Pensey Hayes. Satday, Libra 10th, 2353. 4:56 PM. Arroyo Athenaeum (Stadium).
Pensey traced the arcane symbol for serenity on her palm repeatedly as she paced back and forth. I don’t know why I bother. This stupid little ritual never works.
She was in the visiting team’s locker room, which served as the staff’s staging area for the dance. All the underclassmen serving as ushers had been briefed. The caterers, set up in the other locker room, were on time and the food smelled delicious. The DJ was set up and some soft pop filled the stadium. And they really outdid themselves with the decorations.
But our Master of Ceremonies is nowhere to be seen. Drav, where the hell are you? She dialed his symphone number again, and again, it went to messages. She stuffed her phone back into her clutch and sighed, defeated. Ah, to hell with it. I’ll do it myself if I have to. She walked over and checked the mic’s batteries, just to have something to do.
“Hey,” a voice whispered in her ear.
Pensey yelped and nearly tripped in her heels, clutching the mic to her chest. But Hace caught her as if it were a planned dance move. He smiled playfully, and the mere sight of him made her happy—but she still swatted him in the shoulder as he let go, and gestured that he had startled her, as if it wasn’t self-evident.
“High-strung much?” he chuckled.
“I can’t get ahold of Drav. We’re supposed to start at five!”
Hace squeezed her shoulder and smiled.
“Relax. I came here with him. He just stepped into the bathroom to put on his tux.”
“Oh thank god,” Pensey breathed.
Hace pointedly looked her over from hairdo to hem. Students were permitted to wear their dress uniforms or asfalis formal wear to dances, and she had opted for a full-length hunter green dress embroidered with gold thread and cats eye beadwork. In place of sleeves, the shoulders blossomed into a gold and green tulle shawl. She was slightly self-conscious about her bust due to the dress’s plunging neckline, especially when Hace’s eyes lingered. Her hair was done up in a French twist; she wanted to be able to dance freely without worry of flipping her locks in somebody’s face.
“You look stunning,” Hace said.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said with a wink.
His aspirant dress uniform’s mantel was adorned with literal dozens of academic and athletic awards, which Pensey actually found kind of silly. It struck her as odd to decorate students like they were soldiers. But she couldn’t deny that the badges added a certain storybook quality to his already-princely bearing. And his auburn hair. She could also smell a hint of aftershave, and was relieved that he knew how to wear it without dousing himself head to foot.
True to Hace’s word, they had taken their budding relationship slowly. Breakfasts together. Texts between classes and before bed that turned into late night conversations. He hugged her, they held hands, and she had pecked him on the cheek, but aside from that, he had been almost frustratingly chaste. I know he’s trying to break a bad habit for me, but if he doesn’t kiss me tonight, I’m going to get a complex. Though if the hunger in his eyes was genuine, she didn’t think he would be able to hold out much longer.
“Your master of ceremonies has arrived!” a booming voice declared.
Both of them turned to take stock of Drav. He wore a chocolate morning coat with swallowtails, matching slacks, black leather loafers, and symmetrical shoulder capes that made his already-imposing frame seem enormous. He rounded out the ensemble with a burgundy bowtie. There was only one problem.
“Uh. Drav. Where’s your shirt?” Pensey asked.
Drav gave her a sheepish smile and shrugged.
“My apologies, Miss Hayes. You have to understand, English is not my first language, and there was a mix-up when renting my tuxedo. No shirt was included, and when I came to pick up my order, they had nothing in my size. But to apologize, they let me rent the shoulder capes for free!”
“Bullshit,” Hace said. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”
“You have no proof,” Drav said, folding his arms across his partially bare chest. Then he turned to Pensey and pointedly flexed his muscles. “Come now! You do not like what you see?”
Hace buried his face in his palm, but Pensey could tell he was trying hard not to laugh.
“Drav, you look like a Las Vegas stripper,” Pensey complained. “Faulkner will have my head! Can’t you change back into your dress uniform? Or even your regular uniform?”
He shook his head, then nodded at the clock on the wall.
“Changing now would put us behind schedule, and as your MC, I find that unconscionable. What is the Broadway expression? ‘The show must go on?’”
“Put a damn shirt on or I’m not giving you the mic,” Pensey said sternly.
Drav frowned and drew his index finger down from his eye to his cheek to indicate a tear. Then he shrugged and immediately sprinted down the tunnel that led to the court, calling:
“I am the mic!”
By the time he emerged, he had cast a sonic contract allowing him to amplify his voice at will.
“Aspirants, amagia, and alumni! Good evening and welcome to the Arroyo Athenaeum’s 2353 Homecoming Celebration! I am your host, ninth-year Peacekeeping Aspirant, Dravnik Sokolov!”
The crowd met Drav’s appearance with laughter and a roar of cheers. Pensey still stood frozen in the locker room, clutching the mic. Well fuck. Guess there’s no walking it back now. She sighed and looked at Hace, who shook his head and snickered.
“At least his speeches are on point,” Hace said, and he gently guided Pensey out of the tunnel.
“Faulkner is going to flay me,” she complained.
“I’m pretty sure Faulkner knows Drav is insane. Hell, I’m pretty sure everybody knows Drav is insane at this point. Anyway. We did everything we could, and it’s out of our hands now. Might as well enjoy the evening.”
Hace offered her his left arm and she took it as they walked onto the court.
— Hace Matthews | 5:01 PM —
Using over two hundred glamours and a portable gygen to perpetuate the contracts, Pensey’s committee had decorated the stadium to look like a stunning forest. Illusory trees with foliage in a gradient from dark green to gold, brown, and red dotted the stadium seating, with the colors growing steadily warmer the closer you got to the court where the DJ and dance floor waited. Some sections of the stadiums existed as normal seats, while other sections had been outfitted with kinetic platforms to accommodate dining areas. Waiters ferried hors d’oeuvres to the attendees. And through it all, a shower of illusory, semi-translucent autumn leaves fell at a steady pace, whimsically swirling around the attendees’ wyrds and disappearing before reaching the floor.
I am so glad she took the lead on this. Hace looked at Pensey, again taken aback by her dress, and the hint of a delicate, sweet perfume about her neck. There is already something about her so different from everybody else I have dated.
The answer came easily and was surprisingly simple: Pensey Hayes is the first of us to grow up. She’s the first true adult in my cohort. She doesn’t take herself deadly serious like Valmont, but she sees her commitments through and executes them brilliantly.
The realization dwarfed him. I am outclassed. Suddenly Hace felt nervous. Fraudulent. He had been infatuated with girls before, and he knew that he and Pensey were still very much in the honeymoon period. But she’s the first person to make me want to be a better person. His self-imposed prohibitions on getting too physical too quickly were starting to get painful, though. Especially when she’s in that dress.
Pensey turned and looked at Hace, breaking his reverie.
“Is it too much?” she asked.
“Huh?”
He blushed red and she smirked at him.
“The decorations. We went over the top.”
“I mean. Even with the shirtless MC, it’s the best-looking dance I’ve seen.”
Drav jogged back to Pensey and Hace and held out his hand:
“So… I have maybe miscalculated. I do actually need a mic so Faulkner can make his boring speech and we can get on with things.”
Pensey shoved the mic into Drav’s bare chest and gave him a withering look. He bowed and ran back to center court where Faulkner waited. The speech effusively thanked the donors and tediously listed the Athenaeum’s recent achievements but was relatively brief overall. Then the DJ kicked off the soft pop again, and the party got under way.
“Oh honey,” a voice cut through the crowd.
Hace looked just in time to see Glem hustle forward and take Pensey’s hands in his. He looked at Hace with a pointedly stony expression, then turned back to Pensey.
“Him? Are you sure?”
Gee, thanks asshole! Pensey swatted Glem in the shoulder, then wound herself around Hace’s arm. It made his pulse quicken so much that he felt like a kid again.
“We get enough of that from Lin already,” Pensey said, then added sarcastically: “Besides, I can fix him!”
Glem laughed.
“Good luck and god speed.”
“Doctor,” Hace said with a lazy salute.
Then he realized that Glem had a date—a slender blond guy who appeared to be in his late teens was accompanying him. He was wearing an asfalis blazer but had amagiate licenses—wait. Are those interdivisional license pins? This guy has three different licenses? Glem put his arm around the blond and gestured welcome to Hace and Pensey.
“Allow me to introduce Feryl O’Farrell, formerly of the Dublin Athenaeum, and now the Los Angeles Keeping Force. Fer, this is Pensey Hayes and that is Hace Matthews.”
Hace extended his hand, and Pensey did an honest-to-god curtsey. Feryl met Hace’s hand with a firm grip and a fierce, energetic smile. His voice had more than a touch of Irish brogue to it:
“Glem’s told me a lot about you. More than I can bear to hear at times, to be honest. You get up to some wild shite, Sparky.”
“Sparky?” Hace repeated.
“Aye, Glem tells me you’re good with fire. And if half of what else I’ve heard is true, you’re a lover of women, slayer of monsters, and proud defender of the weak and downtrodden.”
“Fer, I warned you about this. Don’t feed his ego,” Glem said before taking a sip of wine.
Feryl looked at Glem and tilted his head in concession, then added:
“Well, it sounds like you can also be a bit of a cheeky cunt, so maybe it’s all a wash.”
Hace scoffed:
“Takes one to know one, apparently!”
“Ha! Fair enough,” Feryl said.
Pensey and Glem cracked up. Great. Another comedian out for my blood. Then again, I can’t imagine Glem with somebody who wouldn’t take the piss out of me. Feryl apologized to Pensey for his crass language and bowed.
“You’re an amagia three times over? Arcanism, artificing, and animathurgy?” Pensey asked.
“That I am, love. Finished Dublin a touch early.”
“A touch?” Hace asked. “You don’t look a day over nineteen.”
Feryl blushed slightly, then shrugged dismissively.
“I graduated after my sixth year. But that was seven years ago, mind. The masters tried to slow me down by getting me to pursue multiple degrees, but honestly, things just started clicking that much faster.”
“Five years early with three disciplines.” Hace said, shaking his head in disbelief. Then he turned to face Glem. “He makes you look like an underachiever. I like that. It’s very refreshing.”
“I agree,” Glem said mildly. “Can’t tell you how nice it is to have somebody smart to talk to.”
Hace and Glem exchanged curt smiles and flipped each other off simultaneously. Feryl laughed. Pensey sighed and then addressed Feryl:
“I think the happy couple could use a minute to themselves. Thrice Master Feryl, would you be so kind as to accompany me while I get some refreshments?”
“Ooh. Thrice Master Feryl. I do like that,” He gestured to Hace and Glem as he extended his arm to Pensey. “See, she’s set a proper example now. From here on out, I expect you both to use my correct honorific, yeah?”
Pensey and Feryl walked toward one of the open bars, chatting with miraculous, spontaneous rapport.
“How long you two been dating?” Hace asked, a touch hurt.
“This is our third outing,” Glem said, then emanated apologies. “I wanted to tell you, man, but I’ve never had the right moment. Work has me swamped. And you have been dealing with some shit lately.”
Hace nodded. Fair enough. Glem continued:
“I heard you got a mithril rib. How does it feel?”
“Not that bad, honestly. I thought it might feel heavier or odd or something, but nah. The pain from the beating is mostly gone… but honestly the whole thing shook me up pretty bad. I mean, I’m supposed to be two years away from doing this professionally, and both Valmont and I got our asses handed to us by a student on a really bad drug trip.”
Hace was all smiles in the immediate aftermath of the fight with Renair. He even managed to maintain his high spirits after surgery. But in the following days, as the pain and adrenaline receded, he was haunted by how close he came to dying. How close we all came to dying.
Pensey could have died before I got the chance to really meet her. The first time he realized that, it was like a brand against his brain.
Hace cheated death more often than most. He had a close brush in the Faed or a random pocket dimension almost every year. But this wasn’t a monster. It was another person. A student. Like me. Not even a peacekeeper. And even with Lin, the elves, and Pensey helping me, we couldn’t win without the help of a monster cat. How am I supposed to call myself—
Glem gave Hace an exasperated look and cut off his internal monologue:
“Stop beating yourself up. When you’re doing this professionally, you’ll have three times the anima at your disposal, weapons suited for the assignment, and two teammates.”
“It was bad, Glem. Valmont and I both went down. If it wasn’t for their pet monster…”
“Sounds like I need to hear the whole story,” Glem said and took a sip of wine.
“You do, but not tonight. I’d prefer to hear about you and Feryl. Third date, huh? Usually you scare them off or get bored after one,” Hace said. “How did you two meet?”
Glem chuckled and scratched the back of his head.
“Uh. We matched on a dating daemon. Not the most romantic introduction, but… I like him.”
No shit. You’ve never been so coy about a romantic partner before.
“I can see why. A certifiable genius. Handsome. Personable.”
“I’m not sure how long it’s gonna last,” Glem said wistfully.
“Why?” Hace asked.
“It’s like you said, man. I get bored of people or intimidate them. But this is the first time I’ve been on the receiving end of that. Like, I feel like I can barely keep up, you know?”
“Bullshit. If he gets bored of you, he’s not paying attention, and if it’s hard for you to follow him—”
“I can follow him fine,” Glem said, exasperated.
“Then has he done anything to suggest you aren’t good enough for him?”
“No! He’s been a prince. But like. He likes men and women. And I’m not sure which he prefers. Lots of guys are just curious, and…”
Glem paused and looked at Hace as if that was a sufficient explanation for his lack of confidence. Hace shook his head and urged him to continue. Glem sighed:
“Look, in our small pond, I’m a hometown hero. And I’m proud of that. But the truth is, plenty of people do what I do all the time. Feryl is the youngest tri-licensed amagia in the history of the Third Amagium. Genius doesn’t begin to cover what that man is. I just… I feel outmatched. For the first time. I’ve always been the one in the position of power and—”
“I know exactly what you mean!” Hace said, eyes lighting with excitement.
“Really? From Pensey Hayes?” Glem asked, widening his eyes.
Hace nodded, his expression heart-attack serious.
“I know I fall for girls at the drop of a hat. It always just… sort of happened. But she is the first woman—like, actual woman—who makes me want to become a better man. Hell, she makes me want to act like a man, period.”
Glem drew back his head and nodded with surprised approval.
“Damn! I wouldn’t blame you if it was purely physical. She’s… radiant. Like the girl next door, if the girl next door happened to moonlight as the goddess of sunlight.”
Hace cracked up. Somehow, coming from you, that makes perfect sense. And yeah, it’s dead on. Glem smiled and continued:
“That said, I remember her being kind of mousy and quick to cry. So how’d she bring about all this…” Glem gestured at Hace vaguely. “…Introspection?”
Hace snickered and shook his head at a loss.
“It’s like you said, man. She’s my Goddess of Sunlight. Honest, hardworking, constant, and… she has this implacable kindness. Like, she so earnestly wants the best for the people she cares about that they can’t help but feel it. And it’s infectious! She makes the people around her better—”
Glem laughed and stopped Hace.
“I get you. I’m happy for you.”
Glem and Hace turned to face Pensey and Feryl as they started to return with drinks in hand, now laughing, already old friends. They almost looked related. His Handsome Irish Devil, and my Goddess of Sunlight.
“We’ve got our work cut out for us,” Glem said.
“Yeah,” Hace agreed. “But I think we’ve got this.”
— Alinore Valmont | 6:14 PM —
Lin sat in the illusory forest in seats opposite of the stage and dance floor. She was on her third glass of cheap red wine and starting to feel the alcohol in earnest. To be honest, she didn’t want to attend Homecoming. Athren was still recovering, and there weren’t any other returning upperclassmen she was particularly eager to catch up with. Moreover, she felt like she had no right to celebrate. If anything, I should be doing penance. Or mourning the person I thought I was.
But after all the work Pensey put into organizing the dance, she felt compelled to at least put in an appearance. She wore her dress uniform, but had her hair down as a concession to the occasion. I don’t know why I want to look pretty when I feel so ugly. Seems hypocritical.
She heard footsteps above her, and looked to see Azmuir approaching with his hands in his pockets. Fuck. He wore his dress uniform in the most unkempt manner possible, jacket unclasped, undershirt unbuttoned and untucked.
Az, I don’t know what else there is to say.
She had agonized about her decision to break up with him. She felt like a hypocrite for refusing to beg her father to intervene on his behalf. He was framed, but because Citri died, she can’t recant her false-yet-ironclad statements. With her testimony on the record against him, the AKF has a slam dunk conviction. So he’s getting expelled for a crime he didn’t commit, while I get to continue on my merry way even though I broke every rule in the book. How am I supposed to excuse that? How am I supposed to even say hello—
“Hey,” Azmuir said, standing in the aisle.
“Hey,” Lin said, though her voice sounded hoarse.
She turned and waved, but couldn’t bring herself to look him directly in the eye. He walked down the row above Lin and took the seat over her right shoulder. They sat there silently for a moment, watching the athenaeum collectively schmooze and eat at the tables far below.
“It’s ironic. This is the last day I’m allowed on campus.” Azmuir said. “From homecoming to exile overnight.”
“I’m sorry, Az,” Lin said, at a loss for anything else. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “If I was faster, I could have saved you from being framed.”
“I mean, thanks to you, the bastard responsible is paying for it.”
There was a long pause as Lin struggled to think of something to say. I told my parents he was framed, but I never asked them to pardon him outright. She didn’t truly regret it—abusing her family’s influence twice wouldn’t make her own illicit pardon any more palatable—but she still felt like shit. His life is over. And if I was willing to beg, I might have been able to save it.
She told herself that she tried. I explained what happened with Citri to the detectives, and they seemed sympathetic, in a disingenuous “our hands are tied” sort of way. But they had also argued that there was no way to know whether Azmuir really was involved in Renair’s schemes, and a surefire conviction trumped a messier truth.
“Honestly, this has been an important experience. Eye-opening, really,” Azmuir said.
Lin gestured for him to continue. The least I can do is hear him out.
“Even if your parents were willing to pardon me, I’m not sure I could serve as a peacekeeper in good conscience. If you have to break the rules to make the system work, the system is broken. Honestly, I’ve harbored my doubts for a long time. If my scholarship would have permitted it, I think I would have switched disciplines in seventh year. Archivism. Or maybe Arcanism.”
He scoffed and shook his head. “Moot point now though.”
Were you even worried about me? Lin wondered. I have never been so close to death. I’ve never been so utterly defeated before. I feel like I’m not cut out for my life’s calling, and you don’t even care. You haven’t bothered to ask. I know you’re suffering. This literally ruined your life. But you’ve never been able to see past your own orbit.
“I am sorry, Azmuir,” Lin said, turning to look at him at last. “You didn’t deserve this.”
He gave her his sad, wry smile and shrugged.
“Not your problem, right?”
His words lanced her heart. What the hell do you want me to say? Can’t you see this is eating me up? Azmuir nodded at the crowd below.
“I never belonged here, Lin. And I pushed my luck even further by dating you.”
And what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you still blaming me for this? You’re that desperate to believe this was some conspiracy my parents hatched to get you away from me? He scoffed at her incredulous expression.
“What? Look, I’m not a fool. We weren’t going to last no matter what. Our trajectories would have fallen out of sync as soon as we graduated. You’re beautiful, smart, skilled, and driven. Your family’s reputation means your efforts will always be fully appreciated. I imagine you’ll make Special Guard as quick as your brother.
“Meanwhile, I’d bust my ass serving a cause I couldn’t fully believe in and eventually settle for a life of hypocrisy and mediocrity. Because the Amagium isn’t concerned with controlling magic, Lin. It’s about control, period. An engine of wealth and power, just like everything else.”
I can’t make you happy, even if I sat here listening to your lectures all night. And even if you could forgive me for failing to save you, you would never forgive me for being a Valmont. Lin finished the last of her wine, and stood up.
“Best of luck, Azmuir.”
He looked at her, stunned, as if he thought she owed him something else. In the end, he waved at her dismissively:
“Yeah. You too, Lin.”
