Free Dark Light of Day by Jill Archer

Maegesters stepped in. But Barristers didn’t have to worry about that. Their job was mostly preventing the Hyrkes from abusing their client privileges and reporting any activity that could lead to demon fighting.
    Training to become a Barrister was rigorous work. I wouldn’t say I was happy, but I’d settled into a rhythm.
    Arrhythmia struck a week before Bryde’s Day.
    We were between afternoon classes and I was in Rickard Building on my way to my locker to change out my books. We’d just endured a particularly painful session with Meginnis in Evil Deeds. My mind was positively reeling from all the archaic rules on defamation, false light, and alienation of affection. Personally, I thought it all boiled down to “don’t mess with another man’s demon” but I knew sweeping summaries would never do. Scrupulous rule following was
praeceptum primum, praeceptum solum
.
The first rule, the only rule.
    Ivy and Fitz wandered down to the coffee kiosk in search of caffeine and sugar. I dropped my stack of books in front of my locker. Around me, students were also dropping books, slamming the metal doors of their lockers, and trying to talk over each other. I was bumped from behind by elbows, shoulders, and, occasionally, a backpack. The hallways of Rickard were filled with the blood of students coursing from one class to another. I grabbed the silver catch on the front of my locker and pulled it up and out. My locker door swung open. There, sitting in the middle at the very edge of the top shelf, was a small unadorned evergreen tree.
    A real one.
    It was only about four inches tall and no more than three inches at its base, but this tiny tree meant the end for me. I stared at it, numb from too many emotions, felt all at once. Who had left it in my locker? And why? In and of itself, the thing was fairly innocuous. Hyrkes sometimes gave them as gifts this time of year. But that tradition was frowned upon here at St. Luck’s in deference to the Maegesters. Still, it hadn’t been strictly forbidden either. Hyrkes brought plantsto St. Luck’s at their peril—and apparently, mine. Did I have a secret Hyrke admirer? One who was oblivious to what this “gift” might mean to me? But figuring out who put it there and why was irrelevant. My immediate problem was how to get rid of it without giving myself away. I knew full well Peter’s cloaking spell wouldn’t help. There wasn’t a spell in Halja that would allow someone with waning magic to actually touch a live plant without killing it. I’d have to come back later and get rid of it when there were fewer people.
    I was just about to close my locker when a thick, pasty white arm stretched across my face and reached up for it. Short, stumpy fingers closed gently around the tree, killing it instantly. I turned.
    Standing beside me was a barrel-chested man with a longish blond beard that was just a shade lighter than dirty dishwater. He gave me a twisted smile and chucked the dead plant into a nearby trash can. He waved a slightly plump hand in the air in a fluttering, dismissive gesture.
    “Plants have no place at St. Lucifer’s.” His voice was so deep, I thought I might be in danger of falling into it.
    “Who are you?” I asked, involuntarily taking a step back. Recoiling from him just seemed like the natural thing to do. His expression was simply
not friendly
.
    “Sasha de Rocca,” he said, keeping his hands clasped behind his back. “I’m a Maegester-in-Training in section two.” He stared at me, as if daring me to say something. But I was speechless.
    “I’m also a distant cousin of yours,” he said blandly, “Our grandfathers were brothers.”
    Oh, right. I remembered who he was. His mother was Livia, my mother’s first cousin, but they’d never been close—even before Night and I were born. Sasha was one of seven. Most of his siblings had magic. He had two older brothers who were already Maegesters and one sister who was a Mederi. His two younger sisters