Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Briony
As we swing back toward the central part of the academy, toward the library and our safe room, we hear noise in the distance – shouting, screaming, and hollering. I look at Fox in alarm.
“The others!” I say, and before he can stop me, I’m running in the direction of the noise.
It takes me a while to catch my bearings and understand where all the chaos is coming from, and then I’m hurrying along the paths in the direction of the canteen.
I sense Fox behind me, even if his footsteps are silent, and I can feel his shadows swirling around my body, attempting to keep me hidden.
Outside the canteen, we find a large crowd of students gathered.
I can tell almost immediately that something is wrong.
There’s agitation and tension bustling through the students and several people are crying, holding on to each other, clearly upset.
They’re all staring in one direction, but I’m too small and can’t see what it is they’re gaping at.
I slip between them, pushing my way forward.
Everyone’s so engrossed in what’s happening in front of them, no one seems to notice me. Or is that just Fox’s magic?
And then I stop.
Someone has erected a makeshift stage right outside the canteen. There are soldiers standing guard along its length, staring out toward the crowd. And up on the stage, there’s Sterling. Sterling and Fly, Fly pincered between two hulking soldiers.
A scream comes rushing up into my throat before I even realize it’s begun, but I feel a heavy hand slap across my mouth – just like it had in the wardrobe – muffling that noise and pressing me against him.
I wriggle as he holds me tight, because whatever’s happening up there on the stage, it isn’t good.
Sterling isn’t about to award Fly a certificate for Best Academy Student of the year.
Fly isn’t about to perform poetry to the gathered crowd.
No, something awful is about to happen.
And this feeling is only confirmed when I spot Clare on the edge of the stage, struggling in a soldier’s grip, tears cascading down her face.
What the hell is going on?
Sterling stands right in the center of the stage, his dark cloak billowing in the evening breeze, his hands crossed behind his back, a look of irritation painted firmly on his wily features.
“It is my strong belief,” he tells the crowd, “that the traitors to the realm are at this very moment hiding, concealed in this academy.” He pauses, clearly expecting a shocked gasp from the crowd.
When it fails to materialize, he sniffs and continues.
“Although our soldiers have conducted a thorough search of the academy and surrounding grounds, we have yet to find the traitors. And that is because we believe they are being helped.” He spins on his toes and glares at Fly.
“Such treachery to the realm will not be tolerated,” he sneers.
“If you choose to give traitors help – if you choose to harbor them – then you are a traitor yourself.”
He spins back to sweep his cold gaze across the agitated crowd.
“This man is a known associate of the traitor ring leader, Briony Storm. Which makes him a traitor himself. And I’m sure, children, you don’t need me to explain to you what happens to traitors in this realm.”
This time there’s a gasp from the crowd, and Clare whimpers.
“I am certain he knows where she is at this very moment,” Sterling continues, “and to show you just how serious I consider this crime, I intend to make an example of him. Bring him forward,” he snaps to the soldiers.
It’s then I realize they’ve tied Fly’s hands behind his back and shackled his feet. They drag him forward, and my best friend – usually so full of energy and humor and love – looks rigid with terror, his eyes wide with fear. I feel my knees buckle beneath me, and only Fox’s arms keep me standing.
The new headmaster glares at the crowd for one long, uncomfortable second, and then he snaps around to face Fly, his cloak snapping around with him.
“This is your final chance. Fly Arison, tell me where the traitors are and I may choose to reduce your punishment. Otherwise…”
His lips pull into a cold, warped mockery of amusement.
“I—I—I…” my friend stutters. “I don’t know.”
His knees are practically knocking together in terror. But even though he must be terrified, he’s not prepared to betray me. He would rather die than give me away – my wonderful, amazing, one-of-a-kind best friend.
“But they are here, at the academy,” Sterling says. Fly simply stares back at him, silent. “Fine,” Sterling snaps angrily.
He swirls his arm through the air and his shadows, black and dull, swim from his fingertips to the back of the stage. They loop around one of the boughs of the trees that stand behind him, and then they fall down, forming a noose.
The crowd gasps again. Several people cry out “No!” Someone dares to say, “You can’t do this!”
The new headmaster examines his work and then turns around slowly.
“I have the Empress’s permission to do all and everything in my power to protect this realm and keep it safe. That includes removing any danger and any traitors.” He narrows his eyes. “Are there any more among you?”
The crowd falls silent, so silent you can hear the wind knocking the skeletal limbs of the trees together.
He nods, and the two soldiers begin marching Fly toward the tree and the noose.
And I can’t stand it. There is no way this is happening. No way in hell.
I let my magic fly through my body, sharp against Fox’s hold on me. It zaps against his skin, and momentarily he releases me. I’m quick, slipping through his grasp before he can grab me again. I let my magic shine through his shadows and step forward.
“I am here!” I call out to Sterling, who’s already turned away from the crowd to watch the soldiers loop the noose around Fly’s neck. “I am a traitor. I am Briony Storm!” I yell at the top of my lungs.
Then I send my magic storming through the air, slicing through Sterling’s shadow magic and releasing the noose from my friend’s neck.
Sterling whirls around and shoots his shadow magic directly at me; the crowd behind me scream and scatter to avoid his onslaught. I could duck and let the magic sail right over my head, but it could hit the people behind me. So instead, I meet it with magic of my own.
As soon as our magics collide, I can feel he’s a powerful shadow weaver – powerful but nothing like Bardin. Although there’s something disciplined, ordered, and frankly disturbing about his magic.
I scream with the anger I feel deep in my belly.
How dare he threaten my friend. How dare he touch him.
I push at his magic and send him flying onto his backside, skidding across the stage.
At the same time, the gathered soldiers – all shadow weavers themselves – begin shooting their magic toward me. For a moment, I realize just how stupid and outnumbered I actually am.
And then the Professor is there too, shooting his own magic at them.
And maybe this would be easy. The shadow weavers aren’t demons. They’re not Madame Bardin. We’re not out in the demon wastelands, we’re here at the academy, deep within the realm.
But there’s one massively big problem.
The soldiers have a hold of Clare. And Sterling has scrambled back up onto his feet and has his shadow magic hovering at Fly’s throat.
“Stop shooting,” he yells at me, “or I’ll snap his neck.”
With a frustrated grunt I let my light magic fall to the ground and flicker back to my hands. Fox reluctantly follows my lead and does the same.
“Thank you,” Sterling says. “That’s much better.”
The smile on his face now is more evil and smug. As soon as I get the opportunity, I’m going to smack him right in the center of his ugly face – if I get the opportunity. My chances aren’t looking great at this very moment.
“I knew you were here somewhere, Miss Storm, lurking about like a bad smell. What I wasn’t expecting was to find Professor Tudor in your company. The Empress will be pleased that I have found yet another traitor.”
His gaze darts around the darkened academy. Those who were here watching only moments ago have all fled. It’s just me, Fox, Fly, Clare, Sterling, and several dozen soldiers.
“I assume that Beaufort Lincoln and his bond brothers are here somewhere too.” The idea seems to delight him. “Tell me where they are and I’ll let your friend live.”
“You said if I handed myself in – if I stopped shooting – he would live.”
Sterling shrugs slightly. “I changed my mind. Are they here, Miss Storm?”
“We’re here,” a voice booms from the darkness.
And then a white wolf leaps out of nowhere, knocking Sterling off his feet and landing on his chest. In a moment the wolf has ripped the man’s throat clean away, blood dripping from the wolf’s jaws and staining its white fur crimson.