Page 2 of Half Agony, Half Hope

Corvus found himself looking forward to Cursebreaking. He told himself it was because of the subject material, but that was the thinnest of excuses. With a carefully cultivated friend group and parents who only ran in small, wealthy, largely British circles, he’d never spent much time around Americans. And he may have gleaned, purely by accident of course, that she was here on scholarship. He thought that might explain the enthusiasm, but it wasn’t as though there hadn’t been a handful of scholarship students in his other schools, and they were wise enough to keep their heads down, not drawing any attention to themselves. If you had held a gun to his head, he couldn’t have told you any of their names. But he knew hers. Pearl McCoy. It was a name fit for a cowgirl. Was she a cowgirl? Did cowgirls exist anymore? He wondered if she knew how to ride a horse? Not dressage as he had been taught, but riding wild down canyons rounding up cattle. Why did she have a familiar? He didn’t know a single other person who had one, but her fox rested peacefully in her book bag during every single class, and sometimes he noticed her reach down and scratch behind his ears. Corvus wondered where she grew up and what her parents were like? He wondered why she had come here? He wondered why he was wondering about all of these things? Then he would leave class in a huff. What right did she have to be so interesting? Especially when she never so much as glanced his way?

A couple of weeks into the term, her hand shot into the air with such frequency that he couldn’t help the question that slipped out at the end of class as everyone else filed out.

“Do you truly not care about making friends?”

Eyes narrowing, Pearl turned the full force of her attention on him for the first time. A part of Corvus regretted uttering a word, but the other part was…thrilled? No, that couldn’t be right. Caught in his internal debate, he almost missed her response.

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” The words were icy, and her familiar opened his eyes just to narrow them in disapproval at Corvus.

“Exactly that. I can’t imagine Americans are any more keen on swots than we are.”

An impressive eye roll was her response to that statement, and she started packing her things as though he wasn’t even there. The familiar jumped out of the bag and proceeded to climb onto her shoulders, all while keeping Corvus in his sightline. Pearl, however, didn’t spare him another glance. Corvus had very little experience being ignored, and he wasn’t eager to become familiar with it now. “So, I’m assuming that’s a yes to my question?” He couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face when she turned back to him.

“I’m assuming ‘swot’ is an insult like a few I’ve heard before. Know-it-all. Stick-in-the-mud. Teacher’s pet.” Pearl moved closer until she loomed over the place where Corvus was still lounging at his desk, and having an angry fox on her shoulders only added to the effect. “Let me tell you something, Corvus, and you listen well. If I had gone through my life frettin’ about who wouldn’t want to be my friend because I want a question answered, I’d still be stuck in my small, dead-end town. So if you think wantin’ to know things makes me unworthy to be your friend, you can go pound sand for all I care. I didn’t come here to make eyes at you. I came here to learn.” With that, she strode out of the classroom without a single backwards glance.

As Corvus sat in class trying to squash the embarrassingly strong elation that she somehow knew his name, a thought struck him. He realized why he hadn’t recognized the look in her eyes that first day in class. It was hunger. A deep drive to gather all life could give you before it was taken away. And it was easy to decipher why he hadn’t recognized it - it was something he had never experienced in his life before her auburn waves slapped him in the face as she walked out the door.

Chapter three

Present - January

As soon as Pearl had arrived at Pru’s house with the letter, Pru had immediately told her husband she didn’t have an excuse for him to leave, but he needed to make himself scarce for an hour. Oliver had objected that he was Pearl’s friend too, but Pru just gave him a look and stage whispered, “It’s not like I won’t tell you about it later.” Finding this sound argument difficult to disagree with, Oliver left without much grumbling and with a reassuring hand on Pearl’s shoulder as he walked out.

So, here Pearl was sitting on her hands to keep from wringing them as Pru read the letter, trying to pretend that none of this impacted her in the slightest. It was a vain hope as Pru had known her for far too long. As soon as Pru finished the letter, her eyes bored into Pearl’s. “You’re not going to do this. That uptight, old hag can find someone else to take care of her pitiful library.”

Sighing, Pearl counted off the rebuttals she’d prepared ahead of time. “One, I won’t argue she’s horrid, but she’s not wrong, the library is the finest in the country. Two, it would look fantastic on my resume. A lot of the old families are hesitant to use me because of my…background. It could really open some doors for me. And three, I wouldn’t even have to interact with any of them.”

“Oh, so we’re making lists are we?” Pru replied sarcastically. “Here’s mine. One, let’s call the old families what they are: classist old bigots who are so inbred they can’t think straight. Two, there is no guarantee you won’t see any of them. And three, you have memories there. It’s going to dredge up a lot of bad feelings for you.”

“I’m not going to let that hold me back from something I want to do. I’ve gone to therapy. I’ve worked through this. I’m strong and I want to do this.” Tears began streaming down Pearl’s cheeks, and even as she wiped them away angrily, they continued to fall.

The fight went out of Pru. “You are strong. I just…I was there to pick up the pieces afterwards, and I would fight a dragon if I thought it would keep you from ever feeling that way again.” Wrapping Pearl in a hug, Pru whispered softly. “But maybe this is what you need to move past it. I want so much for you to find a person who lights your fire, but there’s some piece of this that is still holding you back.”

Replying wetly through her slowing tears, Pearl tried to be affronted. “Not all of us can find an Oliver you know. And I would be perfectly happy single.”

Breaking the hug, Pru waved her hand in exasperation. “Of course you would be, but I want it to be because it’s your choice. Not because the wanker still has any hold over you.”

As presumptuous as it was for Mrs. Winterbourne to presume that Pearl remembered the address of the manor, she hadn’t been wrong. But in spite of her strong declaration to Pru, Pearl delayed traveling there for several more days. She finally realized that giving it more time was only prolonging the inevitable. She wasn’t going to suddenly gain more nerve by waiting. Grabbing her bag with purpose, Mercutio appeared as though summoned, leapt into her bag, and poked his head out - more ready to go than she would ever be. One of the most joyful memories of her life was tied to this place, and her magic thrummed pleasantly when she spoke the address aloud. The green sea glass around her neck flared to life, and she found herself in front of gates gilded in gold that opened to luxurious gardens and the longest drive Pearl had ever seen in her life. It was another punch to the gut. She’d never seen this drive before because the last time she had been here, she’d been a special guest afforded the heretofore unknown privilege of being whisked directly into the house.

Even though Pearl had grown up with magic, she’d never seen it so lavishly used. It was as though, rather ironically, winter barely touched the Winterbourne gardens. She could only imagine the cost of hiring gardeners to keep things so pristine and green in January. Sadly, the warmth did not extend to her. After almost a decade in the UK, she still wasn’t used to the cold, wet winters. The long, frigid walk did nothing to soothe her nerves, and she just kept saying over and over again to herself, “You won’t have to see him. You won’t have to see him. You won’t have to see him” until she felt a small paw on the hand holding her bag. It grounded her in the way that familiars were designed to help their magic practitioners focus, but it felt so reductive to think of it that way. Pearl knew he didn’t know the magic behind it. He just loved her.

After what felt like five business days, Pearl finally made it to the intricately carved front doors. Taking a fortifying breath, she raised her hand to knock, but the doors swung open before she could touch them. Rather than a stuffy butler she was sure would be glaring at her severely every time she looked his way as though he could remove her from the manor by sheer force of will, she found someone achingly familiar standing in the front hall to greet her.

Pearl had forgotten just how pale he was. It was like the magic that ran through his veins had taken the family name literally. His hair was so blonde she had thought it was white the first time she saw him. But his eyes were the same rich, deep brown - so dark they were almost black. He took after his father so strongly except for those eyes. They made for a startling contrast to the rest of his complexion, and as it broke most laws of inherited genes, Pearl had always suspected there was some weird familial magic at play. The nine years they had been apart had been disgustingly good to him. He’d filled out his frame, and he dressed as sharply as he ever had, but he didn’t look like a boy attempting to look like a grown man. He was a grown man. But where his appearance had always been rather sharp and severe, his edges were softer now. Rather than short hair suppressed with pomade, he’d let it grow out so it fell just past his ears as though to tempt her to sweep it back with her fingers. When they were young, he rarely smiled - it was usually a smirk as though a smile was too much effort, as though it was dangerous to give someone the power of knowing he was happy. It had been a gift to see a true smile from him. But today, a genuine smile was on his face the moment he saw her - confident and sure.

Gosh. That smile. It was open and beautiful like she was the sun and he was in solitary confinement, having been granted early parole. It was like an arrow straight through her heart. The smile started to fall a bit as he looked at her, and when Pearl saw his look begin to morph into something that looked disgustingly like concern, she realized her emotions must be written all over her face, so she attempted to school her features into neutrality as she spoke. “It was my understanding that your butler would be greeting me.”

A different kind of smile sprang into place - that smirk she knew so well, and Pearl hated that she already knew he was about to tease her. “Ah, well. Fortunately, he is on holiday for the first time in my lifetime. Alas, it’s up to me to take on his duties.”

“Don’t lie to me. I know a trap when I see one. Please tell your mother she can find another cursebreaker.” And she turned on her heel to flee with as much dignity as she could muster.

However, she hadn’t made it more than two steps before Mercutio leapt out of her bag, dodged her attempts to scoop him up in her arms, and began twining around Corvus’ legs like no time had passed. And when Corvus crouched down and scratched behind Mercutio's ears just like he liked, for the briefest of moments, she could almost believe that to be true. Corvus looked up at her with the softest of smiles and dark eyes hitting her full force with sincerity. “Please stay, Pearl.”

How dare he use her familiar to get to her. It was a low yet effective move. And his beautiful face. And she was such a sucker for tenderness. Pru was going to kill her. But wasn’t she supposed to get him out of her system? Maybe this was how. Pearl scoffed under her breath. Yeah, Pru was for sure going to buy that. She couldn’t just fold. Come on, Pearl. Get it together. “Why? What do you get out of it?”

Eyebrows lifting hopefully, Corvus continued to pet a contented Mercutio as he replied. “I don’t suppose you would accept the answer of ‘the joy of a curse broken library’?”

Pearl’s look was withering. “You could have hired any curse breaker in the world and yet you chose me?”