BOOK 3 - THE POISONS MASTER

 

Chapter 1
Celebration Feast

Joel wiped himself down hurriedly, hung up the towel, put on his pants, and headed for the bathroom exit. He should have hurried, the feast was about to begin, and he had not yet made up his mind as to whether he should wear that wide-sleeved white shirt that Laryssa liked so much or maybe?

He closed the door behind him and jerked his head up to see if Darren was ready...and he froze mid-step, his eyes widening.

Darren was ready. Definitely.

Dazedly, Joel scanned his friend's slim body, wondering where the hell he had been hiding this outfit for so long because he looked...he looked?

Along with his black, sleek, elegant pants and a black satin shirt, Darren was wearing a delicate white tunic that hung below his hips, with silver ornaments that glistened when he moved. He fastened it at the waist with a silver buckle, and it enveloped his body like a shining, silvery-white mist. Around the neck he tied a black and white silk scarf, the end of which flowed over his left shoulder. It highlighted his eyes even more because they now looked as if they reflected the silver twinkles dancing across the ornaments of the tunic as he was moving. It felt as if he was...shining.

Hidden beneath the black wisps of hair, Darren's diamond eyes narrowed as he looked at Joel standing still, lips parted.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked with a little uncertainty in his voice.

It took a moment for Joel to regain his voice.

"Because you look so...so?" he stuttered, not knowing how to put it.

"How?" Darren tilted his head, looking at Joel in intrigue, as if he really didn't realize he looked so?

"Astonishing," Joel said finally, exhaling sharply.

He saw Darren's cheeks flush.

"Stop teasing me and get dressed," the boy muttered. "You said we should be leaving already."

Joel felt a mischievous smile slide across his lips.

"Nobody is going to notice me anyway when I go in there with you, even if I go naked," he joked, and was pleased to see Darren's brow furrow and his lips press tightly together. Hell, he really liked to tease him because Darren always reacted to it in such an incredibly endearing way.

"If you don't stop, you'll end up going there by yourself," Darren grunted, sitting down on the bed and folding his arms.

Joel laughed.

*

The Scouts' Chamber was already deserted by the time they left, the students must have all been in the Central Hall at this point. As Darren followed Joel through the long corridors of the castle, he kept wondering if he was doing the right thing by going with him. He only agreed because he had never attended a feast in his lifetime and he was extremely curious to see what it would look like ? and because Joel was almost begging him to go. The whole school was supposed to be there, along with a lot of high-profile guests from Lavrance, which meant a really big crowd, and Darren felt an enormous uneasiness at the thought of so many people crammed into one place. In the end, he decided that if he felt uncomfortable there, he would always be able to just leave and go back to his bedroom.

A buzz of conversations coming from the wide-open door of the giant hall only heightened Darren's growing unease as they were approaching, and as they passed under the red-ribboned archway of the entrance, he froze in disbelief.

The Central Hall was adorned with Belli's crimson hues. Long, blood-red ribbons hung from the candelabra, reaching the walls and the red curtains flowing from the tall windows. The tables at which they usually ate were connected into two long buffets on both sides of the room, covered with red tablecloths and filled with so many gourmet dishes that Darren had never seen anything like that before. Red candles burned in gilded, ornate candlesticks that rose between the platters. In between the tables, there was a crowd of well-dressed students, masters, and important people unknown to Darren. They started to turn their faces to look at Darren, as they'd noticed him, and as he scanned the crowd, his gaze was drawn to a familiar, tall, dark-clad figure.

Varis was standing at one of the tables, holding a glass in his hand and talking to a woman who stood in front of him, but as his gaze skimmed over her shoulder toward the hall entrance and rested on Darren...his usually frowned brews rose and his lips parted. He looked like he was stunned.

Darren felt the gaze leap through his heart, which suddenly began to flutter unbearably, and he quickly turned his face away, trying to suppress the incomprehensible blush that ran down his cheeks.

"I told you so?" Joel muttered quietly next to him. "Maybe it will be better if I hide you in some corner because this spider is about to devour you with his eyes. Just as some other people...Oh look! Laryssa and Namir are here."

Darren followed Joel, trying not to look around too much because the stares fixed on him were effectively taking his courage away. Joel started to make his way between the guests toward the friends waiting at the table and waving at them, but Darren couldn't go that fast because he was trying not to touch anyone. He could see the heads turning after him, and he felt more and more out of place. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Varis, who had completely lost any interest in his companion and followed him with his eyes until he finally had to turn away from the woman, as he couldn't keep turning his head anymore when Darren passed him by.

Darren felt a nervous flutter in his stomach. He was already starting to regret coming here. What if Varis was going to approach him and tell him something mean, to shame him in front of the entire school?

Suddenly he almost collided with a tall figure that loomed in front of him out of the blue, blocking his way. He stepped back and looked up at the long-haired Hyacinthe, dressed in an exquisite azure and gold caftan, who was watching him with some strange intrigue on his face and with sparkling blue eyes.
"I'm sorry, sir," Darren muttered.

"Ah, you shouldn't be," the man replied, smiling slightly and not taking his intent gaze off Darren. His voice was deep and soft at the same time. "But since our paths have crossed, maybe you would like to drink something with me? You look lost."

Darren blinked at this stranger's proposition.

"No, thank you, sir. I was just?"

"I insist," the man interrupted, leaning a little toward him and staring into his crystal eyes as if he saw something very interesting in them.
"Lord Rodrig?" Darren flinched at the familiar low, sharp-bladed voice behind him, and almost sighed in relief as the man's blue eyes broke away from him and looked at Varis, who materialized behind Darren. "Would you like to join me and Lady Hagiss? She would like to make you an offer?"

"I'll be there in a moment," the Hyacinthe replied haughtily, interrupting the Assassin, and Darren felt his intense gaze again. "I'm a bit busy right now. So what would you like to drink?" he asked Darren.

The boy bit his lip, not understanding what this Lord wanted from him and why he wouldn't let him go, but then he heard Varis' voice behind him again, and it sounded so icy that Darren almost felt a chill run down his spine.

"I doubt this Mongrel boy is suitable company for someone of your position, Lord."

Darren felt a pang of anger at Varis' mocking words, and as he looked at Joel standing with Laryssa and Namir, smiling in amusement, the anger only flared more.

"Would you please let me pass, sir?" he turned to a Hyacinthe, piercing him with the shimmering crystals of his eyes. The man narrowed his gaze and frowned, but Darren had had enough of him and so he just walked past him, on his way to his friends.

"Thanks a lot for leaving me there," he growled, stopping next to them and looking at Joel reproachfully. His friend's lips twitched, but he pressed them together, holding back his grin.

"It's not my fault that some Hyacinthe jumped on you. What was I supposed to do? He looks important. Who is he anyway?"

Darren frowned, trying to remember his name.

"Lord Rodrig or something."

"Oh, he's a Blue Council representative," Laryssa sighed, looking over Darren's shoulder at the azure-clad man. "Apparently he came to school to address some important political issues." Her emerald eyes glittered and her cheeks flushed.

"Don't say you like him," Joel snorted.

Laryssa blushed even more.

"He's really...extremely handsome," she whispered in embarrassment, her eyes darting toward Lord Rodrig. "Oh, he's looking over here."

Joel frowned and looked at her, pursing his lips angrily.

"What did he even want from you?" he turned to Darren.

"I don't know," the boy replied. The back of his neck tingled, but he wasn't sure if it was Varis' or that Hyacinthe Lord's gaze causing it. "Can we go somewhere with a little less people?" he asked.

"But let's take food with us. It's really good," Namir muttered with his mouth full, pulling away from the plate he was holding to add more nuggets onto it. He was wearing a black, stiff jacket and a white shirt that was barely reaching his stomach. He looked like some enormous penguin Darren had seen in the engravings in a book.

"We can stand against the wall by that veil," Joel said, pouring another batch of students punch into his goblet.

Darren could stand anywhere as long as he didn't have to constantly watch out for the students who were hanging around and jostling for snacks. He would love to try some food because everything looked really delicious, but he needed a moment to calm down and relax after what had already happened to him.

"I'll wait for you there," he said as all of his friends started putting food on their plates. He picked up the cup Joel had filled and walked carefully along the table, circled it and stopped in the shadow of the wall on the far side of the buffet. With a sigh, he leaned against the wall, raised the glass to his mouth, and drank, watching everything and everyone. The room was really nicely decorated and the tables were full of exquisite dishes and crystal ware. Instead of the ordinary school outfits that students were usually dressed in, they all wore colorful, beautiful clothes in which they looked so different that Darren had a hard time recognizing some of them. They stayed in their familiar groups, talking animatedly and absorbing everything around them with delighted eyes. The masters were also dressed in their festive clothes, and Darren even saw the massive form of his Guardian dressed in a caftan of the color of the sea depths peeking out above the crowd, talking to some Emeralde guests coming from outside of school.

As the boy moved his gaze further through the crowd, he saw Lord Rodrig, who was now standing next to Mistress Serenite. But he was not looking at her at all, though she kept talking to him, looking extremely delightful in her shimmering golden dress. No, he was looking...at Darren.

The boy glanced away, feeling strange agitation at the still-wandering, intrusive gaze of the Lord's blue eyes, and that's when he met the second gaze. The gaze of the bottomless eyes, black as obsidian. Varis was looking at him as well, and his gaze almost seemed to burn Darren's skin. The man didn't take his eyes off him, even as the woman in an elegant red dress next to him wrapped her bare arm around his black?clad one and moved closer to his ear, whispering something to him.

Darren felt a strange vibration in his stomach, and he closed his eyes tightly, isolating himself from...from all of this. He drank the red punch from the crystal goblet and tilted his head back, leaning it against the wall behind him and sighing. He could still hear the buzz of conversation and laughter, but now it seemed to come from a distance. There was only him in the darkness now, and...he lifted his eyes to meet the gaze of the black tunnels again, but Varis wasn't looking at him. He looked to the side, frowning, and as Darren followed his gaze, he realized that he was staring at Lord Rodrig, whose eyes were fixed on Darren with an unusual expression of preoccupation. His perfectly smooth face reflected it, too, and the boy had the impression that a gentle smile appeared on the man's lips. Darren closed his eyes immediately, isolating himself again from the agitation caused by the awareness of what he had seen.

Was that Lord really...smiling at him? No, he must have imagined it. He certainly imagined it.

The voices of his approaching friends snapped him out of this strange fog of vague thoughts.

"I have to tell you that even when you're standing in the shadow, you look like you're sparkling," Joel said, his mouth full, leaning against the wall next to Darren as he gulped down a half of an egg filled with red paste. "Gods, how good it is," he muttered in surprise.

Darren rolled his eyes. Joel himself wore a gilded smooth shirt that reflected light, and the diamond earring in his ear sparkled with every movement of his head. He didn't need to embarrass him even more with his remarks. Darren also had the impression that these remarks only made Laryssa frown as she was looking at Joel with a strange, growing anger. She looked really nice in her aquamarine dress, but Joel didn't seem to pay much attention to her. Darren knew perfectly well that his friend had been looking forward to seeing her, but now he acted as if he didn't care at all about what she was wearing. Darren didn't understand his behavior at all, and Namir paid no attention to anything but his plate anyway.

"Are those the only things you're doing at the parties?" he asked after a while, when everyone was busy gulping down their food. "Eating and talking?"

Joel snorted. "What else would you like to do?"

Darren shrugged. He didn't know what, but he didn't like doing either, so he tried to understand what else might be attractive about such gatherings ? apart from all the beautiful surroundings and festive costumes. He understood that this sparkly shell was the most important thing, and it was what kept him here. It alone made the fact of him participating in such an extraordinary event truly fascinating. It was the first feast he'd ever been to. He didn't know how long he would have to wait for the next ones, so he wanted to satisfy his senses with everything as much as possible. Even in spite of that unpleasant tingling sensation he could still feel on his face.

"Guess what I've brought," Joel suddenly whispered, looking around vigilantly and taking a small bottle out of his pocket. Laryssa turned red.

"We cannot!" she whispered anxiously.

"We're at the feast. We can relax a little, after all," Joel smirked, turning to the wall, uncorking the bottle and pouring some of its content into his goblet. "Do you want some?"

"Sure." Namir immediately raised his cup. Laryssa pursed her lips as if she was fighting with herself, but finally she sighed and put her cup up as well.

"I don't want any," Darren said softly.

"I know you don't," Joel muttered, hiding the bottle and taking a sip from the goblet. "Well, it finally tastes like a real punch," he smiled.

"That one time was enough for me," Darren replied. "I don't need such things."

Joel rolled his eyes. Darren was fed up with his pushiness. Besides, he was hungry, so he would like to eat something.

"I'll be right back," he said, pushing himself off the wall and making his way to the table. There were fewer people there now, most of them had already satisfied their hunger. He put the cup aside and leaned over, examining the dishes on the platters. Everything looked interesting and delicious, but his eyes were drawn to the small cups filled with white and red cream. He reached out to take one of them, and at the same moment he saw a hand with long, neat fingers emerging from the side, pressing gently against his gloved hand. Darren yanked it away in total surprise and looked aside, straight into the blue eyes of Lord Rodrig, which seemed to sparkle as they were watching Darren's face.

"I apologize," the man muttered. "You first."

Darren pursed his lips as he looked down, feeling a strange tightness in his stomach. Hesitantly, he reached out for the dish and then he heard the Hyacinthe's deep voice.

"It's a dessert called the Bloody Ambrosia of Belli, made mostly of pomegranate, which is said to arouse passion?" The man paused, as if waiting for Darren's reaction, but the boy didn't quite know what to say back to him, so he just reached for a teaspoon. He was about to turn away and leave when he heard the Lord's voice again, "I can recommend a few more delicacies to you."

Darren bit his lip. He really didn't understand why the Lord was still following him and talking to him so...so fondly. He really didn't know how to act in his presence. He knew that the high?ranking lords should be treated with the highest respect, but something told him that it was better to just get out of his sight. He hesitated, not knowing whether to turn away from him or to bow first, but then, from the corner of his eye, he saw a blur of black approaching them, and his heart vibrated warningly.

Oh no, he certainly didn't want to hear any more comments about Mongrel boys.

"I...thank you, sir, but that's enough for me," he muttered, passing him by, but before he even turned, he saw that the Hyacinthe followed his gaze toward approaching Varis and frowned.

He almost sighed with relief as he returned to Joel, Namir, and Laryssa. Their cheeks were already red.

"I saw that he accosted you again," Joel said with a cheeky smile. "What did he want from you this time?"

"I don't know, Joel," Darren sighed, dipping a teaspoon into the cream and bringing it to his mouth. "I really don't know. Give me a break. I want to eat something at last."

Joel frowned, but said nothing more, just took a long sip from his goblet.

"My head is spinning," Laryssa said softly, leaning against the wall.

"And I feel a little sick," Namir muttered, picking up his empty cup and hiccupping. "I must go to the bathroom," he added indistinctly.

Joel snorted.

"No wonder, you've drunk everything at once. This stuff is for savoring, not quaffing."

Namir looked a bit pale.

"I really have to go," he said, staggering toward the exit.

Darren watched him, eating the sweet cream from the goblet. It was really good. The red part was slightly sour and the white part was tender and sweet. He licked his lips and looked at Laryssa and her reddened cheeks. She glanced uncertainly at Joel, pressing her full lips together as if to say something to him, but then held herself back. Darren also looked at his friend, who seemed extremely interested in Laryssa's cleavage, and after a while Joel looked up and winked at Darren.

"You know, I think Laryssa and I should go on a little walk?"

Darren pursed his lips. He didn't want Joel to go away. He had a strange feeling that if he went somewhere with Laryssa, in such a state, they might not be back soon. Or at all. He didn't want to be all alone here, but neither did he want to leave just yet. There were so many things he hadn't tried and watched yet.

"As you wish," he muttered quietly.

Joel smiled, then leaned over to him and whispered in his ear, "Look after yourself."

Darren frowned at his strange advice, but Joel was already wrapping his arm around the Emeralde, his eyes glittering, and leading her out of the hall. Darren watched as Joel and Laryssa disappeared behind the door, then he turned and looked around the room.

All right, Lord Rodrig was busy talking to Master Wolverson. Maybe this time he could calmly walk over to the table and get something more substantial to eat. That delicate dessert had only stimulated his appetite instead of filling him.

Darren walked over to the buffet and looked around, but to his chagrin, there were mostly desserts left there. He set the empty cup aside and walked around to the other table, which was still filled with multiple exquisite dishes, but when he stopped beside it, his gaze involuntarily slipped through the crowd and met the blue eyes of Lord Rodrig. Darren lowered his head immediately, but he already saw the strange flash in the Lord's stare. There was something about that man that really bothered him, but he couldn't pin down the reason for his anxiety.

He reached for the empty plate and looked around the table, trying to choose something from the wealth of dishes, but then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow approaching, stopping just behind him. Darren swallowed, and his fingers tightened on the porcelain he was holding.

Not again!

Varis was standing right behind him. Darren heard his breathing, and suddenly, he decided that he wasn't hungry anymore. The awareness of the man's presence completely deprived him of his appetite and squeezed his stomach. He glanced nervously ahead and saw Lord Rodrig's gaze shift higher to the figure behind Darren. Pale eyebrows arched in an expression that strangely resembled...a challenge.

At that moment, Varis leaned over, and Darren saw a hand emerging from the side, reaching for a cup. He sucked in a breath, feeling the soft touch of a black robe against his back and neck, just as a low, menacing whisper poured into his ear. "You always need to make yourself conspicuous, don't you, Hayden? Are you flattered he can't take his eyes off you?"

What? What was he talking about?

Darren stepped away and looked up at the face of the man bending above him. Varis' black, glittering eyes stared at him with a strange intensity. Even the loud conversations and laughter surrounding him from all sides couldn't drown out the beating of his heart. The pounding in the chest was way too deafening now.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Master," he replied, trying to color his voice with a nonchalant tone.

Varis' dark eyebrows frowned, and at the same moment more people approached the table, shoving and reaching for the plates. Darren jerked away from them abruptly and almost crashed into that tall, slender body in front of him, but Varis reacted faster and pulled away slightly with a soft, exasperated huff.

Darren had problems with gathering his thoughts together. He just wanted to eat something, but of course everything and everyone around him made this simple task impossible to achieve! He turned to put his plate down, and as he looked up to say goodbye to his Master, he saw Varis' gaze rising up hastily, as if the man had just been looking much lower. Once again, that hellishly insolent gaze dove into his eyes.

Darren didn't like that look. There was something...something...predatory about it.

Varis raised the cup to his lips and emptied it in one gulp without taking his eyes off Darren. And only now did Darren understand. Varis must have had quite a drink to be acting so strangely...He should get out of his sight as soon as possible because he had a strange feeling that a few more cups and the man might start to act even more...dangerously.

Darren reached for his cup, and with the words "Forgive me, Master," he turned to leave, but Varis immediately blocked his way.

"Why are you in such a hurry, Hayden? You already got bored with drawing attention to yourself with your--" the black eyes slid down his body again, and a grimace of disgust appeared on the man's lips. "?shameful look? Can you never help yourself? I really don't know why the Headmaster allows this. He should have forbidden you to show up here tonight. This is no place for someone like you," he almost spat the last word out.

Darren felt as if Varis had hit him with those words. He knew they were only intended to hurt him, but he felt them burning a wound in his chest anyway.

Why would Varis...say something like this to him? After all, he had asked if Darren was going to come. After all, the day before yesterday, he had acted like...like he wanted Darren to be here, and now?

Darren clenched his fists as they began to tremble involuntarily. Varis raised an eyebrow. Apparently, the feelings that must have appeared on Darren's face surprised him somewhat...but Darren didn't have time to answer him, as this terrible woman approached Varis, grabbed his arm and said, "Ah, I've found you, Sethus." She looked at Darren with a sour, contemptuous expression on her face. "Not only do you have to endure this untamed, filthy demon in this school, but they even let him come here? How does he get such a special treatment?"

Varis' mouth twitched in a mocking smile.

"Ah, Lucilla...He's the Headmaster's pupil, he always gets away with everything. Especially with his...provocative appearance," Varis almost snarled as he said it. "But he always loved to be in the spotlight. This is his way of trying to shine."

Darren opened his mouth in disbelief. They talked about him as if he was not here and as if he was some...some?

With trembling hands, he put the goblet down, slamming it so hard that the liquid in it splashed on the table; then he passed them by without saying a word and moved ahead. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he wouldn't stay here any longer! He made his way through the crowd, barely holding back this awful feeling of piercing chill that was rising in his chest. He burst through the wide-open wooden gates and walked quickly toward the exit from the school.

He could feel that unbearable burning sensation in his eyes and a lump in his throat...No, he needed to stop it! He wouldn't let this man break him! He wouldn't allow these cruel words to have any meaning to him! It all didn't matter. He's not going to go back there anyway. That nasty bastard wouldn't mock him anymore!

Darren walked out through the main entrance and stopped abruptly as the heavy rain and the gusty wind hit him. He closed the door and leaned against the wall, hiding under the roof. It was cold. Really cold. The wind blew icy droplets into the face, slashing him with them. He could feel his body tremble through his thin shirt and equally thin tunic, but he didn't want to turn back. The rain was calming him down, it was soothing...all these strange emotions. Darren would love to step into its icy embrace, letting it wash off and extinguish everything that what was burning in his stomach, but he remembered what had happened the last time he had walked out in such weather. So he just stayed in place, closing his eyes, sighing, and trying to forget the unpleasant words that those thin lips had hurled at him.
He was safe. Calm. Nobody could reach him here.

The soft, creaking sound of the door opening penetrated the sound of the falling rain, and before Darren could open his eyes, he heard a deep voice: "I can see that I am not the only one who needs a break from this continual noise."

Darren looked at the smiling face of Lord Rodrig, who was standing in the doorway. He lowered his head, avoiding the strangely intense gaze of the blue eyes, and stared at the puddle at his feet, on the surface of which hundreds of small circles kept appearing as the falling drops hit it.

Hell, this pushy man had found him even here. Why did he keep following him? What did he want from him?

"I...just wanted to catch a breath of some fresh air," Darren said softly, trying to set his voice to a relaxed tone. "I don't want to bother you, sir?" He pushed off the wall to go back to the castle, but then he heard the door slamming shut.

"Oh, I can assure you that your company does not bother me at all," the man replied softly.

Darren jerked his head up and looked into the eyes fixed on him. He didn't know if it was the rain or something else, but they seemed to...flicker as they were looking at him. Darren returned to his place, his eyes averted, focusing on the puddle again. He heard footsteps. The man stopped and leaned against the wall next to him, then reached down to his navy blue, gold?threaded cloak and took out something that looked like a cigar, but was slightly longer and much thinner. He sheltered it from the rain with his hands and lit it. Darren caught the herbal scent of smoke. He smelled it too often in his dormitory to not know what it was.

The man inhaled, then exhaled a puff of smoke, and said with a sigh, "I would probably need to catch my breath, too, if that black, intrusive bat stalked me like that all the time."

Darren looked up in surprise. The Hyacinthe's lips were twisted into a malicious smile, and it took a moment for the boy to realize who he had meant. The comparison was so...adequate that he could hardly suppress a snort. He bit his lip, not knowing what he could...what he should answer. He didn't know this man. He was not only a Hyacinthe, but also a high?ranking member of the Council. Darren had a feeling that he shouldn't have talked with him about his Master...and even the anger that warmed his stomach couldn't make him do it.

He felt a curious glance of the man.

"Don't be shy. We are alone here." The Lord waved his hand in an undefined direction. "And I am not one of those individuals who pay heed to the conventions like most members of my caste do."

That much Darren had noticed himself. Never before had a high?ranking Hyacinthe talked to him so openly. As if he was treating Darren...like a normal person.
A shudder shook his body as the wind blew exceptionally hard, slipping under the sleeves of his tunic and folding back the collar of his shirt. He wrapped his arms around himself and pressed his lips together, trying to stop his teeth from chattering. He glanced at the man and saw the blue eyes instantly shift away from his neck and sink into his crystal eyes. Something flickered in Lord Rodrig's gaze again when he spoke in a much less casual tone, "You must be a little cold. Maybe we shall move to a slightly warmer and...more secluded place? Unless you'd rather take refuge under my coat?" He muttered this in a strangely fluid voice, sliding the lapel of his coat back in an inviting gesture and looking at Darren with glittering eyes.

Before Darren understood the strange proposition, he heard a steel cold voice behind the man's back: "Forgive me for interrupting this charming conversation, my Lord, but Lady Hagiss is looking for you."

A hint of exasperation ran across Hyacinthe's face as he was forced to look away from Darren, but he didn't look at Varis who was standing behind him. He closed his eyes instead, rested his head against the cold stones and inhaled the smoke.

"I would be grateful if you could tell the Lady that you haven't found me."

Darren looked at Varis. The light from inside the castle illuminated the tall silhouette from behind and hid his face in the shadow, but even without seeing it, Darren could perfectly imagine what expression it might reflect right now. He swallowed, and a shudder shook his body again, but this time, it wasn't the cold that caused it, but the Assassin's tone of voice coming from the darkness: "Are you trying to insult me, Lord, by implying that I would be unable to find you in my own castle?"
Lord Rodrig sighed and pushed himself off the wall, throwing the cigarette end into the puddle and turning to Darren.

"It won't take long. I'm going to settle this matter as soon as possible."

Darren frowned, but before he could open his mouth, Varis replied for him. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Lord, but I'm taking Mr. Hayden out of here to address an urgent matter."

What? What urgent matter? What did Varis want from him this time?

"And what kind of an urgent matter could you possibly have with him during the celebration feast?" Lord Rodrig asked, lowering his voice menacingly and turning to face Varis.

Darren felt as if the temperature had dropped even further despite the cold, and a strange tension appeared in the air.

"This is a matter between me and Mr. Hayden. Now forgive me, Lord, but you are expected," Varis said dryly, stepping back and gesturing him inside.

For a moment, the two men just stood there, staring sharply at each other, and Darren was completely unable to understand what was at stake and why it felt as if it was some kind of duel, not just polite conversation. Finally, Lord Rodrig moved and stiffly passed Varis by. Not taking the unfavorable gaze from the Assassin's black eyes even for a moment, he walked inside the castle.

Darren exhaled, not even knowing when he started holding his breath, as if he'd been expecting something unpleasant to happen, but he made another sharp inhale almost immediately when he saw Varis' eyes turning to him. Seeing what flashed in them made his stomach twist violently.

Suddenly he wished Lord Rodrig to reappear in the doorway and save him from this man.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Master!" he blurted out, folding his arms more tightly and leaning against the cold stones behind him. His body was shivering with cold, but he'd rather freeze in here than go anywhere with this man.

A soft, menacing growl came from the darkness. "Come back inside, you'll catch a cold."

Darren lowered his eyelids and clenched his hands into fists. He still remembered the sharp words Varis had thrown at him a moment ago; he was still feeling that unpleasant tightness in his chest, which now grew larger and rose to his throat. Without looking at the Assassin even once, he replied with a tired sigh, "Can you leave me alone just this one time, Master? I did what you wanted. I removed myself from your sight. I don't want to disgrace your eyesight. Therefore, please go back to your wonderful company in the Central Hall."

His voice was trembling way too much, but at the moment, he didn't care.

At the same time, he heard that Varis closed the door and walked over to him. He froze, utterly paralyzed, as that tall figure, carved out of the darkness, stopped beside him.

"Do you want to freeze in here, you stubborn kid?" the man snapped, and Darren's heart leapt into his throat as he saw...he saw...Varis unbuckling his cloak and covering him with it in one move. "You're shaking as if you're about to fall to pieces. I won't let you get sick and skip the lessons again. You will come with me now and warm up, and don't even dare to argue with me."

Darren was just standing there, completely bewildered.

Cloak. Varis' cloak. On his shoulders.

With trembling fingers, he touched the soft material, remembering the otherworldly feelings of security he had felt back then...when the man protected him...and didn't let them hurt him?

He looked at Varis, who was staring at him with a sharp, penetrating look.

"I'm not going to repeat myself." Varis pointed at the door. Darren sighed and slowly walked back into the school, hearing the man shutting the door behind him.
"I'll escort you to the bedroom so you wouldn't do anything stupid anymore," Varis said harshly, his gaze wandering to the far entrance to the Central Hall, as if he was checking if any unwanted people were coming in that direction.

Darren felt an icy ray of anger.

"I'm not going to the bedroom. I'm going back to the Central Hall, Master."

Varis' face sharpened and his lips twitched as he took his gaze away from the crowd and fixed it on Darren.

"Don't argue with me," he said menacingly, leaning over Darren, grabbing his arm and dragging him unceremoniously toward the wide stairs that led to the upper levels.

"Let me go!" Darren struggled in the steel grip, feeling that the anger that had been boiling inside him for all this time exploded into a hot flame. "I also have a right to be there! You cannot forbid me!" he growled, fighting against being pulled up the stairs and trying to pull away from the Assassin.

As they had passed the two levels, Varis seemed to finally run out of patience because he turned suddenly, pulling Darren closer, and hissed right in his face with a voice crackling with the flames of uncontrolled anger: "I won't let you go back there. He's just waiting for it. To catch you alone again." Darren opened his mouth but didn't know what to say. Varis snorted in exasperation and continued in the same voice that was gurgling with strange fury. "We invited Lord Rodrig here to start a cooperation with the Council, not for him to devour you with his gaze and to ask everyone about you!"

Darren's eyes widened, and then rage grasped him again in its claws.

"I don't care who's asking about me and who's looking at me, Master. I'll be back at the feast, and you can't forbid me to do this! Lord Rodrig has been very kind to me, and he certainly doesn't mean anything?"

Varis' mouth twisted in a nasty smile, and his eyes narrowed dangerously when he suddenly jerked Darren up and pressed him against the wall.

"He's kind to you, isn't he? You naive, ignorant fool! He desires you! The way he looks at you?!" Varis was panting, blowing a breath saturated with the heavy aroma of herbs and alcohol right into Darren's face, and his eyes were dangerously agitated. "And even the fact that he cannot touch you doesn't bother him...Goddamn it, Hayden! He wanted to drag you into his bedroom!"

Darren looked at Varis with blank eyes. Varis has gone mad! What in the hell could this Lord want from him? Why would he want to drag him to his bedroom? It all was so...stupid. Why was Varis so angry about this?

"I...don't understand anything, Master. Why would he want to take me to his bedroom? I don't want anything from this Lord. I don't care about him. I just want to go back to the celebration feast."

Varis released him and pulled away, trying to control himself, but his eyes were still agitated, burning with those strange emotions Darren didn't understand. When the man finally spoke, his voice was hoarse and slow. "You don't have to understand. He has dangerous intentions and I will not let him try to get close to you again."

Darren rolled his eyes. "But there are a lot of people there. He's not gonna hurt me in front of the whole school."

Varis' eyes narrowed like two dark?filled gaps as he leaned over Darren, one hand resting on the wall next to his head, bringing his face dangerously close.

Then he hissed, blowing his hot, alcohol?soaked breath into Darren's cheeks. "But he'll be looking at you."

Darren swallowed. Now he was absolutely sure of it, Varis had gone completely mad. Everything that he said was downright ridiculous!

"Yes, because only you have the right to look at me, Master," he snorted, trying to turn his head and escape from that piercing gaze that had bitten into his soul greedily, but then he felt a steel grip on his jaw that turned his face back to those terrifying abysses.

"Exactly. Only me."

Darren felt a strange heat at the very bottom of his stomach. It wasn't anger, though. It was something else...something he didn't understand, and which covered his skin in a web of shivers and made his eyes widen, absorbing that possessive glare that was telling him that Varis must have really thought so...ever since he'd decided to engrave it on Darren's skin?

"Is that why you made that mark on my body, Master?" he asked in a trembling voice.

He saw something shifting violently beneath the surface of those glistening black lakes.

"So you've already noticed?" the man muttered. His voice was oddly fluid now, just like the alcohol?dull gaze with which he was staring at Darren. "How do you like it? Did you take a closer look?"

"Yes," Darren drawled, feeling as the strange heat at the bottom of his stomach turned into the flames of anger devouring him from within. "And I hate you, Master, for what you did to me! This is my body, you were not allowed to sign it!"

Varis' eyes flashed so suddenly that Darren flinched. The predatory hand holding his chin in a grip drew him even closer to the man's face, and the scent of heated alcohol soaked Darren's parted lips with warmth.

"At that time it belonged to me, and I had a right to mark it as I liked it," Varis muttered, pouring his morbid gaze into Darren's wide eyes. "And now it will stay with you forever. You will see it every day. And every day you will remember who conquered you...who tamed you...and to whom you surrendered."

Varis' words poured through Darren's parted lips right into his throat, clogging it with speechless disbelief, then flowed lower into his heart, entwining with the sticky web around it and stopping its beating.

"What you're saying, Master, is...insane," he managed to choke out.

Varis' fingers tightened even more strongly on his jaw, and Darren felt the man's thumb stroking his lower lip.

"I'll tell you what is insane," the Assassin said hoarsely, staring at Darren's lips?. and at his cheeks...and into his eyes hidden under the bangs. "The fact that you appeared in that doorway shining with such a light that you overshadowed everyone who came here today, blinding not only me?" The man's finger now slid over Darren's upper lip, sending a paralyzing shiver through his body. His voice was so hoarse that Darren could hardly understand him. "And you won't go back there."

All of this...everything the man had said and done was so...it once again made Darren feel...that strange heat that ran through his veins and dripped on his skin in the drops of obsession he could see in the gaze of the obsidian eyes, that ran lower and lower and even lower...but before it could grow inside him and fill him with its sticky heat, a loud laughter came somewhere from down the stairs and Varis released him in a flash, stepping back from him and croaking, "To the dormitory. Immediately. This is my last word on it."

Darren pursed his lips, still feeling the gentle touch of the man's fingers on them, trying to get rid of the taste of the black glove and that tingling inside and that...gods!

The feeling of burning rage returned, ignited by those hot embers inside him. Clenching his lips so tightly that he almost dug his teeth into their flesh, Darren turned on his heel and began running up the stairs, still hearing the roaring of the crackling flames lit by Varis in his ears, the flames that were now fueling everything Darren felt toward him...fear, anger, hate and this...this...weird something.

*

Varis was standing in the same place for a moment, watching the tiny figure receding; then he turned away and started to go down the stairs, passing a couple of giggling girls from the Archers' Guild along the way. As soon as he walked around the corner toward the entrance to the Central Hall, he saw the tall figure of the blond Hyacinthe leaning against the wall. His arms were crossed, and the gaze with which he was staring at the Assassin seemed almost cutting.

"I see that it's not only the castle that you consider to be your property?" he drawled in a steely, cold voice that had no mark of its earlier joviality.

"You know who he is," Varis snapped.

"I know," the Lord replied calmly. "I already know everything about him."

"So you also know that you are unable to touch him."

The blue eyes narrowed and a mocking smile flashed in them.

"So do you," the Hyacinthe's icy eyes went to Varis' gloved hands. "But I can see that you are always prepared for it. So you also know that there are other ways?"
The Assassin's thin lips tightened, and his black eyes narrowed so that they were now like the gaps filled with dense darkness.

"This boy is beyond your reach...Lord." Varis pronounced the last word as if it was cutting his tongue.

"Really?" a mocking smile appeared on the man's lips. "A man can't often see something so...fascinating." His gaze flared menacingly. "It's hard to take your eyes off him ...isn't it?"

Varis' eyes looked like daggers now. Sharp and ready to cut through anything that stood in their way.

"It will be even harder to do it without them," he drawled.

The man did not seem surprised by this veiled threat. Rather...amused by it.

"Well well. At first, I was invited here to talk about cooperation and substantial financial support from the Blue Council, and now I am threatened with you gouging my eyes out...You have a really intriguing diplomacy here."

"As intriguing as yours, Lord, since our cooperation with the Council seems to depend solely on satisfying the thing that bulges in your pants at the sight of one of my students," Varis remarked, his voice a bloodthirsty dagger.

The Lord's lips twitched.

"Because your pants are so perfectly smooth in his presence," he replied mockingly, staring defiantly into the obsidian eyes, which narrowed so much after these words that they turned into black, glistening, icy blades.

"You've gone too far...Lord," the Assassin hissed, piercing the Hyacinthe with those blades. "I consider this conversation finished."

The blue eyes narrowed as well.

"Me too."

The fair?haired man turned away and walked back into the buzzing room, with his long coat floating behind his back...but the Assassin didn't move. He kept standing in the same place for a while, staring at the Hyacinthe's back with an expression of a deep cogitation on his face. Only after a long moment did he move and follow in the same direction.