His lips twitched into an amused smirk. “Thirty-one, yes.”
“Daryl told me,” I added so itdidn’t seem too invasive of an observation. “He said we were only nine years apart.”
Fates, why did I tell him that?
“That’s very true.” He nodded, still smirking. “We’re quite close in age.”
“Um, what happened to Amy?” I stood up and adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder.
His smile faded, but his gaze on mine never strayed. “Humans. It happened before the war,” he added in a strained voice.
“Oh.” My heart hurt for Daryl. “Were they mates?”
“That’s your father’s story to tell. I’ve said too much.” He winced as if realizing he probably shouldn’t have said anything to me. “Best not bring Amy up unless he does.”
“Of course,” I agreed.
I couldn’t imagine the pain Daryl must’ve been in. To lose a fated mate can drive anyone insane, but Daryl didn’t seem crazy. He did, however, seem sad. I’d caught him staring off into space quite often with a faraway look in his eyes.
“Most of your classes are in Reform Hall, the building we’re in. Let me show you the rooms,” he suggested smoothly.
“That would be great,” I mumbled as he strode forward, leading the way out of his office.
He took me to each classroom in Reform Hall I would attend starting tomorrow, and eventhough they were all on the first floor, it was an enormous building with four long halls. It should’ve been overwhelming for me, but anything was better than the four confining walls of the cellar.
I shivered at the thought, wrapping my arms around myself as we walked out of the building and into the sweltering heat.
“The academy’s program is a year long,” he explained, slowing his pace for me to keep up. The sand shifted underfoot with each step. “There are four terms in all, and each one lasts three months.”
“Daryl explained that to me,” I said softly. “It seems fast-paced.”
“It is,” he agreed. “But demons have an impeccable adaptation skill.”
There was a dark stone altar rising from the desert floor off closer toward the middle of campus. At the center of the altar was a full red scale, shimmering with an iridescent sheen that shifted and danced as the sun hit it. Magical energy pulsated from it, rippling the air and thrumming over my skin.
“What’s that?” I asked, studying the blood magic circle around the base of it. Symbols and sigils were etched into the sand, glowing faintly in a dark red. “Are those protection symbols?”
“Yes. That’s Cryptic Altar,” he explained. “There’s a drake scale within it. It’s the source of the wards that protect the academy from outside threats.”
“Threats?”
“All academies have a ward.” He ran a hand through his dark blond locks. “It’s not unique to this campus. We’re in no way more likely to be attacked than any other academy. If any academy was more likely to be attacked, it’d be Blezen Academy.”
“Do some still harbor ill feelings for Blezen due to the war?” I asked, sliding my gaze toward him.
His white eyes slid to meet mine. “Blezen has come a long way, apparently, but yes. There are many supernaturals who still blame the dragons and drakes who live there, and there are just as many supernaturals who still fear the territory itself.“
“Is that why Blezen Academy is a possible target?”
He set his lips in a grim line, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “Roak’s remains are underneath it.”
My brows shot up in surprise. The leader of the dragon cult during the war had been buried under an academy?
I rolled my lips together to prevent myself from asking more questions. I found everythingabout that war fascinating because of the book I’d read, but the history of Kalista’s Second War was enough to keep me interested. But surely, Hunter didn’t want to talk to me about Kalista’s history.
“Rest assured, though,” he said. “This academy is as safe as one can be in the Demon Capital.”
Because of a demon’s predatory nature, I supposed.
