Page 31

Chapter Twenty-Seven

B riony

I haven’t spoken to the Madame since our altercation in the maze. She was at the ball but apart from that I haven’t seen her around the academy the last few days.

Deep in my heart, I’ve been praying to all the stars that she’d left the academy, so ashamed by what happened, so frightened I’d report her, so bound by Thorne’s magic, she’d scarpered. But even deeper down in my heart, I know I won’t be that lucky.

When have any of the abusers in my life ‘come to their senses’ or voluntarily left my life? None. Exactly, none.

And so, as I approach her classroom and hear her sultry voice meandering down the hallway, I’m not surprised at all, although I am nervous. All that angry energy has burned away and now I’m just plain scared.

What if Madame smells lizard on me too? What if Madame realizes it’s not lizard, it’s dragon? What if she isn’t done with me? What if, like Thorne, she has no problem breaking the sacred promise?

I hover outside the classroom door, gripping the handle, and attempt to steady my nerves.

I just came from yelling at Professor Fox and theoretically he’s a lot more scary than Madame.

Inhaling, I push down on the handle and step inside the classroom.

Madame’s kohl-lined eyes snap to me, then away and she continues issuing instructions about a potion without acknowledging me at all.

I search for a spare seat and am somewhat relieved to find Dray’s in the class as usual. I don’t think Madame would try anything with him here.

I’m less pleased to find him signaling toward an empty chair he’s saved next to his. This puts me right in the front row and right in Madame’s firing line. However, there are no other seats so I don’t have a choice but to take the one offered.

I tiptoe across the classroom as quietly as I can, even though everyone is watching me, and slide into my seat. Almost immediately, cauldrons, implements and ingredients appear on the desk in front of me.

Madame claps her hands.

“Begin,” she says.

I look down helplessly at the collection of objects. I have no clue whatsoever what we’re meant to be doing.

“And remember, anyone who fails to complete this task will be staying behind for detention.”

Madame smiles, her red lips stretched wide and I’m sure that smile is aimed like a weapon at me. The last thing I want to do is spend a detention with Madame. Firstly, because I have a hungry baby dragon to feed. Secondly, she might kill me.

Dray bumps his elbow against me.

“We’re turning lead into gold,” he says.

“I thought that was illegal,” I mutter.

“Is it?” he says with a wink. “You need to start by dousing your piece of lead in bat’s piss.”

“Ewww.” I scrunch up my nose. “That is gross”

“It’s actually a delicacy,” he says, chewing his gum. His eyes flick down my form. “Just like someone else I know. You know your pussy should be considered the most precious delicacy–”

“Can we get back to the lead and the piss?” I say, peering over my shoulder at Madame who I am sure is listening in.

“The bat’s piss smells pretty good, although freaking strong.” Dray lifts up a stoppered bottle on his desk and holds it up to the light. He takes a deep inhale. “Yeah, it’s nice.”

I sniff too, but I don’t have his wolfish olfactory skills and I can’t smell a thing. However, I’m guessing the bat’s piss is hiding any scent of dragon that may be lingering on my skin. A good thing. I don’t need Dray interrogating me in front of the Madame.

“Mr. Eros,” the Madame calls, from where she is rearranging her case of cigarettes as she perches on her desk, legs crossed, feet dangling and quite a bit of thigh showing. “I’m sure Miss Storm can do this without your help.”

“Bet she can,” he says, all smoldering eyes and good looks, “but I just can’t stop myself from helping others,” he rests his hand on his chest, “it’s like an addiction.”

“Then rein that addiction in. Students should be working alone,” she says, a little more frostily .

“I wish I could,” he says earnestly, “honestly, I really wish I could. But it’s impossible. Plus she’s our thrall,” I frown, “so the compulsion is even stronger.”

He smiles at Madame and to everyone else the smile probably seems perfectly sweet. I can see there’s something sinister about it, though. A warning for Madame not to interfere.

The Deputy Head uncrosses and recrosses her legs. Then mutters, “Very well.”

“Was that wise?” I whisper to him a few minutes later as he’s helping me to boil my bat’s piss with his magic. “Madame is in charge of the academy.”

“Yeah, but not the fucking realm, Kitten.” He laughs, like I’m being delightfully stupid.

I don’t entirely understand his meaning. Dray doesn’t know about Thorne helping me in the maze. He doesn’t know Thorne stopped and restrained Madame Bardin. He also doesn’t know it was Madame who attacked me.

As well as soaking the tiny piece of lead in bat’s piss, we’re also required to add a collection of equally delightful ingredients.

Wild boar toenails, frog’s intestines and rat balls.

Each is more revolting than the last and nearly everyone is dry-heaving into their fists by the time we come to the final ingredient.

A pinch of sprite dust.

When we get to this point, Madame unlocks a well-secured cupboard at the back of the classroom, and then a heavy metal box. She extracts a small white marble pot, its lid fixed by a golden hinge. On the top of the lid is painted a tiny dancing creature.

Madame walks around the desks, adding a pinch of the sparkling pink dust into each potion as she does.

“Can’t we do it ourselves?” the shadow weaver Ashleigh asks from the front row, obviously expecting the Madame to submit to them.

“No,” the Madame says sternly, “this pinch of powder is worth more than I’m sure most of the Slate students’ families earn in a year.” She smirks at me. “In fact, it’s utterly priceless. The only people that own such dust are me – for teaching purposes of course – and the Empress herself.”

Madame continues weaving her way around the desks; when she reaches the front row where the shadow weavers are sitting, she’s more generous with her pinch.

Except for me. She goes to pinch her fingers into the marble pot, lifting her hand and releasing her fingers over my potion. Nothing falls from her grip.

“That didn’t work,” I point out. She’s already moved on to the next potion. Bet she did that deliberately. I’m certain of it. “Madame Bardin, nothing sprinkled into my potion.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she dismisses. “Of course it did. Everyone saw me sprinkle dust into your potion. There’s no need to be greedy, Miss Storm.”

“I’m not,” I insist. “Nothing fell into my pot.”

“Surely, you could give her just a tad more,” Dray says, with a characteristically charming smile, “just to be sure.”

“Certainly not,” Madame says, snapping shut the lid. “This dust is precious and can not be wasted just because some silly girl isn’t observant enough.”

A couple of the shadow weavers giggle, although they stop when Dray swings his dangerous gaze their way. He pushes his chair backwards and lumbers to his feet. Casually, he strolls towards Madame Bardin, blowing a bubble with his gum as he does. When he reaches her, the bubble pops with a bang.

She doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t look happy, but she also doesn’t look intimidated .

“I will personally ensure that the additional sprite dust is replaced,” he says, holding out his hand, palm side up.

“And how will you do that?” the Madame says, lips curling into a seductive smile.

“I will ask the Empress personally to replace it from her own collection.”

A hush full of tension falls across the classroom.

The Empress? How the hell can Dray promise something like that?

The smile on the Madame’s face twitches but she holds it there and places the pot into Dray’s hand.

I watch, gobsmacked, as he strolls back to my desk, opens the pot and dumps a pinch of pink dust into my potion.

“There you go, Kitten,” he says with a wink, before tossing the pot over his shoulder.

The classroom takes a collective gasp as the delicate pot sails high towards the ceiling, everyone half-expecting for the lip to flip open and sprite dust to spatter everywhere.

However, Madame Bardin moves with unexpected speed and grabs the pot in mid flight.

One boy in the back row claps but stops pretty abruptly when Madame snaps, “Back to work!”

Fifteen minutes later, we’re draining the potion and fishing out the tiny pieces of lead resting at the bottom of our cauldrons.

I gasp when I hook my piece out. It’s only the size of my thumbnail but, where moments ago, it was dull and gray, now it shines a golden color between my fingers.

“It worked!” I say, amazed. “It actually worked.”

“Some magic doesn’t require powers, Kitten,” Dray says beside me, pocketing his own piece of gold – at least three times the size of mine. “Like orgasms for instance. Like the ability I have to wring a pretty awesome orgasm from your pussy with my tongue–”

But I’m not really listening to him. I’m too busy staring at my piece of gold with wonderment.

I did it. I actually did it.

As I swing my gaze around the room, I realize I’m the only commoner who has succeeded, which means Dray probably helped me out.

For once, I don’t care. This means no detention with Madame Bardin.

Which, as well as being really freaking satisfying, is also a massive relief, because I have what I expect is one truly hungry baby dragon waiting for me in my room.