I didn't sit next to Iroha in demonology. I slunk to the back of the room when she settled in our usual place near the front.
I didn't think she noticed at first, but as soon as class started, she turned to glance at me briefly before returning her attention to the front of the room. Something that felt suspiciously like guilt knotted in my stomach, but I ignored it.
Guilt is a profoundly useless emotion, I told myself.
Professor Neuhaus entered class with his usual tired slump and stood in front of us all with a decidedly exhausted look on his face.
"Good morning, class," Professor Neuhaus said, sounding like he was just moments away from climbing back into bed. "Did everyone do the reading last night? Wonderful. We will not be talking about it today."
That should have made me feel better. I had forgotten to do the reading last night and some hybrid of breaking into Griffin's office, Sylas realizing I was a necromancer, and the horrifying realization that I was turning into one of those bastard mages who'd dominated every facet of my people's existence for the past hundred years had done little to motivate me to do my homework.
So for some reason, I continued to feel miserable, like someone had carved out heart and stuffed my head with wax.
"Alright," Professor Neuhaus said, massaging his temples. "I know this may come as a surprise to you, but I made a bit of a mistake in our syllabus. I forgot the Goblin Market is coming in a few night's time, so we will cover that today."
That announcement had several of my classmates whispering to each other, but I ignored it all and stayed fixated, staring down at my empty notes.
"Can anyone tell me what the Goblin Market is?" Professor Neuhaus looked around the room. "Anyone at all?"
No one raised their hand.
If I was sitting next to Iroha. If I still cared about Iroha, which I didn't, I'd think back to that conversation I overheard her having with Professor Neuhaus when he rather politely told her to stop answering questions in class. If I still cared about any of that, I would stare at Professor Neuhaus and think "What a fucking wanker."
But I didn't. I rather pointedly don't glare at Professor Neuhaus, because, as I said I most certainly do not care about what an utter jack-off he was to Iroha and how that had made him shift from being one of the few teachers at Angitia I actually like to just another twat who I vaguely wished would fall off a cliff somewhere.
Professor Neuhaus sighed deeply. "Goblin Markets are a liminal space, a place we're faeries gather to perform trades and negotiate favors," Prof Neuhaus said. "Now while older students and teachers have gone there to make bargains for everything from greater power—"
But at that point, I stopped listening. My mind whirled with what I'd heard Professor Neuhaus say.
Goblin Market. Fairy dealings. I remembered Cecil's voice in vivid detail when he described how he and his family had spent generations making dealings with the fair folk. Power and beauty in exchange for null children.
Deals…
What could I receive in exchange for my power? For the grimoire in my keeping? The opportunities there were tantalizing, for if fairies would trade power and beauty for a few children, then what would they give in exchange for real magical powers? I could secure a future for myself and my family. One where we'd all be free of Lord Woodman and his plans forever.
One where I'd finally be free.
The thoughts boiled and churned in my mind so much throughout class I almost snap my pen in half while I take notes on Professor Neuhaus's lecture on Goblin Markets, how they reoccur at certain times and places each year, how they likely draw Narrative roots from stories found all over Europe of peddlers selling fantastical wares, disparate stories bound and woven together to produce a magical market where anything and everything was possible. It could grant any wish for the right price, if you know the right way to ask.
I knew, I knew, before class ended, that I would pay just about any price I received to escape my magic. To keep the people I loved safe.
***
I ignored Mason's waving when I entered the cafeteria queue.
I filled my tray with green beans, spinach salad, and two slices of brown bread. I almost walked over to the Lion Hall table. Sylas and the others were sitting there already. Rosamund stood to reenter the queue to snag something for one of the upperclassmen.
I forced myself to turn away and I locate one of the places I used to sit in the week before Mason had invited me to have meals with him, Iroha, and Rosamund. A stool in front of a long bar attached to a far wall. I put my tray down, sat with my back facing the rest of the cafeteria, and did my best to just block out the noise of the other students there.
I was so damn tired. My eyes had a hard time staying open and my limbs felt impossibly heavy. I had slept little the night before, and the strain of this facade had worn me to the nub.
I put a spoonful of green beans in my mouth and it took all I had to chew and swallow them.
A hand landed on my shoulder just as I was about to take another bite, and it's all I can do to not turn around.
"Theo, what're you doing over here?" Mason asked. "It's not our day for free lunch."
"I'm not in the mood to eat with you all today," I said flatly. I didn't even look at him.
Out of the corner of my eye, Mason blinked. His eyes became rounded, and a bit hurt in a way that sparked a twinge of guilt in my chest. I did my best to crush it. Guilt is a useless emotion. I'd known that for as long as I'd had magic, because guilt and shame had been my bedfellows ever since that day I raised my dog from the grave.
"I—" Mason swallowed. "Theo, I really think you should come over. Cecil was frightfully mad when he saw you over here. You need to apologize to him."
"I don't need to do anything," I snapped, fully turning to face Mason, "And I will not apologize to Cecil Baldwin of all people!"
My voice had risen and Mason looked around with a worried expression, like he was afraid of us being overheard. It suddenly occurred to me that Mason hadn't addressed the elephant in the room yet. If he had breakfast with Sylas that morning, which he surely did, then he had to know I was a necromancer. A sorcerer of the vilest and most disreputable discipline of them all.
"Leave me alone, Mason," I said. "We both know you don't actually want to be around me."
Mason blinked. "Why wouldn't I want to be around you?" Mason asked in confusion. "Theo, we're friends, aren't we?"
Friends.
We weren't. Never had been really. The entirety of our friendship was based on my desire to blend into Angitia's student body, and to… to not be alone anymore. I'd been lonely, and that's why I hadn't fought against Mason harder when he'd first started including me in his group.
But Mason never would have approached me if he knew I was a necromancer.
Let alone an Irregular.
Our friendship had been based on a lie. My lie about who I really was, and there wasn't really any point in holding onto it.
"No," I told Mason. "No, we're not."
Mason stared at me with confused eyes and a hurt face. "You don't mean that."
I said nothing. I just go back to shoveling peas into my mouth. After a while, Mason got the message.
He walked away from me then, back to the Lion Haller's table, where I could feel Cecil Baldwin trying to burn holes in me with his eyes. I turned away, back to my food, but not before I saw Sylas was also watching me.
It was then I realized something. Mason hadn't known I was a necromancer. He wouldn't have been so hurt by my willingness to throw away our friendship. He wouldn't have seemed too surprised by my willingness to alienate myself from the members of Lion Hall, for a loathsome necromancer would likely have to bend over backward and try twice as hard to get any Hall to accept him, let alone one as prestigious as Lion Hall. That all left me with a rather annoying conclusion.
Sylas hadn't told them yet. That was the only possibility. Why hadn't he? Was it all just a long game to him? Torment me as long as possible, maybe wait until the worst possible moment to tell the three of them I was a necromancer. A filthy, grave robbing death magician.
Bastard.
I ate my tasteless salad, forcing spinach leaves down my throat.
It wouldn't be much longer. Only a few days until the Goblin Market, and a chance to end things once and for all. I could probably still sit with them. I could keep sitting next to Iroha and Mason in class, keep trading occasional barbs with Rosamund, and even suck up to Sylas, if that's what he'd expect of me.
But I was so fucking sick of my life. Of pretending to be something I wasn't just to survive, and since one of my secrets was out in the open, how much longer until the rest came tumbling out?
A clean break. I thought. That's all this is, really. A clean break for all of us.