“I am.”
“I think the professor will be seriously pissed off if you go charging off into the Wastelands, risking your life,” Fly says. “What if he comes back and finds you gone?”
I look around at my two friends and the Princes. “You’re right.” Everyone gapes at me. I guess they’re used to me arguing with them. “I need to see if he comes back and if he doesn’t, I’m going to need a plan and for that I need your help.”
“Briony, Cupcake, I love you to bits, but there is no way I’m following you out into the demon wastelands. The professor is a nice guy and everything, kind of, but …”
“I know, Fly. I’m not asking you to.”
“Nini, if it comes down to it, you’re not going out there alone,” Thorne says. “We will come with you.”
“We will?” Dray cries.
“You want to let her go alone?”
“No,” Dray sulks, “but I don’t see why she’s so bothered by that bloodsucker.”
“Because she loves him and he’s her fated mate,” Clare says as if explaining to a difficult child.
“She’s not going anywhere until she’s recovered from that lightning strike,” Beaufort says and all my friends nod in agreement. There is no way I’ll be persuading them otherwise.
Chapter Seven
Thorne
Now we’ve come to some kind of agreement about the Fox situation, Briony’s next concern is the dragon. She doesn’t like the idea of him out there on the academy field by himself and is determined to go check on him.
“I’ll do it,” I tell her. “You need to rest.”
“I’m fine, Thorne,” she responds with a roll of her eyes. “Beaufort healed me, remember?”
“Yes. And Beaufort says you’re not 100% better yet.”
She goes to argue again, but I cut right across her. “You want to help Fox, don’t you? Then the sooner you’re properly healed, the better. Stay here and rest, Nini. I’ll go check on Blaze.”
Reluctantly, she agrees, and I leave her chatting with her friends in the warm kitchen, each of them nursing a mug of cocoa.
The relentless rain that battered the academy earlier has petered to a mere drizzle and the storm clouds have rolled away. I step out into the damp, my hair and my face wet in a matter of minutes. Usually the pathways and entrance ways to the towerswould be bustling with students right after the completion of a trial. Snow, rain, and wind would not deter them. But this afternoon, the pathways are eerily empty. I suspect that’s because most of the academy is out on the field admiring a dragon; a creature not seen for hundreds of years, a creature many, I suspect, would have considered fictional.
But I realize this assumption is incorrect when the first pair of guards march past me on the pathway – Onyx guards dressed in their purple uniforms and black caps. They know who I am; everyone in Onyx does. And they nod at me wordlessly and continue on their way. I spin around, watching them go, wondering what the hell they’re doing here.
These aren’t members of the Empress’s elite guards. These are soldiers. I’ve never seen soldiers at the academy before, not even at the trials. I’ve never heard of them being sent to the academy before either. Perhaps the Empress brought them after all. Perhaps they’re on their way back. But I realize this assumption is incorrect too when I pass another group of soldiers, three this time, and then another two pairs as I weave my way through the academy. This must be because of what happened today – Bardin escaping and demons infiltrating deep within our realm. That’s the only explanation I can come up with. But an unease finds its way into my stomach anyway. Soldiers at the academy. It’s unprecedented.
The great golden dragon still stands on the wet field when I finally reach it. But the crowd of admiring students Beaufort said was lingering there earlier has dispersed. Now there’s a handful of teachers and a ring of soldiers. I spot one of the Titan twins near the pathway. He’s still dressed in the clothes he was wearing for the trial, his whistle hanging around his neck, although there’s no sign of his clipboard.
“What’s going on?” I ask him.
He drags his eyes from the dragon. I’ve never considered the man intelligent. He often looks baffled and bewildered by life despite his arrogant persona. Tonight, though, there’s even more confusion in his eyes.
“They say the deputy headmistress has fled the realm,” he says. “And that girl from Slate...” He jolts in realization. “Your thrall – can wield light and ride that dragon.” His head swings back towards the creature and he points its way. “Is it real?” he asks me.
“It’s real,” I say.
“Where did it come from?” he asks me.
“It’s a long story,” I explain. “Why are the soldiers here?”
“Sent by the palace,” he explains, “to retain order.” He sniffs. “As if we can’t control our own students.”
