just stared at me, unimpressed.
Ha! Take that, Lavender and Angus.
I smiled. Normally, we celebrated our victories and mourned our defeats in this little room. But I’d never been the recipient of the applause before. It was kind of nice.
The fire crackled in the hearth, and the old wooden bar gleamed under the warm light. Muffin sat at a bar stool, and I had no idea how he’d gotten here faster than me. He had a martini glass full of cream in front of him and wore a new gemstone in his ear. Next to him sat Kitty, the plump black cat who lived here. Kitty was a girl as far as I knew, which meant that Muffin was on a date?
I stifled a chuckle and wished him luck. With his singed whiskers, he was going to have to be extra charming.
“Come on. Let’s get drinks!” Bree said.
“Ana’s paying!” Rowan crowed.
I grinned. I could spare some of my new nest egg, especially for these guys.
We squeezed up to the bar. Sophie, the bartender, had her dark hair pulled up. Today, her T-shirt read Don’t Mess With Nessie. She grinned widely. “Glass of bubbly for you?”
“Please!” I grinned. “And a pink cocktail for Bree and whatever weird thing Rowan is drinking these days.”
Rowan laughed and punched me lightly on the shoulder. We hopped up on the barstools, careful to give Muffin his space. Sophie delivered our drinks.
“You did good, Ana.” Bree sipped her pink drink.
“Thanks.” I leaned against her, happy. We chatted for a while, stopping occasionally to talk with the people who swung by. Caro, Ali, and Haris joined us, and we started up a game of pool in the back room.
As usual, Caro wiped the floor with us. She’d done a short stint as a pool shark a few years ago, and it showed. We played for a couple hours. Every thirty minutes or so, I’d look around for Lachlan, hoping to see him. But there was no reason for him to be at our hangout. I hadn’t seen him since last night in the infirmary. He’d had more injuries than I’d realized—the cloaked figure had broken several of his ribs when he’d thrown him across the room.
Eventually, we headed home. It would be an early day of classes tomorrow. As we walked out of the pub, I craned my neck around, looking for him once more.
But nope. He was nowhere to be seen.
I frowned, disappointed, then followed my friends out. The wind was bitter as we made our way down the street and through the portal to the Protectorate. It was even colder in the Highlands, and we ran all the way back to the castle, jumping over gnarled old tree roots in the enchanted glen and sprinting across the great lawn.
I was gasping and laughing by the time we pushed through the doors, so grateful to have this as my home and my new life. It’d been hard on the outside. Hard and dangerous and scary.
Life could still be those things here, but we had backup. Support.
Grinning, I followed my friends across the entry hall.
“Ana.” Lachlan’s voice made me pull up short.
I turned. He stood at the entrance of the hallway that led to Arach’s office.
“Ana?” Bree whispered.