“But his foresight is uncontrollable,” I say.
“Is it?” Savage takes out a tiny silver tin from his pocket and opens it to show me white powder. He taps out a tiny amount onto the back of his hand and puts it under Eugene’s nose.
“Savage—” I protest.
But Eugene eagerly leans down, and as Savage covers one nostril, Eugene sniffs the portion up. I stare open-mouthed as Eugene shakes himself, making a stifled sound before settling with a “bok,”as if to reassure me.
“Are you guys seeing them?” a familiar deadpan sounds from a walkie-talkie behind me, and I turn to see Xander raising the device to his mouth.
“Yes, Sabrina, we see them. You four organised?”
Stacey’s excited voice sounds this time. “Copy that! We’re on the anima dorm, yes! We’re ready for these fuckers. Can we go through the team names again? Over.”
Xander sighs, scratching the bridge of his nose with his thumb. “Fine. Aurelia and Lyle are Team Boneweaver. Savage and Eugene are Team Dazzle. I’m…Team Xander. Over.”
“Right!” Stacey says. “Me and the nimpins are Team Cotton Ball. Sabrina, Blair, and Blade are Team Assassin. Over!”
“And!” comes Minnie’s voice. “Marduk, Yeti and I are Team Pink.”
“Roger that,” says Beak. “I’m leading Team Avian with our full flock, but we’re split into A and B.”
I raise my brows at Xander, but he shrugs and speaks to the teams again. “Our beasts on the wall are split into order groups, in subsets of A and B. Scythe or myself will call out to direct as necessary.”
The trucks rumble closer, and even though I know it will happen, it still makes my heart ache to see our group split up. Savage and Eugene, Team Dazzle, are the first to leave for the front wall. Minnie and Marduk follow him.
My shark, lion, and dragon flank me. Lyle has exchanged his usual suit for a fresh set of what he wore to Boneweaver Island: simple black track pants and a T-shirt. For some reason, Scythe doesn’t change his clothes and wears his normal black business shirt and slacks. I can only tolerate a set of shorts and a tank top, both black and stretchy, giving me room to move and shift.
“They’ll send the helicopters first,” Scythe says from my right. “We’ll need to respond to their request.”
I nod as the helicopters do indeed make themselves known—a set of two, loud and slowing down as they approach us. My heart hammers in my chest, and I don’t give in to the urge to cover my ears against the sound. The academy has been surrounded by a second shield this entire time, my own. I retract it now, bringing it in to surround me and my mates. It’s important I conserve my energy now.
Both helicopters stop at the boundary between the outside world and the blue dome, swaying as the megaphone resounds out. “His honourable Mace Naga and the state authoritiesdeclare Animus Academy now closed. All students and staff are commanded to file out in an orderly mannerimmediately.”
“You’ll have to kill us first!” screams a female voice from the anima dorms that sounds awfully like Sabrina. It’s followed by a cheer.
The magnified voice speaks out. “Very well. We have been ordered to take the Academy by any means necessary. This is your final warning.”
Lyle’s phone vibrates, and he answers it with a terse, “This is Lyle Pardalia.”
It’s my father’s voice on the other side, and I go still as I hear it. “Surrender the school, Mr Pardalia. This is in your best interest.”
“And be sucked into your basilisk’s hell vortex?” Lyle growls, to my surprise. “I think not, Mr Naga.” A chill runs down my spine.
“Very well. Tell my daughter goodbye.” The line dies.
Cold dread expands in my stomach. He has some nerve calling medaughternow, for the first time in eight years. In my head, an eagle shrieks, and suddenly, the helicopter before us, the one on the right, bursts into flame, its engine catching fire.
We all turn to look at Xander, his mouth set into a straight, thin line, his anger heating up the air around us. “I’ve fought beside you in every fucking lifetime, regina.”
I smile at him. “Did we win in those lifetimes?”
He cocks his head slightly. “No. But we’ll win this. I’ll make sure of it.”
Despite the heat reeling off him, something about his words chills me. I turn back to the front of the school where a convoy of military trucks have gathered a distance away from the front gate—or whatwasthe front gate. In place of the fancy black and gold cast iron scrollwork is solid black brick with a lonegargoyle’s head at its top and centre. I have to shift to my eagle eyes, but my suspicions are confirmed.
A stone bob, a narrow face, and a head that sits just askew like it had been torn off at some point, the surface of its stone mangled as if by sharp teeth. What remained of The Collector’s head has been made into a new gargoyle.
I stare at it as Xander speaks on the walkie-talkie again. “Felines on the wall, stand ready. Team Pink, watch yourselves; they’ll come for you first. Deflect artillery, and dislodge any weapons.”
