“We’ll just have to make our own fun,” Clary said with a little too much enthusiasm.
I stifled a groan. It was going to be a long weekend.
CHAPTER 20
Pipers: Rare breed of Horrors known to occupy the marshlands of Nightsbridge. They lure their prey with high frequency sound waves, then incapacitate them with a neurotoxin so that they may consume them alive.
THE COMPENDIUM OF HORRORS
The storm did indeed last all weekend. But time passed quickly, mainly because the Unwoven were so determined to make my first weekend at Nightsbridge fun. I wasn’t used to spending so much leisure time with people, and I expected to hate it, but…it wasn’t so bad.
Monday dawned bright and clear, as if the storm had been nothing but a dream. I’d have been more excited to get out of the tower if my first class hadn’t been Combat 101 with Sterling Damascus.
The only good news was that the swelling in my hand had all but disappeared. I could even move my fingers. My gut warned me to keep this information to myself. Rapid healing wasn’t normal for an Arcanus. Fel, it had never been normal for me either. But being on Nightsbridge soil was changing me in ways I didn’t understand. Until I figured it out, I’d keep schtum.
I doubted an injury would prevent Sterling from putting me through my paces. I’d hoped for a little more time to wrestle my emotions into the neat little boxes I’d learned to house them in before facing him again. Boxes labeledanxiety, rage, andmurderous intentions. The murderous intentions box was the largest because it housed all the ways I’d imagined ending his life.
One day soon, I’d unpack that box and pick a method. Or maybe two or three to make it interesting.
The training grounds were on the other side of the barracks, and beyond that were some pretty gardens, not that I’d had the chance to explore them yet. But as we rounded the barracks tower, I spotted a guy standing by the gated entrance. He clutched a book to his chest, looking wistfully in our direction.
I raised a hand in greeting, and he blinked sharply before tentatively lifting his hand in return. His attention shifted to Dori, who was walking ahead of me. He waved, but she didn’t notice.
“Hey, Dori, there’s a guy waving at you over… Oh, he’s gone.”
“What did he look like?” she asked.
“Messy, blond hair and glasses. Tall, I guess.”
She shook her head. “No idea who that is.”
The clang of wood on wood grew louder as we crossed the running track that surrounded the oval training area. It contained an obstacle course and an area for combat, which was taking place right now as paired-up students clashed with wooden swords and fists.
“If they pair me with that sadistic turd Tyler, I will break his teeth,” Dori said.
“Who’s Tyler?”
“A Damascus,” Clary provided. “Thinks he’s untouchable because his brother is a hunt leader.”
Sterling had a brother? Interesting. And there he was, the bastard himself, standing with his back to us, arms crossed, assessing his students.
As we approached, he turned his head, zeroing in on me with his eerie pale-blue eyes that I was certain would look better on the end of toothpicks. I’d scoop them out of his head first, of course, careful not to damage them, while I reveled in his agonized screams.
Oh, and there it was—the lip curl, the nostril flare—as if he was looking at a pile of shit.
I gritted my teeth, keeping my expression neutral.
“He looks pissed,” Benedict muttered.
“Nothing new,” Clary said through the smile fixed on her face.
“Someone get him a blood bag.” Dori didn’t bother to lower her tone.
Sterling’s brow lifted slightly.
“I think he heard you,” Clary whisper-hissed.
“Like I give a shit.” Dori shrugged.
