Chapter 14 #2
Slowly, the mob of students began to move.
I turned to go with them, hitching my bag of books over my shoulder.
I’d been planning to do some extra work in the greenhouse.
I’d had my essay for Professor Allenvale on my mind all morning, and I wanted it to be perfect.
Suddenly I wondered how Nyxaris had even known I was headed there.
I hadn’t spoken to him in days—not consciously.
Just how much of me and my life could he see?
Could we not shut each other out completely, even if we wanted to?
Based on the impressions I constantly received of him, the answer seemed to be a clear no.
Before I could take another step, a hand grasped my arm, nails digging in, pulling me to a halt.
“Oh, no, no. Not you, Miss Shen.” Hassan’s expression bordered on gleeful. “You’re not going anywhere. You and Miss Pendragon will both be coming with me.”
I looked over at Medra helplessly.
“See to Dani,” Medra quickly said to Blake. He nodded and turned to the dwarven girl still huddled by the wall. She looked confused and dazed. But as Blake approached, she didn’t shrink away.
Medra came up beside me, and we followed Hassan down the hall.
Though I tried not to look back, I couldn’t help it.
Lochlan’s body still lay there, but Isha had vanished.
Blake was crouching beside Dani. His face was calm as he helped her to her feet.
The transformation between what he’d done just a few minutes ago and what he was now doing seemed incredible.
I touched a hand to my collar, feeling for the silver pendant that dangled around my neck—a small silver fluffin sitting on a stack of books.
Blake had given it to me, just a few weeks ago.
Before … well, before everything had changed.
For the first time, I wondered if things had changed for everyone. Not just for me alone. I’d been so wrapped up in myself, in my own cares and worries. I’d been selfish. I glanced at Medra guiltily, but her eyes were fixed on Hassan’s back.
“Where are you taking us?” my friend demanded after we’d turned a corner.
The professor didn’t bother to reply. But our destination was clear within a few minutes: the headmistress’s office.
Belatedly I realized Professor Hassan must have been in the hallway observing things for quite some time. She’d watched Lochlan choking Medra, but she hadn’t intervened. She’d seen Blake appear, and still she’d done nothing.
She’d heard me speak about Nyxaris, I realized with a chill. She knew. And in a few minutes, Regan would know, too. And if Regan knew, Viktor would soon know.
I stopped as a wave of dizziness washed over me. Medra’s hand touched my elbow encouragingly.
“Keep moving,” Hassan barked, turning to glare at me.
We arrived all too soon. Hassan didn’t bother to knock.
Lifting her cane, she shoved open the door of the antechamber.
Inside, a tall young highblood man lounged at the secretary’s desk with his feet up, a telltale blood-and-sword badge visible on his uniform.
The whole school knew about this group of alumni who’d been called in to form Regan’s new socalled Bloodguard.
He looked up in surprise as Hassan marched in.
Apparently, Hassan’s reign of terror stretched back to this highblood’s time, because he gulped nervously and immediately took his feet off the desk.
“Professor Hassan! I know the headmistress would be happy to see you, but she’s already in a meeting … ”
It was pointless. Hassan didn’t even pause.
Under any other circumstances, I might have admired the woman’s nerve—and her skills with that cane.
She knocked open the set of doors leading into the headmistress’s office, the heavy wood banging against the walls.
The Bloodguard boy rose from behind his desk, wringing his hands.
But it was too late; Hassan had already swept inside.
Medra and I glanced at one another. There was no choice but to follow.
I’d never actually been to the headmistress’s office before, even back when we had a headmaster.
I’d never been one to get into trouble. I wasn’t a rule-breaker.
I was a model student. I kept my head down.
Got good grades. Was well-liked by all my teachers.
I shouldn’t have been there. The thought appeared once and then, like a tainted piece of coin, wouldn’t go away.
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be here. This wasn’t my life. This wasn’t who I was. The sharp chill of cowardice was on me again.
I thought suddenly of my mother—safe in the library, with no idea any of this was going on. With no idea her daughter was about to be marked as a troublemaker, a rebel, a dissident.
I’d already put her in danger once when I’d been targeted for being friends with Medra.
Dragons. It all led back to dragons, I thought in panic.
My heart pounded like a drum, and my palms were sweaty. My life had been saved in a deal with a dragon, but was anything worth this?
Sunlight streamed in through a huge arched window along the left side of the room.
In the center, Regan sat behind an ornate wood desk.
Each of the desk legs depicted a naked blightborn woman, their faces rapturous.
Thralls. I felt sick at such a clear reminder of what the highbloods really thought of us.
Of what even Headmaster Kim—a man I’d retained a modicum of respect for—had really thought of us.
We were just objects to them, each one of us a potential thrall.
And then I stopped thinking about the desk as my blood turned to ice.
Because Viktor Drakharrow stood to one side of it, leaning over Regan.
They’d obviously been arguing, I could tell from the tight set of Regan’s shoulders, the flush of red in her cheeks, the way her lips were pressed tightly together.
Now, as we entered behind Hassan, both of them looked up.
If Hassan was put off by the fact that she’d now be speaking not just to Regan but to the most powerful highblood in Sangratha, she gave no indication of it.
In fact, as I glanced at her, I realized she looked even more pleased.
She jabbed her cane in my general direction without looking at me, then stepped forward boldly, her eyes locking onto Regan’s.
“I’ve discovered something you’ll wish to hear about, Headmistress.
” Something meaningful passed between them, swift and wordless.
“I can see that,” Regan said coolly. “But you’ve interrupted a private meeting.”
“I assure you, Headmistress, my lord Drakharrow, you will want to hear what I have to say.” Hassan’s eyes moved to Viktor, as if assessing her chances of getting what she desired.
Viktor straightened, lifting black-gloved hands from Regan’s desk.
He wore a heavy, long red velvet cape—a mantle fit for a king.
But he wasn’t our king, he was a regent, one of four.
Not that you’d ever know it by the way he acted.
As Viktor’s red eyes landed on me, I wished the floor would open and swallow me whole.
Would it really have been too much to ask?
I could feel myself backing up, cowering, just like the girl Medra had been trying to protect.
What was her name? Dani. I’d seen her before in one of my classes, I suddenly realized.
Dani Parks. Her older brother went to Bloodwing, too; he was studying to be a scout.
I wondered if he’d been in the crowd back there.
“We’ll hear what Professor Hassan has to say, of course,” Viktor said smoothly, his eyes sliding over to Medra.
“After all, if the dragon rider is involved, it must be important.” He came around the desk, and I held my breath.
But instead of approaching me, to my shame and relief, he went straight to Medra.
“Could this have anything to do with why our rider has failed to meet her assigned targets with you this month, Professor? Nyxaris has been sighted more than once over Bloodwing and the surrounding lands. And yet I don’t believe our rider has been seen once upon his back.”
Medra stared back at Viktor with a coolness I found admirable, not backing away or backing down. She said nothing.
Hassan inclined her head respectfully. “My Lord Drakharrow, this pertains directly to the dragon—and thus directly to the matter we’ve previously discussed.” She paused significantly, eyes shifting back to Regan. “Perhaps what I’ve brought you today could influence … other matters.”
Regan stiffened slightly. Viktor smiled faintly. “Yes, Professor. I remember our arrangement clearly. You have my full attention. Do continue.”
Hassan idolized him, I realized. Where I saw a monster, she saw something else entirely. In Viktor Drakharrow, she saw something truly divine: the Bloodmaiden’s image herself. But something else was clearly at play, though I wasn’t sure what.
“Go on, then,” Regan said coldly from behind the desk. “Say your piece, and get on with it. I have a school to run.”
“Nyxaris, the dragon.” Hassan paused, clearly savoring the moment.
“Yes, we all know the beast’s name. What of it?” Viktor demanded impatiently.
Hassan looked over at me and smiled gleefully. “You know a great deal, Lord Drakharrow. And yet, did either of you know this?”
I held my breath, waiting for the axe to fall.
“The dragon is not bonded to Medra Pendragon after all,” Hassan announced.
“That’s a lie,” Medra declared, moving forward before I could even think. “Nyxaris is mine. Everyone knows this.”
Hassan’s eyebrows arched. “Is it? I was there. In the hall just now. I heard everything.”
“I don’t know what you think you heard,” Medra countered. “But Florence never said that. Not once.”
Viktor was frowning.
“She said the dragon was hers,” Hassan argued.“I heard her clearly.”