Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Even though I’m doing nothing wrong—yet—my skin prickles as I walk down the first-floor hall toward Theo and Elijah’s room. After checking both ways to ensure no one’s watching, I slip through the door and immediately head to the right side of the room, which Theo described as Elijah’s side. To the left, Theo’s bed is rumpled, with one side of the navy-blue comforter pulled back to reveal the sheets and his pillow on the floor. A deck of playing cards is scattered across the top of the mattress. Books and papers decorate the surface of his armoire, including a child’s drawing of a stick figure riding what resembles an alicorn. A tunic dangles from one of the knobs, and a dagger and candle sit on his nightstand.
Elijah’s side is the opposite. Not a single wrinkle or lump mars the surface of his comforter, and his pillow sits perfectly plumped in the center of the headboard. There’s nothing on the top of his dresser. Nothing on the nightstand. An Aclaris flag hangs on the wall as the sole decoration. Compared to Theo’s space, Elijah’s looks unlived in.
I search his armoire first. Based on what I’ve seen so far, I’m expecting to find precise organization and his clothes folded just so. Instead, I open the first drawer to chaos. A tunic bursts free from the overflowing mishmash of items crammed inside. Wrinkled clothes, books, weapons, and even a plate compete for space. Mildew wafts from the contents, and my nose wrinkles as I withdraw a damp towel, which I quickly drop on the floor.
Ew. I should have brought gloves.
The chaotic state of Elijah’s drawers makes scouring through them take longer. I sift through the contents with as much speed as possible while still being thorough. I’m not sure what I’m looking for…or if I even want to find something. Any hint about Leesa’s disappearance I stumble across in Elijah’s room probably points to nothing good.
Finished with the drawers, I switch to the hanging compartment. No clues, but I do discover three extra tunics over the Flighthaven issued amount, along with two cups from the mess hall, and a woman’s nightgown. It’s not one of Leesa’s, though, so I close the doors and head to the bed. Nothing beneath it or the pillow. Nothing hidden on the underside of the mattress. The shared desk only holds writing utensils and blank paper.
My hope sinks as I move to the nightstand, the last place to investigate. Inside, I find another mess. Using my fingertips, I shift a small mountain of dirty socks to one side. Yup, next time I break into a dorm room, I’m definitely wearing gloves. Plus, a mask over my nose to spare me from the stench of sweaty male feet. No wonder Elijah steals Theo’s and other fledgling’s tunics. The man doesn’t seem to grasp the concept of laundry soap.
Shifting the socks reveals a hair tie. My heart leaps into my throat. Wheezing, I work to suck air into my lungs. It’s not just any hair tie, but a braided purple and black one. Not having conducted a thorough examination of the most popular colors of hair ties, I can’t speak with certainty, but I’d bet a set of dragon-scale armor that the exact purple and black combination in my hand isn’t particularly common. I do know one person who wore them, though.
Leesa. And the two hairs trapped within the braid match her dark blond tresses.
I curl my hand around the thin leather cords and close my eyes, picturing the accessory wrapped around the end of my sister’s braid. “What in the three hells are you doing with Leesa’s hair tie, Elijah?”
My earlier thought returns with a vengeance. Nothing good.
Shoving the hair tie into my left boot, I return to the drawer and push more socks aside. My fingers graze a smooth surface. A notebook. I thumb through the first few pages, revealing a set of painstakingly printed notes about navigation. The remaining pages appear blank as I flip through them until I reach the end.
Outside in the hall, male voices carry. I freeze. After a door slams shut, the quiet returns. My muscles unclench, but my nerves remain taut, like a tightened string on a violin.
I need to hurry. Finish up and get out of here before Elijah saunters in.
With a shaky breath, I return to the notebook. Elijah’s printing litters the second to the last page, and the content pulls a gasp from my lips. The top line reads, Where did L.A. go?
The remaining lines serves as a written summary of every theory regarding Leesa’s disappearance to ever reach my ears.
At the bottom, the line Hire an investigator is underlined.
I gawk at the page, struggling to keep my mind from exploding over the evidence in front of my face. Elijah isn’t responsible for my sister’s disappearance. If he were, he wouldn’t need a list to figure out her current location.
The fact that he’s searching for her and holding onto her used hairband like a stalker creeps me out in an entirely different way, but I table those thoughts for now. One crisis at a time.
I’m returning the notebook to the drawer when Theo’s voice booms down the hall. “I told you I needed to go to the room to look for a library book anyway, Elijah!” His boisterous shout could wake the dead. A warning.
Shit.
I slam the drawer shut, shove the note into my boot, and dart for the door.
As I edge it open, Theo yells again. “Elijah, seriously. You don’t need to come too!”
I peek out to find my accomplice blocking the stairwell door. Theo widens his eyes at the sight of me and flaps his hand in a hurry up gesture.
The door Theo’s blocking rattles, and someone bangs against the wood on the opposite side. “Let me in or I swear, I’m going to pound your face into a pulp!”
For a second, I freeze. Where do I go? Theo stabs his finger toward the opposite end of the hall. Stairs , he mouths.
Slipping out of the room, I ease the door shut and race in that direction. I didn’t know there was a second set of stairs on that side, but I trust Theo. Sure enough, I push open the last door on the left and burst into an empty stairwell, my pulse sprinting like I just ran Kinneck’s drills.
Two ever-lights provide dim illumination, splashing an anemic glow over wood battered from the countless boots pounding it day in and day out. I don’t realize I’m studying each step until one near the top catches my eye. A sliver of darkness appears between the top and the body of the step, where the wood has warped and separated.
What really makes my breathing quicken, however, is the tiny A carved into the corner near the wall. So faint and innocuous that no one would notice unless they knew what to look for.
I do, though.
Listening for footsteps, I crouch and wedge my fingers in to pry the gap open. With a little force, the wood creaks and gives, creating a wide enough space for me to reach inside. My hunting fingers find a folded piece of paper and a chain. I pull both out.
I frown at the necklace. The delicate gold chain holds a tiny dragon pendant, neither of which I recognize. I unfold the paper, and my muscles seize.
Leesa’s handwriting stares back at me.
Nearby laughter spurs me into action. Shoving the wood back into place, I drop the necklace and note into my boot. When I scurry into my room, Helene and Olive are both inside with wet hair.
Olive’s lounging on her bed, while Helene sits at the desk, writing a letter. My least favorite roommate glances up when I enter. “Your face is all red and sweaty.”
“Yeah. I was doing some exercises…trying to catch up to the rest of you so Kinneck won’t keep whistling at me.”
I don’t know if she believes me, but she returns to her letter without comment.
Olive raises her eyebrows at me. I shake my head at her silent inquiry, letting her know I discovered nothing in Elijah’s room that would indicate he kidnapped or hurt Leesa in retaliation for the ego blow she dealt him.
I perch on my bed, facing the wall as I slip off my boots and palm the piece of paper, necklace, and hair tie. I slide all of them beneath my pillow before rushing to the bathing chamber to take the world’s shortest shower. Back in the room, I force myself to go through my regular routine, which feels like it takes hours instead of minutes. Finally, I curl onto my right side, away from Helene and Olive, and ease the paper from its hiding spot.
Only a handful of Leesa’s words peppers the page, scrawled in an even messier script than usual. The words themselves send my pulse climbing.
The first line reads, What’s wrong with the dragons? The following one says, Sickness? Sabotage? Eyril overdose?
Below that, she wrote my name and underlined it twice, followed by File? Fire?
My heart stutters as I read the next line. The date our father died precedes the words, Research Tirenese account of attack.
Down the page, she writes, Prophecy? After that, only a single line remains. One that cramps my stomach.
Keep Lark away from Flighthaven.
A little late for that.
Too many minutes pass as I unsuccessfully attempt to decipher Leesa’s notes. The only sure conclusion I can draw is that my sister noticed an issue with the dragons. That, and her sudden interest in the Tirenese history, makes sense. Why she wanted to research the attack that killed our father, though, I don’t know. I also have no idea how my name came up or what at Flighthaven concerned her so much. And prophecy? What prophecy? And how does that tie in with everything else?
I’m guessing file? refers to the personal files the medic mentioned. The ones Flighthaven supposedly maintains on all young people of a certain age who might possibly attend the program.
Those are probably located in the records room I’ve passed innumerable times since arriving at Flighthaven Academy. But unless I can come up with a legitimate reason to see my file, reading the documents will entail another breaking and entering scenario, and who knows what the penalty is for getting caught. I’m not sure the risk is worth it, especially since I’m struggling to imagine that there’s anything worthwhile to be found.
Leesa’s list circles through my mind as I roll onto my back and close my eyes. An image of the dead dragon invades my head. Leesa was worried about the dragons, and now one has died. Coincidence? Doubtful. How could the dragons relate to her disappearance, though? Bigley mentioned foreign attacks. Could Leesa have stumbled across a foreign plot to kill the creatures off? Is there a traitor in our midst…one who got rid of my sister because she came close to discovering their secrets?
I need to get closer to the dragons. I need to find that book on Tirene. Maybe once I accomplish those tasks, the rest will click into place and point me to Leesa. I have to believe they will.
The alternative hurts too much to consider.