Rebel Academy: Crave

Chapter Twelve MAGENTA

In all the excitement of being freed from Hecate’s Tree and reborn again as a human (well, more of a witch and ghost hybrid, but it’d been the Rebel’s first ritual, these things happened), I’d forgotten how it’d felt to be alive.

How had I ever survived? My stomach growled like I’d already eaten a bear cub, a twinge of pain lanced through my lower back, and my nose itched. Plus, had my bosoms always been this big…? I jiggled them in my corset.

I would not be defeated by my own bosoms.

But then, I glanced up and caught Fox watching me with an amused expression. With a tilt of my head (because a lady must always act with grace and elegance), I gave a final wriggle, before focusing back on Damelza, who sat behind her study desk. Fox and I stood on the other side because there were no comfortable seats for chastised students, of course.

Fox and I had been called at the punishment hour of 5 a.m. to present ourselves to the Principal. I’d heard my mother summon plenty of Rebels to her like this, but it’d never happened to me before. Being a witch of the House of Crows had some perks.

Last night, I’d been assaulted by such a sudden burst of sound, smell, and touch that I’d been lost in a haze. I hadn’t even been able to talk, as someone had bundled me in warm coats and then carried me as carefully as a new-born back into the castle. I’d woken up in the morning in the middle of a tangle of Immortals, to the cawing of crows who weren’t mine and a summons to the study like I no longer deserved the protection of belonging to the House of Crows.

My nose wrinkled at the powerful aroma of garlic from the shrine to Hecate, which had been built under the narrow window. Dawn struggled to light the shadowy study. I studied my descendant, who reclined with such authority in the blood-red leather chair that would’ve been mine, if I’d married Titus. But even for a chair as spectacularly special as that, nothing was worth marrying a fae.

Damelza’s mouth turned up in a sly self-satisfied curve, although the skin underneath her eyes was purpled like she hadn’t slept at all last night.

My heart clenched at the sight of the obsidian desk that glittered like Damelza’s dress. Its top was cobbled with crow skulls. I remembered running my hands over them as a child on the few occasions that Byron had been ill, meaning that Henrietta had grudgingly allowed me to play in here as she’d worked, rather than in the Bird Turret nursery.

It hit me then, stronger even than the stink of garlic that pervaded the dark room that was stacked with books and potions, that the people I’d once loved were dead.

Of course, after a hundred years I’d known that they had to be but…being back here…it didn’t matter that I’d been granted life again.

Robin and Byron were still dead.

When my knees buckled, Fox caught my elbow. The shock of his touch tingled through me. My skin was aflame. How incredible it was that such simple contact, after so long being denied to me, could now send tears tumbling down my cheeks.

I was truly alive and I was back in the Rebel Academy.

When Fox’s gaze met mine, it was soft and understanding. Yet why didn’t he understand the danger that he was in?

All of a sudden, my heart beat so hard in my chest that I thought it’d break my ribcage. How did anyone breathe with such a wild creature inside them?

“I’ve only just found you,” Fox whispered, drawing me closer. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’m actually Lancelot in disguise. This R on my hand doesn’t stand for Random but Renowned.”

“Renowned liar?” I teased.

Fox winked. “Renowned and unreformed liar.”

I couldn’t help the snort.

“If you’ve quite finished flirting on my time with the wickedest witch to ever live...” Damelza coiled her silver blond hair around her finger. She didn’t look up from the thick file that lay open in front of her.

I pushed myself away from Fox and onto my tiptoes to squint at the file.

Hmm, maybe if I cast a Reading Upside Down Spell…?

Fox shrugged. “How do you know that she was the wickedest? There must be some stiff competition. Is there like a Wicked Witch Contest each year with rosettes awarded and…?”

“You truly have no understanding of the term thin ice, do you?” Damelza still hadn’t looked up from my file or acknowledged that I was in the room, as if I was still an invisible ghost.

I’d take great delight in teaching her that I’d no longer be treated in such a way.

“I really don’t.” Fox bit his lip like he was trying to force himself not to say anything else.

This mage could talk himself into trouble with a coven under a Peace Spell, and they were even compelled to be kind to vampires, spiders, and mime artists.

Damelza fiddled with the feather behind her ear, which she’d used to slice Fox’s cheek. “This academy has a reputation to uphold.” She pointed at the far war, which sparkled beneath the RA crest with alternating pink and black motivational slogans, which were carved underneath the scrolling:

I cocked my head. “Am I not wicked enough then?”

At last, Damelza’s sharp gaze snapped to mine. “That depends if even half the stories my grandmother told about you were true.”

I narrowed my eyes. “It’s rude to listen to gossip.”

In turn, Damelza narrowed her eyes, which was weirdly like seeing myself in an evil mirror. “And it’s rude to become a rogue witch, be burned alive, and then be born again just before term starts. Do you have any idea how much paperwork is involved in running this place?”

“My apologies, next time I’ll choose a more convenient stage in the university year,” I drawled. “Although, if it’s any consolation, I appear to be still part ghost. It’s perfectly exciting that I get to name a new species: what do you think to Ghost Witch?”

“Do you suppose that I shall let there be a next time?”

“Don’t kill her.” When Fox slammed his palms down on the desk, I jumped in shock. Fox appeared to have surprised himself as well, quailing under Damelza’s cool look. He wet his lips, before carefully removing his hands from the desk, whilst pretending to give the skulls a polish. “Or me. Okay, I have strong feelings about killing us both.”

Damelza glanced between us. “Then what does my snared fox suggest? I know that it’ll be a struggle for your small brain, mage, but don’t let it be said that I don’t encourage all my students.”

I winced, but Fox didn’t even react like he was too used to being seen as less. My hands curled into fists; that was going to change.

Fox sneaked a glance at me. “Make her the third Immortal. She’s this rogue witch, right? You’ll have to make her a Rebel because I get that you’re not keen on her showing up to take over the family again.” When Damelza blanched, Fox smiled. “Yeah, I’m a P.I in disguise, and your dead relative is back for her claim to the castle.”

“You’re a pain in my witchy behind,” Damelza muttered, “and this isn’t Magenta who was declared Blessedly Charmed. It’s…” She paused, thoughtfully, “…Crow, who’s decidedly Wickedly Charmed.”

“How about a DNA test?” Fox demanded.

Damelza’s smile was dangerous. “How about a fox hunt?”

I snatched Fox’s hand, dragging him closer to me. His heart was thudding too rapidly in his chest, but he still squeezed my hand like he understood that I needed to feel that I wasn’t alone in this battle.

I shook at the thought of Robin walled up in the dark. How long had he been alone before he’d died?

When Fox’s thumb rubbed circles on the back of my hand, I wished that I wasn’t wearing my gloves, so that I could feel the deliciousness of his touch. I loved that in this age there was such intimacy and that it could mean love in so many ways: comfort, understanding, and connection.

I craved to feel alive.

When my stomach rumbled again, I pinked. Fox’s scent of raspberries was driving me mad. I couldn’t touch him with my hands, but I wasn’t living in the Victorian age any longer, and I had other body parts that were unclothed. It hadn’t been possible to live with Flair and his vivid descriptions of the Rebels’ passion and not learn a trick or two. When I nuzzled my cheek against Fox’s, he flushed. Then he relaxed against me with a soft smile. Encouraged, I nosed along his jawline. Then I had the sudden impulse to lick down his neck.

“Mages aren’t lollipops,” Damelza chided.

I froze. “I’m simply hungry.”

For the first time in over a century, I could eat. For all these years, I’d been tormented by the memory of food that I’d never taste again but now… Oysters, roast duck, cranberry tart with cream, and a cup of tea…

Fox sighed. “Only the Princes get treats like lollipops.”

My dream feast shattered.

On Hecate’s tit, hadn’t Fox said something in the glade about the luxury food being locked away in a special larder? I clenched my jaw. No matter how much I desired those treats, I’d never ask the fae prince for a favor. Although, there was also Prince Willoughby, and if Flair’s crush was based on more than the elf’s pretty hair and prettier voice, then perhaps there was a way to persuade the Princes to share their food.

I wouldn’t let my Immortals be starved any longer.

I delighted, however, in the chance to try Fox’s specialty and the food of kings: a crisp sandwich.

“I’m about to say something that breaks every one of my beliefs.” What in the name of Hecate was Damelza about to tell us? Had she changed her entire outlook on mages? Had the bravery of my men broken her prejudiced view that the Rebels were broken? “The mage is right: you should become an Immortal.”

Well, baby steps.

Fox ducked his head, but I didn’t miss the way that he was struggling to smother his smile.

The small brained mage had just outfoxed the Principal.

“This is your sentence and punishment. I hope that you’re overwhelmed with the shame of becoming the first witch (and one of our prestigious House), to become a student here,” Damelza scolded.

“Oh yes, I’m quite ruined…the shame…” I gasped, holding my hand against my forehead as if I was about to faint.

Fox held me up around my waist and hid his snicker against my neck.

“Don’t think to escape.” Damelza held up her finger warningly. As if I would without my lovers. “It’s against protocol to ask Hecate to brand a witch, but if you decide to go for walkies, I’ll simply punish the whipping boy who you like to lick.”

I straightened, stiffening. I’d seen the shrewd look, which Damelza was using to assess me, before on mother, as she’d studied Robin and me.

Damelza would exploit my attachment, and it’d destroy me.

I pushed away from Fox, despite his hurt expression. “He’s not my whipping boy.”

“Since I’m appointing you Prefect of the Immortals, you’ll find that you’re in fact responsible and in charge of both the Immortals and the whipping boy who they’re patron to.” Damelza’s lips pinched. “Crown is the academy’s only other Prefect, so you’ll have to work closely with him.”

“Crown…?” I asked.

“Prince Lysander.”

“No,” I barked, before I could stop myself.

“No, you didn’t curse the academy so that I spent my childhood shivering, the boys here freeze in their Wings, and we all wade through nothing but snow and ice because of you…?”

I shrank against the wall. She was right. My power in its loss and grief had done that.

I’d condemned every Rebel and witch to suffer alongside me.

Damelza’s fingers tapped on the armrests. “Just one more thing. Crave is special. The Duchess who was once bonded with him is my guest this week and will be inspecting him to see if the sharp shock of his time with us has helped him see the errors of his rebellious nature, which means that he must remain unbonded and pure.”

The breath caught in my throat. Who was this Duchess? If she’d once been bonded to Bask, she certainly wasn’t now. Yet she wanted to inspect him like he was still her property?

Was she attempting to claim him back?

Fox stared at Damelza. “Pure, as in: we can’t touch him?”

Damelza’s expression hardened. “We must respect incubi culture.”

“Why?” I hadn’t seen Fox’s gaze so steely before. “I don’t respect some bitch who thinks that she owns Bask. Loving someone won’t make him dirty.”

Damelza yawned. “Your self-righteousness is tiring, Confess, I’m bored, and your brands have already been set so that you can’t touch him.”

Fox gasped. “But he’s an incubus. It’s torture for him not to be touched.”

“The Princes have offered to massage him so that he can still function.” She waved her hand. “A separate bed has been added into the West Wing.”

I eyed her. “How charmingly naïve that you’re prepared to simply trust me.”

Damelza snorted. “I wouldn’t trust you, if you shaved your head and became a devout acolyte to Hecate.”

Damelza clicked her fingers, and I shrieked, as an electric charge hit me, vibrating across my skin. My legs buckled, and I fell to my knees on the thick carpet.

Vaguely, I heard shouting (Fox defending me just as if he was Lancelot, although without the sword), and at last the hex stopped. I shuddered, and even my gums tingled.

“Just a little something that I developed last night to keep you at least three inches apart from Crave at all times, otherwise you’ll be given an electric shock. Look but don’t touch; you should be used to that,” Damelza crowed. Dazedly, I realized why she had shadows under her eyes. She must’ve stayed up last night working on the spell, which had already seeped through my skin and into my bones. It felt heavy and wrong. “Now onto the whipping boy’s punishment because I don’t want you to miss your first classes.”

“Woah, I thought that I was the one with the bright idea…? Why don’t we say this has all worked out and give that student a reward?” Fox flashed Damelza a winning smile.

Damelza pushed herself up, pressing on the wall behind her, which slid open to reveal a trophy: The Rebel Cup. I’d watched from the window of the Bird Turret, as it’d been presented below in the grounds at the end of the first week each term. It was a huge obsidian trophy, which was in the shape of a dragon. The dragon’s tail wound around the cup and back into its flaming mouth.

Fox whistled. “I was only expecting a gold star.”

Damelza caressed the snout of the dragon. “The Rebel Cup is a cherished tradition. To the parents of the Princes, it’s a cause of great pride if they win. Every day, either the Immortals or the Princes will win a contest, and at the end of the week, the overall winner will be awarded the Rebel Cup at the Dragon Polo Tournament.”

How many times had I wished to be allowed to be part of this tradition? But now, dread pooled in me at the creepy satisfaction in Damelza’s smile.

Ah, the advantages of thinking like a witch.

“So, I’m banned from taking part?” Fox rocked on his heels. “Yeah, I’m heartbroken. How about I take my sobbing self back to the West Wing?”

“On the contrary, yours is the most essential role.” Damelza’s fingers closed like claws around the Rebel Cup. “Curse and you, the whipping boys, have just become the stakes.” Her glance at me was triumphant. “As punishment for resurrecting Crow, whichever team loses the contest, shall have their whipping boy executed.”

Lightheaded, my vision dimmed. I staggered, as I forgot that I needed to breathe.

I couldn’t have been brought to life, simply for the mage to die. I couldn’t cause another’s death again.

My legs melted into mists and then my hands. This time, however, the fading was my choice. A cold wind blasted through the study, tossing my file like paper crows furiously across the room and pecking against Damelza’s face in retaliation. Fox watched in awe. Damelza waved her hand, and the wall closed with a snap, shielding the Rebel Cup.

“I’m terribly sorry,” my eyes glowed with raging flames, “but you shan’t hurt either whipping boy.”

I thrust my black mists to crush Damelza, but she shrugged them off like they were nothing but a summer breeze. I stared at her in shock. My strength coursed through my ghost form. Was she truly so much stronger than me?

My word, that was frightening.

“The professors wear charms, so that we can’t use our powers against them,” Fox muttered. “Her Anti-Me one is the feather in her hair.”

Deflated, I drew back my mists.

Damelza chuckled. “The Anti-You one I also invented last night and cast on all the professors. I’ve always been especially talented at charms. Is your tantrum over now?”

“I won’t permit you to kill him,” I growled.

“Hecate above, are you as dim as the mage?” Damelza sighed. “If you wish him to live, then win the Rebel Cup.”

Fox sidled closer to Damelza. “Look, this is my punishment. I’ve been a bad fox, I get it. But why drag this other poor bastard into it? Couldn’t he just be put into Time Out or something if the Princes lose?”

For the first time, Damelza’s smile was genuine. “See, you’re learning already. Curse is a pathetic excuse for a Fallen, but the Princes appear to take pleasure in the games that they play with him.” I shuddered at the same time as Fox. “I’m in a generous mood. If they lose, I’ll only break his wings.”

Why, my family were truly the spirit of generosity.

“Cheers, you’re a saint,” Fox gritted out.

“Now, I have private business with Confess.” When the study door clicked open, Damelza’s chuckle was dark and low. “It’s time for you to fade out.”

I yelled in shock, as I was blown out of the room into the stone gallery beyond, before the door slammed in my face. I caught a final glimpse of Fox’s pale face, before he was shut in alone with the Principal.

Outraged, I banged on the study door, but I had a feeling that even that had been muted.

I’d been turned invisible yet again.

Then there was a sudden hoarse cawing at the open windowsill, and joy hit me so hard that I struggled not to cry.

“I thought that I’d lost you.” I rushed to sit next to Flair and Echo who hopped onto my lap. Echo rubbed his head against me with as much desperation as I stroked through his feathers. “How can I still see and touch you?”

“Now isn’t that the question, boss. But I’m happy as a pig in shit that you can.” When Flair pecked my finger, I knew that it was as close to a kiss as he could get.

I cuddled Echo tighter, and he wrapped his wings around me.

“Would you’ve forgotten us like everybody else?” Echo asked, softly.

I bit my lip. “Never. Who’d forget your superb singing voice?”

When Echo preened, Flair snorted.

“So, are you human now?” Flair asked.

“I’m something that’s caught between the living and dead, only this time I’m closer to the living side.” I scrunched up my nose. “The Rebels weren’t dreadfully experienced with magic, and resurrection is a tricky business.”

Flair’s scaly claws bit into me, as he circled in my lap looking for a comfortable spot to settle down. “Does that make you a zombie?”

“Do you want to eat brains?” Echo offered, helpfully.

“Mother once had pigs brains served for supper.” I shivered. “It was most unpleasant.”

“If you have no craving for brains, why aren’t you riding those Rebels and letting your bouncy bosoms out to have some fun for the first time in…forever?” Flair demanded.

“Firstly, I’m magically unable to even touch Bask. Secondly, Fox is trapped in there with the Principal, and thirdly,” surely, I deserved a little boast, “a Prefect does have duties, you know.”

“Hark at her, la di da!” Flair fell onto his feathery back, kicking his legs in a way that was disconcertingly close to his wanking impression. “Just give her a Prefect badge and suddenly it’s all: where do you want me to bend over, ma’am?”

“There wasn’t a badge,” I muttered. “In fact, I don’t even get a uniform.”

Echo stroked his wing along my cheek, and I leaned into the touch. “My Magenta hasn’t changed. I trust her.”

I glanced back at the closed door. Damelza thought that she could tame me with a couple of spells and charms. Yet my magic ran through the entire academy. From my birth, it’d woven these grounds, creating the wards and spells. I’d cursed it for decades.

I was choosing to play their tamed Prefect for the sake of my lovers, but only until I could find a way to free them. When I’d lived here before, it’d been on the other side, as the part of the coven in charge. Now I was here as one of the students. Yet, I was still me.

Even if I couldn’t protect Fox from whatever was happening within the study, I could watch over him.

I nudged my familiars off my knee as I stood up. “Witches aren’t meant to care for their familiars, but I love you both deeply, you do know that?”

Echo fluttered his wings, which pulsed pink. He rubbed his head against my ankle.

Flair cawed. “And you’re all right for a witch, boss.”

“He means that we love you too,” Echo whispered.

I grinned, focusing on fading entirely. The sensation was odd like unraveling myself thread by thread. Then I floated to the study door. I took a deep breath.

Please let this work…

I whooshed through the thick door, exploding through the other side. I expected a howl of outrage from Damelza, but she only continued to talk with a quiet intensity to Fox.

I was invisible again. My pulse pounded at the thought that I wouldn’t be able to reverse it. Bubbling cauldrons, what if I was stuck like this? I forced the thought away, wrapping myself around Fox. He stiffened, as if he could sense me, before relaxing into my touch in the delicious way that he had.

His frown became a smile. He knew that I was there, and he was no longer alone.

If I couldn’t save him yet, then I could at least grant him that.

“…even I hadn’t imagined that your criminality extended to corrupting your own family to demand your release against the wishes of your House,” Damelza finished with a flourish.

Fox’s face lit up with painful hope; it was beautiful but as fragile as the snowdrops in my glade. “My sister’s trying to free me?” He impatiently brushed a stray curl behind his ear. “Hartley’s come for me?”

“Why would the only heir to the House of Jewels, and your mother’s darling,” when Fox winced, I stroked across his cheek, “ever release her mage brother? Have you no sense of honor? The witch outside the wards, who’s giving me yet another headache at the start of term, is your cousin. Do you wish to enlighten me on why?”

“L-lux?” Fox stuttered, paling. Whoever his cousin was, who’d been unusually flooded with kindness towards Fox, he still feared her. He’d also tried to hide the way that disappointment had ripped through him on hearing that his would-be rescuer wasn’t his sister, yet he shook with it. “Cheers for the laugh, but the only thing that Lux would want with me would be as a punch bag, subject for experimentation, or as someone to play with her broken Omegas.”

Damelza prowled around the desk, and I backed against the wall, just in case she could sense me. “I don’t care if she wants you to play Romeo in a jazz version of Romeo and Juliet, I don’t simply release students unreformed. No one leaves here who hasn’t graduated, unless they win a special contest, Tournament, or at my great benevolence. Most who do graduate are offered teaching positions because usually nobody wants them back. You’re here because you’re too dangerous to allow out into society.”

“I don’t need my power to know that’s a lie. Why’d you let this Duchess into the castle to paw at Bask then? Why’s she different to my family?”

“Because she’s the one who signed Crave into the academy with a special understanding that is none of your business,” Damelza snapped. “But your cousins appear to believe that if they pressure the House of Crows, where no one but Hecate has held sway for centuries, then I’ll let you go. Your mother is the one who registered your place here, and not your cousins. I don’t have to bow down to Lux, simply because she’s now Head of the Oxford covens. The House of Crows is above witch law and tradition.”

“Cousins?” Fox’s voice was tentatively hopeful again. My guts roiled, and this time I knew that it was neither guilt nor hunger making it churn. I was confused by the desperate desire to hold onto Fox, and at the same time, the need to let him go. This could be his best chance to escape. He had to take it. Please, let these cousins help him. “As in, Lux and her twin, Aquilo?”

“Huh, you imagine that I’d count her mage brother?” When Fox stilled, Damelza pressed closer, until their noses were almost touching. She scrutinized his deliberately blank face. “Lux even allowed him to try and break through our wards. He’s powerful, isn’t he? Are you hiding his level of magic behind that mouth of yours?”

Fox’s smile was strained. “More like, behind my balls. And haven’t I introduced myself? I’m Merlin.”

Damelza only leaned closer. “Then it’s a good thing that I have both you and Aquilo by the balls. No one’s getting through the wards, even if they’re Merlin…or a god. And your cousins have one of those tamed. The angelic god rants and flaps his glittery wings, which I can’t wait to pluck.” I flinched at the same time as Fox. “If they don’t take the hint and leave, then I’ll have to decide that they’re all Rebels. I’ll lower the wards, allow them to arrogantly waltz in here and then…” When she clapped her hands together, Fox and I both jumped. Damelza’s eyes glittered maliciously. “I’ll raise the wards again, and they’ll be trapped the same as any Rebel.”

“Please, don’t,” Fox gasped, before promising in a rush, “I didn’t ask them to save me. What do you want me to do?”

Damelza’s smile widened. “Write them a letter. Tell them how happy you are to be here and how much you don’t want to leave. If you’re lucky, they’ll respect that. You love your family, don’t you? I thought that the one talent you at least excelled in was lying.”

Fox’s eyes were bright with tears. I quivered, glaring at Damelza. How dare she use Fox’s power against him to tear him apart from his family.

How many families had tried to take back their children or changed their minds only to discover that it was too late? I’d always thought that the Rebels were abandoned here but perhaps, the House of Crows had tricked just as many people to make it look like that?

My eyes became flinty, as I studied the way that Fox lowered his head before Damelza. Discovering the academy’s secrets had shot right up my To-Do list, just beneath surviving the start of term.

“They’ll work it out,” Fox said, quietly. “Aquilo knows me too well.”

With a flourish, Damelza snatched a peacock feather off her desk, before grabbing Fox’s hand and rubbing the feather over it. “The effect only lasts a few minutes, but now you can only tell the truth.”

“With my hand?” Fox ventured.

Damelza clutched him by the wrist, wiggling his fingers in the air in front of him. “Whatever you write here, they’ll see in front of them and know that it’s the truth. So, be creative.”

Fox swallowed, before glancing to where I leaned against the wall. He could sense me. I curled out strands of mist to wrap around his ankles, although it did look weirdly like he’d walked into a hag’s cave, but it appeared to anchor him. Then even though his face was etched in grief, he wrote in curling script:

Fox’s finger wavered, shaking so hard that he could no longer write. His face was wet with tears, and when I reached up to touch my cheeks, so was mine.

Locked in the attic? Happy that he hadn’t been whipped? I shuddered at the thought of the life that Fox must’ve led before, if the academy in truth meant freedom to the mage.

I flew across the room, ignoring Damelza, who slunk back around her desk, sinking into her chair with a satisfied nod.

Fox hugged his arms around his middle like he was hugging me.

“Is that everything? Would you like to cut out my heart as well?” Fox muttered.

“Not just now; hearts are always harvested at the full moon.” Damelza rifled through the papers on her desk like she hadn’t just torn Fox apart. “Well, go and wait for your classmates to be finished in Warrior Training. Remember, you’re the whipping boy. If I were you, I’d make sure that I won every lesson because if the Immortals lose the Rebel Cup, you’ll die.”