Saving the school would have been easier as a cafeteria worker

Chapter 108

They'd waited for Lily to get fully dressed before making their way to… well, Cal wasn't sure what they were walking into. The Right hadn't been mentioned, but if the Blessed Order were here, she couldn't be far behind.

That was both a problem and an opportunity.

"Are you sure this stuff is good?" Cal asked, waving a dark green bottle around.

In an effort to stack the deck further in his favor, he'd requested the best bottle of liquor Alice had. Which is when he found out they didn't have any.

"I'm sure it's old and expensive," Lily said, leading the way toward the clock tower.

She walked with her hands clasped behind her back, fingers fidgeting as she took wide steps. Alice had insisted they not run off like hooligans, so while their pace was brisk, it wasn't a sprint.

"I stole it from the special part of Father's cellar," she added. "Since the label rotted off, we won't really know until popping the cork."

Rotted?

He was having second thoughts about this strategy.

"Is this going to get me executed?" he asked, eyeing the bottle suspiciously.

Apparently, today was the day for that.

Lily didn't have further details on who the Blessed Order killed on campus. A fact that worried him, but his list of contacts was low, and he couldn't see who they would have taken issue with aside from the core dealers, the addicts, and—hmm.

Zealots were going to be zealots.

"Give it here," Alice said, holding a palm out expectantly. She held it to the morning light, inspecting the liquid through the glass. "The bottle's intact, and I'm not seeing any sediment. Lily, did you store this correctly?"

The girl didn't turn to face them, waving over her shoulder.

"I put it on the windowsill and pointed a mirror at it," she said sarcastically before shifting to a sharper tone. "No, I stuck it in the bottom of my closet and forgot about it."

That sounded more aggressive than usual.

"The gift is superfluous," Alice said, handing it back to him. "And put it away somewhere. Carrying it like that is uncouth."

Cal looked himself over. The tailored dress shirt and pants did not leave much room for bottles.

"Hand it here," Lily said, swinging a grasping hand behind while facing forward. He put it in her palm, and she slipped it under the front of her blazer.

Alice sighed but fell short of commenting on her behavior. Cal didn't know where else she'd expect them to put it. They didn't bring any bags.

"What is of greater importance is your presentation," she said, doubt edging into her voice. "Try not to…"

She glanced between the two of them in judgment.

"I was joking about fighting her," Lily said defensively from the front. A beat passed, and she scratched the back of her head, turning with a sheepish expression. "Alright. You got me. But I know there's a time and place for these things."

Lily had once suggested they ambush the Right upon her arrival. Somehow, he'd been the one ambushed.

"And because of that," the girl continued, projecting confidence and pointing a thumb at herself. "Why don't I take the lead with the talking?"

The words sounded hauntingly familiar. Hadn't she said something similar before they met with the Duke's sister on their way out to the Waste?

"The last time you said that," he remarked, recalling faint details, "you left me to fend for myself."

He may have ended up saying something offensive, but he could not remember what it was.

"Ehk," she stuttered in step and speech. She recovered quickly, whirling on him and walking backwards, pointing at him in accusation. "That was only because you tricked me into thinking you were competent. This time I won't be led astray."

Cal was certain he'd done no such thing.

"There will be no fighting unless specifically requested," Alice said declaratively. "Both of you need to calm yourselves. There's no reason to be anxious. With the venue on campus grounds, we have leeway on formality. Simply think before you speak."

As if he didn't—right. Fair enough.

"Who's not calm?" Lily asked flippantly. "Please, I'm the epitome of calmness."

She spun around, increasing her pace slightly.

Was she nervous?

"Anyway," the girl said a bit too quickly. "We do have another option, and she did offer to help."

It took him a second to catch her meaning, and then he pretended he didn't.

"I suspect only those directly involved will be in attendance," Alice said, deducing who Lily was referring to. "Though she may be present regardless due to familial obligations."

Yep. No clue who that could be.

"The headmaster didn't say anything about having to talk to the Blessed Oder, did he?" Cal swiftly asked. It was a pertinent question, and that was the only reason he brought it up now. "Do you think they'll care about my religion scores?"

On a human level, he wasn't thrilled at the Blessed Order taking all those casualties.

On a Cal level, he still didn't know what in the hells they'd been thinking. The Federation tended to paint them in a dim light, but if last night was any indication, they'd been too generous.

Maybe that was part of the reason they never conquered the Tribes to the far northeast.

"Lily and I may be questioned," Alice explained in a contemplative tone. "Due to the incident."

By 'incident,' she meant her failed attempt to arrest his alter ego and the subsequent detonation of the warehouse.

The canopy of trees grew thinner, revealing more of the tower ahead. It seemed to infect his very mood, a sullenness falling over him. He wasn't alone in that, with the smart remark on Lily's lips dying as their procession shifted into a silent march.

Quicker than he would have thought, they had entered the foyer. The floors were polished marble, and the tiled roof rested on red granite columns banded with black. It was a busy morning, and while a few turned curiously in their direction, most seemed to have places to be.

As did his group.

The trio made for the grand staircase, passing a row of receptionists nursing teas and coffees. It was a familiar sight, and as they ascended the long, shallow steps, turning at every flight, the volume of passersby began to thin.

They made it about halfway up before being stopped.

"Callum," Benny snapped, pushing off the railing he'd been leaning over. "I need to speak to you privately. It's a matter of urgency."

Alice and Lily shared an expression of skepticism, eyeing the man with growing distrust. Before they could protest, Cal spoke up.

"Why don't you two go on ahead?" Cal said, forcing the reluctance out of his voice. "This should be quick."

Alice inclined her head toward him, asking if everything was okay with her eyes. He nodded, and she returned the gesture before leading Lily away, pulling the girl aside when she tried to shoulder‑check the man.

Benny waited for them to turn out of view before injecting his bracer with magic, enveloping them in a soundless bubble. It was a long shot, but Cal had been hoping this was about club-related events.

"Callum," the man said in a firm voice. "I need the relic."

…shit.

"What relic—"

"I know you have it," the man interrupted, holding out an expectant hand. "Return it. For the benefit of both of us."

This was awkward.

"When you say return it," he said, slipping a hand into his pocket. "Does condition matter?"

Benny's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets, consternation building as he stared at Cal's palm. He seemed to have trouble forming words, but managed to eke out one.

"How!?"

There was a very reasonable explanation for this. Cal just didn't know what it was.

"I'm not really sure," he said, having thought of this scenario briefly earlier in the morning. "But the thing was clearly on the fritz. Remember, it failed multiple times before sending us even deeper into the Waste."

Factual and misleading. Cal liked Benny, but if it was between him and the Arderes, he'd choose Alice every time. More accurately, he wouldn't choose Rolland.

"Do you have any idea—" Benny cut himself off, eyes sweeping the empty section of the staircase. Once done, his attention locked back onto the broken compass. "It cannot be broken."

Cal shook the compass, prompting the man to recoil.

"We can always say it was lost in the Waste," he offered, with a level of discomfort. "Or that the cabin killed it."

Rolland was going to be put in hot water over this, and Cal would have felt better about it if Sebby weren't the one to be put in the spotlight next. Matters of succession were a lot of pressure for a kid.

"It must be mended," Benny stressed in what Cal could only assume was a slip of the tongue.

Uh, what?

"This is a relic," Cal said dumbly.

Need he explain more? That felt like enough.

"In the Waste, you claimed skill in magical engineering," the man pressed. "And I've confirmed that's the case since returning. That means you can repair it."

Those two did not equate to each other in the slightest. He had no idea how he would even begin to figure out its workings.

"I don't think you understand the scale of what you're asking," Cal replied in a measured tone. "Let's just take a breath and—"

Movement caught his eye. It was a boot rounding the corner and coming down the staircase. He didn't dawdle in stashing the relic back into his pocket.

Evergreen emerged a moment later, gaze focusing on him before sliding over to Benny. Without asking, she breached the bubble.

"Mr. Lanius," she said, her tone tightening as she addressed Benny. "Is there a reason you are delaying the proceedings? We are nearly out of time, and I will not tolerate the Lady Hand waiting on a—student?"

That was odd phrasing. It sounded like she was about to say something else.

"Apologies, Deputy Headmistress," the man said with a blank face. "If I may—"

"You may not," the woman rudely interjected, turning on her heel and beginning her ascent. "Come along now."

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Benny's face turned dark, but a blink later, the expression was gone, replaced with a mask of indifference. Cal made to speak, but the man shook his head tersely, a look of warning in his eye.

With nothing able to be said, they ascended toward the unknown.

—

Cal had once called the headmaster's office large enough to be a sparring ring, and that description had never felt more apt than now.

The trio of couches had been moved closer to the absurdly long five‑meter desk, forming a loose rectangle.

On the left—rather than behind his desk—stood the headmaster. Victor wore a hard expression, one hand held behind his back, and the other gripping his staff.

Alice and Lily were grouped nearer the center, standing behind one of the sofas. To their right, opposite the headmaster, was Rolland, arms braced on the back of a couch where Ferguson lounged with his feet up.

The former Finger had a bandage wrapped around the top half of his head. One arm scratched his large belly, the other conspicuously absent. He was in loose grey shorts and pants, but it wasn't his normal attire, appearing more like pajamas than anything.

Only one other person was seated, but she wasn't on a couch or in a chair. Cross-legged atop the headmaster's desk sat the Right. Her eyes were closed, her brown mane—marked by a single white streak—cascading down her back. Without the cloak of sand, he could see her clearer than last night.

Matching her father, she wore greys, with fur-lined boots, thick trousers, and a sleeveless vest. The top was shaggy, clearly from a beast's pelt. It stood in stark contrast to her almost golden skin tone, further defined by clear-cut muscles.

He filed in with Alice and Lily, noting Evergreen hovering near them and Benny joining Rolland. There was an odd silence, and he sent a questioning glance toward Alice, who gestured toward the woman's side. An hourglass-shaped clock was placed there, small enough to fit in a palm. Grains of sand trickled through it, and he grasped her meaning.

They were on a Hand's time.

It wasn't long, maybe twenty seconds, before hazel eyes flicked open. They went from left to right, evaluating the room at a crawling pace.

"Is this everyone?" she asked in a soft yet commanding voice.

If a room itself could stand at attention, Cal felt like it would have. As it were, Evergreen was the one to step forward, donning a pleasant smile.

"Lady Hand, it brings us great joy—"

"Yes or no," the woman said bluntly. The glass timer beside her flipped, restarting the clock for reasons he didn't know.

"Yes," Evergreen supplied, the strain barely audible.

The Right didn't acknowledge her answer outright. Her hands moved to her belt, unclipping her weapons. The chisel rested loosely against her leg, and she twirled the hammer once before her arm extended, pointing directly at Lily—who went rigid.

He resisted the urge to get between them, common sense narrowly beating out his instincts.

"I—," the girl said, resembling a deer in headlights. "I'm Lily, I mean, Lilliane Arcutien. We actually—"

She dipped into an abrupt curtsy, only to have the bottle slip from under her uniform. It tumbled down, and usually nimble fingers failed to grasp it, knocking it forward instead. She dove after it, falling over the couch and onto the floor. Landing on her back, she held the bottle to the air, eyes alight with a mixture of victory and despair.

"Got you a gift…" she said, each syllable weaker than the last.

Ancestors, she was a bloody train wreck. What happened to the cool and collected Lily who declared her intention to fight the world? The rapidly hyperventilating girl on the floor wouldn't know.

He made it a single step when the Right's flat, uncompromising voice echoed across the expansive office.

"I abstain from alcohol."

Fuck.

"Ease up on the lass," Ferguson said, huffing at the woman who was his daughter. "There's no need to be harsh with her."

Hazel eyes bored into him, their stare unreturned by the blinded man.

Cal lowered himself to the ground. He edged around the sofa, keeping his eyes on the Right while stretching a hand toward Lily.

"Strange," the woman said with an odd inflection in her voice. Her head tilted, hair falling to the side. "I can't recall if you were ever as considerate with me, Pa."

That did not sound like the term of endearment it should have been, and he grabbed Lily's leg, slowly dragging her away. It was a bit silly, but he felt like any sudden movements would be met with a retaliatory strike.

"Alena," Rolland said with that plastic smile of his. "Your visage is a sight for sore eyes, and I have to say, what you've done with your hair is remarkable."

The hammer disappeared, and Cal only noticed its destination when Ferguson's foot lashed out. It was kicked away with a clap, zipping back to her waiting hand.

Did she just try to assassinate the crown prince???

"What did you do to your mum's hair?" the former Finger barked his question, pushing himself further up the couch's armrest.

The Right slammed her chisel against the black stone desk, chipping off a piece of it.

"What did you do with your arm and eyes?" she fired back, voice dripping with hostility. Her intense gaze snapped to Rolland for a moment, head pulling back as she inspected him with a measure of distaste. "Your Highness, just because my father finally chose to act like one with you does not make us family. Use my proper address, or I'll have words with your true father over your disrespect toward his Hand."

Cal finished pulling Lily behind the safety of the couch, and she seemed to come to her senses, popping the cork and chugging the wine like her life depended on it.

He could see Alice's face turn aghast, but he wasn't about to stop the woman.

"That's not—"

The chisel took out a chunk of the desk.

"Fair?" she challenged, hunching forward with a cold fury in her voice. "Which part, Pa? Was it when you only remembered us after Mother passed? The tantrum you threw afterward? The one I had to—yet again—clean up? Or was it this latest fiasco? When I ask one thing of you and you end up maimed."

It was occurring to him that maybe saving her dad's life counted for far less than he originally assumed.

"You're a Hand," the blind man argued, his tone wavering. "You know what the position costs."

A pressure descended on the room, saturating the air. His skin began to itch, and he noticed the dribble of wine along Lily's chin dry in an instant.

"Then you shouldn't wonder why your line ends with me," she said with a growl.

Ferguson's chapped lips remained sealed, regret merging with pride in a complex display of emotion.

One of her legs uncrossed, falling down the desk's side. It kicked back and forth, banging against the stone. Her gaze turned to the headmaster, who'd stayed rooted in place while his workstation was defaced.

"Don't pout, Victor," she said, her tone lowering in severity. "It's an imitation piece. I know the original is stored somewhere in the bowels of the Academy."

That didn't seem to alleviate the man's mood, but he didn't speak a word of protest against the Hand of the Emperor.

Cal could relate. He had enough family drama of his own to keep his nose far away from this. No, he'd wait until she cooled down before saying anything. As her attention shifted, he realized it may not be his choice.

"Then, if the girl with the empty bottle is Lilliane," she said, eyes moving from the headmaster to the couch they hid behind, and then slightly higher. "Then you must be Alice."

Cal rose to his feet, straightening his shirt in the process.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Hand," she said with a slight bow of the head, forgoing the curtsy Lily had opted for.

The woman hummed, cold eyes inspecting her for a moment. If they found anything, she didn't comment on it, centering on him next.

Her expression remained stony, even as a small chortle left her lips.

"Callum Ardere," she said smoothly, as if the words were familiar to her. "The one who slew the demon itself."

Hazel eyes met crimson, and in that instant, he knew.

"The rest of you out," she stated, the demand met with a wave of confusion. "Must I repeat myself? Out."

She motioned toward the door, unleashing a raw tide of magic. It slid him and the others back, but it wasn't strong enough to force them through the air. His mouth felt dry all the same.

"Pa," she said derisively. "If you want to be of use for once, control your former countrymen. I can't have those imbeciles executing every witness they come across for their sensibilities."

Executing witnesses? He couldn't bring himself to care about that right now.

Feet began to shuffle; no one was willing to voice opposition. Cal didn't move, holding the woman's stare.

Alice hauled Lily to her feet, glancing at the Right and then at him. Her face was tight, and she leaned in with a whisper.

"Remember your rights as a noble of the Empire," she said, offering a look of encouragement before withdrawing.

Cal didn't react to her words, focused on the woman seated casually ahead. He heard the steps grow fainter, and then the set of doors shut.

That left him alone with one of the strongest people on the continent.

Beside her, he noticed the last grain of sand had fallen.

"Did you know?" the woman asked with a deceptively light tone. "When my Emperor sent the missive, it went with a number of conditions. The most prominent of which was to keep that butcher of a woman far from our shores."

He didn't bother summoning his magic. If this fight were to be won, it would be with words, not fists.

"They must have gone hoarse with laughter after deciding to send you," she said, hopping off the desk and approaching him with steady steps. "Oh, son of death."