A Deadly Education Page 49

“I don’t want an apology,” I said resentfully. “I’m not coming to New York.”

Chloe’s face went stricken. “If—Are you going to London?” she asked, her voice shaking. “Is this—is this because of Todd? He’s going to be kicked out, obviously, no one in New York would—”

“It’s not Todd!” I said, irritated even more, because she hadn’t the slightest right to an answer, only she sounded like I was stabbing her with knives. “I’m not going to any enclave.”

Chloe was starting to look bewildered. “But—are you and Orion just—” She couldn’t even come up with something to finish the sentence.

“We aren’t doing anything. I don’t even understand why all of you are freaking out this way. Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m not dating Orion, and even if I were, two weeks ago he didn’t know my name. And you’re ready to offer me a guaranteed slot? What if in a month he’s taken up with a girl from Berlin?”

I thought that at least would make her back off, but Chloe didn’t look at all comforted. She had an odd, confused wobbling sort of expression, and then abruptly she said, “You’re the only person Orion’s ever actually hung out with.”

“Right, sorry, I forgot that your kind aren’t allowed to associate with the plebeians.”

“That’s not what I mean!” she said. “He doesn’t hang out with us, either.” Which was a bizarre thing to say, given I’d seen him hanging out with her almost nonstop for the last three years, and my face must have shown it, because she shook her head. “He knows us, his mom told him to look out for us, but he doesn’t—talk to any of us. He has to sit somewhere at meals and in classes, so he sits with us, but he doesn’t say anything unless you ask him a question. He never comes and just hangs out, not with anyone—not here, not in our rooms; he doesn’t even study with anyone! Except with you.”

I stared at her. “What about Luisa?”

“Luisa was constantly begging him to let her follow him around, and he didn’t shove her off because he felt sorry for her,” Chloe said. “He still avoided her whenever he could. I’ve known him since we were born, and the only reason he knows my name is that his mom drilled him with flash cards in second grade. Even when we were kids, all he ever wanted to do is hunt mals.”

“Yes, how could Candy Land possibly stack up against mal-hunting?” I said, incredulously.

“You think that’s a joke? When we were in preschool, a suckerworm got into our classroom. The teacher found out because Orion was in the corner laughing, and she asked him what was so funny and he held it up in both hands to show us. It was thrashing around with its mouth going, trying to bite. We all screamed and he jumped and pulled it into two pieces by accident. All of us got sprayed with its guts.” My face screwed up involuntarily: ew. She grimaced in memory. “He was doing gate shifts by the time he was ten. I don’t mean he’d be assigned, it was his idea of fun. Magistra Rhys, he’s her only kid, all our lives she was constantly dragging him to our places for playdates, to get him to make friends, and the whole time he was over, he’d just try to find ways to sneak out and go down to the gates so he could jump any mals that came in. He’s not—normal.”

I laughed, I couldn’t help it. It was that, or slap her. “Would you say he’s got negativity of spirit?” I jeered.

“I’m not being mean!” she said tightly. “You think we didn’t want to like him? I’m alive because of him. The summer when I was nine, we had a lyefly infestation in the city. Not a big deal, right?” she added, in a self-deprecating sort of way, as if she were almost ashamed to complain of anything so trivial. “The older kids had to stay inside while the council figured out what to do, but the lyeflies weren’t bothering any of us under eleven. I was at the playground across the street from the enclave when I got a mana spurt.”

I’ve read about mana spurts in the cheery “As Your Mana Grows” pamphlet that Mum pushed on me, but I’ve never experienced one myself. The capacity to hold mana does expand in sudden jumps for most of us, but you don’t get overwhelmed with a surge of mana when you haven’t got enough of it to fill the capacity you already have. Chloe had obviously been in a different situation.

“I was playing—” she shaped an enclosed space with her hands, “—under the slide, with a couple of friends. No mundanes. And the lyeflies, the whole swarm, they all just came for me. They started gnawing through the shield my mom made me wear. There were so many—” She stopped and swallowed. “My friends screamed and ran out. I couldn’t do anything. It felt like mana was coming out my nose, my mouth, my ears. I didn’t remember a single spell. I still have nightmares about it sometimes,” Chloe added, and I believed her. She’d wrapped her arms around herself without even thinking, her shoulders hunched in. “Orion was walking around the playground edge, just kicking pebbles, not playing with any of us. He ran right in and burned them all off me. I thought he was the most amazing person in the entire world.”

I was trying ferociously hard to hang on to being angry, but it was hard going. I didn’t want to give her any sympathy. The one time a swarm of lyeflies came through the commune, when I was small, Mum had to sit up all day and night holding me tight in her lap, singing a shield over us without stopping until they gave up and flew onward, and if she’d lost her voice, we’d both have died. Chloe had an enclave to hide in, and a shield with enclave power behind it, and surely if Orion hadn’t come to her rescue, one of the grown-up childminders would have dashed right over to help. It was the one thing that had happened to her, the one bad thing, not the first of a thousand bad things. But—I couldn’t help but be with her in it: nine years old with mana erupting through you, being swarmed by a cloud of lyeflies, feeling them gnawing their way to your flesh—I was hunching up myself, hearing a scratcher clawing at the wards on my threshold.

But fortunately for my spleen, Chloe was going on urgently from there, saying, “I spent months after that, following him around, trying to be his friend, asking him to do things together. He always said no unless his mom made him. And it wasn’t just that he didn’t like me. All of us have tried. Some of our parents even told us to, but that’s not why, we didn’t do it to suck up to the Domina in waiting or anything. It was for him. We all knew he was special, we were all grateful. But it didn’t even register. He wasn’t being a snob or anything, he’s never mean or rude, I just—didn’t matter to him. Nobody ever mattered to him before.”

She waved a hand up and down over me, and she sounded so very sincerely bewildered. “Then he talks to you once, and all of a sudden he’s making excuses for following you around. One day he’s got to help you fix a door, the next he thinks you’re a maleficer, then he’s got to help you because you’re hurt. He sits with you at lunch, he even comes to the library when you ask him. You know how many times I’ve tried to get him to come to the library? He came with us twice, the first week of freshman year, and I don’t think he’s come up here since. We even heard he did your maintenance shift with you! So yes, we are all freaking out. We weren’t arguing over whether or not it’s worth giving you a guaranteed spot. If Orion actually liked someone, none of us would think twice, nobody in the whole enclave would. We’ve only been arguing whether or not you’re a maleficer who’s doing something to him.”

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