Chapter 33: Seven Days to Pay

Chapter 33: Seven Days to Pay

Gareth had already begun deciding which messenger to use when Silas turned toward the dais.

"Vice Principal, would you witness the agreement and issue a contract under your authority?"

"We’ve all heard it," Gareth said.

Silas gave him an unpleasantly mild look. "Then putting it in writing should be easy."

The vice principal closed the file before her.

"I will authorize restitution in place of Gareth Rooke’s semester suspension. The finding of coordinated misconduct and assault will remain on his record. This agreement does not alter Lydia Rooke’s sentence."

Gareth nodded too quickly. He made himself stop.

"Seven days for delivery," Silas said. "Both the money and the metal."

"I have to contact my family," Gareth said.

"Yes," Silas said. "That’s why I’m giving you seven days."

The vice principal held out her hand. A narrow opening appeared beside her fingers, and a rolled sheet of parchment slipped through it.

Several people in the gallery leaned forward. Someone whispered, "Spatial storage," with such naked envy that Gareth would have despised him for it on any other afternoon.

He had never seen a treasure like that used at such close range. The opening vanished before he could make out where the vice principal wore it.

The parchment unrolled. Light flowed from her hand, filling the blank surface with close, dark writing.

"Payment may be delivered into the academy’s custody for transfer to Silas Rooke," she said. "The adamantite will be weighed and assayed. Concealment of assets, deliberate evasion, and fraudulent substitution will constitute breach. An unavoidable obstruction must be reported to me before the deadline, with evidence. I will determine whether an extension is warranted."

Gareth listened carefully. He would pay. The money was there, and so was the metal, unless his father did something foolish after hearing from Celia.

Don’t touch it. Just wait for my message.

The parchment floated across the chamber and stopped in front of him.

He read the amount twice. Beneath the delivery terms, a final clause bound his life against deliberate breach.

His mouth went dry.

"A life penalty?" he asked.

"For knowingly breaking an agreement you are asking this court to enforce," the vice principal said. "You may refuse the contract. In that case, I will determine the disciplinary penalty without this settlement."

Lydia was gripping the edge of the bench. His friend said nothing.

Gareth had signed mana-bound undertakings before. He knew what an oath fastening around the Core felt like. This was harsher, but he could satisfy it. He had to remember that. Seven days was enough.

He bit his thumb and pressed it against the space beside his name.

The blood disappeared into the parchment.

Something closed around his heart.

Gareth jerked, bringing his clean hand to his chest. For a moment, he couldn’t draw enough air. The pressure settled beneath his ribs, precisely where each beat moved against it.

His Mana Core was untouched.

He looked at the vice principal. She was watching the writing rearrange itself at the foot of the page.

A Contract of Death.

He had heard the name in advanced instruction, alongside forms of binding their instructor had admitted she could not produce. There would be no skilled relative loosening this oath, no fortunate damage to the channel carrying it. His heart would stop when the contract judged him in deliberate breach.

The vice principal lifted her red eyes.

"Is there a problem?"

Gareth lowered his hand. His thumb was still bleeding.

"No, Vice Principal."

Silas watched Gareth wipe his hand with a cloth the attendant offered him.

He knew that look from the game. The contract’s name had been memorable enough even before he had a personal use for it.

The vice principal turned the parchment toward him. His portion acknowledged the agreed restitution and his withdrawal of the request for Gareth’s suspension. Silas read it carefully before signing where she indicated.

The writing settled. A duplicate separated from the original, then another; the clerk collected the court’s copy while the others drifted to the two Rookes.

Silas took his by the edges.

Part of him hoped Gareth would try to cheat. After last night, after hearing how casually they had arranged to throw him out, he would be a little happier knowing his cousin could never try again.

But he could use the money. He could use it badly enough that his eyes kept returning to the amount on the page. A proper set of weapons, medicine without counting what remained afterward, evenings when he could stop working because he was tired. He had spent too much of both lives needing someone else to pay him before he could rest.

Gareth’s expression made it clear that no gratitude would follow the settlement. Silas hadn’t expected any. In the game, Gareth had arranged his cousin’s death after the expulsion. He would have done it again, and Silas would be a fool to give him another chance.

Silas folded the contract without creasing the writing.

The vice principal called Renn Harker and the two students back to the front. Each received a one-month suspension for knowingly supporting the fabrication. Their admissions had reduced the penalties; they hadn’t erased the offense. Renn tried to ask whether he could remain for an assessment scheduled the following week.

"Your suspension begins today," the vice principal said.

Renn went back to his place with his eyes on the floor.

The clerk read the final entries into the record. Lydia’s semester suspension stood. Gareth’s restitution had been formally substituted for the same penalty, with the finding against him retained. No finding was made against his Star Class friend, who had not known about the scheme.

The vice principal addressed the student panel before dismissing them.

"The earlier disciplinary reports remain valid. They did not establish what happened in that room. Remember the distinction when you next sit on this bench."

The chairwoman nodded. She avoided Silas’s gaze as she stood.

He didn’t try to catch it. His cheek ached, and the cup beside him had been empty for some time.

When the hearing ended, everyone seemed to remember somewhere else they urgently needed to be. Lydia left with the attendant and an officer. Gareth followed after speaking quietly to the clerk about the delivery arrangements. He looked back once.

Silas was putting the recorder into its box. He kept doing it.

Talia waited near the aisle until the officer returned his belongings and confirmed that the restriction on his room had been lifted. Then she came over.

"Can you manage the stairs?" she asked.

"I managed them yesterday."

"Someone was holding you upright yesterday."

Silas looked at her, then down at the box. "I’d rather walk slowly."

"Then we’ll walk slowly."

They left through the side passage. A few students were waiting outside; their conversation stopped when they saw him. One moved aside so abruptly that his shoulder struck the wall.

Silas wanted to tell him to relax. He also rather enjoyed having a clear path. He continued past without saying anything.

Talia carried the box while he kept the contract tucked inside his jacket. The afternoon had turned cool, and his face hurt less in the open air. At the courtyard steps, he stopped to rest. Talia waited beside the railing without looking at him.

"You didn’t know what was in it," he said.

"No."

"You still brought it."

"You asked for something from your room. The officer allowed it." Talia adjusted her hold on the box. "I was more surprised when you took it out."

Silas nodded. He had meant to say something else, and the longer he left it, the more awkward it seemed.

"Thank you," he said. "For what you said in there, too."

Talia looked at him briefly.

"You’re welcome."

He was relieved she left it at that.

At his door, Silas had to try the key twice. His hands had begun to shake now that nobody was watching closely enough for him to care. Talia set the box on the desk after he let her in.

The studio was much as he had left it. His chair stood at an angle beside the rug. The glass of water remained on the kitchenette counter, and his novel lay where he had put it down.

Silas straightened the chair by hand.

"The infirmary instructions still apply," Talia said. "Soft food. And let them check that tooth again if it keeps hurting."

"I will."

She lingered long enough to make sure he sat down, then left.

Silas locked the door. He put the contract in the desk drawer and ordered soup through the terminal. The payment would come within seven days; until then, he still had to look at the cheaper meals.

While he waited, he picked up his book. He found the paragraph he had abandoned and read it twice, unable to remember who was speaking.

"Tomorrow," he muttered.

He left the bookmark in, took off his shoes, and lay down on the bed. When the delivery compartment sounded a little later, he considered getting up.

The soup could cool for a few minutes.