Read The Golden Lily Online

Authors: Richelle Mead

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Dating & Sex, #Friendship, #Fantasy & Magic

The Golden Lily (24 page)

“I thought you were all about vampire and human relationships,” I said.

“Oh, sure. Back home, no problem. Even out in your world, no problem. But Jil’s a special case. She’s got to stay out of sight and stay safe if she’s going to help her family. Dating him won’t do that, and she knows it—no matter how much she won’t do that, and she knows it—no matter how much she wishes it weren’t true.

She’ll do the right thing in the end. This is duty. It’s bigger than personal wants. Jill gets that.” Angeline then declared she needed to get back to her room to catch up on homework. Eddie and I were left staring.

He shook his head in amazement. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Angeline so …”

“… subdued?” I suggested.

“I was thinking … coherent.”

I laughed. “Come on, she’s coherent plenty of times.”

“You know what I mean,” he argued. “What she just said? It was totaly true. It was … wise. She understands Jill and this situation.”

“I think she understands more than we give her credit for,” I said, recaling how much better-behaved she’d been since the assembly—breaking into dances aside.

“It’s just taken her time to adjust, which makes sense, considering what a change this is.

If you’d seen where she’s from, you’d understand.”

“I may have misjudged her,” Eddie admitted. He seemed astonished by his own words.

Part of me had expected to get chastised by Trey today for having skipped out on Brayden at the dance. Instead, I found Trey missing again from our morning classes. I almost worried but then reminded myself that his cousin was still in town, possibly muddling Trey in “family stuff.” Trey was competent.

Whatever was going on, he could handle it. Then why all the bruises? I wondered.

When I reached Ms. Terwiliger’s independent study, she was When I reached Ms. Terwiliger’s independent study, she was waiting expectantly for me, which I took as a bad sign. Usualy, she was already hard at work at her own desk and just gave me a nod of acknowledgment when I took out my books. Today, she was standing in front of her desk, arms crossed, watching the door.

“Miss Melbourne. I trust you had an enjoyable weekend?

You were certainly the bele of the ball at the Haloween dance.”

“You saw me?” I asked. For a moment, I expected her to say she’d been watching the whole dance through a crystal ball or something.

“Wel, certainly. I was there as a chaperone. My post was near the DJ, so I’m not surprised you didn’t see me. That, and I hardly stood out the way you did. I must say, that was an exquisite neo-Greco reproduction you were wearing.”

“Thanks.” I was getting compliments left and right today, but hers were much less creepy than Jil’s.

“Now then,” said Ms. Terwiliger, all business again. “I thought it might be useful for us to discuss some of the spels you’ve been researching for my project.

Notating them is one thing. Understanding them is another.”

My stomach sank. I’d grown comfortable in my avoidance of her and the repetitive, almost mindless nature of annotating and translating spels. So long as we didn’t have to actualy delve into them, I felt reassured that I wasn’t doing anything real with magic. I dreaded whatever she had in mind, but there was little I could make have to actualy delve into them, I felt reassured that I wasn’t doing anything real with magic. I dreaded whatever she had in mind, but there was little I could make in the way of protest, so long as this was all couched could make in the way of protest, so long as this was all couched in the terms of my study and didn’t involve harm to myself or others.

“Would you be kind enough to close the door?” she asked. I did, and my feeling of unease increased. “Now. I wanted to examine that book I gave you further—the one on protective spels.”

“I don’t have it with me, ma’am,” I said, relieved. “But if you want, I’ll go get it from my dorm room and bring it back.” If I timed the shuttle bus right—by which I meant, wrong—I could probably use up a huge part of our hour in the round-trip.

“That’s all right. I obtained that copy for your personal use.” She lifted a book from her desk. “I have my own. Let’s take a look, shal we?” I couldn’t hide my dismay. We sat in adjacent student desks, and she began by simply going over the table of contents with me. The book was divided into three sections: Defense, Planned Attacks, and Instant Attacks. Each of those subsections was divided into levels of difficulty.

“Defense includes a lot of protective charms and evasion spels,” she told me. “Why do you think those come first in the book?”

“Because the best way to win a fight is to avoid one,” I said immediately. “Makes the rest superfluous.” She looked startled that I had come up with that.

“Yes … precisely.”

“That’s what Wolfe said,” I explained. “He’s the instructor in a self-defense class I’m taking.” a self-defense class I’m taking.”

“Wel, he’s quite right. Most of the spels in this section do exactly that. This one …” She flipped a few pages into the book.

“This one’s very basic but extremely useful. It’s a concealment spell. Many physical components—which you’d expect from a beginner spell—but well worth it. You create an amulet and keep a separate ingredient—crumbled gypsum—on hand. When you’re ready to activate it, add the gypsum, and the amulet comes to life. It makes it nearly impossible for someone to see you. You can leave a room or area in safety, undetected, before the magic wears off.” The wording wasn’t lost on me, and in spite of my inner resistance, I couldn’t help but ask: “‘Nearly impossible?’”

“It won’t work if they actualy know you’re there,” she explained. “You can’t just cast it and become invisible—though there are more advanced spels for that. But if someone isn’t actively expecting to see you … wel, they won’t.” She showed me others, many of which were basic and amulet based, requiring a similar means of activation. One that she dubbed intermediate had kind of a reverse activation process.

The caster wore an amulet that protected her when she cast the rest of the spell—one that made all people within a certain radius go temporarily blind. Only the caster retained sight. Listening, I still squirmed at the thought of using magic to directly affect someone else. Concealing yourself was one thing. But blinding someone?

Making them dizzy? Forcing them to sleep? It crossed that line, using wrong and unnatural means to do things humans had no business doing.

had no business doing.

And yet … deep inside, some part of me could see the usefulness. The attack had made me reconsider all sorts of things. As much as it pained me to admit it, I could even see how giving blood to Sonya might not be so bad. Might. I wasn’t ready to do it yet by any means.

I listened patiently as she went through the pages, all the while wondering what her game was here. Finaly, when we had five minutes left of class, she told me, “For next Monday, I’d like you to re-create one of these, just as you did with the fire amulet and write a paper on it.”

“Ms. Terwiliger—” I began.

“Yes, yes,” she said, closing the book and standing up. “I’m well aware of your arguments and objections, how humans aren’t meant to wield such power and all of that nonsense. I respect your right to feel that way. No one’s making you use any of this. I just want you to continue getting a feel for the construction.”

“I can’t,” I said adamantly. “I won’t.”

“It’s no different than dissecting a frog in biology,” she argued.

“Hands-on work to understand the material.”

“I guess …” I relented, glumly. “Which one do you want me to do, ma’am?”

“Whichever you like.”

Something about that bothered me even more. “I’d rather you choose.”

“Don’t be sily,” she said. “You have freedom in your larger term paper and freedom in this. I don’t care what you do, so long as the assignment’s complete. Go with what interests you.” And that was the problem. In having me choose, she was making me get invested in the magic. It was easy for me to claim no part in it and point out that everything I did for her was under duress. Even if this assignment was technicaly dictated by her, that one small choice she’d given me forced me to become proactive.

So, I put the decision off—which was almost unheard of for me when it came to homework. Some part of me thought that maybe if I ignored the assignment, it would go away or she’d change her mind. Besides, I had a week. No point in stressing about it yet.

Although I knew we had no obligation to Lia for giving us the costumes, I still felt the appropriate thing to do was return them to her—just so there was no doubt of my intentions. Once Ms.

Terwiliger released me, I packed up my and Jil’s costumes into their garment bags and headed into downtown. Jill was sad to let hers go but conceded that it was the right thing to do.

Lia, however, felt otherwise.

“What am I going to do with these?” she asked when I showed up at her shop. Large rhinestone hoop earrings made her dazzling to look at. “They were custom made for you.”

“I’m sure you can alter them. And I’m sure they’re not far off from your sample sizes anyway.” I held the hangers out, and she obstinately crossed her arms. “Look, they were great. We realy appreciate what you did. But we can’t keep them.” appreciate what you did. But we can’t keep them.”

“You will keep them,” she stated.

“If you don’t take them, I’ll just leave them on your counter,” I warned.

“And I’ll have them shipped back to your dorm.” I groaned. “Why is this so important to you? Why can’t you take no for an answer? There are plenty of pretty girls in Palm Springs. You don’t need Jil.”

“That’s exactly it,” said Lia. “Plenty of pretty girls that all blend into each other. Jill is special. She’s a natural and doesn’t even know it. She could be great someday.”

“Someday,” I repeated. “But not right now.” Lia attempted another approach. “The campaign is for scarves and hats. I can’t do masks again, but I can put her in sunglasses

—especialy if we shoot outside. Tell me if you’d agree to this plan—”

“Lia, please. Don’t bother.”

“Just listen,” she urged. “We’ll go do a photo shoot.

Afterward, you can go through all the pictures and throw out any that don’t meet your weird religious criteria.”

“No exceptions,” I insisted. “And I’m leaving the dresses.” I set them on a counter and headed out, ignoring Lia’s protests about all the amazing things she could do for Jil. Maybe someday, I thought. Someday when all of Jill’s problems are gone. Something told me that day was far away, however.

Although my loyalty to Spencer’s was steadfast, a small French café caught my attention as I walked back to my car. Or rather, the scent of their coffee caught my attention. I had no rather, the scent of their coffee caught my attention. I had no obligations at school and stopped into the café for a cup. I had a book for English class on me and decided to do some reading at one of the café’s small tables. Half of that time was spent texting back and forth with Brayden. He’d wanted to know what I was reading, and we were swapping our favorite Tennessee Wiliams quotes.

I’d barely been there for ten minutes when shadows fell over me, blocking the late afternoon sun. Two guys stood there, neither of whom I knew. They were a little older than me, one blond haired and blue eyed while the other was dark haired and deeply tanned. Their expressions weren’t hostile, but they weren’t friendly either. Both were well built, like those who trained regularly. And then, after a double-take, I realized I did recognize one of them. The dark-haired guy was the one who’d approached Sonya and me a while ago, claiming to know her from Kentucky.

Immediately, all the panic I’d been trying to suppress this last week came back to me, that sense of being trapped and helpless. It was only the realization that I was in a public place, surrounded by people, which alowed me to regard these two with astonishing calm.

“Yes?” I asked.

“We need to talk to you, Alchemist,” said the blond guy.

I didn’t twitch a muscle in my face. “I think you’ve got me mixed up with someone else.”

“No one else around here has a lily tattoo,” said the other guy.

He’d said his name was Jeff, but I wondered if he’d told the He’d said his name was Jeff, but I wondered if he’d told the truth. “It’d be great if you could take a walk with us.” My tattoo was covered up today, but something told me these guys had been folowing me for a while and didn’t need to see the lily to know it was there.

“Absolutely not,” I said. I didn’t even need Wolfe’s reminders to know that was a terrible idea. I was staying here in the safety of the crowd. “If you want to talk, you’d best take a seat.

Otherwise, go away.”

I looked back down at my book, like I didn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, my heart was pounding, and it took every ounce of control I had to keep my hands from shaking. A few moments later, I heard the sounds of metal scraping on concrete, and the two guys sat down opposite me. I looked back up at their impassive faces.

“You’ve got to go inside if you want coffee,” I remarked.

“You’ve got to go inside if you want coffee,” I remarked.

“They don’t have service out here.”

“We’re not here to talk about the coffee,” said Jeff. “We’re here to talk about vampires.”

“Why? Are you filming a movie or something?” I asked.

“We know you hang out with them,” said Blond Hair.

“Including that Strigoi, Sonya Karp.”

Part of my tattoo’s magic was to prevent Alchemists from revealing information about the vampire world to outsiders. We literaly couldn’t do it. The magic would kick in and prevent it if we tried. Since these guys seemed to already know about vampires, the tattoo wasn’t going to censor my words. Instead, I vampires, the tattoo wasn’t going to censor my words. Instead, I chose to censor myself of my own free wil. Something told me ignorance was the best tactic here.

“Vampires aren’t real,” I said. “Look, if this is some kind of a joke—”

“We know what you do,” continued Blond Hair. “You don’t like them any more than we do. So why are you helping them?

How could your group have gotten so muddled and lost sight of our original vision? Centuries ago, we were one united group, determined to see all vampires wiped from the face of the earth in the name of the light. Your brethren betrayed that goal.” I had another protest ready, and then I noticed a glint of gold in Jeff’s ear. He was wearing a tiny earring, a small golden sphere with a dark dot in the middle. I couldn’t help myself.

Other books

The Tragedy of Z by Ellery Queen
Ilse Witch by Terry Brooks
The Kabbalist by Katz, Yoram
Operation Massacre by Rodolfo Walsh, translation by Daniella Gitlin, foreword by Michael Greenberg, afterwood by Ricardo Piglia
Petr's Mate by April Zyon