And with that he crossed the room as she stepped aside, making his way to her door. His rage was gone, having sluiced away at the sight of her face. Now he was an effigy made of regret and bitterness, self-recrimination and loathing. Had he expected sympathy from her? A second chance? He thought he’d been ready to argue for it, to plead his case, but now that just made him feel all the pettier.
So he’d just go.
Scorio passed through the doorway, out onto the landing, when she called after him.
“They screwed you, didn’t they?”
He stopped, jaw clenched, staring down the steep stairwell.
“I warned you.” He heard his own rage in her words. Scalding and raw. “I warned you, but you wouldn’t listen.”
Scorio inhaled deeply. Her words were lashes across his shoulders, but he welcomed them. Deserved them. Still, he made no move to turn, to speak.
“You were such a fool,” she hissed, moving closer, no doubt standing in the doorway now. “The moment they allowed you back into the light, oh, how you ran up to them, like a scorned pup, tongue wagging, eyes bright with adoration. Pills and elixirs, a hot pool, a chance to sit in on some classes, and everything they’d done to you was forgotten.”
Scorio gritted his teeth, wanted to protest, but the words were ashes in his mouth.
“You’re just like every other reborn Great Soul,” she said, voice growing low and venomous. “Convinced of your own divinity. I thought your experiences here in the ruins would have changed that. Given you some insight into the nature of this world. But no. All it took was one crooked finger and you forgot it all in exchange for—what? A chance to be a House’s latest pet?”
Scorio frowned, looked back at her over his shoulder. “You went running, too.”
Naomi shifted up into her Nightmare Lady form, faster than thought, and her tail lashed out, blurring through the air to wrap around his neck, the segmented joints pressing cruelly into his throat and lifting him right off the ground.
“I went because of you,” she seethed, drawing closer, talons clicking on stone, eyes burning in the gloom. “Which only makes me the greater idiot.”
Scorio wheezed, clutched at her tail, his head pounding, legs kicking a good foot off the ground. “No,” he hissed. “Not… true.”
The Nightmare Lady cocked her head to one side, the manner akin to that of a bird of prey. “What would you know, pup?”
Motes of black were dancing in his eyes, and his head felt as if it were swelling. “Like me… you… dream… of power.”
Without lips, she couldn’t frown, but her eyes narrowed to slits. For a moment he thought she’d disembowel him, her claws flickering, but then her tail loosened, and he fell through its coils to crash into a crouch upon the landing.
Breathing deeply, Scorio massaged his throat and stared up at her. “You want power.” His voice was hoarse, and it pained him to speak, but he pressed on. “Like me. Power to determine your future. To defend yourself. And you thought there was a chance to wrest some from the Academy. To use it. Just like I did.”
“Then we were both fools,” she whispered, stepping back toward her doorway. “Both fools. There is nothing for us at the Academy but abuse and control. It’s a slaughterhouse, and every student a heifer they’re fattening for the cull.”
“Maybe.” Scorio sat, back against the wall, one arm propped on a knee, hand still to his raw throat. “But you know as well as I do that’s where the power is. Out here? Scraps.”
She withdrew into the doorway altogether. “Then if you like it so much, what brings you here? Sniveling and looking ready to punch the floor?”
Scorio felt the flicker of anger return, the reminder as to his fate, and smirked bitterly. “Because you were right. Praximar screwed me.”
She snorted. “I’m surprised it took him this long.”
“He was just biding his time. But he’s got me tied over a barrel.”
“So you came to apologize.” Her tone grew derisive. “Now that you’re being cast out, you came running to your old friend Naomi to ask her forgiveness.”
Scorio considered. “Yeah. But forget it. I don’t ask for your forgiveness. I don’t think I deserve it. But I’ll still apologize.”
The Nightmare Lady snorted, the sound strange coming from her nasal slits. “Don’t play with me.”
“I’m not. My mistakes have come to roost. Given how many I’ve made, it’s shocking I’ve made it this far.”
“Which mistake?” she asked reluctantly.
“Stealing from House Chimera. The vials. Praximar found out. He’s going to tell them if I don’t swear a Heart Oath to throw the tournament and then flush out of the Academy at the year’s end.”
The Nightmare Lady considered, and then chuckled. “Nicely done, Praximar.”
Scorio frowned but fought down the surge of anger. “Very nicely done. Now either I agree to his plan and become further enmeshed in his plans, or I reject them, lose Chimera’s patronage, and flunk out of the Academy at year’s end with a ruined reputation.”
The Nightmare Lady settled down into a crouch, her carapace gleaming darkly, her spindly arms propped on her knees. “Welcome to the real world, Scorio the Abhorred.”
“Yeah.” He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re telling me.”
“What are you going to do?”
He didn’t know how he could tell, given that her voice remained the same, but he sensed that she’d returned to her human form. Scorio pursed his lips, then sighed. “I’d gotten as far as trying to figure out how to kill him.”
This drew a surprised laugh from her. “Kill Praximar? I knew there was a reason I didn’t find you totally repellant.”
Scorio cracked open an eye and grinned at her. “Careful. You’re going to make me think I’ve a chance of earning your forgiveness.”
“None,” she snapped, curling her black hair back over an ear. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t admire your seemingly endless capacity for stupidity.”
“So you don’t think it’s a good idea?”
“I think it’s a great idea. I just don’t think you have a chance in hell.”
“That’s the conclusion I was reaching myself. I could just take his offer and go Chimera all the way, though I doubt they’d reward me highly for losing. It might be better than nothing, though.”
Naomi made no comment but just watched him carefully.
“But… that would make me feel utterly disgusting, so that’s out, too.” He frowned. “Which means refusing his offer and washing out. With my Heart so badly fractured, there’s no way I can beat Jova in the final Gauntlet run without Chimera’s help. I’m done.”
“For one who fought all the odds to get into the Academy a second time, you give up surprisingly quickly.”
Scorio’s frown deepened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Naomi shrugged a shoulder. “Just that I’ve never heard you give up before.”
Scorio leaned forward. “My heart vents forty percent of all mana I take in. And with just base-level Black Star pills, I’ll never be able to consume enough to expand to my greatest capacity. You telling me there’s another way to make Emberling?”
“No,” she said quietly. “Not that I know of. But I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Scorio paused. He knew her well enough to hear the tone of finality in her voice, to sense the distance that had been lurking in the wings and only now stepped fully into view.
“Yeah, I guess I will.” Slowly, laboriously, he pulled himself up to standing. Naomi rose smoothly to her feet as well, her expression composed, neutral, guarded. “You mind if I stop by on occasion, just to say hello?”
She inhaled slowly, considering him, then shook her head. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. I’ve known since we met that you were trouble, Scorio. That with your confidence and recklessness you’d take me places I didn’t want to go. Even back to the Academy. So in a way, I guess I should thank you for last night. For reminding me who you are, and why I should have listened to my first instincts and stayed away from you.”