Unbound (Unbound, Book 1) ~Formerly Casting Power~

Chapter 34

The dining room was through a small parlor that sat to the left of the entryway. I didn't want to talk to Devland after finding out that I couldn't make calls to my friends in Briarville, but I assumed I didn't have a choice—if I didn't go, he would come to get me.

When we were seated at opposite ends of the enormous black lacquered dinner table that could seat at least twelve, it was a good surprise. There would be no room for chitchat or in-depth conversation. I would be free to eat my meal and return to my room to unpack the miniscule belongings we'd brought from Briarville. Another shipment of my things would arrive in a few days with movers Devland hired, but I already had what I cherished with me.

The room was huge, just like the others I'd seen so far. It had vaulted ceilings with blocks of stained glass at its peak and dark wood furniture: a hutch with specialty china and silver utensils, a long side table topped with a massive flower arrangement inside of a porcelain vase, and a small bar in the corner.

The butler, who I assumed to be Gerard, served a small, tasteless tossed salad to start that I didn't touch. I devoured the delicious plate of chicken stir-fry on rice presented next, which was served with a side of cheesy garlic bread. It was my favorite home-cooked meal, since Greek Salad didn't count as cooking, and I figured that I would only be punishing myself by refusing to enjoy it.

"Noreena," Devland called from the opposite end of the table.

I looked up and saw that he'd been watching me with amusement. Above him hung the only painting in the room, a colorful abstract that deflected from the dreariness.

"Yeah?" I cleared my throat. "What is it?"

"Let's go into my office and talk, shall we?" He stood, expecting me to be obedient.

I went only because I wanted to know what was going on with my phone.

We walked back through the parlor to the entryway, where he turned and opened a door on the left. I was shocked to find a room that was modern and minimalistic, a direct contradiction to what I'd seen of the rest of the house so far. The couch was a black futon with a metallic frame. It matched the two chairs that sat on the opposite side of his glass desk, for which only a small MacBook sat. The entire wall behind him was a floor to ceiling shelving unit made of glass, every inch of its shelves covered in books ranging from law and the Craft to poetry and art. The heavy sun-blocking curtains were drawn, and the room seemed dark with a standing lamp as its only source of light.

Devland motioned for me to take one of the two chairs across from him while he took his leather office chair behind the desk. He steeped his fingers and rested their tips on the bridge of his slanted nose, his elbows resting on his desk.

Was this his comfort zone?

Devland as dull as his office.

"I've been in touch with Grimas. Since the year has already begun, they feel that the sooner you start, the better chance you have of catching up to the other students," he explained without feeling. "The school and I have decided that you must start right away, beginning first thing tomorrow morning. I'm sorry that you haven't had the proper time to get settled in first, but..." He shrugged.

He didn't look sorry. In fact, if I wasn't mistaken, he seemed almost smug.

"Mom just died. It's been less than a week since my last day at Pederson. I am not going to enroll tomorrow." I rolled my eyes. "I'll start the catching up on Monday."

"This isn't a debate, Noreena," he said. "You will be starting school tomorrow. Now, you have a meeting in the office to discuss your schedule at a quarter past eight in the morning. I don't want you to be late. Just because you don't know anyone here does not mean that I won't ground you." He placed a stack of pamphlets in front of me. "This is the bus schedule for students. I've already emailed the office a copy of your transcripts and the schedule you had at Pederson so that you may be enrolled in as many corresponding classes as possible."

"Do you think that threatening to ground me will work as an incentive for me to do something you want? Did you consider how I might be feeling? My mother just died. My mother's friend and mentor, who I had to identify in the city morgue alongside her, just died. Not to mention our dog—Opal died too. You expect me to carry on and begin school as though none of this affects me? Are you mad?"

"As I said, this is not up for debate," he said, again without inflection. "I know what I am asking of you may be hard, but the sooner that you start school, the better it will be, you'll see."

"I hate you," I spat, getting out of my chair and moving towards the door. "I don't even have the books to start school with."

"You'll find that that is all provided in the desk of your room. If you look in your closet, there's an assortment of bags to choose from."

"Turn off whatever restriction you have placed onto my phone or I will buy a new one."

"My magic won't discriminate over which phone you use, Noreena. You need time to adjust without a lifeline to your past hanging over our heads. By staying in contact with those people, you will not be able to move on. You must understand this."

"Only a crazy person would understand what goes on in that head of yours, so no, I do not understand. I want my life back!"

I slammed the door and ran up the stairs to my new bedroom. How could someone be so insensitive? No wonder he looked so comfortable in that office. He was just as emotionless.

* * * * *

Once I made it back to my room, I began pulling things out of my boxes, taking my frustration out on the inanimate objects instead of running back down to Devland's office and punching him in his uptight nose. He hadn't even bothered to deny that he'd done something to my phone. He didn't give a you-know-what about how I felt or if I was ready to go to school. It was inhumane and completely unfair.

I pulled out the few belongings that I cherished enough to bring with me from my mother's bedroom and office. I was still wearing her necklace, but after a long day of packing with Julian and Nancy by my side, I'd accumulated more.

It was funny, but most of the items I couldn't part with were a part of or had a close relation to practicing the Craft. Her altar tools, ceremonial robes, and an array of stones and remedies that people had always come to her for. I placed a photo album beside my bed on the nightstand. I'd brought only one other piece of jewelry with me from Briarville, a ring that my mother had which I now wore. It wasn't expensive in its simple silver band of entwined rope, but she had received it from her parents as a last gift before they'd passed away. The inner inscription was so faded I couldn't read it, but maybe I'd learn a spell someday that would show it to me.

At the very bottom of the box of my mother's things was the Book of Shadows that she'd been filling at the time of her death. We had searched for more without luck. Astrid Bolder, Julian's mother, was going to continue to pack the things inside of the house and ship them to me, so I hoped the rest of her books would show up then. I didn't want to lose the chance to connect with my mother. It was the most important thing I had, like a final glimpse into her thoughts.

I crawled into bed with her book tucked under my arm as a child would hold their teddy bear for comfort. Pushing everything else from my mind, I tried to sleep, hoping that I would dream of my mother.