Chapter 5
Five
Applause rose at the front tables, where Lory suspected the older students sat—the ones Gray Braid had called thornlings—and when it ebbed, the crowd got up, lining up by the counter.
“You coming?” Lory barely heard Tabi, the woman already getting to her feet to stand in line for breakfast.
If the bone-deep shock would let her out of its hold, she might feel her body again and be able to stand up, but all she could see was the collapsed man, life taken from him just like that.
Not even on the butcher’s block had she felt the Guardians had forsaken her, but this…
This brutal display of power and hierarchy—
It was an act of willpower for Lory to swallow every last thought and force herself into a standing position. And hobble after the others. She needed to eat, or this place would digest her and spit her out before she could even bemoan her own existence.
“Take some of the goat cheese.” Tabi pulled her toward the edge of the counter, shoving a tray into her hands. “And the dark bread. You only get that at Ashthorn, too expensive for the common army.”
Like in a daze, Lory scooped up a ball of the white, herb-sprinkled cheese Tabi pointed out and allowed the woman to place a slice of bread on her plate.
“And eggs. You look like you need some serious energy.” Tabi held up two fingers to the man behind the counter, who promptly dumped a portion of scrambled eggs onto their plates.
“Fruit.” Tabi jerked her chin at the large array of glass bowls at the other end of the counter.
“Take your pick now before the good ones are all gone.”
Lory did as she was told, the smell of food ensnaring her so thoroughly it was hard to believe, one moment ago, she’d been convinced she’d never eat again.
Following Tabi’s lead, she picked up a random bowl, uncaring what type of fruit it was.
Any fruit was a luxury for a street rat like her, and if she could have cheese and eggs and a choice of fruit in one meal, she shouldn’t pass on it, no matter the still-wet blood on the dais, but lead filled her stomach, and bile rose in her throat.
When they returned to the table, Brycon, Frost, and Ricca were already eating; only Thal was behind them in the line. “Scoot over, Fresh Meat,” he prompted, setting down his tray next to hers and plopping what looked a lot like an olive into his mouth.
“Respect your female fellow ashlings, Thal.” Ricca snapped her fingers in front of his face, reaching over Lory’s tray as she stared unseeingly at the food she couldn’t believe she was about to eat.
A full meal. And she didn’t need to steal any of it.
Nothing had ever tasted as good and as wrong as the first bite of goat cheese she spooned into her mouth with a tiny piece of bread.
“I’m not disrespecting female ashlings,” Thal protested with too much humor for anyone just having witnessed someone die. “Brycon is a nice piece of fresh meat, too.”
“You disrespect all ashlings then?” Lory asked over the mouthful of food, unable to swallow before savoring it properly.
Perhaps it was the explosion of flavor in her mouth, but for that moment, Lory’s heart felt a bit lighter, and the grin on Thal’s face might have been the friendliest thing she’d seen since her brother smiled at her that night before he died.
Thal burst into a small, deep laugh. “I genuinely disrespect anyone who asks for it.”
“Shut up, Thal,” Ricca repeated, and Tabi stole an olive from his plate, giving him a rude gesture.
“See, she’s asking for it.” With a theatrical reach for his heart, Thal stared at Tabi.
“She’s tired of hearing you talk,” Brycon translated without looking up, leading his fruit-laden fork to his mouth.
Rolling his eyes, Thal turned to Lory, giving her his full attention like there was nothing more interesting in the world. “So, how did you end up here, Fresh Meat? Applied? Referred by military leadership? Invited?”
Lory quickly shoved a larger piece of bread into her mouth, then gave an excusing shrug while she slowly chewed.
“All right—” Leaning on his elbow, Thal glanced around the table.
“I applied a few months ago and was accepted last week. Had to pack up my things and leave my mom’s bakery within hours.
” Popping another olive into his mouth, he gestured at Brycon, who was binding his long black hair at the nape of his neck with a leather string.
“Brycon arrived the same day as me. Supposedly, he was referred by military leadership because he’s got all the brains. ”
Brycon’s brown cheeks turned a shade of pink Lory had only seen on the edges of dark desert roses.
“Don’t get all flattered, Bry. The Guardians may have blessed you with the brains, but they moved on before they could bless you with the looks.” Before Brycon could protest—or turn an even deeper shade of pink—Thal rolled on. “Because the looks all went to my woman Tabi here.”
Tabi merely raised a thin black eyebrow, biting sharply into a piece of hard cheese with gleaming, white teeth, and Lory couldn’t help but grin when Thal cringed.
“He thinks he speaks for all of us,” Ricca explained, half-amused, half-annoyed. “Not anything of value comes out of that mouth.”
The mock pout Thal gave her was comical enough to ease the tension in Lory’s stomach—or perhaps the food finally did its task.
“They accepted me a year ago,” Ricca announced with too much pride to make Lory anything other than suspicious. “Took about three more months to convince my family it’s the right choice. I moved here three weeks ago. Was the first of us … well, except for Frost. He’s been here longer.”
It didn’t elude Lory that Frost made no move to explain himself or why he’d chosen to come to Ashthorn Ward.
“You all came here willingly?” Lory couldn’t help but wonder if any of them could be sane if they signed up for this place of their own free will. She didn’t want to point out the obvious, but—“Even knowing they kill people in here?”
For a moment, Lory held her breath, carrying the weight of all their gazes as they put two and two together. “You’re not one of the applicants or referrals, then?” Ricca asked, more caution in her tone than when she’d introduced herself.
“They kill people because they miss breakfast.” Lory held out both her hands in an open shrug. “What do you think?”
From the glint of discomfort in Ricca’s eyes, Lory knew she shouldn’t have said anything.
The others applied to be here. Who knew how they felt about a random criminal thrown into the mix?
Thank the Guardians, Lory hadn’t mentioned anything about her run-in with Observant Eye, Gray Braid’s order to execute her, or that Falcrest’s obnoxiously handsome face would have been the last thing she saw had they not conscripted her to this abomination of an academy.
“They do occasionally peel filth off the streets of Dunai and conscript them to Ashthorn,” Ricca noted with an expression on her face as if she’d smelled something rotten.
“No one peeled me off the streets,” Lory protested with less bite than she’d intended. In her mind, she added, At least, not in the literal sense.
“Oh.” Ricca tilted her head an inch, looking Lory up and down, eyes glinting like dark green gemstones. “Something else then… Any special talents? Abilities that are rare to come by?”
Tabi shot her a glance that suggested she was close to sending her fork flying for Ricca’s head.
“Nothing of the sort,” Lory admitted, wondering if she should come up with a quick lie to settle the matter of why she was there, but Ricca was already talking again.
“Got into a fight before you came here, or is that from your lack of special skills?”
The bite of goat cheese and bread Lory had taken soured in her stomach. “That depends on whether you define getting hit over the head as a special skill.”
Tabi smothered a chuckle while Thal shot Lory a grin, pointing at her head with a long finger. “Explains the bruises.”
Brycon and Ricca shared a look that said it all.
“So, why do they kill students if they aren’t on time for breakfast?” Lory asked in a shameless attempt to avert their attention.
Tabi raised her other eyebrow at Lory. “The elite of the king’s military can’t risk having weaklings in their midst. Where others fail, we need to be perfect.
If we can’t even make it for a simple meal, how can we be certain we won’t be a split second too late to save our charge when we’re in service?
” There was no compassion in her tone, only fact.
“Why do you think I signed up?” She didn’t wait for Lory’s response.
“My father was ashmarked, working at the king’s court. I will follow in his footsteps.”
“It’s an honor to work directly at King Ulder’s court,” Brycon pointed out as if that was something Lory wasn’t aware of, and the casualness of his assumption stung deeper than Lory would have liked to admit.
They all signed up for this or were transferred from other branches of the Brestolyan military. An elite academy, not a prison. Still, what they said and what Lory had just witnessed didn’t add up.
“Why have I never heard anything about Ashthorn Ward before today?” It was truly the only question she needed to ask. Anees had mentioned it was the most secretive academy in all of Brestolya, but she hadn’t mentioned what they taught in this brutal place.
“Because no one does unless they are meant to be here.” Ricca’s voice dropped to a whisper, the six of them instinctively leaning closer. She tucked strands of hair that kept dancing into her face back behind her ear.
“Because they don’t want the kingdom to know they kill people for breakfast?” Lory didn’t care that all five of them were already watching her with suspicion.
“Because whoever is in here comes from a family that has shown evidence of magic.”
Lory’s heart stopped for a hot second, the food in her stomach turning leaden. “Magic,” she mouthed.