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Rochelle stood, barely noting that her hosts had done the same when she spotted the magic circle centered beneath Cecilia’s feet. This was definitely not the turn-around she’d expected. Aric had said she would be upset, but surely even he hadn’t expected this. “This is your home, so I’ll leave if that’s what you want,” she said, making an effort to keep her voice steady. “There’s no need for violence.” And there was no doubt in Rochelle’s mind violence was what would follow that magical flare.
“You will absolutely leave,” Cecilia said. “Our lives were fine until you showed up, monopolizing Aric’s time and spreading your lies and legs.”
Darnel stepped between them, at an angle that had him mostly facing his cousin. “That’s enough, Cecilia. Stand down.”
Cecilia snapped her focus to him with a sharp intake of breath. “You have no idea what kind of garbage she’s been spewing. Stay out of this!”
“She barely mentioned you,” Darnel said, still calm.
Cecilia’s lip curled.
Rochelle glanced around the room and her gaze snagged on Mitzi, who seemed to have frozen after a single forward step, her hand over her mouth and her eyes wide with confliction and pain. Rochelle looked forward again, recognizing cousin facing cousin as if for the first time. This group was a family, somewhat literally, and they were on the cusp of tearing themselves apart … because of her.
She hadn’t done anything to deserve the ire, but she couldn’t stand by and cause this sort of heartbreak, either. So she turned, squared her shoulders, and started for the door.
“You will leave,” Cecilia said, venom dripping from her voice, “only after I’ve given you a new hole to use!”
Rochelle made the mistake of pausing at the ghastly statement, reflexively glancing over her shoulder in time to see Darnel reaching for his cousin. Cecilia was ignoring him. Cecilia’s magic was already en-route—sharp, solidified, and on a collision course.
Chapter Sixteen
Survival instinct and months of rigorous training kicked in before she could give it conscious thought. Rochelle’s magic flared, and she threw her hands up, as if to deflect the oncoming stone spears. The magic in turn surged forward, knocking into and reversing the trajectory of the pair of spears that had been meant to impale her. One went wide, soaring over Cecilia’s—and Mitzi’s—head and crashing into the wall below the ceiling. The other snagged a visibly startled Cecilia in the side, near her hip.
Cecilia cried out, stumbling and dropping to a knee as blood poured down her leg. “You … bitch!”
“Cecilia, stop this,” Mitzi said, tears in her voice. “What’s gotten into you?”
Rochelle choked on her reflexive apology as she watched the woman across from her bleed from her own actions. She genuinely hadn’t meant to harm anyone, or damage Mitzi’s cottage. It was hard to remember that all she’d done was defend herself from injury she didn’t deserve.
“It’s not too late, Cecelia,” Darnel said. He knelt beside his cousin and extended a hand. “We can clean this up and call it done. Let it go.”
She snapped a glare to him. “Let itgo? Have you not been listening?”
“Cecilia, you’ve attacked a woman unprovoked,” Darnel said. “I’m a Royal Knight. I’mobligatedto intervene. Don’t make me—”
Cecilia swatted away her cousin’s outstretched hand and shoved to her feet. The wound at her side no longer seemed to be bleeding, though her clothes were stained. “Obviously she’s gotten to both of you, too,” she said. Then she returned her glare outward, to Rochelle. “So what are you, really? Are you some kind of spy? Were you sent here to distract the Sentry, maybe try to tear him apart from the inside, since no one can do it head-on? Is that your goal?” Her power rose around her again as she spoke. “Whatever it is, I won’t let you.”
Both Darnel and Mitzi made sounds of protest, but Rochelle barely heard them as her head spun. What sorts of accusations were those? What kind of direction had that conversation with Aric taken? Or was this some kind of misdirect—Cecilia’s attempt to confuse her friends before damaging truths came to light?
Her swirling thoughts cost her. She missed the moment Cecilia let loose another, more powerful spell of violent destruction. It was the rising concern in the next cries from Mitzi and what sounded like pain from Darnel that drew her focus. She looked up just in time to see a veritable storm of fire and rock bearing down on her in a tight, vicious twister.
Something about the sight instantly reminded her of the pain from having her foot set aflame in that cave. It reminded her of the way Denham had left her nerves raw and exposed over the rocky floor and let her sit there, suffering, even after the flame had been extinguished.
A panicked burst of magic pulsed from Rochelle, acting as barrier and repellent, pushing against the firestorm, but this time it only stalled. Cecilia had anticipated resistance.No!She would not burn like that again. She refused.
Rochelle let out an infuriated scream and latched her magic straight onto the descending spell, grabbing hold of it and tearing. She shredded it apart at the smallest level she could, the way she might have ripped up a piece of tissue paper in a fit of rage. Her hands clenched into claws at her sides as the furious, half-petrified energy gripped her, and tears streamed down her face.
Cecilia shrieked, as if in pain, and the fiery twister dissolved. She hit her knees, gasping and clutching her chest, her face pale and eyes wide. “Y-you … you even lied about—”
“No.” Aric’s voice was hard as he stepped up to Rochelle’s side. An aura of anger swirled around him that had nothing to do with magic. The rock spears still lodged awkwardly into the cottage structure crumbled, falling to dust. “Rochelle surpassed the King’s standard in her first month. Everything I’ve taught her since has been advanced magic that she’s learned voluntarily.” He took two steps forward. “You attacked someone you believed to be weaker than you, someone who wasn’t prepared for a fight, and still you lost. If I were a nicer man, I would be content to let you sit in the shame of that, but this was one giant leap too many, Cecilia.”
Rochelle watched as Aric lifted a hand and twisted his wrist. Across from him, obscured from Rochelle’s line of sight, Cecilia let out a raspy gasp.
“You’re under arrest,” Aric said. “Perhaps if you decide to confess the secrets you’ve been keeping, we can discuss your release. In a day or two.”
A muffled sob filled the room from Mitzi’s direction, and Rochelle looked over in time to see the sweet woman collapse onto her sofa.
Darnel clenched his fists at his sides. “I understand, Aric. I’ll … take her in.”
