Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
By breakfast, most of the buzz surrounding yesterday’s incident has died down. The fledgling, Tobias Fleece, is in the infirmary until his family fetches him. Then he’ll be taken to a healer who can hopefully fix him, though the prognosis for eyril overdose or poisoning doesn’t sound good. According to gossip, Fligthhaven loses at least one fledgling per class to the epidemic. Leesa’s class already had one, so this makes two. No one ever hears from them again. No one even knows how they get the additional eyril needed to cause that type of reaction in the first place. Despite these horrific revelations, my attention centers on a different topic.
Elijah.
Yesterday, he all but admitted he asked Leesa out and she turned him down. Based on the anger he displayed, it doesn’t seem farfetched to believe Leesa’s rejection spurred him to either hurt or, gods forbid, kill her. It’s the closest I have to a working theory so far, but tracking down proof seems impossible.
After breakfast, I survive Kinneck’s drills and sprints, vomiting only once and evading most of my classmates’ attempts at revenge for being the cause of additional repetitions.
In Flight Geography, we discuss how to navigate in challenging weather conditions and assess the safest locations to land. The instructor mentions that certain places with old magic can be hidden from detection altogether, making me wish I could borrow that ability when Elijah glares at me from across the room.
I spend most of lunch fretting about how to get through flight training without revealing my fear of alicorns. Pleading dizziness worked once, but something tells me Thorne won’t let that same excuse fly a second time. And unless my fear went poof overnight, there’s no possibility of me climbing onto one of those winged beasts’ backs and letting the creature launch me into the sky.
The more I dwell, the more panic sets in. What am I going to do? I’m a fool for coming to a flight academy without a solid plan for managing my fear of flying, but too late for second guessing. I need more time.
I scan the mess hall, searching wildly for inspiration while Olive and Abel joke about a mishap in magic training their first week where a student accidentally hit the instructor with a stream of water that propelled him into the pond. Nick mentions an incident with a student involving a hangover so terrible that the student tripped themselves with their own wind magic, injured their ankle, and had to sit out of classes for the day. My attention sweeps past Elijah and Helene. Pauses. Returns.
Clenching a cup of lukewarm tea in my hand, I push back my chair and stand. My pulse throbs in my throat. This is such a bad idea. Terrible. The worst. Am I really going through with it?
I picture Zephyr, with his huge black horn and enormous wings. I see Thorne tossing me into the saddle and slapping the alicorn on the haunch, sending us hurtling to the heavens. My stomach plunges, and my hands shake.
Ignoring Olive’s questioning glance, I head straight for Elijah.
When I show up to Flight training a little late, I find the other students already in the process of leading their saddled mounts from the stable. With his arms folded across his chest, Thorne supervises, his back facing me.
“Excuse me, Instructor Thorne. Sorry I’m late. I had a little accident.”
“Axton.” He stiffens before slowly twisting around. “I don’t care if you?—”
His eyes widen when they land on my face. Courtesy of my own inspection in the bathing chamber’s mirror a few minutes ago, I know I’m not a pretty sight. The skin beneath my left eye is already turning a spectacular shade of purple. Blood drips from my nose and onto my top lip, which has puffed to twice the normal size. For dramatic purposes, I may or may not have intentionally smeared blood onto my left cheek.
I fidget as the moments pass by in silence. Why isn’t he saying anything? The weight of his scrutiny spikes my nerves.
Voices approach, intruding on our little tableau. I latch onto the hushed conversation with a flare of relief.
“…I heard she just walked right up to him, poured her glass of tea over his head, and said she was scared to retaliate for the coffee until she heard that a newborn baby packed a meaner punch than him.”
“Someone told me it had something to do with her sister. I was too far away to hear, but I saw him stand up and punch her. He knocked her flat on her ass.”
Two female students I don’t know by name steal glances at me as they lead their alicorns past us to the field. The closest one winces when she sees my face. Her alicorn unexpectedly sidesteps in my direction, and I jump before I can stop myself.
When I shift back toward Thorne, his narrowed eyes and shrewd expression zip alarm down my spine. “I’m feeling a little unsteady on my feet. Permission to go to the infirmary?”
For one horrifying instant, I’m convinced he’s going to deny me. I rub a blood droplet from beneath my nose, flinching when my hand connects with my sore lip.
He watches the motion before jerking his chin. “Permission granted.”
“Thank you, sir.”
I whirl before he can change his mind and stride toward the infirmary, relief a warm swell within my chest. While only a temporary reprieve, I’ll take what I can get. I know I’ll need to get more creative in the future if I want to avoid class again.
“Next time, unless you’re dead or missing a limb, I’ll expect you to fly.”
I miss a step. Stumble. Force myself to continue walking without looking back. That way I can tell myself that I’m imagining his suspicion-laced words and remain happily convinced that he didn’t see right through my scheme to avoid class.
When I enter the infirmary, the freckled medic’s eyes widen. “You again?”
With a sheepish grunt, I hop onto a cot. “Afraid so.”
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” Shaking his head, Keller proceeds to make me a poultice. “Here, hold this on your eye. It should help with the swelling.”
After confirming I’m following his instructions, he turns and rummages through the cupboard. Scooting to one side, I crane my neck and peer into the cupboard, too, triumph filling me a moment later. Yes. On the middle shelf. The stack of bandages, shorter today than on my last visit, implies the medic never got the chance to grab more supplies from the storage building.
He emerges from the cabinet holding a glass container. Quickly, I scoot over to my original position on the cot. Wielding metal tongs, he withdraws two tiny, brown, leaf-like objects and drops them into a small sack.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Willow bark for the pain. If your eye or head starts hurting too much, break off a small piece and chew.” He hands me the bag. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope I don’t see you in here again anytime soon.”
A fledgling on one of the other cots moans. The medic shoots him a harried glance, and I seize the opportunity. “I’m sorry to cause you so much trouble. You’re a real lifesaver.” I lay the appreciation on thick, beaming and pressing a hand to my chest.
That earns me a gratified smile. His pale cheeks turn pink. “It was no trouble.”
“Still, I wish I could repay you somehow.” I nibble my lower lip as if in thought. “Hey, I know. Do you still need someone to grab more bandages and supplies for you out of storage? Because I talked to Flyer Quinnelle and was planning to head there myself to grab my sister’s belongings.”
Not a lie. My first day at Flighthaven, I did talk to Flyer Quinnelle about Leesa’s stuff, and one way or another, I do plan on hitting up storage to grab her things. A key would just make my life a lot simpler. I never claimed anyone sanctioned my visit. If Keller doesn’t know the rule about waiting periods to claim personal items during active investigations…well…oops.
His face lights up. “Really? That’d be great. The medical supplies are by the entrance to the right, and the box with bandages should be labeled.”
“What about the boxes belonging to previous students? Do you happen to know where those are located? I forgot to ask and don’t want to waste a bunch of time.”
“I believe you can find those in the back corner on the right side of the building as well, though I won’t swear to it.”
Now comes the tricky part. “Perfect. Can I use your key? That’ll save me a trip to the front office.”
He hesitates, his gaze becoming speculative as I arrange my features into the expression of innocent sincerity that I perfected after a lifetime of living with my mother.
Another fledgling stumbles into the infirmary, limping and groaning. “I think I broke my ankle.”
The medic helps the fledgling to a cot before jerking his chin at me. “Key’s in the blue bowl on the table. Thanks.”
He rolls up the fledgling’s trousers and begins to untie his patient’s boot. Hurrying to make my escape, I rush to the table, snatch the key, and bolt for the door.
Guilt pings in my chest as I dash into the sunlight. I rub the spot, telling myself that I’m not completely misleading him. I really am doing him a favor…I’m just tacking on a little extra bonus for my good behavior.
Fine, so I’m a jerk. I can accept that. If minor acts of jerkiness are the sole payment required to find Leesa, I’ll consider it a small price. At least I’m not choking unsuspecting dessert-eaters with poisoned custard or shooting arrows at people’s heads with no provocation.
With the other fledglings in classes, the walkways are empty. The storage building squats on the opposite side of campus. After reassuring myself that no one’s looking, I break into a jog. It still takes me a good chunk of time to reach the building. Feeling a little like a criminal, I insert the key and unlock the door. Sunlight spills inside, illuminating a rectangle of gray stone floor, and ever-lamps affixed to the walls reveal tower upon tower of trunks and miscellaneous objects.
I blow out a mouthful of air. “Let’s hope our medic friend knows what he’s talking about.” If not, it could take days to sift through all this crap to find Leesa’s trunk.
Thankfully, Keller was right. Stacks of trunks wait in the far back righthand corner, all of them labeled with names. I locate Leesa’s without too much trouble and open the trunk, holding my breath as I inspect the contents.
Three training uniforms, perfectly folded. Flying leathers. Undergarments, socks, and sturdy leather boots. A navy cloak. Sleepwear. A fancy dress and a few other garments from home. Toiletries, notebooks, and a couple of odds and ends, one of which is the small jade carving of a dragon that I paid Royce to find for Leesa and then gave to her as a birthday gift. No clues await. No surprises there. This was always a longshot. Still, I can’t help the cold weight of disappointment that presses against my skin. The optimist in me had clung to the hope of finding a clue hidden amongst her stuff. A journal. A letter. Anything.
A horrifying realization crushes my spine. The trunk contains a lot of belongings. Too many belongings for Leesa to have taken much, if anything, with her.
A lump clots my throat. Leesa leaving her stuff behind makes running off with a lover less likely, and of the believable theories, that was the most benign. The others involve someone hurting her. But why? Why Leesa, and why from Flighthaven?
Male voices reach my ears, signaling the end of my adventure. I toss Leesa’s belongings, everything except for the jade dragon and the notebooks, back into the trunk. When the door creaks open, I have the chest sitting in its original spot.
Pocketing the dragon, I clutch the notebooks to my chest with one hand, dangle the key from the other, and stride down the walkway toward the door while muttering aloud. “Now, where could that medical box be? Keller will kill me if I’m not back with those bandages soon.”
One of the men calls out a greeting. If my surprised gasp seems theatrical, neither of them notice. They barely give me a second glance before directing me to the right of the door. I make quick work of locating the boxes of bandages, grabbing one, and returning to the infirmary.
After dropping off the supplies and key, I have just enough time to return to my room and tuck Leesa’s notebooks beneath my mattress. With my head throbbing, I let my eyes drift shut for a second…
I wake to the dinner horn and spend most of the meal recounting my version of my altercation with Elijah, and then listening as Olive, Abel, and Theo recount different versions of the same event that grow more ridiculous with each telling. The gossip here could rival the stories my mother’s friends whisper at her parties.
By the time we finish eating and return to the room, all I want is peace and quiet. Flopping on my bed, I bury my nose in a book I brought from home and thank the gods when Olive takes the hint and doesn’t chatter in my ear. I read as she and Helene head off to the shared showers.
Upon their return, they both fall fast asleep, and the room fills with their soft snores and sighs. After reading until my eyes start to cross, I trade my book for my white nightgown and the towel provided by Flighthaven and head for the common bathing chamber. Thankfully, it’s empty. I’m not ashamed of my body, but I’m also not accustomed to getting naked in front of other people. I figure I can work my way up to exposing more skin in front of others once I’ve settled in.
Through some delightful combination of piping, hot springs, and magic, warm water flows from round holes in the wall. I soap off and then stand beneath the cascade. With my palms planted against the wall, I lower my face and let the soothing heat ease the agony from my screaming muscles. The solitude allows me a few moments of peace…to simply exist. Away from the scrutiny of so many eyes.
For so long, I’ve been desperate for a taste of freedom. Anything to get me out of the castle. Now that I have it, I’m not sure what I think. I’ve been gone less than three days, and already I long for the safety of my home. Maybe my mother is right. Maybe I’m too weak to thrive outside of the castle grounds.
By the time I finally flip the switch that stops the water, my skin has pinkened. Wringing the moisture from my hair, I step outside the enclosure, freezing when the ever-lights flicker off. The chamber plunges into darkness.
“Hello? Is someone there?”
A noise, like a muffled snicker, echoes in the chamber before silence reigns again. My pulse drums in my ears. Is this part of the hazing Olive and Vice Commander Torno mentioned? Elijah and his buddies preparing for another round of target practice? Another attempt at cooking me to a crisp with fireballs? Whatever the threat, one thing’s for sure. Naked and wet isn’t the ideal way to face it.
Ignoring my bleating nerves, I fumble around in the dark until my fingers touch soft linen. My nightgown. More groping doesn’t recover the towel, so I pull the nightgown over my head without drying off. The thin material clings to my damp skin, but at least I’m covered. One problem solved. If only I could access my fire magic and banish the darkness, but a quick attempt results in the usual failure.
A whisper off to the left causes me to jump. Assholes. Don’t they have anything better to do than play immature pranks or bully me? At least no one’s aiming a deadly weapon at my heart. Yet.
The thought barely has time to surface before a flame flickers to life. Harsh hands grab my shoulders. Someone stuffs a cloth into my mouth. I catch a fleeting glimpse of masked faces before my assailants shove a bag over my head.