Page 108 of Spark of Sorcery

Chapter Forty

Briony

There’s an eerie atmosphere about the academy the day before the missing shadow weavers are due to return. An anticipation mixed with fear.

People seem less talkative, less willing to raise their hand in class. They keep their heads down and hurry along the pathways, hugging their books tightly to them.

“Is it me?” I ask Fly, as we walk to history class, “or is everyone acting dead strange?”

“The next trial is in a couple of weeks. Probably nerves kicking in.”

Except I don’t remember everyone acting so strangely before the last trial. Then again, I was wrapped up in my own preparation and the stuff going on with the Princes. I wasn’t at my most observant.

Today, I can’t help but be. Is it my imagination or isthere more whispering than usual? Are more people glancing my way?

That could be down to the Princes returning tomorrow. I remain a key piece of gossip on campus even if nothing is actually going on in my life to warrant it – or nothing that they know of anyway.

I fidget on my seat. Am I wrong? Do people know about Blaze? Have I been careless? Is this what the whispering is about?

At dinner, I catch Odessa herself staring my way. When our eyes meet, she gives me a sinister smile. Despite myself, a shiver of fear transcends my spine. She did nearly kill me after all and stabbed me in the hand. The girl is psychotic. Has she started to spread that fake rumor after all?

She turns back to her friends. Automatically, I reach for the collar residing in my pocket. I haven’t removed it and I finger it now. Then yank my hand out of my pocket. I am being ridiculous.

Although I can’t shake this unsettling feeling or the idea that Odessa’s smile was a message, a warning of some kind.

Even Blaze greeting me with enthusiasm and licking at my face can’t dispel the feeling, and as I walk with him hidden in my coat out to the forest later that evening, I peer over my shoulder several times, just to check I’m not being followed.

Under the trees and far from campus, I relax a little, my heart full as I watch him zoom joyfully through the trees.

He’s becoming a better and more proficient flier – faster and more precise. His hunting skills have improved too – he yanks roosting birds from the branches, rabbits from their burrows and even takes down an owl in mid-flight. On occasion, he’s also spewing lungfuls of fire, shrieking through the trees like a bolt of lightning.

He comes swooping back to me now, dive bombing me three times to slurp his tongue up my cheeks before shooting off again.

“Thanks, Blaze,” I laugh, “I love you too.”

As I say the words, I realize how over-brimming my heart feels, how happy I am.

I thought coming to this academy would be hell itself – far worse than the abuse, torture and loneliness at home.

But I’ve been proved wrong. I have friends. Three men who want me. And a freaking pet dragon. The classes may be tough, the training brutal, the trials potentially life-threatening – but this is still the happiest I’ve been in years.

I search the debris by my feet and find a small stick.

“Hey, Blaze,” I call, grabbing his attention. Then I throw the stick through the trees and the little dragon darts after it, making me laugh again.

It’s as my laughter dies away and the little dragon wrestles the stick on the ground as if it were a wild cat, that I hear it.

Footsteps. Voices.

It’s faint, but I spin around and peer through the trees.

Squinting in the darkness, I see the flash of a flashlight and movement. Movement that seems to be coming this way and quickly.

Then that same torch flashes up into my face, blinding me for a second.

“She’s over here,” a voice cries out.

What the hell?