CHAPTER 39: THE ONLY HELP
It seemed all would come to an end over the Makshweir Mountains, where the twin of Obsidian fell to one knee.
Clutching the strap of her borrowed bag with icy-white knuckles, Bridget marched out of Honor House, mind racing as she tried to hold herself together on the way to Administration. It felt like every bit of preparation she had done that morning had been pulled out from underneath her, upended, and knocked to the bottom without the time to sweep the shards back up. She was sharp, hurting, and all too fast looking at the large, bronze doors to the building that held unknown fates insides.
Peeling her fingers off the bag, Bridget pushed her way in. In a rush of sound and color, she found herself walking past the skeletal secretary, and through the only marked door against the back wall of Administration, which held a gold plaque proclaiming: ‘Headmistress’ in a font as severe and unforgiving as the woman waiting inside.
Terna was waiting behind a desk made of black wood twice as long as a full-grown person, in a high-back chair that seemed just as tall. The headmistress was dressed in a suit of dark grey woold lined by crimson red, which did little to reassure Briddy as she took a seat on the drab darkwood bench that was plopped in front of the desk. The older woman took no notice, neatly sorting a small stack of papers into three piles in front of her. If she gave any indication that she knew Bridget was present, it was an irritated twitch of her eyebrow when Briddy set her bag on the bench beside her, and not at her feet.
The headmistress continued sorting, leaving Bridget to fester and squirm, glancing at the walls on either side of them that were stuffed with plaques and trophies from previous students, or out the enormous round window on the far wall.
“Do you know what I said to your sister when I expelled her?” Terna’s voice was like a whip.
Bridget flinched.
“Of course not. I said–”
“If you can’t control yourself, you’re no better than the things we hunt.” Briddy finished, and upon seeing the irritated eyebrow twitch return, added, “Ma’am.”
Terna steepled her hands together. “So you recall that, but not the rules on the first day of school, is that right, Vasily?”
Bridget felt her emotions rile, but bit down on her tongue. She watched the headmistress watching her face, and lifted her chin.
“Niles Sanlaurent attacked both me and his cousin. I was defending myself, Ma’am.”
The eyebrow rose. “Is that so?”
Bridget told her version of events, doing her best to get each detail right, down to the spell, but it felt like she was offering broken pieces of a pane that was once whole. After she was done, the corners of the headmistress’s mouth quirked down. “Say I believe you, girl. I’ve had students like Sanlaurent before. Proud, arrogant, brought up to believe they’re the crux of the world’s turning even though they’re barely above stock quality to begin with.”
Bridget lifted her head, a little kernel of hope leaping in her stomach.
Then Terna steepled her fingers, fixing her with a powder-blue gaze that shot that kernel through. “I’ve also had students like you. Two, in fact.”
Something twisted in Briddy’s core at the implication. “I’m not like them.” She muttered, almost out of habit.
“Really?” The Headmistress drew the word out, leaning closer. “Because from where I sit, I’ve had this conversation at least two times before.” Her voice dropped to let the impact of her words set in.
Bridget shifted, uncomfortable.
“There’s always going to be another Niles, another enemy or obstacle in your path, girl. You can’t stop it from happening. Will you always just draw your blade and start swinging?”
“That isn’t what happened!”
“Go on then, tell me your relic advised you to do it, that’s a classic.” Terna plucked at her chin-length bob.
Briddy bit her lip. It wouldn’t be entirely wrong to say that was the case, but the Headmistress’ tone made it clear this was the wrong thing to say.
“I drew my blade once I was attacked. I have a right to defend myself.” She stated, forcing the words into place around her trembling voice.
“That’s not how he and Kurtis Obinshur tell it.”
Swallowing bile, Bridget silently wished things weren’t the way they were but for Tuck.
“Do you deny summoning your relic?” Terna pressed.
“He cast a spell–”
“Then you get a teacher.”
“But–”
“Not handle itself with whatever passes as the Vasily version of schoolyard justice!” The Headmistress barked over her protestations.
“A bit hard to do when he’s throwing fireballs into my back!” Bridget slapped her hands on the desk, rising partially and leaning in. “Would you walk away and just let your blood be spilled, ma’am?”
`They glared at each other in silence, until Terna cleared her throat. “Regardless, unless his cousin files a complaint, I can only operate off of the information I’m given. My instinct would be to expel you immediately and be done with this whole mess…”
Bridget sank, her righteous fury fleeing like fog before a lamp.
“But it seems your claims of divergence may have merit. Quite a few of your teachers speak of the excellence you display as a student, including Doctors Gektu and Maistwel, and this is the first incident we’ve had.” Terna pursed her lips, looking Bridget over with thoughtful eyes. “Professor Hennigan, however, seems to think that you’re no better than your siblings, Miss Vasily. Do you truly feel you’re not cut from their stock?”
A refusal sprung to Bridget’s lips, but then Niles’ gloating face flashed in her mind. If being like Adelaide meant not standing by while people like him did as they wished, then maybe it was better to be one of those who disrupted.
Her hesitation left a pregnant pause and ended in Bridget looking away.
“Tell me, what’s going on at home?” The question caught her off guard, startling Briddy out of her ruminations of yesterday.
“Everyone is currently recovering well, if that’s what you mean,” She replied cautiously.
“Is that all?” The look the headmistress was giving her was one filled with knowing, eyes digging in at layers they had no right to see. “There have been some concerns raised over things you’ve said, and I’m giving you an opportunity now to tell me if you need help.” Red flags raised and paraded across Bridget’s consciousness in bright scarlet swaths, and her jaw shut fast.
“Bridget?” The use of her name further raised Briddy’s guard. Did Terna know something, somehow? Or was it all a bluff? Who told her? Gail couldn’t have, she had been with her all morning. Was it possible that someone had overheard them whispering in the night? Her mind raced, panic tingling at her fingertips.
“I–” Bridget paused, caught between truth and lie until her eyes happened upon the pin on the Headmistress’ lapel. No bigger than a thumbnail, really, a small set of golden flames dutifully worn even after retirement. She looked up. “Everything’s great.”
Terna exhaled hard, pushing air out of her sharp nostrils. “Is it really.” That wasn’t a question.
“Yes.” Bridget forced her face into a brilliant smile.
“I’m trying to help you, girl,” The headmistress sounded on her last wisp of patience.
It would seem we are back to formality. Vex observed.
Tilting her chin down, Bridget looked up through her lashes. “I thought this was a disciplinary meeting, ma’am.”
“And I’m one of the few who can,” Terna said, speaking over her point.
“Or one of the few who stands to gain from my family’s crisis.” Briddy glanced at the pin on the headmistress’ lapel. “How is the Imbar Coalition doing these days?”
The older woman looked at her, unamused. “You make assumptions without knowing the facts.”
“Well, you did expel my siblings so–”
“Enough.” Terna’s voice was cool as she sliced through “As noted earlier, this meeting is not about anyone but you.” She picked up a piece of paper from the middle stack in front of her. “And unfortunately, without a counter-complaint to refute the accusation of summoning and attacking another student with a relic–”
“River’s rush!” Briddy leapt off the bench. “I didn’t attack him with it, did you see any blade wounds on him?”
“Mr. Obinshur stated he administered first aid.”
Bridget scoffed at her. “Why didn’t he get a teacher?”
Terna scowled, and Briddy shut up.
Terna flicked her eyes at the bench, and Briddy sat.
“To continue,” Her lips pinched around the words before she went on. “There are, perhaps, holes in their accounts that line up with pieces of yours, but through your own admittance and a lack of evidence, the fact remains that you did break the rules, girl.”
Bridget looked at her feet, lowering her head for the executioner’s blow. A deep part of her had known this was coming, here was the strike.
“You’ll not be expelled.”
She straightened, relief flooding her.
“Sculptor, don’t look at me like that. If we expelled every clubheaded idiot who summoned a relic in a brawl, we’d have no graduating class by the time you lot got to third year.” Terna paused, muttering. “I doubt the majority would make it to second.”
Bridget supposed that was true and was suddenly conspicuously aware again of the fact that Gail had been left out of Nile’s fuss and drama.
“That being said, striking another student and summoning a relic against one are both against the rules, which merits you a detention with the Muckeels, effective immediately.”
The declaration took several moments for Bridget to process. The words ‘detention’ and ‘Muckeels’ slammed against each other in her mind, each conjuring their own horrible reactions. She had never gotten detention before, always kept her head down in school, and the fact that she was being punished for a wrong she had tried to right…
Where is the justice in this? Vex whispered.
Bridget didn’t know.
The headmistress ran a hand through her grey hair. “As for the rest of it, I’ll tell you the same thing I told your siblings: Whenever you’re ready for help–.”
“I’ll ask for it.” Bridget’s heart skipped a beat as Terna roughly rose, and she hesitated before following suit. She knew she was pushing close to disrespect, but she hadn’t appreciated the attempt at using her as a pawn in guild politics. Terna glanced her over and then strode out without another word, Briddy on her heels.
Slipping into worry as they walked, she recalled Asher’s hollow eyes after his detention, his recollections of stifling, slithering suppression and emptiness. She could feel her toes curling in her boots, and moments later, her knees locked, tripping her up.
“Come along, Vasily.” Terna barked. They had left her office, and she stood next to a door that led behind the windows of Administration while Briddy caught up. A huge part of Bridget’s chest felt like it was being jerked back by some invisible force with each step, the unfairness of it all preventing her from accepting this fate. Past the windowed desk and the skeletal secretary was an arched door of yellow brass, studded with bolts around the outside and tucked into a back corner that was impossible to see without entering the area behind the desk.
Terna came to a stop before it. “You know of Muckeels from your studies, girl?”
“Hatred level E.” Bridget rasped, swallowing before she continued. “They travel in packs and prefer damp clime-”
“Yes, good. You know your life is in no real danger then, this is merely something you must learn to tolerate.” All too fast, the brass door was swinging open in response to Terna’s ‘Forset’ and the headmistress gestured with her wrist at the yawning darkness beyond.
Bridget bit her lip. She couldn’t see an end to the shadow waiting within, just the flicker of light off of mud and the sudden shifting of an unknown mass within it.
“It was horrible.” Asher’s voice whispered, and her legs froze in place.
Losing patience, Terna gestured again, and an invisible force yanked Bridget to the threshold, heels squeaking a protest out against the floor.
“You’ll be fine. An hour or two without access to magic will do you good.”
And then she flicked a few fingers forward, and Briddy was shoved in.
Stumbling forward, Bridget fought to catch herself before she found herself swimming with the Muckeels, and had just barely found her footing when the room went pitch black with a boom. Whirling around, she looked back at where the door had been and was met with unforgiving darkness on all sides. The only thing she could feel was the wetness lapping at her knees, soaking her socks through and loosening their seats in her boots.
When she heard something shift to her right, Briddy’s hand shot out. “Enkandes.”
A small light sputtered to life at the end, barely bigger than a match, and Bridget recalled the rest of what Terna hadn’t allowed her to say earlier. While low in hatred level, Muckeels were hard to hunt because they suppressed magic, both from relics and spells.
Something landed on her outstretched arm with a wet plat.
Jerking it back, Bridget looked at the fat droplet of mud just as another fell, and another, until it began raining liquid dirt all around her. She was in the process of ducking her head underneath her Shroud (which the filth was bouncing off of like oil on water) when she heard the first thud. It was wet, and thick, reverberating through the wetness that Briddy stood in.
Swinging her light around, its pinpricks sputtering, she spotted ripples forming in dark, thick mud, and tried to back away as they began to head straight for her. As she moved back, her foot made contact with something and she stumbled, arms flailing as she tried to catch herself. Twisting around to catch her balance, Bridget came face to face with what she had tripped on and sucked in her breath. A long piscine head nearly the size of her own looked back at her, tilting large, gaping holes where eyes should have been. Its very skin seemed to be constantly dripping, oozing the very muck that rained down on her this moment. The head connected seamlessly to a long trunk of slime and muscle nearly as thick as a pine beam, sprouting out of the filth in the ground like the first daffodils of spring.
Turning a curved snout at her, the monstrosity opened its toothless mouth, smacking its lips with a wet flapping sound.
Bridget jerked away, turning to find two more rising from the mud, also without eyes, and yet still taking her in with their gaping holes.
What was going on? She had never heard of monstrosities lacking eyes, and she didn’t have time to worry about it at the moment.
She was trying to shimmy out from between the creatures when there was a sound like a great wheeze behind her, and suddenly her light was gone.
“Enkandes.” Bridget tried, flexing her fingers. “Enkandes!”
They remained empty, but she could feel it when the Muckeels began to move, cutting her off and slowly wrapping their dripping bodies around her. Fear gripped her chest, crushing her lungs in an icy cage as her breaths grew short and shuddering.
Vex? What do I do? What’s happening?
Bridget ducked down into the muck, sliding out of their coils just in time to run into another Muckeel, and another.
Vex?! There was a feeling of sliminess like her thought was sucked up.
She was running blind in the darkness, dashing and dodging as though she were back on her obstacle course at home, only this time she wildly changed direction every time she encountered another wet, mucky body. The creatures began lashing at her limbs, trying to hold her down in one place, and prevent her escape, and each bid for freedom was won narrower than the last. Bridget was so focused on running away that when she ran face-first into the wall, it took her a moment to realize what it was.
Vex, please. I need you. She put her back on the metal and tried to give breath to her burning lungs. Reaching out to the relic was like touching the muck with her mind, slippery and wet, absorbing the words before they could get out.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
There was no reply. Bridget was alone.
A whimper escaped her lips, trailing off into the darkness like a paper lantern released into the night. Drawn to it like Mistmoths to the flame, the soft, wet slithers of what seemed to be a hundred-score of bodies squelched back, growing louder as they sought out the source of the sound.
Pulling herself up the wall with shaking hands, Briddy desperately pulled herself flat against the wall, stretching out an arm in the blackness as she tried to shimmy sideways through the filth try and find something, anything to hold onto. Barely a few steps in, the first rubbery, sucking body curled around her leg, pulling it to the side.
“Nononononono.” She yanked it away, and tried to run again, but no sooner had she gotten one foot free than the mud near her left hand was disturbed, and her arm restrained. Briddy pushed the Muckeel off, only to have another grip that hand, and another wrap itself over her knees, which she kicked away. The more she fought, the faster they came, bodies upon dripping bodies oozing over her, wrapping around limbs in inhuman loops as she tried to resist until finally, Bridget lost her balance, and was consumed under a pile of writhing creatures.
Every part of her was covered, surrounded by these convulsing monstrosities, and Briddy could barely find air as their muck covered her like a slimy cocoon. Each breath was a battle, her hands fighting to keep free, to get to her face to wipe her mouth clear so she could gasp for air. Revulsion pulsed through her, but she lacked the physical strength to push them away, and any hope of a spell was gone. The monstrosities’ secretions slicked over her, blocking out her senses.
There was no taste save for dirt, no sound except her pulsing heart within her ears. She didn’t even know how much time had passed as she sat there, surrounded by the Muckeels, screaming silently and restrained. All she could do was wipe, gasp, yank her hand free, and repeat. Bridget was moments from cracking, her body tired, her mind close to the shoals breaking down. All around her, she could feel the long, muscled bodies of the Muckeels pressing in, their mud and weight gluing her into place, crushing out the last sparks of fight left in her.
“You’re not alone.” Gail’s voice whispered in the back of her mind, and Briddy could've sworn she saw a faint silver glimmer in the nothingness. Suddenly, there was a great boom, and the building shuddered, startling Bridget from her misery. The Muckeels thrashed around her for a moment, beginning to still until there was another booming shudder. Flailing against the monstrosities that squirmed at the sound, Bridget tried one last time to free herself. Her only reward was her hand plunging into one of the Muckeel's eye sockets, the hole sucking wetly at her fingers as she fought to get them free of its slime.
Her stomach trying to rid itself of the bile that arose at the sensation, Briddy was forced to swallow both her nausea and the truth of the matter at this point. She was alone, and the only help she was getting was the strength she already had.
Closing her eyes, she tried to focus past the convulsing bodies, past the slick muck that coated every inch of her body and matted her hair, past the stifling pressure that weighed heavy and kept her from moving even an inch.
Vex…
A barrier of mud answered her within, dripping and stifling as she tried to reach out.
Bridget considered it, momentarily fascinated. When she had first tried to reach out to Vex and found an obstacle in the way, her focus had been on running from the Muckeels. Now she was able to afford her full attention.
Vex? The attempt at connection flung out and struck the barrier she had sensed, her thoughts sticking to it before sinking in, absorbing into nothing. Yet, even as it faded, she could feel that bits and pieces of her were seeping through with just that simple query, in a way not dissimilar to another wall she had dealt with. An idea sparked, and Bridget wished she could take a deep breath, or roll her neck; it was hard to steel oneself when restrained. She settled for a good old wipe and gasp.
Her brow creasing against the mud that sat there, Briddy focused every bit of her will, honed her intent upon the voice that she had come to recognize as part of herself.
Vex.
Like mud in the summer sun, the barrier between them shattered to pieces, for it paled in comparison to the ones that they had already overcome together.
Bridget.
POP.
A sucking snap of air whacked across her, sending Bridget tumbling down with a golden sword in her arms, and Muckeels flying in all directions like a bowl of giant brown noodles had been upended. When she landed on cold, metal ground, Briddy whipped her head around, waiting for them to return. When they did not, she squinted into the nothingness and then reached a careful hand out, yanking it back almost immediately. As she sucked on wind-stung fingertips, Bridget marvelled at this turn of events. It seemed she was sitting in a small pocket of air, whipping around the relic whose hilt she cradled towards the ceiling.
Vex..how?
You called.
But–Bridget raised her dripping head, shaking the filth free from her ears. She heard the wet slap of something heavy hitting the wall nearby, and flinched. This magic.
I could do more, were there not so many.
Dragging herself up, Briddy put the sword’s point on the floor. Thank you.
Another body hit the wall nearby, and a startled sob escaped her. She hadn’t realized how tired she was, now filthy, and sick of everything going wrong. This had merely been the latest stone in a road paved with misery.
You will not walk it alone. Vex promised her. Never alone.
Bridget crumpled, wrapping her arms around the relic as though holding the figure of comfort she'd never had. She remained in air and darkness with her tears until a great creaking and crunching brought the window of yellow illumination back into the muddy room. Raising her head from where it was resting in the crook of Vex’s crossguard, she blearily peered through her swollen eyes at the square of light. Was the door…bent?
“Vasiliy?!” There was a note of something in the headmistress’ voice that tore Bridget’s attention away from the damaged architecture. Standing in the doorway, Terna was looking at her with a furrowed brow, zeroing in entirely on the sword she was currently embracing. Almost instinctively, Briddy clutched Vex even tighter to her chest. She could see the Muckeels shifting in a sea of oblong bodies between the pocket of whipping air where she knelt and the exit, and wasn’t entirely sure whether she wanted to leave or not.
“How in all of Sculptor’s creation–” The headmistress's head snapped around to look at something over her shoulder. In Briddy’s arms, Vex began to fade, hard metal softening to velvet mist under her fingers.
Vex? Come back! Fear gripped her, quickening to panic when the air began to die.
You do not need me any longer. Stand up, Bridget.
Fearfully glancing around at the eyeless heads of the Muckeels that were rapidly closing in around her, Briddy tried to do just that.
What do you mean, I don’t need you? Look at these things!
Flicking her still-pristine shroud out of the way, Bridget got her balance just as the sword disappeared, along with the pocket of air. Gritting her teeth against the mud that began rushing in, she started forging towards the door.
You said wouldn’t leave me alone. She growled.
And you aren’t. Bridget could’ve sworn she detected a hint of amusement in the relic’s words but chose to focus on the Muckeel that attached itself to her midsection.
“Why haven’t you gotten her out of there yet!?” A voice cried, and Bridget lifted her head just in time to see Asher's and Gail's heads appeared behind Terna’s shoulder. Relief flooded her, and she struggled free of the creature. Gail made as if to come help her, but the headmistress captured her collar and redirected her with calm precision (and a flat palm between the shoulders) back outside. While she was occupied with Gail, Asher darted in, leaping into the mud without hesitation. Fishing out his staff, he strode toward her, swatting away Muckeels with the end until they met halfway. Briddy nearly toppled into his arms when he gave her a brief hug before tugging her towards the door, but the Muckeel sucking at her shoe was more than enough motivation to leave.
With Asher shepherding Bridget under one arm, the pair exited into a full-blown shouting match between Gail and Terna. They stood beside the brass door, which was now badly damaged, a deep crater dug into its middle, folding the metal around it like shining folds of fabric. Still dripping in muck from the eels, Briddy let Asher lead her to a corner behind the administrative desks, where they collapsed onto the floor. The skeletal secretary was nowhere in sight, a mess of papers usually stacked and sorted was now sprayed across the desk and floor, fluttering about in the tempest that waged between Terna and Gail. In the distance, a small bug made of gas poofed out of existence, as if it too could not wait to escape the room.
Trembling, Bridget reached a hand out, catching one of the scattered white pages in her muddy fingers and dully looking at the brown marks they left behind. She raised her eyes towards the argument, and began picking up a few words about destruction of school property.
"Let's get you cleaned up a bit." Asher tilted her chin back towards him, his blue eyes gently crinkling at the corners. "Saniz."
Briddy looked down just as he put his hand on top of her forearm, a wave of berry-blue sparks wicking away at the dirt beneath it. Sculptor, she could feel the ground again, the whisper-silken touch of fabric, the buzzing sting of her newly cleansed body. She was still rubbing her hands when the spell raced up to clear her face, fuzziness racing through her nose and unblocking her sense of smell, leaving her sneezing from the sensation and nearly crying from the ability to smell again. Leaning in and taking a deep, greedy, inhale, Bridget reveled in the clean, sharp aroma of– her eyes snapped open.
Asher cocked an eyebrow and grinned.
Flushing furiously, Bridget straightened, smoothing back the hair left clean, but limp by the spell and readjusted her silver clip. "What uh…" She swallowed as his grin grew. "The door?" Briddy gestured over at the concave metal.
Asher studied her eyes for a long moment before lazily letting his gaze slide to the side, leaning back on his hands.
Following the look, Bridget saw he was focused on Gail's fists, still covered in her oversized, layered relic gauntlets. Her eyes widened as she took in the clenched metal fingers, and then the brass they had folded like paper. Just as her lips were rounding to form another question, the headmistress snapped.
“You want to go in there, girl!? Then hold your tongue!” Terna waved a hand, and the crumpled door crammed itself back into place.
Working her jaw, Gail let the layers of her relic slide back, revealing her fists underneath. She flexed her fingers, slowly. “Why not? If we’re just rounding up anyone who doesn’t deserve to be there–”
“It is not you place to question the disciplinary methods of this school–”
“--and you don’t want any alive left afterward...”
Bridget and Asher simultaneously sucked air through their teeth. The headmistress’ face darkened.
“You overestimate your reliance on your magic, girl.” Terna drew her shoulders back, seeming to tower over Gail despite the fact that the girl had nearly an entire head on the older woman. “If you think that is something achieved by your own hands.” She flicked at the entrance to the Muckeel enclosure. “Too often a decorative hilt thinks itself the whole weapon.”
Gail’s eyes narrowed, and she leaned in. “You think I need magic? I’d love to feel your little pets go pop in my bare hands.” Bridget couldn’t help but feel some fear for her friend when she heard the challenge in her hiss.
Terna’s mouth drooped like an unimpressed old man leaning over a porch stoop, waiting to see if Gail had any more bravado to spew. Deflating under her expression, Gail ground her mouth shut. Terna flicked her eyes over to where Asher and Bridget had huddled in the corner, wordlessly sending Gail storming across the room to throw herself down beside them on the floor.
Briddy looked at her, and Gail leaned over and bumped her shoulder into hers. “You all right, Trouble?” Bridget shook her head. She didn’t even want to look at the battered door of the Muckeel room, but her thoughts quickly leapt through, into a symphony of squishing bodies and squelching muck. She shuddered.
“Silence. Do you really think another mess needs to be created before we resolve this current catastrophe you and Mr. Miltark are in?” The headmistress marched over to them, pulling down on the bottom of her grey wool suit. “Blasting into my office barking about injustice, vaulting across administration like a pair of brutish vigilantes, nearly battering a door in, not to mention the use of an illicit experimental Gaspspider potion–”
Briddy turned in horror towards Asher, who was innocently fascinated with the beige ceiling.
“Don’t know why everyone’s looking at me.” He said after Terna cleared her throat. “Could’ve come from anywhere.”
“We wouldn’t have had to if you would’ve listened! Briddy shouldn’t have been–” Gail began hotly.
“As your headmistress, my call was final. You, all three of you, are students, not hunters, Miss Karipif. When you study here, you respect the chain of command.” Terna looked down at them.
Bridget’s blood boiled. She had just gotten punished, and here she was, getting lectured, again. “Respectfully, ma’am, for the chain of command to be respected, it has to protect us first.”
Terna gave her a long, hard look that she returned. “Quiet.” The headmistress drew out the second syllable of the word. “This is a reprimand, not an academic debate, Vasily.” As if to cut off any reply, she added, “For all three of you.”
Asher and Gail looked over at Bridget and then at each other with questioning stares. She shrugged, just as baffled. Hadn’t the detention been enough punishment for Niles’ wounded ego?
Terna clasped her hands behind her back, looking each of them in the face in turn. “Breaking more rules to help a friend who is already being punished for breaking the rules is helping nothing.”
She held up a hand. “No matter what you two say happened, or Mr. Sanlaurant says happened, the fact remains that a student was attacked, there was a culprit, and following with school rules, a punishment needs be handed down. So this circus,” She waved at the scattered papers, and now that Bridget noticed, bits of broken glass on the floor. “Is at an end. It has helped nothing, much as Miss Vasily did when she summoned her relic while being punished for summoning her relic. In the middle of pit of Muckeels, no less.”
Asher’s head whipped around as he looked at her. “How?” He mouthed in awe.
“I was panicking–”
“The connection should have been suppressed.” Terna clipped through. “So to repeat Mr. Miltark’s question, Miss Vasily, how did you manage to use magic while surrounded by creatures whose very presence negates it?”
Bridget’s mouth went dry as she became keenly aware of how fixated everyone’s eyes were, tearing through the bits of her as they looked for the answers they wanted. She wished she could just reach out to Vex and push it all away, just as they had with the Muckeels, not have to put words to something private that was being pried away at brick by brick like a...Bridget paused, blinking and looking up at Terna.
“When you say suppression…”
“Sculptor be good girl, I thought you studied the Muckeels.”
“Do you mean the wall?”
It was the first time she had ever seen the headmistress pause, a look of utter confusion crinkling her brow together like an accordion. “Wall? What…wall?”
Bridget looked over at Gail, to see if she knew what she was talking about, but Gail too, held a furrowed expression.
“I–the wall! The one that gets in your way when you summon?” She spoke directly to her friend, but Gail leaned back, her expression changing as though she was looking at a stranger. Slowly, she shook her head. Bewildered, Briddy turned back around to Asher. “The wall that stops you from summoning at first, but once you break through it you can always get through?” He just looked lost, but then again, he was the only one in the room who had never wielded a relic.
Desperately, Bridget looked at Terna. “With the Muckeels, it felt like that wall that’s always been there, only more flimsy. I just…pushed through it.”
The headmistress crossed her arms, resting her chin in one of them. “Just like that?”
Briddy hesitantly nodded.
“Always been there?” Gail echoed softly behind her.
“No, no, I mean, it's just like any other skill, you get better at it the more you do it, it’s just my difficulties with summoning, that’s all.”
“Mm-mm.” Briddy turned to find Gail shaking her head, her eyes wide. “It’s not.” Her friend said.
“It sounds as though your connection to your relic has been suppressed from the start,” Terna stated. Her voice was firm, but not unkind.
“What are you saying?” Bridget said, biting down on her back teeth after she finished speaking. A hysterical laugh was threatening to rise at the back of her throat.
“That you’ve formed an atypical connection with your relic as a result.” The headmistress replied calmly.
A thousand questions swirled around inside her, knocking about and threatening to push the laugh loose. Terna couldn’t be serious, could she?
“And so, what, how did this happen?” She couldn’t keep the derisiveness from launching the tone of her voice high.
“Briddy,” Asher murmured beside her, rubbing her arm.
She pulled away. “You know it all then, tell us!” she demanded, the corners of her eyes pricking wet. Terna met them, and Bridget had never despised her more than she had when the look of pity bloomed across her face. “For the bond to be affected in this manner, it would only be possible two ways: either by the relic itself, or its current wielder.”
There was no taking back those words, nor the effect they had on Bridget. Her stomach dropped, and she sank small where she sat. Asher and Gail both leaned forward, reaching for her hand, and paused once they spotted the other. An awkward air began to harden into something else, but Briddy wasn’t staying to find out what. Pushing up, she walked out from behind the desk of Administration, and towards the tall door. Fresh air. She just needed some fresh air.
And answers.
Vex?
Bridget.
Is it true?
…I cannot answer you this.
Bridget stumbled, placing a hand flat on the enormous doors to the building. She barely remembered reaching them. I think you have.
Gulping at the blessedly dry air outside, Bridget made it a few steps around the side of the building before she slid down in the shade, her back to the stone. It wasn’t long before Asher and Gail came out, spotting and joining her on the ground. She looked at them, and they gave her matching grim smiles before settling in and silently staring off into the distance. Bridget joined, squinting at the forest magically grown around the dormitory houses.
She wasn’t alone, she was with her friends, and yet inside she found solitude in a new struggle with the bond that she had with Vex, who grew closer by the day, but whose presence she was becoming increasingly less able to trust. For what lay ahead, the only help she could truly rely upon was her own strength, and that in the bonds she had forged and fought for herself.
Bridget shivered, suddenly cold and damp despite the heat. She could feel muck sticking underneath her clothes, dripping across her skin and dirtying everything it touched. It served as a stark reminder that the summoning earlier, the moment she had thought was a victory in her bond with Vex, was really just a battle in a war that had started before she even set foot in school.