Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
According to my map, the library resides on the far end of the building housing the auditoriums. There, I discover a small, dim space filled with dark shelves. The gray-haired librarian sorting through books behind the counter offers me a terse greeting and informs me the library will be closing in ten minutes. He directs me to the history section in the back corner. Plenty of books on Aclaris history line the shelves, but volumes on Kamor or Tirene are scarce, and none have a title close to the one Helene mentioned. Disappointed, I grab a slim volume on Tirenese history and focus my attention on hunting for a book with a protective cover, one large enough to cover Leesa’s notebooks. While I trust Olive not to report me to Bigley for breaking into storage and digging through Leesa’s possessions, Helene is another story. Although she’s stopped hassling me as much as she did the first day, she still might delight in landing me in hot water with the commander.
When I present the books, the gray-haired librarian pins me with a suspicious glare. “There’s no cooking in the dorms.”
Okay. Not exactly sure how to respond to that. “I bet there’s no cooking in the library either.”
His glare deepens as he gestures to the book on top. Wrinkling my brow, I glance down. I was so worried about picking the right size, I never checked the title. One Hundred Eel Recipes to Delight Your Family.
Gross. Even the thought of forcing down slippery bits of eel rolls my stomach. “I promise, I’m not planning on cooking eels in the dorms or anywhere else. That’s actually not the book I meant to grab.” I need a book that won’t draw unwanted attention, and I’m guessing a random cookbook about eels achieves the exact opposite.
Quickly, I trade it for one about the history of Flighthaven and return to the counter. “I was wondering, do you have a book on Ancient Tirenese History and Legends?”
The librarian shuffles to a box on the counter, lifts the lid, and begins flipping through the papers inside. “I do, but another fledgling already borrowed it. They missed the return deadline. I’ll have to send a notice…oh.” With a glum expression, he taps the paper with his pointer finger.
“Something wrong?”
“Yes. The student who borrowed this book is no longer with us. Hopefully it will be returned once they finish inspecting her belongings, but until then, there’s nothing I can do.”
“Thanks, anyway.”
Helene wasn’t lying. Leesa did have this book. I already know it’s not in the box with the rest of her possessions, so where could it possibly be?
Back at the room, I grab my shower supplies and hurry to the communal bathing chamber. The two fledglings I overheard gossiping about my altercation with Elijah are already there. They shoot me curious glances but don’t say anything as I race through my shower, keeping my dagger within reach and my ears open for approaching trouble.
On my way back, I pass Helene and Olive heading for the showers. As usual, Helene walks several paces ahead of Olive, spine stiff like someone shoved a metal rod down her back. Olive screws up her eyes and sticks out her tongue as she trails her.
Smiling, I hustle into our room, put away my supplies, hang my towel to dry, and then grope under the bed for Leesa’s notebooks. I pull one out, remove the protector cover for the Flighthaven history book, and place the disguise over the notebook, then shove the Flighthaven book under the bed.
Mission complete. Now to see if Leesa’s notebooks contain anything helpful.
I settle on the bed and begin to read. My heart cramps at the sight of my sister’s familiar, messy scrawl. The notes start with history, and my pace slows in spots where Leesa’s handwriting becomes difficult to decipher. Helene walks in and spares me a passing glance before retreating to her side of the room.
“Decide not to follow in your sister’s footsteps by choosing a patriotic book instead?”
Her voice startles me. Every other night she’s ignored me, so I’m not sure why she’s decided to break the trend. “Can’t I be interested in more than one thing?” Just not eel recipes. “The book Leesa was reading was never returned to the library.”
Helene closes her armoire door and plumps her pillow. “Doesn’t shock me. She was weird about that book. Wouldn’t surprise me if she hid it somewhere so no one else could grab it.”
Brain spinning, I stare at Helene. Leesa did like to hide stuff at home. Usually personal things, like a journal or special necklace that she didn’t want me to wear. It became a game of sorts, with her finding new hiding spots and me hunting them down. How does Helene know that, though?
Helene opens her own book and refuses to meet my eye. I don’t know what to make of her words. Maybe my snobby roommate knew Leesa better than she let on.
Olive flounces into the room, tosses her supplies on the floor, and flops across her bed. “Oh my gods, I’m so beat. I feel like I could sleep for three days straight.”
Maybe it’s the power of suggestion, but as soon as she says she’s tired, my body demands sleep and my eyelids grow heavy. I close the notebook and set it on the floor on the far side of my bed, away from prying eyes.
As I’m drifting off, I review my list of things to do. I need to search Elijah’s room. Finish looking through Leesa’s notebooks. Try to hunt down the missing book on Tirene. And there’s a fourth thing…dragons! Torno mentioned Leesa’s dragon fascination. I have to figure out how to get closer to them. I doubt I’ll stumble upon any earth-shattering discoveries, but after Thorne’s odd comment, I’m already curious about them.
My mind drifts. Soon, I’m floating. Some invisible entity stalks me, but each time I twist around to see what it is, oily black smoke hides whatever’s there.
My breath catches.
Just as those inky plumes lick the air close to me, I peer ahead and the monster—person?—materializes again, but in my peripheral vision.
Trembling, I struggle to remain mounted on Zephyr.
“ Fly !” I prod him with my boots.
He whizzes through the stalks, despite their thick barrier.
Torn leaves shoot up around me. Stalks topple over, wrapping around my legs and yanking to pull me off Zephyr.
I gasp.
A murderous screech sounds.
The pursuer behind us races closer, reaching out with inky, sinuous tentacles. Its shriek shakes the stalks and ground, and as the entity draws closer, frigid fear pours over me, holding me captive.
Ziva, save me!
I direct Zephyr to fly toward the sun.
The tendrils disappear, casting the world into impenetrable darkness.
More screeching—louder this time. The universe shudders around us. Somewhere in the distance, Leesa screams.
The dark, oily smoke returns, swamping me in a black cloud. The entity slithers up my nose. Into my mouth. Slides down my throat and oozes through my insides, replacing my blood with foul slime. Agony streaks through my veins until I all but disappear. Until all that remains of me is desperation.
No more.
Zephyr bucks, tossing me from the saddle like when my father died.
I plunge toward the pulsing, humming morass, but this time, as I fall, fear mixes with stark relief.
No more. No more.
My shrieks fill the air. In the distance, a dragon roars.
Before I crash into the ground, I wake with a jerk, sweat streaming between my breasts. The roar echoes in my ears, and I’m shivering so hard that the bed shakes. Ever-lights flash on showing Olive and Helene on their feet, peering out the window, and I realize it’s not me. The entire building quakes like a giant reached down to rattle the foundation between his fists.
In the hall, doors open and shut. Boots pound the wooden floor, and confused voices float past.
“What’s happening?” I haul myself out of bed and grab my boots. After the shower incident, I started sleeping in the Flighthaven issued sleepwear, and the lightweight tunic and pants are decent enough to be seen in mixed company.
Olive steps away from the window. “Not sure, but I think something may have crashed outside.”
I open the door. “Are you sure it wasn’t an earthquake? What could crash with so much force?”
“Something big,” Helene says as we file into the hall.
Following the clusters of other fledglings, we rush down the stairs and out the front door into the cool night air. Shouting instructors and staff dash toward a spot on the far side of the training field, their glowing ever-light lanterns and torches marking the path. A pit opens in my stomach, growing the closer we get to the site of the disturbance, and my head pounds as if someone cracked my skull with a hammer, pried it open, and shoved pain inside.
My legs wobble, and I stumble. Before my eyes, my surroundings waiver. Olive hooks my elbow before I go down and steadies me on my feet.
“Thanks.” If not for her quick reflexes, that weak spell would have taken me to the ground.
“No problem.”
She keeps hold of my arm, which I’m thankful for. The dizziness lingers, and the pain in my head won’t go away. The people ahead of us start to slow. Gasps and sobs fill the air. I wonder if I’m hallucinating, because a dark mountain rises in front of them, and I know for a fact the cliffs are farther back.
Then the shape becomes clearer, and my lungs quit working. Not a mountain at all. It’s a?—
“Dragon,” Olive whispers.
A dragon. A dragon crashed in our training field. But how? Why?
Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m pushing between fledglings, overcome with a sudden, sharp need to get closer. Ignoring the dirty glances, I keep shoving my way forward until I break free of the crowd of students. A grim Torno hovers over to one side, conversing with Celeste Dawson, my weapons instructor. Everyone is just standing around, doing nothing, and I don’t understand why. Can’t they see the dragon’s suffering?
Frantic, I glance around wildly for someone who can help and latch onto a familiar, tall figure stalking across the grass. With a muffled sob, I sprint over to him and grasp his sleeve. “Please! You have to put him out of his misery. Can’t they tell that he’s hurting?”
Thorne’s eyes widen. I’m shocked when he takes me seriously and heads straight for the dragon, placing a palm on the beast’s massive head and waiting several moments before turning to Torno with a bleak expression. “He’s still alive, but barely. Someone needs to fetch an air harpoon.”
Torno peers at the dragon’s face. “Oh, but are you sure? If he’s still alive, maybe we can?—”
Thorne stiffens. “No. His legs are crushed, and there’s probably internal damage.” His attention shifts to Instructor Dawson. “How high up were you when he started to fall?”
The weapons instructor winces. “High. There’s no possibility that he doesn’t have internal bleeding. I’m surprised he’s even alive.”
She shudders, and Thorne squeezes her hand. My gaze zeroes in on the gesture. Is he comforting her? Thorne? My irascible flight instructor actually knows how to comfort people?
I don’t know why I fixate on their touching hands, but I can’t pry my eyes away. Maybe I’m going into shock.
Torno pats Dawson’s shoulder. “We’re lucky you’re an air elemental, or you would be right there with him.”
The instructor’s expression pinches, and she presses her free hand to her stomach. “Please, don’t remind me. Even with air magic, if I’d timed it wrong, I’d be dead.”
Finally, Thorne releases Dawson. “The air harpoon?”
Torno snaps her fingers. “Oh, right. Let me see who can help get that.”
The vice commander glances from face to face as if struggling to decide who to trust with the task, causing Thorne to growl.
“Fuck this.”
Prowling back to the dragon, he strokes the scales between the animal’s eyes, sorrow etched into his features. He leans over to whisper in its ear. When he finishes, he bows his head, his hands curled into fists at his sides. A moment later, the biggest ice spear I’ve ever seen materializes in his right hand. Without hesitation, he shoves the tip through the dragon’s eye and deep into its brain.
Ignoring the startled whispers, Thorne checks to ensure the dragon’s heart stopped. His chest lifts and lowers, and he bows his head once more before turning away. He stalks back toward me. The speculative gleam in his eye when his gaze lands on my face shifts into a glare as he addresses the crowd. “For all students, the show is over. Get the fuck back to your rooms. Now. If I see any of your ugly mugs in twenty seconds, you’ll be facing whatever punishment I dream up for the next three weeks. Go!”
All around me, fledglings spin around and flee. I have the misfortune of overhearing a female student comment that getting punished by Thorne might be fun, though I notice she still takes off with the others. I’m the only one stupid enough to disregard his threat and stay in place.
His gaze returns to me. Strain flattens his lips, and his broad shoulders round a little. His attention shifts to my cheeks, and when I raise my fingers to touch them, they come away wet.
“Thank you.” The hoarse whisper drags past the knot in my throat.
Emotion flares in his eyes, and he bows his head, reminding me of how he offered the same gesture to the dragon. A gesture of respect, maybe?
When he straightens, a mocking smirk tugs at his lips. He makes a shooing motion with his hands. “Five seconds before you’re stuck with me for even longer.”
Not needing a second reminder, I whirl and flee for the dorms.