No word came out of Lory’s mouth as he glared at her, expectant of she didn’t know what, and a small voice at the back of her mind agreed with the ruthless captain who delivered ashlings to kill at breakfast, who hunted street rats and saved them from execution, and who obviously had some stakes in her survival or he would have already killed her, not risking to let live another disloyal magic wielder. But she was here, and she was alive, and as long as she had a breath in her, she could ask questions. Perhaps truth would be the best weapon of all.
“At the brig, before my trial…” She wiped a strand of hair out of her face, dropping both hands to her sides as she tried to figure out if Khay Falcrest would be the end of her. “Anees was there to test me, wasn’t she? She tried to lure information out of me after you interrogated me.”
Falcrest clicked his tongue in reprimand. “If you believe that was a real interrogation, you are not only uneducated; you are naïve.”
Disregarding his comment, Lory continued, “You sent her there to figure out if I was worth putting into Ashthorn Ward.” She remembered how Falcrest had appeared at the last possible moment, just before the execution was stopped.
Falcrest didn’t deny it. “Whether you’reworthanything, we’ll learn soon enough when your magic manifests. If you manage to survive ’til then, we’ll see.”
With those words, he stepped back, making way for Lory to flee, and it took effort to tear her gaze away from his harsh expression, the wind-torn hair, and muscled torso as he gestured toward the end of the balcony where a wooden door led directly to the dormitories.
“After you,” he said with his familiar smirk plastered back onto his features, and when Lory didn’t move, he amended, “I can ask you nicely, but if you don’t comply, I can always make you.”
Lory didn’t wait to find out what he meant by that; she merely balled her hand into a fist and held it up between them. “And I can always show you what my hand can do.” She didn’t bother to keep the innuendo out of her tone, watching with fear and delight as Falcrest’s smirk turned into a grin.
“There’s my Gutter Gem,” he purred, and Lory almost choked on her breath as Falcrest leaned in, whispering, “I was hoping our first time would be in a more private setting, but if you must: I like it slow and hard.”
A stroke of heat licked over her knuckles like invisible fingers as the captain turned on his heels and headed for the door, still shirtless, still impossibly gorgeous, and still the most dangerous creature in the academy.
Ten
A week later,Falcrest was sitting in his usual spot at breakfast after two more ashlings were executed for not appearing for breakfast on time. That rounded the number of ashlings lost that week up to fifteen, all of them in purple, green, and yellow.
“They say the captain killed two of them himself,” Jarek announced as Lory sat down with her food-laden plate a few minutes after the bodies had been cleared off the platform at the front of the room, her stomach squeamish from the sight of so much unjustified death. “You know, the ones who tried to escape.”
“It’s a rumor,” Brycon reminded them from the other side. “Why would anyone flee from Ashthorn when there is no comparable education in Brestolya?”
“Comparableis putting it nicely,” Thal noted with a half-grin. “None as brutal or as thorough is more like it.”
Brycon shrugged, his attention wandering to the green table where Ricca was chatting with Solen Markis. Solen’s head was freshly shorn at the sides, and their hair was neatly braided in their usual fashion from forehead to neck. Neither of them seemed to be mourning the loss of their fellow yellows.
“Do you think they are plotting Lory’s death again?” Tabi wanted to know between bites of scrambled eggs. “Or Frost’s?”
Frost’s eyes found Lory’s at the mention of his name, and for a moment, she felt sorry for him—then, she remembered that Anees had called him a murderer.
Over three weeks at the academy, and she barely knew anything about the young man who’d ended up here the same way she had. A criminal.
“At least, I’ve got some actual magic.” Frost bared his teeth in a grin that didn’t meet his eyes, gaze wandering from Lory to Thal and back to Lory.
“Hey, I have at leastsensedwater.” Thal voiced mock outrage, as surprised as the rest of the group that Frost had volunteered anything. “And when I manage to tame my endless well of power, we could work together. I make missiles out of water; you freeze them over. What do you say?”
When Frost grinned this time, it was real, even if only for a fraction of a moment.
“What about you, Lory? Any developments?” Tabi’s attention wasn’t on Lory, however, but on the platform at thefront of the room, on the table to the right, under the horned and winged leonthor, where Falcrest was sipping from his cup, gaze idly drifting through the room.
“Nothing new. Not a flicker of power.” It was a small consolation that they had been allowed daggers in combat training, and she’d finally excelled in something when they were supposed to disarm an opponent in the training ring. A moment, Lory remembered with no short amount of satisfaction, that Falcrest had witnessed, and even now, she could vividly see the hint of surprise on his features. A street rat, yes, but she’d learned to survive long before she’d ever come to Ashthorn.
“Doesn’t matter what sort of power you have; it better show today in Dunveil’s class.” Tabi frowned at her. “He’s been waiting for a reason to eliminate more ashlings.”
Both Thal and Lory shook their heads. “Not today,” Thal announced. “We have combat training with Hand Sil, and if I have anything to say about it, I’ll end up in the infirmary so I can skip Dunveil.”
“Coward,” Jarek huffed over a slice of bread while Frost, Brycon, and Tabi stared at Thal like he’d grown a second head.
“You don’t believe they’ll let you skip Knowledge, especially when Dunveil is eager for blood.” Lory had entertained the idea of missing Dunveil’s classes herself, but she’d come to the same conclusion every single time: If she failed, she’d die, and she wouldn’t randomly pick up on what potential powers she possessed by hiding in a dark corner. Her best chance at survival was learning the rules, knowing them well enough to bend them—and eventually break them. Falcrestmay be able to trap her here, but there was no way he would break her. None of them would—especially not Ricca Graccia and her group of self-righteous ashlings who had tried to kill Frost and her.
“I believe that, sometimes, a healthy stomach ache is all it takes.” The knowing grin on Thal’s face was almost credible.
Tabi studied him with a raised brow. “If you continue shoveling food into your face like that, you will get your stomach ache for sure.”
