from? I’m the mastermind.”
“One day, when you’re done hunting in the outside world, I bet you’ll be teaching here, cracking the whip and terrifying the living daylights out of first years. You and Nathan, securing tenure here for the rest of your working lives.” I genuinely could picture it vividly, and thought she’d find it funny—but her face told a different story. Her eyes turned downward, her expression pinched. I guessed she didn’t know what the future might hold for her. Her father had made a few comments over the last several months about her finding a “suitable” husband—AKA an Atlantean—once she’d put in a couple years of hunting. It was a life she didn’t want, and the topic never failed to put her in a grim mood.
I decided to change the subject and ramble a little to distract her back to her grinning self. “I haven’t seen the pixies in a week, can you believe it? Poor things must be climbing the walls for a bit of fresh air. And mischief. You know, I really owe Nathan a huge favor for letting me take them out from time to time.”
They weren’t supposed to leave the Repository, but I liked to view those particular rules as guidelines. True, I’d promised Victoria that there would be a bond of absolute trust between us, after the Door debacle. But if she insisted on keeping my pixies locked up like criminals, then what choice did I have? They deserved more than that. All of my Purges deserved more than that, but the rest had all gone on to the Bestiary already: a few gargoyles, a minotaur, a couple of goblins, a satyr that had gotten me a bit flustered thanks to my childhood obsession with Mr. Tumnus, and another banshee that had taken me out of training for three days. There’d been a quartet of al-mi’raj, large hare-like critters with twisted horns, and an orthrus, a two-headed wolf that had padded over and licked my face after I’d Purged him. He’d whined like an abandoned puppy when I’d dropped treats into his orb before he was taken to the Bestiary, and it broke my heart every single time. That was only scratching the surface of what I’d created in the last six months, but Victoria had only allowed the pixies to remain.
And she only let the pixies stay because they’re small. Victoria had figured the Bestiary wouldn’t miss them, since they didn’t provide much in the way of fuel. It didn’t sit well with me, that living things could be categorized like that—valued for their size and power and what they could provide for the magical world. There was no consideration of their worth as sentient beings. When hunters brought back smaller captures, or I Purged something on the smaller scale, she always got this “oh well, I guess they’ll do” look on her face. But some battles were too big for a newbie to fight. Maybe, one day, I’d be able to make more of a difference, but I lacked the clout right now. As long as she didn’t find out I was taking the pixies out now and then, I’d be fine.
“Nathan’s smitten with them.” A ghost of a smile returned to Genie’s face. “And Boudicca has major love-heart eyes for him.”
I shook my head. “Poor Spartacus. He’s head over heels for her.” I thought of the pixie trio—Boudicca, Spartacus, Cynane—and my eagerness to see them ramped up a notch. They’d lost so many of their friends, but they were a surprisingly resilient species. Even through their grief, they could fill a room with babbling chatter and make a mess of strawberry punnets. With the destruction they left in their wake, you’d think there were still forty of them.
“I think everyone is a little bit in love with Boudie.” Genie brightened a little more. “Personally, I think Cynane has the je ne sais quoi of the bunch, but maybe I’m biased.” She was named after another badass historical female warrior, to match Boudicca, and both of them lived up to their namesakes.
I chuckled. “Because she’s not after your boyfriend?”
“Not my boyfriend. Not even close.” The electric bristle came back into her demeanor, and I knew her mind was already in the Repository. “And no, it’s because she always comes to sit on my shoulder and helps me make Nathan turn beet red.”
“You only have to walk into the room to make that happen,” I reminded her.
Genie beamed, her own cheeks flushing