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blueheronteanookRating: Mature
Major Warnings: Abuse, human trafficking, implied/referenced sexual violence
Genre: Side character focus, angst, emotional whump
Summary:
“Okay, what is it?” Chase asked.
Nicolette straightened up, taking a deep breath. She’d been rehearsing the statement in her head for weeks now.
“When you Awakened me, you took responsibility for several things. First, that you’d help me control the voices in my head. Second, you’d get me a place to stay that wasn’t my parents’ house. Third, you’d teach me how to fend for myself in this world you were bringing me into. You’ve done the first, and I’m grateful for that. The other two have issues that need to be worked out.”
“I got you invited to the Blue Heron, didn’t I? And I sponsored you into the Belanger Circle,” he said.
“Yes. You did,” she said. “Alexander told me that he was willing to waive costs for the first spring session I spent here, but he can’t let me stay for free forever. He needs someone to cover the cost. Until then, I have to do chores for him to make up the gap.”
“And? Why should I care?”
--
Five times Nicolette sought help escaping Alexander, and one time she rejected it.
I.
Nicolette approached the door to Chase’s dorm room, rapping it firmly three times.
After a few seconds, it opened. Chase stepped outside, rubbing his face blearily.
It was the first time they had seen each other in a year. Chase was half a head taller than he used to be, and now Nicolette had to look up to meet him in the eyes. He’d arrived at the Blue Heron yesterday, and he still hadn’t changed into the Belanger Circle uniform that Alexander asked of all his apprentices when representing him in public. His shirt was noticeably rumpled.
“Oh. It’s you.” His voice carried a faint note of surprise. “Great, you can help me unpack my bags.”
Nicolette curtsied, despite the pants she was wearing. “Sir. I was hoping to speak with you about my apprenticeship.”
“Yeah yeah, once my clothes are all sorted out. Come in.”
It looked like his roommate hadn’t arrived yet, which was a mixed blessing. She followed Chase in, spending the next fifteen minutes carting his socks from luggage to dresser and hanging his shirts inside the standard brownie-issue wardrobe. Some of his pants were new enough that he hadn’t snipped off the price tags yet. His extra pair of dress shoes had to be unboxed and lined up against the wall. Luckily, Chase took over once she got to his underwear, face flushing red as he snatched the pile out of her hands.
Her eyes slid to the closed door, wondering what the chances were of someone answering if she screamed. Of the chance that she would need to.
“Okay, what is it?” Chase asked.
Nicolette straightened up, taking a deep breath. She’d been rehearsing the statement in her head for weeks now.
“When you Awakened me, you took responsibility for several things. First, that you’d help me control the voices in my head. Second, you’d get me a place to stay that wasn’t my parents’ house. Third, you’d teach me how to fend for myself in this world you were bringing me into. You’ve done the first, and I’m grateful for that. The other two have issues that need to be worked out.”
“I got you invited to the Blue Heron, didn’t I? And I sponsored you into the Belanger Circle,” he said.
“Yes. You did,” she said. “Alexander told me that he was willing to waive costs for the first spring session I spent here, but he can’t let me stay for free forever. He needs someone to cover the cost. Until then, I have to do chores for him to make up the gap.”
“And? Why should I care?”
She ran her fingers through her hair, adjusting the brown sparrowfeather hairpiece that framed the side of her head. “These chores are… a lot. It gets in the way of the tasks you want me to do. I know you were able to get me a hotel room for a bit, before I came to the Blue Heron. Is there any way…”
Rising embarrassment closed her throat. She didn’t want to be a charity case, again.
Chase shrugged. “I dunno. Have to ask my dad. Is that it?”
That wasn’t a no. That wasn’t a yes, either. It was too soon to get her hopes up, but Chase had already gotten her off the streets once, and she knew that the Whitts had money. Maybe, just maybe, he might come through again.
She had to stay on track. Nicolette fished through her pocket, taking out the notes she had written on what she’d wanted to bring up with Chase.
“Just one more thing. Can we have more lessons?” Nicolette said. “I realized I’m missing a lot of fundamentals on Practice.”
“Like what?” Chase said.
“Like using augury to predict the future. I didn’t realize that was something you can do until I saw Wye and Seth doing it. Or upgrading my Sight, doing basic shamanism, connection blockers, making the universe go your way —”
She stopped at the growing frown on his face.
“What I mean is, we haven’t had much time together since you went away for school. I learned a lot from the few weeks we had. Alexander said I have a good grounding in omens, and it makes sense you’d focus on that first because of my head —”
“Why don’t you ask Alexander yourself? If you think he’s so high and mighty,” Chase burst out. “Call me a bad teacher, fine, I get it. You like him better. Go on, admit it.”
Nicolette shrank back at his sudden raised tone. What could she even say to that?
He snorted. “Silence, eh? Figures.”
“I don’t want to gainsay you, sir. Chase. Please.”
There was a dark look in his eyes. He moved forward, making her step back, abruptly cornered against a large desk. Her eyes were glued on his loosely curled hands. The room felt like it was tilting around her, even though a flare-up was the last thing she could afford.
He made a noise of irritation, reaching past her into the desk drawer. He rifled through a pile of notebooks, pulling out the bottom third to thrust into her arms.
“From past Blue Heron classes. Some of these are on augury. Read through it, make a list of anything you don’t understand, come to me when you’re done.”
She clutched the stack to her chest, leaning against the edge of the desk for support. Right now, it felt like the one solid thing in the dorm. She dipped her head in as vigorous a nod as she could manage.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t accuse me of — of failing my duties again. Get out,” he said.
She fled the room.
II.
Moonlight streamed through stained glass windows, painting the walls of the classroom in blue. Half-smeared chalk diagrams covered the floor. In the corner of the room, Nicolette hunched over, cleaning the chalk with a wet sponge. Behind her were two buckets of water, which she periodically dragged closer as she made her way through the room.
Her knees ached from crawling backward on the hardwood surface. Her skull felt like it was tightening too hard around her brain, leaving it no place to go except the hole in the side of her head. She lurched up and down the classroom, struggling to push on despite it all.
A voice rang out through the room. “Woah there, Nico. What are you doing here? Why’s it so dark?”
It was Zed. Nicolette relaxed her shoulders from where they had jumped up around her ears, trying to settle herself. Augurs weren’t supposed to get surprised like that.
“Don’t turn the lights on. I have a headache,” she said. “I told Alexander I’d have this clean before next morning.”
His eyes lit up with Sight, cutting through the dark like laser beams. “With a sponge?”
“He didn’t give me much choice,” Nicolette said. “Seth took the good mop.”
“Okay. Mind company?”
She shrugged. “Can’t hurt.”
Like usual, Zed sat on her left side where she could hear him better. He’d gotten a buzz cut recently that sharpened his features. Combined with his heavy brow that was no longer hidden behind a curtain of hair, it gave him a hawkish look that she was still getting used to.
“I got good news from Ray. Renovations for the all-gender bathroom will start once term ends and they can get Innocent contractors in. It’s going to double as the accessible stall and shower too. Can’t believe there wasn’t one before,” Zed said.
“What, you don’t want to share with Hadley and America anymore? Good choice,” Nicolette teased.
“I don’t want to share with Chase,” Zed muttered.
There was an awkward silence. Nicolette felt like she should say something, but her thoughts came slowly through the pressure in her head.
Finally, Zed offered, “Did you go to Mr. Bristow’s collections talk yesterday? What do you think of it?”
They spent a few minutes talking over what insights could be gleaned from Bristow’s incredibly boring, long-winded lecture yesterday. The man undoubtedly was an expert in his field, even if the way he spoke made it hard to pay attention. Nicolette liked the idea of magic items as an upfront cost for a permanent tool, but there was no way she could afford to buy from the vendors Bristow mentioned. Zed had ideas on how to modify technomantic items that other Practitioners avoided for being too weak or newfangled. Eventually, the conversation moved on to different subjects.
“Can I do anything to help? Feels weird doing nothing while you clean,” Zed said.
Nicolette paused her scrubbing. “What’ll I owe you for this?”
“Uh, nothing?”
“Please, I wasn’t born yesterday,” she said. A wave of vertigo swept through her and she reconsidered. “Help me clean up and I’ll spend 15 minutes on item diagnostics for you, at a time when we’re both free, no set date, okay? There’s more sponges in the supply closet.”
Zed was back before she knew it, attacking the chalk diagrams on the floor with a vigor Nicolette could only dream of. It looked so easy for him. While she tepidly continued with the area she was already in, he split off to the stage at the front of the classroom, around the teacher’s podium.
“You look really out of it, my guy. Maybe you should get some sleep? I’m capable of doing the rest,” Zed said.
“Are you calling me incapable?” she snapped.
“No, not like that, but — maybe a little bit,” Zed said. “Have you tried talking to Alexander about the workload? Ray gets like that sometimes, needs to be reminded that normal people need eight hours of sleep and don’t run on coffee, y’know.”
Nicolette gave him a flat stare. A dozen responses leapt to mind, ready to tear into everything from Zed’s deplorable fashion sense to his utter naivete about the world around them.
“You’re adorable. Don’t ever change,” she said.
She ignored Zed’s squawks of outrage.
How could she possibly describe it? The few times she had tried bringing it up to Alexander, he had demurred and told her that struggle was how Practitioners found themselves. Eventually, she’d concluded that he wanted her like this, too busy to get into any trouble. He needed someone to do all the domestic work his old boys club refused.
How long before Zed became a member of that club, rubbing shoulders with Alexander while she fetched them drinks? As much as he protested he didn’t want that, Nicolette couldn’t see how anyone might resist that level of power. She’d take it in a heartbeat if anyone offered it to her.
They finished up in silence. Wet sponge tracks glistened across the newly cleaned floor. Zed slung both buckets around his arm, ready to empty at the sink.
He offered his other arm to Nicolette, who was still hunched over on the ground. “Do you need help getting back to your room?”
He loomed over her in the blue light of the classroom. There wasn’t a hint of guile or deceit in his expression. Just a well-intentioned urge to help, like a puppy trying to cure its owner’s cancer with cuddles. She wanted to rip the useless, gentlemanly concern off his face.
Nicolette shook her head, feeling her way up against the wall as she staggered upright. “I’ll find my own way.”
She went back to her room alone.
III.
Nicolette sat on the edge of the blasting field, hands folded neatly in her lap. Afternoon classes were starting soon. Alexander was supposed to have a meeting with Durocher about organizing a fieldtrip into an elemental Storm. Nicolette scanned the field, watching students scurry inside.
“Nicolette, sweetie! There you are,” Eloise said.
She was a senior student, who always looked put together no matter what was going on. Today, she had a subtle no-makeup makeup look, and a light summer romper that showed off the tattoo of her familiar curling under her skin. As she approached, Schartzmugel waggled his legs in a wave.
Eloise placed her arms around Nicolette’s shoulders, leaning in for la bise; first on one cheek, then the other. It was close enough that Nicolette could smell her perfume, light and floral. She closed her eyes briefly.
“Are you ready?” Nicolette asked.
Eloise’s fingers laced around hers, automatically moving to Nicolette’s left side. “I am. You performed your service admirably, and now it’s time for your reward. Let’s go out to the dead rock.”
They walked through a small forest trail, unmarked but clearly well-trod. The sound of birdsong accompanied them. After a few minutes, they arrived at a lichen-covered boulder that rose toward the sky, creating a convenient hideaway to sit back and watch the clouds. Nicolette looked around furtively with three sets of Sights. The space was clear of other students, for now.
Eloise raised her arm, and Schwartzmugel burst out the end of it, expanding and lengthening to full form around them. He twined around something in the air, holding it still. To Nicolette’s third Sight, the chains that stretched between her and the main Blue Heron building were kept carefully slack.
“Tada. This is the best spot on campus to escape outside notice. Our headmaster is so convinced he knows what happens here that it’s easy to persuade him not to look,” Eloise said. “Now, tell me what it is you want.”
Nicolette’s hand went to the hair ornament clipped over the hole in her head. A snake skull, today, with fangs reaching out. She took a deep breath, taking a moment to settle herself.
“I need to know what my master plans for me. The other one, not Chase. I don’t want to lock anything in with Augury. Can you find out what he wants, without tipping him off?”
She turned her skirt pockets out, showing a slightly-out-of-date class photo, scissors, a pen, and a ball of white yarn. Connections work wasn’t her specialty, but she’d seen Eloise use materials like these often enough to guess that they might be useful here.
Eloise raised her eyebrows. “You’re a prepared little one, aren’t you?”
“I have to be,” Nicolette said. “Can you do it or not?”
“Let me try,” Eloise said.
Eloise took the photo to cut out a smiling Alexander, his arms draped around the other teachers, and a wary Nicolette, almost hidden by the crowd. She had Nicolette sign the cutout of herself. Then Nicolette had to carefully cut herself on the blade of the scissors to squeeze a drop of blood onto her signature.
Eloise took the ball of yarn, pulling out a length to roll between her fingers. “Three-ply acrylic. It could be worse. Embroidery floss will give a more nuanced analysis, but this will do.”
Eloise snipped the yarn, tying it around each cutout. There was a glint of gold as she rubbed glamour in. She directed Nicolette to hold the pieces down on the rock as she unraveled it from the middle, pulling the three strands apart. Each turned a different color: teal, emerald green, and beige.
“The headmaster’s emotions toward you can be summed up as a blend of fascination, covetousness, and dismissal,” Eloise said. “Whatever his plans are, rest assured he doesn’t hate you personally.”
“That doesn’t make me safe,” Nicolette pointed out.
“Smart girl. Teal and green together are often what passes for love these days. Have you received any marriage offers yet?”
Nicolette blanched at the implication. “No. Not from anyone.”
She wracked her memories for any indication that Alexander might want her that way, any gaze that slipped over her body, any touch that lingered too long. She couldn’t come up with very much. Maybe he was better at hiding it than the likes of Seth and Griffin.
Thinking out loud, she continued, “I have to sign a contract every year to stay at the Blue Heron. It says that — my master — can assign me any age-appropriate duty as recompense for what I owe. I’m 15 now.”
“15 isn’t so young,” Eloise said. “The way I see it, you have two options. You can leave the Blue Heron, abandon the Belanger name, give up everything he is providing you so there’s no debt to call on. Or you play his game, excel, ensure your debt never gets large enough that the only way to cover it through a bride price. Two options that allow you to keep what is important of your Self.”
Nicolette was already shaking her head. “I can’t go back to homelessness. Not again.”
“Then you know what you have to do. Win this engagement, or else.”
“How?” Nicolette pled.
The smile dropped from Eloise’s eyes. She looked as serious as Nicolette had ever seen her.
“I can’t afford to bet on losing dogs. Sorry. If you want help, that’ll be another favor.”
Nicolette thought back to the planner she kept in her room, how every day for the next three months was filled with commitments from morning to midnight. She’d had to scrimp on all her other Practices for weeks to get the omens necessary to infuse Eloise’s bracelet. Who knew when she’d next have the time and resources to spare?
Nicolette swallowed hard. In a very small voice, she said, “Okay.”
Afterward, they burned the ritual components with a fire rune, dumping the ashes into the nearby river. Water lapped loudly at the banks, a reassuring sign that Alexander wasn’t listening in. Nicolette tried to hold onto that as her one concrete win. Schartzmugel returned to tattoo form on Eloise’s skin, and they exited the forest the same way they’d entered.
Eloise held Nicolette’s hand as they walked. Still, it didn’t feel the same as before. Bunches of students spread out in the grass of the blasting field, lazing in the afternoon sun, chatting, trying to one-up each other. Near the path, Hadley caught Nicolette’s eye and smirked. Nicolette raised her chin back, determined not to act like she was doing anything wrong.
The back door of the main building, where Nicolette had been hoping to slip in, was blocked by a disgruntled, irate Chase. His frown grew as he looked between the two of them.
“Nicolette! Alexander wants you in his study as soon as possible. He’s got some new task for you, field trip prep or whatever. Where have you been?” he demanded.
Before Nicolette could apologize for her absence, Eloise cut in, smiling brightly. “Out and about. We were having some girltalk about men and love. Ulysses is growing up nicely, don’t you think?”
Chase scoffed. “I don’t care. Nicolette, bring a cheesecake to the study nook. When you’re done with Alexander’s thing, of course. We’re having a review session in there.”
Nicolette bent low in a curtsy, tucking away her irritation like it had never been there in the first place. Along with it went the events at the dead rock: the terror of discovery, the hope of escape, and the grinding bitterness of disappointment.
“Yes, sir. As long as I’m not kept too long.”
“So this is goodbye, then. I’ll see you around, I hope,” Eloise said, pulling away lightly.
“Yes. Me too,” Nicolette agreed.
Then she stepped inside, back into the walls of the Blue Heron where Alexander waited.
IV.
It was a warm, muggy day outside when Nicolette left the main building, heading to the parking lot. The pocket protector in her dress shirt was filled with three long raven feathers. Like always, she had a faintly harried air to her.
Elizabeth was already waiting outside the workshop, studying a map of the school. Her high-collared blouse and long, pleated skirt made her look like she had walked out of a vintage photograph. Her hair was swept back in an elaborate bun. The only element that didn’t fit was the ballpoint pen tucked behind her ear. It was charming, in a quaint way. At Nicolette’s approach, she waved.
“Hi Elizabeth. I brought the Moíra, Enyo, and Eris quills, like you asked,” Nicolette said.
“Please, call me Liz. That’s what my friends use," Elizabeth answered. “I’ve plotted out the route I want to walk. I can’t see the present world when I’m doing this, so you may need to guide me. Are you ready to go?”
Nicolette took the map. “Yes.”
They set off on a meandering journey to the hill that lay between the school and the town. According to old records, that was the former site of the church before it was relocated in 1961. Nicolette took the right side, and Elizabeth followed.
The color in Elizabeth’s eyes was replaced with delicate crosshatching as she gazed into the distance. She had a narrow, powerful Sight that blurred the lines between Historian Practices and Augury. If all went well, this project would blur those lines even more.
At the top of the hill, Elizabeth stopped, shaking a cut in her palm into the empty air. “Forma. Viscerum. Solidatur.”
An image formed, blood catching in the contours of a scene from long ago. A man held a woman by the wrist, sneering at her mid-sentence while bystanders hurried past; one of many snapshots of history they would be sampling to check for significant patterns around the former church. There was a forced, blank expression on the woman’s face, betrayed only by her too-small pupils and the tension in her jaw. It wasn’t the first time this had happened to her. Personally, Nicolette wouldn’t let herself be treated like that without getting payback someday.
“What an unpleasant fellow. I hope he didn’t accost her for too long,” Elizabeth remarked. “Feathers, please.”
Nicolette slashed all three quills through the man’s face. Dark spirits surged into the scene, roughly marking out the omens that would have been present at the time. Sharp Eris, for discord, swam thickly between the man and the woman. Not that she needed Practice to see it.
“There isn’t much Moíra present. Whatever happened, she wasn’t marked for doom,” Nicolette reported, if only for Elizabeth’s benefit.
Elizabeth nodded effusively. “The clothing looks Georgian, which gives a rough time period. I wonder why she’s wearing rosary beads? The sources I read said this was a United Church.”
Elizabeth condensed the scene down into the rosary beads around the woman’s neck, and they moved onto the next area to repeat the process. Nicolette steered her around each of the campus buildings. Over and over, they saw scenes of gossip, acrimony, and coercion. Then Elizabeth found a dozen conspicuously armed men surrounding a cowering priest.
“I have a theory,” Elizabeth said. “This town might originally have been Catholic. Then, I don’t know when, the Orange Order ran them out, and it got taken over by Protestant groups that eventually merged into the United Church. That sowed a pattern of discord into the land that caused the conflicts of the other memories.”
“What’s the Orange Order?” Nicolette asked.
Elizabeth perked up, immediately launching into a lecture about a Protestant fraternal order that had been powerful enough to incite riots and select mayors all across the province. At the height of their reign, members were effectively immune to the law. Elizabeth was happy to answer Nicolette’s questions about it: no, they didn’t have any influence now. No, Orange Order leadership was all Innocent as far as anyone knew. Yes, they would be rolling in their graves at Canada’s current multicultural, secular state.
“No wonder the Blue Heron is so full of strife,” Nicolette muttered.
Elizabeth tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I think it’s tied to the land itself, not the building. It should have went away when the town relocated the church, long before the Blue Heron bought the property. There should be ways to check, though. Maybe in another project.”
It was easy listening to Elizabeth talk. The conversation wandered from history at the Blue Heron, to the indie journal Elizabeth planned to submit her findings to, then to the way history was represented in Practitioner texts as a whole.
“All the history books in my family’s library are written by men,” Elizabeth ranted. “You know how it is. They focus on the experiences of half the population at best, ignoring the contributions of exceptional women across time. I hope to write a grand history of Practitioner society in Canada someday, to correct this matter — eek!”
Elizabeth tripped over a tree root. Nicolette caught her by the shoulders, just in time to stop her from pitching into the ground. She carefully drew Elizabeth back into a standing position.
Elizabeth placed a hand over her heart. “My hero. Thank you for saving me.”
Nicolette was suddenly aware that her right hand was pressing over Elizabeth’s bra strap under the thin layer of her blouse. She hastily pulled back, cheeks flushing.
“You’re welcome. Be more careful next time.”
“I’m peering into the deep past. I can’t see what’s in front of me,” Elizabeth complained.
Shortly after that, they finished walking around the hill and returned to the workshop on campus. It was a cozy cabin space, meant to hold delicate student rituals. The small kitchenette held a refrigerator with a laminated sign taped to the door: “NO PRACTICE MATERIALS.”
Elizabeth spread out her haul of condensed memories on the worktable. Nicolette pulled up a chair next to her.
Elizabeth began marking out a chain of chalk circles, connected from one end to the other with bold Latin notation. “The next step is to turn these scenes into an animated display. I hope your additions will come through.”
The lines on the table flared. Each item unfolded, expanding back into ghostly red versions of the original scenes they had captured. Then the diagram pulsed, lighting up the first scene in the chain. It pulsed again, lighting up the second, then the third, in a rotating strobing motion. Once it reached the end, it started over with the first scene, which looked like it had advanced a second or so in time.
Nicolette grimaced, shielding her eyes from the inevitable headache to come. “How long is this going to last?”
“Maybe a day or two. It runs pretty autonomously as long as it’s not disrupted. No other Historian Practices, no augury, Sight itself is borderline… We can move somewhere else if you’d like,” Elizabeth said.
“How bad will the disruption be if something happens? Stray augury, or similar.”
“Very. It could potentially end the whole ritual.” Elizabeth explained the warning signs of what interference from other Practices looked like.
Just like that, Nicolette made her decision. “Let’s stay in the workshop. Over there?”
They moved over to an unused cot. Nicolette sat down on the bed, facing away from the flashing diagram. She felt oddly free. Alexander couldn’t look into the workshop without her knowing about it, whether it was today, tomorrow, or three years in the future. She was risking a massive headache later, being in this room, but she didn’t even care.
Elizabeth, to her right, said something Nicolette couldn’t catch.
Nicolette angled her good ear towards her. “What did you say?”
“Do you want to be listed in the acknowledgments section of my article, when I send it in? You’ve been a great help on this project.”
“Of course. Don’t even think about leaving me out,” Nicolette replied.
“Message received!” Elizabeth said. She laid down on the bed, clasping her hands over her stomach. “I’m so thankful to have the opportunity to attend the Blue Heron. I had to talk my parents into it, especially with the price tag, that’s been a recurring problem. But I’ve gotten to meet so many cool people here. Like you.”
Nicolette had no idea how to respond to that. A flash of envy ran through her, hot and sharp, at the idea that the Blue Heron could ever be an uncomplicatedly positive experience for Elizabeth. Was she just that blind, or had she genuinely been spared?
The next words came on impulse. “What would you do if you found out a teacher was” — Nicolette floundered for a word that encapsulated everything and came up short — “exploiting a girl at this school?”
Elizabeth immediately sat up, voice full of concern. “Why? Do you know something?”
“I might have seen something,” Nicolette sidestepped.
“Who is it?” Elizabeth asked. When Nicolette didn’t respond, she continued on with a tentative air. “There are… rumors… that Bristow slept with a senior student some years ago. Was it him? I would believe it of Musser too. You should come forward and report it.”
Nicolette snorted. “Who would even care?”
“I do,” Elizabeth said. She placed her hand over Nicolette’s. “From one woman to another, we need to support each other, don’t we? I think Ms. Durocher would listen. I can be there as backup, if that will make it easier.”
A lump formed in Nicolette’s throat. There was something to Elizabeth that made her easy to believe, beyond the truth that Practitioners were technically required to speak at every moment. With Elizabeth, it seemed like she meant it. Nicolette blinked hard, determined not to embarrass herself by crying.
“Liz, I want to, but” — she shook her head minutely — “I’m worried that the teacher will want revenge.”
“That’s okay,” Elizabeth said. “Um, I read a pamphlet on how to report sexual assault. It’s normal to feel scared about approaching authorities over it. Maybe we can ask Ms. Durocher to swear not to reveal who tipped her off?”
Everything felt like it was in freefall for Nicolette. What was she even doing? She wanted to tell Elizabeth everything, the whole shameful mess from start to finish. She wanted Elizabeth to stop treating her like an object of pity, fragile as glass.
“Where do you find pamphlets about that?” Nicolette said.
“I’m applying for university soon. I did some campus tours with my family. U of T had these materials in the dorm lobby, and I’m a voracious reader under nearly any circumstance.” Elizabeth said, with a delicate, cautious air.
Nicolette sneered. “Are you going to give up Practice for university? Let them run you off just like that?”
“Certainly not. I think the Innocent world is much ahead of the Practitioner one in many crucial ways, so it’s important to keep a strong footing in it. I don’t plan to stop Practicing at university at all. In fact, I see it as a place to gain new perspectives as a Historian,” Elizabeth said. “Knowledge is power, no matter its source.”
The idea of higher education, studying as she pleased, family that supported her despite the cost — it all felt far more mystical than anything Nicolette had seen at the Blue Heron. The last time she had been to an Innocent school was when she was 12. Would Elizabeth think less of her for admitting that the most she knew of high school algebra was Chase’s complaints about the subject?
“Anyway, that’s beside the point. We were talking about going to Ms. Durocher..?” Elizabeth prompted.
Nicolette adjusted the dried goose claw clipped to her glasses. “Do you really think she will help?”
“She can. When Ms. Durocher decides to take a stand, it’s difficult for anyone in the vicinity not to know.”
Nicolette let out a slow breath. “Okay. Does Wednesday work for you? I can try to be free for that.”
“It does,” Elizabeth said, squeezing Nicolette’s hand. “I hope it isn’t too late to help the poor girl, whoever she is.”
Wednesday arrived with glacial slowness. Alexander was supposed to be out that day, visiting the Belanger estate on some sort of family business. Nicolette hadn’t been able to catch the details of what he was doing or why. She’d found fifteen spare minutes in the morning to confirm with her pets that Alexander’s car had gotten on the highway leading out of town, and set up a ward to notify her when he returned. Then she’d had to wipe down the blackboard in the main classroom, clean up a spill on the lunch tables, and discreetly dispose of a selection of whiskey bottles for Chase.
By the time Nicolette finished with her tasks, it was midday. She found Elizabeth in the library, paging through a paperback book named The Left Hand of Darkness. It didn’t look related to Practice.
Elizabeth closed the book, setting it away into a bag. “Are you ready?”
“No,” Nicolette admitted.
“Um, okay. I strongly think you should tell someone about it. The teachers can’t fix anything they don’t know about. If you’d been… taken advantage of… and someone else saw it, you’d want them to report it for you. Right?”
“I don’t need to be lectured at. I’m going,” Nicolette snapped.
They set out for the Western Wing, where Durocher’s office was. The heavy wooden door was closed. Through it, Nicolette Saw two human-shaped collections of blood vessels both sitting on what had to be facing chairs.
Elizabeth knocked on the door. “Hello? It’s Elizabeth.”
The second, taller figure inclined its head toward them. “I’m chatting with Amine right now. I should be done in ten minutes.”
Elizabeth tugged Nicolette over to the side of the hall, where they had room to sit down. Unlike before, they didn’t talk about anything. A tense silence ran between them as Nicolette leaned back into the wall, rubbing her stiff neck, and Elizabeth sat with ramrod-straight posture.
A minute passed. Then five.
At the nine minute mark, the double doors to the entry hall opened. Bells chimed in Nicolette’s deaf ear. She bolted upright, just as Alexander came striding down the Western Wing toward them. His eyes shone a burnished red. Wye followed behind with a briefcase, slipping off into the headmaster’s office.
Nicolette felt far away from herself. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t.
“Sir,” she said, automatically dropping into a curtsey before she realized it.
Alexander didn’t even look at her. “Liz. May I have a word?”
“I’m helping Nicolette with something right now. Can it wait, you think?” Elizabeth answered hesitantly.
“I’m afraid not. I just opened your parents’ letter asking for another extension on your tuition payment,” Alexander said. “If something isn’t done, this may impact your ability to attend the Blue Heron. I want to discuss your options with you. Privately.”
The pit in Nicolette’s stomach turned into a yawning chasm. What was Alexander doing? This couldn’t be a coincidence. Not with this timing. In all her worst fears, she hadn’t imagined that Alexander would dare go after Elizabeth.
“I like you, Liz. Lawrence was much more of a stickler for the numbers than I am. But this situation has gone on long enough. One way or another, it must be resolved,” Alexander pressed.
Elizabeth turned to Nicolette, visibly torn. “Will you be alright talking to Durocher by yourself? I don’t want to leave you hanging right now.”
Words jammed in her throat; whether to beg Elizabeth to stay or scream at her to shut up, Nicolette couldn’t tell. She felt like an outsider scrying on herself, observing her actions from a distance.
She made a small shooing gesture. “Go. It’s not that important.”
Elizabeth frowned, but stood up from the ground, dusting her skirt off. “I don’t see it that way, but I won’t insist. I hope we can come back to this later.”
Alexander smiled. “Don’t let us keep you, Nicolette. I’m sure you have plenty to do right now.”
“Of course, sir,” Nicolette agreed mechanically.
Alexander leaned in to Elizabeth conspiratorially. “Let’s talk in my study. Wye has prepared some papers. The Blue Heron isn’t a charity, but I like to recognize merit when I see it…”
Together, they went into the Eastern Wing, leaving Nicolette alone.
The moment Alexander left her field of view, she sagged against the wall, massaging her temple. Her fingertips were cold against her skin. How far would Alexander go to remove Elizabeth for the little she knew? Expulsion? Murder? Worse, what sort of deal might Elizabeth accept in order to keep a spot at the Blue Heron? She’d proven it herself: no matter what pretty words they said, nobody would back Nicolette over the man the entire school revolved around.
Despite her gossamer dragonfly hairpiece, the whispers hemmed in, sinking insidious hooks into her mind.
The door to Durocher’s office opened. Amine exited with a dazed look, carrying a stack of vellum that smelled sharply of fresh ink. Too late. Nicolette was already walking away, trying to ignore the mounted animal heads on the walls that watched her every step.
V.
Nicolette stamped into her room, barely avoiding slamming the door shut behind her. The singular ceiling light was powerful but cold, casting harsh shadows across the space. She picked up a bottle of IR Naproxen, downed the pill with a gulp of water, and then slumped bonelessly across her desk.
She’d just been told that permission to leave campus Saturday to harvest blood was denied. Why? Because Chase had already claimed her services for that day. She was pretty sure that Chase didn’t have anything more important in mind than getting Nicolette to pick up his laundry from dry cleaning, but as her master, his demands always came first.
Was this going to be her entire life, forever? Constantly attending to Chase’s and Alexander’s needs, then her husband’s after she was sold off in marriage? Or was Alexander the sort to keep her solely to himself?
She couldn’t afford to waste time moping around. Nicolette scooted over on her chair, booting up the gigantic computer on the desk. Zed had sent it a month ago as a Christmas gift. According to him, the cyberghoul that had previously been living in the monitor had filled it with too much death energy to be useful for his projects, but he thought that she might be able to take it. He’d installed a few basic apps. There was a technomantic firewall, which had come with a long explanation about viruses and hackers and fishing that Nicolette hadn’t fully been able to follow, but the gist of it was that it was extremely well protected against digital spying. Nowadays, she used it as another way to store information that Seth couldn’t sabotage.
Nicolette opened her calendar program, painstakingly copying information out of her planner into the computer. It was a slow process. Homelessless and the psych ward hadn’t been a good way to learn computer skills, and the Blue Heron was arguably worse.
After Nicolette was done transcribing, she checked her emails from the past week. Most of it was entirely useless. She was just about to close the program when she saw a message from a sender she didn’t recognize.
Dear Nicolette,
I’m Andrea of the Aegis Intelligence Coven in Winkler, Manitoba. We’re a forward-looking group of augurs that seek to prevent disasters from striking in the places that we live. We want to unite Practitioners to cooperate on solving problems together instead of following their own petty feuds. We feel you would be a strong addition to our group.
As a member of our coven, you can expect to learn many augury techniques from a variety of traditions, as long as you are willing to share your own. Knowledge in our group is not gatekept by seniority or sex. Coven members must follow a code of conduct to avoid unnecessary internal conflict. Our rules prevent us from bringing you in as a minor, but you will be fully eligible to join once you turn 18.
Should you choose to join us, we can provide help in leaving your current master. Alexander Belanger’s habit of near-ritually forswearing those around him is a poorly hidden secret in our circles. We can provide contract review and coaching in matters of Law to dodge his more tenuous arguments.
If interested, respond to this email within three days.
With sharpest sight,
Andrea Kovalchuk
Nicolette re-read the email, trying to find the catch. She needed to know more. What did the Aegis Intelligence Coven get out of this?
At the same time, she couldn’t afford to dismiss the email too soon. Every day she stayed at the Blue Heron increased the chance that she’d never be able to leave. Not to mention the hungry looks she caught from Chase, Tanner, and Seth when they thought she wasn’t paying attention.
This offer had the potential to change everything. If she played the right cards, hid things from Alexander well enough, let nothing come between her and this shot at freedom… maybe things might work out after all.
Nicolette began drafting a message back.
Dear Nicolette,
It is extremely troubling that you do not have your own copies of your yearly contracts with Alexander. Is there any way for you to find the text of these so that our Law associate can go over your options with you? Be on the lookout for changes between different yearly editions.
Attached is a PDF explainer of common anti-augury diagrams and their limitations.
May subtlety win the day,
Andrea
Nicolette,
We can help you retrieve your documents and get a GED once you join us. We occasionally do business in the States, so it will be helpful to have functioning ID like a passport to get through the border.
Wishing you the best,
Andrea
The plan has changed. We may have found a way to work with you sooner before you turn 18, by inducting you into an allied coalition that we recently signed onto. This will let you leave the Belanger Circle faster, which you have repeatedly expressed desire to do. Additionally, we feel that this coalition is aligned with our mission to organize against Other-based existential threats toward human life.
Are you willing to swear fealty to Lawrence Bristow?
Thank you,
Andrea
VI.
Nicolette wrinkled her nose as she entered the darkened study. Despite being two months dead, the cloying scent of tobacco and marijuana hung just as heavy over Alexander’s demesne as it had during his life. She was pretty sure now that all the secondhand smoke was a trigger for her headaches, but she’d never been allowed a break from her duties before to avoid it. Now, no amount of airing the room out could seem to get rid of the stench.
The ex-demesne was filled with densely packed, jumbled furniture, the result of two floors worth of space suddenly turning back into one. A narrow path had been cleared towards the filing cabinets where Alexander had kept school records. Nicolette turned in the opposite direction, looking for the mahogany bookcase that had appeared in her divinations. She clambered through stacks of furniture, peering this way and that.
At last, she found the bookcase hidden behind an upturned table, which she had to drag to the side to get past.
The side wall of the bookcase clicked open as she pressed it. Inside, there was a set of keyholes for secret compartments within the overly thick shelves. Nicolette pushed a bent paper clip in, watching the pins carefully with her Sight. A few seconds later, she opened the shelf-turned-hidden-drawer. Inside was a pack of mismatched cigarettes.
That didn’t make sense. She’d sacrificed all her remaining blood supplies and a whole goat in order to find this, paring through its liver with a knife to discover what plans Alexander had set in motion and if anyone else could use the debt he’d held over her. The results had told her to search the mahogany bookcase. These cigarettes just looked like a guilty pleasure tucked away somewhere discreet.
Wye had cut off all her access to Belanger supplies after becoming head. Nicolette would just have to guess based on the Practices she had seen Alexander use before. She leaned back in a plush wingback chair, lighting the cigarette. Then she drew in a deep breath.
She immediately broke into a coughing fit, smoke spewing out of her mouth. The cigarette continued smouldering, releasing gray eddies that formed sound and images in the air.
In the haze, two men sat down in an unfamiliar but lavishly decorated room, filled with medieval frescos. Nicolette recognized the shock of red that formed one man’s hair.
“Thank you for inviting me, Samuel. I hope you don’t mind if I indulge while we speak?”
“Not at all, Alexander. I want my potential father-in-law to be as comfortable as possible…”
Nicolette grit her teeth, smoking the cigarette down to a stub as she watched. Then she moved onto the next one, and the next, ignoring the burning in her throat.
One man had offered to buy Nicolette’s hand with a limited visitation pass to a private library filled with one-of-a-kind, rare books from the 17th century. Alexander had asked for proof that none of these books were in the Blue Heron or Atheneum Arrangement collections, and compiled a list of titles to try to acquire elsewhere. Another man had asked whether Nicolette was known to be fertile, and Alexander had answered by sliding over a photocopy of her medical records. A third had accused Alexander of setting up Nicolette’s protections to fail so that she’d turn into a collection of malign spirits possessing a body instead of a wife, to which Alexander had only smiled knowingly. Then there had been a discussion with a woman who looked a little like Alexander, where he mused that if Nicolette turned out to be a true talent she should be tied more deeply into the family. The woman had objected vehemently, to which Nicolette could feel nothing but weary gratitude. But it didn’t end there.
With each scene, Nicolette dug her nails deeper into the armrest beside her. She imagined the fabric tearing under her fingers, gouges opening up in the upholstery foam beneath. Anything to distract from the churning in her stomach. Her skull pounded with the beginnings of a headache.
The lights suddenly turned on in the study. Nicolette hastily shook out the cigarette, stubbing it out on the ashtray while keeping low to the ground.
There was someone near the entrance, approaching the filing cabinets. Her fifth Sight traced out the figure of a grown adult rummaging through drawers with increasing franticness. One adjustment to her glasses, and she could see the anxiety and doubt radiating off of the figure, chained down with weighty obligations leading off into the distance.
She quietly scooted around the edge of the table, trying to escape the room before she could be seen. It wasn’t enough.
“Nicolette? What are you doing here?” Ray said quizzically.
“Searching for old records,” she answered as casually as she dared. “You?”
Ray dressed like he didn’t have time to take care of himself. A five o’clock shadow showed on his face. The red sunglasses he was wearing obscured his eyes, mirrored lenses only showing Nicolette’s reflection back at her.
“I’m looking for the contact information of some Law Mages, to get advice on translating the Atheneum Arrangement’s terms of service into Chinese. Alexander kept a list of people who were good at that. If I can’t get this done by next Wednesday, the deal I was working on will be called off,” Ray said.
“I see,” Nicolette said politely.
He didn’t hold the same power over her that Alexander had, and he certainly didn’t have the authority to limit her comings and goings. Still, it was difficult to shake the old habits of deference to Alexander’s circle of friends.
There was an awkward pause from Ray. “How is everything going with Seth? I hope the school’s protections are keeping him from harm.”
“He’s alive. He’s eating. He even showers sometimes.”
“That’s the physical side. How is he, emotionally speaking?”
Nicolette held back a shrug. “As I said, he’s showering now. That’s an improvement.”
It was easiest to think of Seth as just another duty she had to handle. Now that he was forsworn, his ability to act should be gone, but it was hard to forget how he and Maricica had staged Charles Abrams’ breakout from containment. She’d learned to ignore his angry, self-pitying rants, other than the basics necessary to keep him from hurting himself or others. Sometimes she wondered if he was deliberately goading her into revoking protections by calling her a bitch and a harpy and worse. Still, keeping Seth in some semblance of comfort was the best way to spite Alexander’s last act as head of the Belanger Circle.
“I wish…” Ray trailed off. “He’s so young. I hope our support can make up a little for what Alexander did to him, at least.”
“You put a lot of resources into helping him. More than I’ve seen you invest in any student here that wasn’t your apprentice.” Nicolette’s voice gained a bitter edge as she spoke. “Why Seth, of all people? You know he’s groped multiple girls at school and done worse in town, right? Out of everyone at the Blue Heron, why is he the one you’ve gone out of your way to help?”
“Forswearing is barbaric. You said so yourself.”
“I did,” Nicolette acknowledged. Inside her pocket, she slowly crushed the used cigarette stubs she’d hidden in there. “Alexander threatened to forswear me too, you know. Where were you when that happened, Ray?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ray said uncertainly. “I’m sure I’d remember something like that if I saw it.”
“It happened right here! Alexander tricked me into signing a contract that said I’d become his servant in exchange for my room and board. Then he racked up the debt for every piece of knowledge I gained, every resource I used, until I had to sign more contracts just to keep up. I was 12. Where was that big moral stand against Alexander then? Would you have given me a fraction of the help that you’re giving Seth now?” she demanded.
Ray didn’t say anything. Nicolette wanted to slap those sunglasses off his face again, except this time there was no Fae nettlewisp to serve as an excuse.
She fished around for something, anything, to make him react. “Alexander was in talks to sell me like a piece of meat. Do you know what kind of disgusting men he was in contact with? If I turned 18 while under contract with him, he could have forced me to get married to a husband who’d beat or rape me, or forswear me and still let that happen anyway. Would you have done anything then? Zed said — Zed said you’re better than other Practitioners about gender, but you let this happen right under your nose!”
She realized, too late, that she was yelling. Hot tears welled in her eyes, which she blinked angrily away. Where had that come from? This was the worst time to lose control of herself.
Ray spoke up hesitantly. “I heard that your apprenticeship wasn’t the best, but… I didn’t know. I didn’t want to know. I thought that with Alexander dead, the problem would solve itself.”
“It hasn’t,” Nicolette snarled. “I’m still here. I can’t afford to go anywhere else.”
“Do you want to stay with Zed and Brie? I’m paying for their house in Manitoba, to wait out Charles — the Carmine Exile —”
“Not unless you can set up the same level of protections for Seth there as you did here,” she interrupted.
“I can’t.”
“Then I’m stuck here. Don’t offer me something you can’t deliver.” She circled around the pile of chairs separating them, good ear tilted toward him as she stared him down.
The more time went on, the more Nicolette thought back to Alexander’s parting words. You are too kind to those who are horrible to you. He was right. By taking Seth under her wing, by rejecting Bristow on behalf of those girls from Kennet, Nicolette had torpedoed any chance she ever had of leaving the Blue Heron.
“I’m sorry. I should have kept better watch on Alexander, before he did all of this,” Ray offered.
He had the audacity to look slightly pained at that statement. The colorful aura around him darkened to one of deep shame, mixed with traces of confusion and grief. Nicolette’s lip curled in disgust.
“It’s a good thing you stepped down as headmaster,” she jabbed. “We all know how good you are at keeping children alive on your watch.”
Ray physically flinched in response. Nicolette gave a mean little smile, but the satisfaction of it was slippery. There was a hollow ache in her chest that wouldn’t go away, and it wasn’t from the half-pack of cigarettes she had smoked today.
“I don’t need your charity. I’d be stupid to allow you that much unstructured debt over me,” Nicolette declared. “I’ve been invited to a task force that Musser is assembling against the Carmine Exile. He promises to pay well.”
Like it or not, that was the world she was living in now. She’d been gone too long from Innocent society to make her way as a normal high school student, while also working a side job and securing a place to live. Surviving in the Practitioner world was a much more familiar and predictable task. If she couldn’t leave the Blue Heron, she would use the methods that Alexander taught her to navigate her own way through its upper echelons.
Once again, Ray remained silent. He pressed a device clipped to his belt, and Nicolette’s Sight fuzzed out around him, showing only his mundane image.
So be it. She didn’t need his permission to leave the conversation; the last few months of working with him had shown that he didn’t have the confidence to punish her over it. Nicolette turned on her heel, exiting the study. She was done waiting for someone else to save her.
Only when she had reached her room, where she was sure that no one was watching her, did she start crying in earnest.
