My Boyfriend Merlin (14 page)

I didn’t want to move. Ever. Yet, I still asked, “Which queen did it belong to?”

There was a pause. Matt said, “Does it matter?”

Like cold water, his words washed over me. After all the things he’d held back from me, I don’t know why it kept surprising me that he wasn’t finished. Anger renewed itself inside me. His name was not
Matt
. He was
Merlin
.

I broke away from him. “Yes, it matters. How am I supposed to trust you when you’re never honest with me?”

“You can’t trust me?” Matt gave me a measured look. “It seems like you don’t trust anyone.”

“What?” I said with a frown.

“The vision you saw in the Lake water. You never said a word to me about your mother back in Boston.”

“You knew she had died. I didn't even remember the rest until yesterday!”

“And Vane? I saw the way you looked at him when you first saw him—”

“I recognized him from TV—” My eyes narrowed. “Wait, is this about your stupid vision? After what he’s done how can you even think that I’d k—” I grimaced in disgust. “Kiss him?”

“Have you heard of a term called ‘
Silvertongue’
? It is a person who has a certain way with words. There is a power in words. Some can lift you up high. Some can shatter you.” Matt turned. His back to me, he picked up his bag and said slowly, “I have no doubt ‘
Silvertongue’
originated from the rare wizards who have the same gift as Vane. What my brother says, whatever he says, you want to believe him. You might hate him now, but he has a way of slipping through your defenses.”

Matt turned around. He reached out to touch the ruby gemstone. His fingers skimmed the edge of the gemstone.

“Matt.” I said the name with a wealth of longing that kept threatening to spill over and consume me.

Matt let go of the amulet. “I thought you decided to call me Merlin.”

***

After a quick lunch with Grey and a few of the other Regular candidates, we hurried toward the cathedral where the next class was scheduled. I had peeked at the schedule of a wizard student sitting next to us. She had six classes—just like the curriculum back home—except that besides math, all of her advanced classes bore labels like Fire Elements, Water Elements, Air Elements, etc. Types of magic, she explained to us.

Although I wouldn’t have been able to do anything in such classes, I still felt a bit envious of her. It sounded much more fun than a whole afternoon of something called Physical Training. I translated physical training to gym. I was looking forward to it about as a three-hour dental cleaning.

My Friday-night-lights Mom had often wondered how I could possibly be her daughter. While I hadn’t done that badly in fencing, I hadn’t loved it. As for basketball, volleyball, tennis, and whatever sport of the day my mother signed me up for, I had been a disaster since Day 1. And yet, my mother had insisted me trying, year after year, since preschool.

Grey, on the other hand, wore an expression of rabid anticipation. Sometimes his whole master-jock persona could be really irritating. We paused just inside the cathedral and stared around in awe. Stained glass windows shimmered bright rainbow lights onto the white stone floors inside. More white stone formed the walls and curved into the high ceiling. A stage rose up in the middle of the room. Only a few chairs surrounded it, but the space was certainly big enough to fit hundreds of students.

Blake strode by us.

Snapping out of our trance, Grey and I rushed after him. My boots echoed as we crossed to a corner of the cathedral. It was then that I noticed several curved archways leading off from the main area. We followed Blake into one and discovered a turret with a winding staircase. We climbed up to the second floor. It led out into a smaller but still quite large gym-like room with gleaming wood floors. Intricate moldings stood out on the door and windows. Rustic racks of weapons hung along the walls. The room reminded me of a medieval training room except that a very modern gel mat outlined a workout space in the middle.

Vane stood in the middle of the mat. He wore a black martial arts uniform made up of a short kimono and matching loose cotton pants. Except for his shorter hair, it was eerie how much he looked like Matt. The disparaging expression on his face when he spotted me was one I’d never seen on Matt though. So much for the infamous charm Matt had warned me about… not that I cared. From the way he’d treated the poor kid who hadn’t turned out to be a candidate, Vane wasn’t someone I really wanted to try to charm me.

Grey nudged me towards the dressing rooms after Blake. They stood off to the back of the room inside another arched doorway. We split up as he went into the men’s one. Inside the women’s dressing room, a wall-to-wall mirror covered one side completely. Several stalls took up the opposite wall. Ducking into one, I pulled a cloth curtain and tugged on a white uniform. It had been placed in my school bag among with a few other supplies—including a hair tie. I saw no place to store my bag so I lugged it out with me.

“Not bad.” Gia emerged from an adjoining bathroom stall in uniform and posed in front of the mirror.

I agreed. The mirror showed that the uniform fit well on me. I even had shape despite the loose fit of the top and pants. I twisted the flyaway strands of my wavy hair into a ponytail. Gia did the same. Somehow while Gia projected fierce Amazon warrior, I looked like a twelve-year old cheerleader.

“I don’t think anyone will notice,” she said.

“Notice what?”

She smirked at me. “If you sneak out of here. You look like you’re about to throw up.”

“I’m fine.”

“Forget something?” Gia pointed to my feet where my gym bag lay. “You should really label it. They all look the same.”

She took a pen out of her bag and tossed it to me.

I bent down to get my bag as she went around me. The dressing room door slammed shut. I quickly labeled my bag and went to the door.

It was locked. Gia had locked me inside.

I pounded the door for several minutes. No sound came from the other side. Cursing, I stared at myself in the mirror. My face was flush. Wide eyes shone bright. Dark blonde hair escaped in droves from the tight ponytail I’d tried to stuff it into. I looked helpless.

My cheeks huffed in and out like a pucker-fish. For a second, I just wanted to give up. It had already been a long morning. Every time I talked with Matt, he ground me down into a mass of lumpy mashed potatoes.

But was I really going to let
Gia
defeat me this easily?

I marched to my bag and pulled out my iPad. All of the candidates reported offline. That only left one person. I bit my lip, debating it for a second. Then, I took a bracing breath and punched in the message. The reply came back swiftly.

You’ll owe me one
. Vane texted.

Forget it.
I texted back.

No show today = No show period.

I made a sound of extreme frustration. I punched in my reply.
I owe you one.

Two minutes later, Grey unlocked the door. “Vane sent me.”

“I’m going to kill Gia.” I stomped out of the room and into the hallway. “I just traded my soul to the devil.”

The clock chimed, warning us that we were about to be late. Out in the gym, all of the candidates stood at attention on the exercise mat. Gia and Mark snickered as Grey and I approached the group.

“Ms. DuLac and Mr. Ragnar, thank you for honoring us with your presence. If it pleases you, shall we begin?”

Vane stared at me. No one spoke for long seconds.

“S-sure,” I mumbled.

“How kind of you to condescend,” Vane replied mockingly. More of the candidates snickered.

Vane stopped the noise by raising one steely eyebrow. “I am Vane. You may address me as such. In this training class, I will make sure you are as fit as you can be. You will also be learning how to win a fight. How to properly defend and attack. We will start with the basics—hand to hand combat before working up to sticks, swords, and guns.”

A few murmurs of surprise went through the room.

“Yes, even guns,” Vane said, “Although guns are fairly useless against those well trained in magic, the Council has instructed me to include every threat in the curriculum. However, we have a short amount of time for you to become experts in this area—so I will be spending the least amount of time on this part.”

“Is that because Regulars are the ones who most have to worry about guns?” I asked.

“No, DuLac,” Vane said in a measured tone. “It is because we don’t have much time. Period. Don’t worry, though, I’m sure the Council will see fit to provide you with some body armor if you are so worried.”

Vane turned back to address the class. “Our main objective is to become proficient at all of the sword forms. The sword is the most effective way to kill a Gargoyle or a wizard—”

“Why is it the most effective?” I interrupted.

Vane took another long breath. “Swords resist magic. Surely, you knew that. Any other questions?”

I opened my mouth.

“Not from you, DuLac,” Vane said. “Let us give someone else a chance.”

No one said a word.

“I will start by putting you through a simple series of tests. This will determine your ranking. Every other week we will retest and rank again. Every week I will be the only and absolute judge of where you stand—and, thus, what you will learn.”

The message in his little speech was clear. Toe the line, take what he dishes out, or suffer the consequences.

Vane gave us a minute to absorb this. He barked, “Ready?”

 “Ready, sir,” chorused the class.

“Good.” With that one word, Vane set to torturing us.

For the next hour we did an exhausting set of aerobic exercises and karate kicks. I was used to working out so I was tired but not winded. The other Regulars—all in good athletic shape—seemed at the same level. Blake and another one of the wizard girls looked as if they were about to pass out. Vane’s candidates glanced around with bored expressions.

“Next I will be showing you kendo forms,” Vane said. He handed out arm-length wooden sticks. “Watch as I demonstrate. I will only do each form once. Then you will repeat. Your ranking will depend on the correctness of the form as well as your ability to replicate it. If you think you can look at your neighbor to remind you, just remember that they probably don’t know it any better than you.”

We did that for another hour. At the end of it, I thought I would drop where I stood. I was mentally and physically exhausted. Even Vane’s candidates had been challenged by the mental alertness it took to remember each step when your muscles were on fire.

“You will pair off into groups,” Vane instructed. “Each of you will pick one form that you have learned. One person will stand in the middle. The others will form a circle around him and attack with their one form. The defender may respond with any form. You will do this for five minutes each. You will not stop until time has been called. This will be your last test.”

As soon as we started I knew I was going to fail. We paired off into loose groups of five. Blake insisted on going first. He stood in the middle as we charged him.

It was a massacre. No thanks to me.

I dropped my stick twice, but Mark the brute and another one of Vane’s candidates hammered at Blake until he fell to the ground.

“Enough.” I stepped in the middle and held up my hands.

In two strides, Vane reached our group. “There is no enough. You either win or lose. Since Emerson has not voiced his surrender, why, I wonder, do you feel the need to step in?”

I stood my ground. “He would if he could.”

Vane peered down at the fallen boy. “His mouth looks uninjured to me. Emerson, are you able to speak?”

Blake squeaked, “Y-yes.”

“Is that all you have to say?” Vane said. “Hesitation will not work against a gargoyle. If you do not have the confidence to stand up in practice then you do not belong in training. There will be no mercy out in the real world. Do you understand, Blake?”

“Y-yes,” Blake repeated.

“Stand up,” Vane commanded him. “Learn. Don’t cower.” He turned back to me. “Are you going to be his shield in battle too? We do not have time for showboating, DuLac. Your turn will come soon enough.”

I gaped at him.
Showboating?
“I was trying to help—”

“Helping when you’re not needed doesn’t help anyone but you,” Vane said. “However, since you have so much enthusiasm let us tack Emerson’s remaining time onto yours, DuLac.”

“But—”

Vane raised a brow. “Can’t handle it?”

“What—” I could feel everyone, not just in my group, but throughout the room staring at me. I wasn’t about to let Vane win. I marched into the middle of our circle. Blake was still on the ground. I extended my hand to help him up, but he shook his head and rose on his own. He gave me a wary look as he took his place and closed the gap I’d left in the circle.

Vane stood just outside the circle. “Emerson had three minutes left. So you will do a total of eight.”

“Fine,” I bit out.

The next eight minutes were a disaster. I managed to stay on my feet but I was going to have bruises up and down my body for days. Finally, Vane whistled for everyone to stop. The circle broke and he stepped through to me.

“Interesting technique.” He picked up my stick that had fallen after being knocked out of my hand near the beginning of my time. “It works better when it’s in your hand.”

“Maybe you should teach me first,” I replied.

“Really? I had thought that you didn’t need teaching, since you seem to be under the impression that you know everything.”

My jaw tightened. “If I knew everything, why would I be here?”

Gia cleared her throat. “Should we continue, sir?”

“By all means…” Bowing his head, Vane stepped out of the circle.

Forty-five minutes later, I hurried out of the training room. I’d never been so happy to leave a class. Before dismissal, Vane had us line up in order. I was not in last place, much to my surprise. Blake, several of his friends, and some Regulars had been ranked below me.