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I wasn’tfailing. I just wasn’t acing it like my other classes because the Wicked Witch of the West hates me.
“I’ve spoken with Professor Anderson. She’s agreed to take a trip with me to Charlemont to review a project Teddy’s been working on there with me. She’ll decide if it’s adequate to substitute for Teddy’s midterm,” Lords says, shocking the fuck out of me.
When I glance at him, his bearded face is impassive, but there’s a twinkle in those Captain America blues.
I look down at my lap, where I’m twisting my engagement ring around and around my ring finger to keep from exploding. Give Lords credit where credit’s due, he said he’d handle my Greenwitchery prof. He’s a man of his word.
“Very well.” Dean Gravka’s thin mouth twists. “If Ms. Nowak passes both Early History of Magic and Greenwitchery, she won’t be expelled.”
There’s a heavy silence. I knew I was in trouble. I didn’t realize the stakes were quite so high. The unfairness of it all curdles my gut and I open my mouth to vent that bile.
Dean Quinn taps whatever’s on the paper in front of her. “I won’t agree to expulsion no matter what Ms. Nowak’s midterm grades. It’s the policy of Bevington College to expel failing freshmen after theendof their first semester, not at midterms. Moreover, even students with a D average, which Ms. Nowak already has, are given a chance to raise their GPA over Winter Study with access to special tutoring.”
Dean Gravka sneers. “Addlestone has higher standards.”
“It’s fortunate those don’t apply here,” Dean Quinn responds serenely. “Ms. Nowak, under the circumstances, I’m inclined to dock your Early History of Magic midterm by thirty percent. Your other grades,includingGreenwitchery, will stand as awarded by your professors. That’s what I’ll recommend to the academic committee and I’m sure they’ll agree with me.”
“Thank you, miss.”
She’s made my case for me. I may not be able to walk away from a fight, but I know to shut my face when the battle’s won.
Or mostly won. I’m not looking forward to Doctor Prince’s exam. Charlie’s already told me it was the hardest test he’s ever taken. But without the absurd daily penalty Dean Gravka was lobbying for, hopefully I’ll have a few days to review and ace the fucking thing.
“Very well, if that’s all—” Dean Quinn begins.
“One more point of order,” Dean Gravka says, with such an ugly sneer my blood goes gelid. “Ms. Nowak’s power must be bound. For her own safety. We can’t have her accidentally Time-Walking into the future again.”
I swallow. I’d almost rather quit school than let them bind me. I told future-Gabe I’d try to come back to him. He didn’t want me to keep Time-Walking, but surely he’s wondering if I’m okay?
“I agree,” Doctor Prince says. My eyes flash to hers, but I only see that unsympathetic intelligence staring back at me. “I’ve already prepared the binding.”
She pulls a velvet bag out of her pocket and sets it on the table. Such a pretty wrapper for such an evil thing. I expect her to pull a snake or sommat out of it. Instead, she draws out two bracelets of shiny metal. I’m not sure what the metal is. It doesn’t look quite like gold, or silver, or copper, or any other metal I’ve seen. It’s rust-colored, with a faintly iridescent sheen.
She slides the bracelets across the table to me.
“Put them on, Teddy,” she says quietly. “Now.”
Swallowing hard, biting my lower lip which wants to tremble, I pick them up and snap them around each wrist.
I don’t feel anything. There’s no sense of constriction or suffocation. But I don’t doubt that I’ll fall asleep and wake up in the same place and time.
“Excellent,” Dean Gravka says, patting the table. “Now we’re done. Have a nice day, Ms. Nowak. Mr. Lords, a moment of your time, if I may.”
Everyone starts to rise. The weight of everything that’s happened, a leaden load that feels a lot like betrayal, keeps me in my chair.
“Teddy, if you’d remain behind for a few minutes, I’d like to speak with you once I’m finished with Dean Gravka,” Lords says.
I nod without lifting my eyes from the things on my wrists.
Everyone files out of the conference room—the same conference room Lords first interviewed me in, where he terrorized Gabe and told him he was a suspect in Jade’s murder—while I remain in my chair. As Madame Serpa passes me—well, as she detours all the way around the table to pass me—she squeezes my shoulder.
I know what that squeeze means: buck up, bucko, as me mum used to say. It never made me feel any better when she said it, either.
I manage a nod but don’t look up.
Five minutes pass. Ten. Fifteen. I stay sitting, staring at the polished but slightly scuffed surface of the table, my mind turning aimless circles of anger and resentment and uncertainty.
The door opens and closes. Expecting Lords, I look up.
