Chapter 26
MEDRA
I woke from a dream of wings and blood. Cold air prickled my bare shoulders. For a moment, I lay there, tangled in blankets, blinking at the starlight that slanted through the tower window. Then the wind gusted again, carrying the scent of spring rain and blowing straight in through the casement.
I sat up, shivering. The glass in the window was gone.
The curtains billowed in the wind. I looked around the room.
Shelves had been toppled, the wood cracked and smashed, books splayed open in heaps all over the ground.
A lamp lay broken on the floor. The mirror across from the bed was cracked, and the table in front of it had been knocked over.
Pieces of glass were spread beneath the open window where the pane had shattered.
What the hell had happened here, and how had I slept through it?
My memories slipped and slid. Flashes hovered behind my eyes.
Red eyes. The scrape of scales. I shivered.
It must have been a nightmare, a dream of Molindra in the Bonewood.
I pushed the sense of foreboding away. Sliding out of the bed, I hunted for my gown.
I found it beneath the overturned writing desk.
As I started to wriggle back into it, a voice interrupted.
Medra, can you hear me?
I touched a hand to my temples. I’d slept like the dead and only for an hour, yet I felt surprisingly good. Strong. Energized. Yes, I’m here.
If you’re sleeping, you need to get up. Get prepared. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, get ready.
Get ready for what? What’s going on?
I don’t know. Orcades was usually composed. Never desperate. Yet now she sounded almost panicked.
You don’t know?
All I can see is a wave of red. An unstoppable wave. And it’s headed your way.
I glanced out the window. The sea was calm. I don’t see any waves, Mother.
Not a literal tsunami, child, she said, sounding annoyed. Goodness, I speak in symbols.
Now it was my turn to take a breath. All right, so the wave is a symbol. A symbol of what?
A symbol for danger. Are you armed? Are you with Florence?
I frowned. No, I’m not. I was with Blake, but … I walked over to the bathroom … he’s disappeared.
Very inconvenient timing, I must say, my mother snapped.
I smiled. I’ll be sure to tell him you said so.
Medra, you’re not taking me seriously enough. She didn’t sound angry. Just desperate. Whatever was happening, it was enough to scare my mother. My mother who hadn’t even been afraid of Molindra. I need you to listen. Find your friends. Warn them. Arm yourself. Do you understand me?
I understand. I’m listening. I’ll find Blake, and we’ll take a look around, gather the others. Try not to worry.
I’m your mother. It’s my right to worry, she said, sounding more like her imperious self for a moment. Find Florence. She shouldn’t be alone.
Agreed. I’ll find her as soon as I’ve figured out where Blake’s gone.
Good. Please, darling, try to be safe. May everything good watch over you.
Then she was gone. I stood there for a moment, a little surprised to hear that my mother believed in any kind of force of goodness.
I looked down at myself. If something bad was about to happen, did I really want to be wearing a ball gown?
I crossed over to Blake’s dresser, miraculously still standing, and began yanking drawers open.
Finally, I found what I was looking for: a pair of leggings I’d once left behind.
They were neatly folded and freshly laundered.
I yanked off the gown and pulled them on, then found one of Blake’s sweaters—one that wasn’t quite as huge on me as the others.
Rolling up the sleeves, I looked in the broken mirror, frowning at my reflection.
Not exactly armor, but at least I’d be able to move my legs.
I had no choice but to put on the slippers I’d worn to the ball, as all of Blake’s footwear was far too big.
I rifled through his armoire next and found two sheathed daggers at the bottom, beneath a mess of crumpled parchment and graded papers. Grabbing belts, I strapped them to my thighs, then moved towards the door.
The door clicked. Instantly I was halfcrouched, a dagger in each hand. Blake stepped inside and shut the door quietly behind him, clearly thinking I was still asleep.
He turned towards where I crouched, and his eyes widened. “Holy shit, Pendragon. Ambushing me, are we?” He smirked. “I mean, sure, if you want to play, I’m up for a little roleplay.” But the smirk didn’t reach his eyes. He looked tired. Wornout. Different.
“Where were you?”
He shrugged. “Just down in the common room. Look, I’m wiped. Mind if we talk about this later? I need to sleep.”
“Later? I thought you were full of energy and ready to play,” I said in disbelief. “I mean, you clearly played with this room. Or someone did. What the hell happened to it?”
He didn’t answer.
I stood up and stepped towards him. Moonlight from the open window behind me spilled over his face. “Blake, what happened to your eyes?” His pupils were gray, but the irises? Where the moonlight hit them, I could see they were tinted a dark crimson.
He frowned at my expression, then crossed over to the broken mirror, peering at his reflection. “Nothing,” he said finally, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m just tired. They’re bloodshot.”
“Bloodshot?” I shook my head. “Tell me the truth. What’s going on? Where were you really?”
He turned towards me. I saw his throat tighten.“Pendragon, I—”
The door banged inward. Visha stormed in, still in the short scarlet dress she’d worn earlier that evening. Her violet eyes were wild. There was a knife clutched in her hand. Theo stumbled in behind her. I gasped: Blake’s cousin’s shirt was soaked with blood.
“It’s not mine,” he said hastily, raising his hands.“I’m fine, really.”
“Something fuckedup is going on,” Visha declared. “And I mean very fucked-up.”
“What happened?” Blake crossed over to stand between me and the door protectively.
Visha slammed the door shut. “Theo, Vaughn, and I stayed late at the engagement party. Or whatever we’re calling it now.
The breakup ball?” She shrugged. She was playing it cool, but I could see her shoulders trembling.
She kept clenching and unclenching her hand around the dagger.
“We dropped Vaughn off at House Orphos. Got back to the tower. Were coming through the common room, and the little bastard came at Theo like an animal.”
“Little bastard?” Blake interrupted.
“Everett Cavendish,” Theo said quietly. “He was a First Year. A highblood.”
Blake glanced back at me. Was. Theo had said was.
Blake looked at Visha. “You killed him?”
“Yes, I killed him,” she snapped. “He was about to sink his teeth into Theo’s neck, and not in a sweet, romantic way.”
“She had to,” Theo said hurriedly. “Blake, you should have seen him. He was like an animal. Bursting out at us with no warning, fangs bared, eyes white. His skin … Blake, he wasn’t … normal. Something’s wrong.”
“Oh, something is most definitely wrong,” Visha agreed. “And I know exactly what it is.”
Blake and I stared at her. “You do?” I said.
She nodded grimly. “The plague.”
I caught Blake and Theo looking at one another. “Plague? What plague?”
“A highblood plague.”
“Highbloods can get sick?” It was news to me.
“No, we can’t,” Visha said. “That’s why this is really fucked-up.
There have been reports and rumors spreading from the outskirts of Sangratha.
Just a few here and there. I thought it was all bullshit at first. Just rumors.
But then,” she said and cleared her throat, “my nephew caught it. He attacked his own family.”
“It’s true,” Blake murmured. He looked at Visha. “Have you heard anything from them tonight?”
She shook her head. “Not another word.” Her face hardened. “And I don’t expect to.”
“But that’s your family’s estate. It’s not just your uncle and his family. Your mother and father and …” Theo stopped himself, seeing Visha’s face.
“Maybe they’re fine. Maybe I’ll get another letter. But I won’t fucking hold my breath.”
“This was just one student. You took him out,” Blake observed.
“Blake, she’s right. It has to be a plague,” Theo said. “There’ll be more.”
“You need to arm yourselves, and I need to get to Florence,” I said suddenly. “She’s all alone back in House Avari.”
“I need to get back to Vaughn,” Theo said. “There’s no way I’m leaving him in House Orphos by himself while this is going on.”
“No one is leaving this tower,” Blake declared, looking at us.
“Not yet. Our responsibility lies here, first and foremost.We’ll get the wardens, seal off the tower, count heads, post guards, and have all of the other students stay in their rooms.They can barricade their doors if necessary.Then we’ll discuss the next move. ”
Theo looked reluctant but nodded his head slowly.
“I’ll give you half an hour. Then I go find Florence,” I said stubbornly.
Thud. Something slammed against the door.
“What the fuck was that?” Theo whispered, already backing away from the entrance.
“You two get back,” Blake ordered Theo and me.
“Visha, to me.” He moved towards the door as Visha flattened herself against the wall to one side, her dagger up in a reverse grip, ready to plunge downwards.
Meanwhile, Theo looked around for something to arm himself with.
He dragged a chair over, smashing a leg off with impressive strength, and lifted the sharp, jagged piece of wood like a club.
He looked over at me and nodded, his knuckles white.
And me? I had my daggers strapped to my thighs.
I was ready. But for what exactly, I had no fucking clue.
Blake yanked the door open and sprang aside.
A girl in scarlettrimmed pajamas toppled through the gap.
She hit the floor sideways, one arm stretched out in front of her.
Blood was pumping from a huge wound in her throat.
I recognized her: Marta, a Fourth Year warden.
Her glazed eyes found Blake. “T–tried to … You …” Her lips had barely formed the words when her entire body went slack.
“Fuck,” Theo whispered.
“Quiet,” Blake hissed.
Two shapes loomed out of the corridor. Highbloods.
Males. I’d seen them around the common room.
They were Second Years. I gasped as they stepped into the light.
Their skin was gray, laced with branching, blackened veins.
Murky white filmed their eyes. Dried gore crusted their mouths—Marta’s blood.
One of them lifted his head and sniffed, nostrils flaring.
He looked down at Marta, and a hungry growl echoed from his chest.
“Let’s do this,” Blake barked as the boy closest to him began to lunge. “Vish, on me. Pendragon, stay back.”
It was sweet that he wanted to keep me out of it, but that wasn’t happening.
Still, I did as he said for the moment because Visha was already on top of it.
She slid in low, slashing up beneath the boy’s ribs.
Blackened blood splattered with a wet, sickening sound, filling the room with a horrific smell that left me gagging.
Blake reached for the second attacker. His hand clamped around the boy’s throat, muscles cording along his forearm.With a roar, he threw the boy across the corridor where his body smashed against the wall.
The first boy was still coming, I realized.
Visha’s attack had slowed him down but not stopped him.
Not that he was moving with typical highblood speed, exactly.
In fact, one might have even called him slow—at least, slow for a highblood.
He rushed for Theo, and I sprang forward, daggers already drawn, as the boy swiped.
Ducking beneath his arm, I jammed one blade up into his skull, then wrenched it sideways, listening to the sound of cartilage snapping.
The boy spasmed, then dropped to the floor.
“That seemed to do the trick,” I said quietly.
Theo nodded tightly. Moving past me he went into the hall where the boy Blake had thrown against the wall was already starting to rise. Wood and bone crunched as Theo swung his chair leg down on the boy’s head. The body convulsed, then was still. We stood there, waiting, chests heaving.
“How many do you think there are?” Visha asked finally. “How many are infected?”
“And how did they get infected?” I added.
“They want to feed,” Blake observed. “They don’t seem to care from who. That must be how it starts, a bite.”
“They’re slow, too,” Theo noted. “At least, slow for highbloods.”
“About the same as a blightborn,” Visha agreed. “Which makes them easier for us to take down. Still hard for blightborn.”
I thought of Florence. She could still barely defend herself. Kage had ended their engagement. Now who would be there to stand by her side? “I need to go find Florence,” I said shortly.
“You’re not leaving this tower without me by your side.” Blake’s voice was iron. “Florence is House Avari. Kage will have things under control.”
“We don’t know that,” I snapped. “She could be all alone. She could be—”
“The girl has a fucking dragon,” he cut in.
“She’s not defenseless. But if you go out there, alone …
” He shook his head. “You’re staying here.
We’re sticking together. No one goes out by themselves.
That’s an order.” He looked back and forth between Theo and Visha.
They nodded. “Now, we sweep every level of the tower. We knock on every door. We check every room. We count the healthy students. We find any who are infected.”
Visha interrupted. “And then? Do we kill them all? What if we can save them?”
We all looked at her.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Well?”
“I don’t know,” Blake said, his face weary.
Was I the only one who had noticed his eyes? The change was subtle. The dark crimson was almost mistakable for black when he stood in the shadows. But I knew what I’d seen.
“If they’re trying to actively attack us, we have no choice but to eliminate them.
” He frowned. “But you make a good point. We’ll keep the injured in the infirmary under close supervision.
Let’s begin. We’ll go door-to-door down the second floor hall first, then make our way there.
” He glanced at me.“Medra, Florence will be all right.”
“You don’t know that,” I said bluntly. “You’re just hoping you’re right.”
“We’ll go to her as soon as we’ve secured the Drakharrow tower, I swear it. Until then, you’re by my side. Tell me you understand. Tell me you’ll listen.”
I bit back the questions I was burning to ask. Whatever he was hiding I would drag into the light later. I glanced at the clock on the wall—twenty minutes left. “For now.”