Chapter 17
FLORENCE
Neville was following me, trotting at my heels since I got back. Since I landed, I should say.
I shivered, half in fear, half in delight. I’d landed on the back of a dragon. Neville had been sitting on the wide expanse of grass down near the greenhouse waiting for me, with a look on his face that one could only describe as smug.
“Wipe that look off your face,” I hissed down to him now.
“You’ve been wearing it long enough. It’s absolutely ridiculous.
” The fluffin made a happy mewing sound.
With a sigh, I bent over, letting my heavy bag slide down onto the ground.
Then I scooped the little furball up into my arms and rubbed his head gently.
“I suppose you think you’re coming inside. ”
He made a soft barking noise.
“Fine,” I said with resignation. “But you’d better be quiet.” I shifted my grip on the fluffin and nudged the heavy door to the Avari Tower open with my boot.
It was strange to be returning like this.
It felt like I’d been away much longer than I really had.
The common room was dimly lit, cozy, and quiet.
I inhaled. Someone had been burning sage.
I stepped in, only realizing then that it was too quiet.
Then I heard it—weeping. A girl was curled up on a sofa near the fire, sobbing into her hands.
A small cluster of students surrounded her.
One rubbed her back. All of them were blightborns.
Across the room, a group of highblood students stood together, talking in low voices. I recognized one of them—Evie, one of the House Avari wardens.
I walked over slowly. “What happened?”
Evie glanced at me. “Shen. Nice of you to join us. You’re back, then?”
I nodded awkwardly. “Yes. What’s going on?”
“Lysa’s mother died.”
“That’s so sad,” I murmured. It was rather kind of the highblood students to stand to one side so respectfully.
But Evie wasn’t finished. “She was murdered.”
My stomach dropped. “Murdered? How? In Veilmar?”
Evie shook her head. “No, back in her home village. Somewhere on the eastern coast.” She gave me an assessing look as if debating whether to say more. “A highblood did it.”
My eyes widened. “That’s awful.” I looked over at the crying girl. Her life would never be the same. I understood: I’d lost my father at a much younger age.
Blightborn murders … There was a time when such a thing wouldn’t have been so shocking.
Highbloods used to hunt with abandon, and it was accepted.
They were superior to us, after all; they deserved everything—apparently, even our lives.
But there was no reason for it. Not when they had thrallweave.
Not when they could simply take what they wanted without killing. It made no sense.
“The highblood was killed,” Evie said. “If that’s what you’re wondering.”
I blinked. “They were?”
She nodded. “He went after three other people in the village, including another highblood, before he was stopped. A group of highbloods took him down.”
I felt oddly relieved. “If he went after his own kind, then it must have been madness. A fluke. A terrible accident.”
Evie shrugged. “Maybe.”
“What do you mean?”
She turned, as if to go. “I mean this isn’t the first story I’ve heard like this.”
I stared. “More murders?”
“Highbloods murdering blightborn—and other highbloods—for no real reason. Highbloods who had gone … berserk.” She’d lowered her voice, but the other highbloods around us were listening in.
They didn’t seem shocked, however. Clearly they’d heard this rumor before.
“I’ll see you around, Shen. I’m going to talk to Kage. ”
I watched her go, remembering that she was Kage’s Second now, then gave Neville a little boost in my arms.
A highblood boy approached me, Andrew, a Second Year. He was in one of my classes. “That fluffin.” He looked at Neville curiously. “He’s yours?”
“Sort of,” I said cautiously. “He’s not really anyone’s.”
“My sister’s always wanted one as a pet.
They’re hard to find these days. I wonder if I could take him home.
If he’s just roaming around the school, I mean.
” Andrew leaned forward, reaching out a hand to pat Neville’s head.
Before he could finish the gesture, Neville growled. The boy quickly yanked his hand back.
“I’m not sure Neville likes that idea. And now that I think about it, he does have an owner,” I lied. “Blake Drakharrow.”
“Blake?” Andrew took a step back. “I didn’t know that. He lets you what—borrow him?”
“Something like that,” I called over my shoulder, already marching towards the staircase. “Good night, Andrew.”To Neville, I whispered, “Don’t worry, no one is going to take you home with them.”
Neville gave another little growl, as if to say I’d like to see them try.
“Besides, you don’t really belong to Blake or to me, do you?” I murmured.
He is his own person. Not a pet.
Neville made a highpitched yipping sound as I jumped.
You need to stop doing that, I complained. It’s called eavesdropping.
A pause. Very well. Good luck.
I frowned, realizing Nyxaris knew exactly what I was about to do. Thank you, I said reluctantly.
You rode well today. And then he was gone.
I sighed and raised my hand, knocking on the door gently. Then I waited. Wondering if she’d open it. Wondering what I’d see in her eyes when she did.
The door flew open. Medra stood there, her red hair loose around her shoulder and extremely fluffy, as if she’d just been brushing it.
I glanced down, and sure enough, there was a silver brush in her hand.
“Florence!” And then her arms were wrapped around me, she was pulling me inside, and we were both talking at the same time.
“Nyxaris! I couldn’t believe he—”
“I know! And when he—”
“Did you see the look on her face before he—?”
“I’ll never forget it.”
We burst out laughing, beaming at each other.
“I suppose it’s terribly heartless to be laughing at the death of a teacher,” I whispered, putting a hand to my mouth. Part of me still hadn’t taken it in. That Nyxaris had actually killed someone. For me.
“Are you kidding? I don’t think Hassan deserves any of your civility or sympathy after leading you straight into the jaws of that snake Viktor.” Medra scoffed. “If anyone was heartless, Florence, it was her. Besides, I thought we were talking about Regan!”
I stared at her for a moment. Then we erupted in laughter again. Finally, the sides of our faces sore from smiling, we calmed down. Medra grabbed my bag from where I’d dropped it, hauling it across the room with a grunt of effort.
“I see you packed light,” she joked.
I blushed. “I brought back … well, everything.”
She looked at me, her eyes soft. “So you’re back for good, then?”
I nodded, then knelt down so Neville could jump out of my arms. He padded straight over to a bowl of water Medra had left on the floor for him. Apparently she’d still been receiving fluffin visits.
“I mean, it’s all right if you aren’t,” she said quickly. “You can stay one night, see how you feel. I know being around highbloods all day is a lot. If being closer to your mother is more reassuring, I’ll understand. I—”
“Medra,” I interrupted. “I’m back. If you’ll have me back.”
She bit her lip, then nodded eagerly. “Of course. I’ve missed you so much. This place isn’t the same without you.”
I glanced around the room, looking to see if she’d made any changes. Everything seemed much the same. Except … “Is that Blake’s shirt?” A white button-up hung over the back of an armchair.
“Um, no. I mean …” Medra blushed. “I guess he left it here, and I haven’t given it back yet.”
“Oh, Bloodmaiden,” I whispered in delight. “Don’t tell me you smell it at night when he’s not around.”
“Florence!” she shrieked. “How dare you. Also, how did you know that?”
I shrugged. “I’ve read a lot of romance books, remember? Typical girl-in-love behavior … Oh, I’m sorry, Medra. I didn’t mean …”
She’d frozen, her eyes wide. Like a moth caught in a flame. “It’s … all right.”
“I didn’t mean to cross a line.” How could I have said something so stupid? My face was red. “Maybe I should go.”
“Don’t be absurd!” She looped her arm through mine, then leaned down to kiss Neville on the head.
“You’re my best friend. If anyone is allowed to tease me, it’s you.
I’m just being silly. It’s just … That word.
It’s such a heavy one, you know? And we …
Blake’s never … I’ve never.” She stopped.
“I mean, I don’t know what I feel for him.
” She looked at me, helplessly. “I guess I don’t hate him anymore, though. ”
I giggled. “I mean, you wear his shirt, so I guess not.”
She sniffed. “Speaking of scents, you smell like a dragon. How was your first ride?”
“I do not,” I said, horrified, lowering my nose to smell my sweater. “Do I?”
“It’s not a bad smell,” she assured me. “Smoke and scales. A little like the sea. I’ve never figured out exactly what Nyxaris eats. A lot of fish, maybe a few sheep?”
“He steals sheep?” I said, horrified.
Medra snickered. “Well, I doubt he pays for them first. Can you imagine?”
We fell onto her bed side by side, howling at the image of Nyxaris offering a purse full of coins to a terrified-looking farmer.
“I suppose not.” I hiccupped. “He’s r-rather … intimidating, Medra.”
She sobered. “He is, isn’t he? I was afraid he’d kill me more than once.” She saw the look on my face and quickly added, “But he won’t hurt you, Florence. I’m sure of it.”
I sat up, drawing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.
Neville was sitting on one of the desks by the window, licking himself like a cat, his ears perked up as if he was listening to every word we said.
For a moment, I sat waiting, then realized Nyxaris had taken my complaint seriously—he wouldn’t be confirming or denying what Medra had just said.