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Chapter Forty

B riony

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 is there 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?

I snap my gaze back to the little dragon and run his way, leaping over logs and ducking under branches.

When I reach him, he leaps up at my face to lick me and spins somersaults in front of my eyes, panting with excitement .

The footsteps are louder now, pounding the ground. Many of them running in my direction.

I have a split-second decision to make.

“Blaze,” I say, “you need to fly away and hide.” The little dragon stares at me with his big round golden eyes.

“Blaze!” I say, with more urgency, “you need to go hide.” I push at him but he doesn’t move, just hovers in place.

“Blaze!” I snap more aggressively, making him flinch away from me.

“You need to go hide NOW! I’ll come find you later I promise. GO!” I yell.

The little dragon dips his head and whines pathetically.

“It’s for your own good,” I tell him. I try to push at him again but all that achieves is the little dragon licking at my hands.

Real fear bubbles in my gut. I don’t know if these people mean me harm – although I strongly suspect they do – but, regardless, if they find Blaze I don’t know what will happen to him – except that he’ll most definitely be snatched from my care.

“Please, Blaze,” I beg, “please just go! Go hide!”

I point my hand out towards the forest.

He looks at me again with a big soggy, clueless grin on his face. Should I snatch him from the air and hide him in my coat?

But whoever is coming would find him before I’d even buttoned up my coat.

Desperately, I scrabble at my feet, finding a stick and two big stones.

“Blaze,” I say, “I don’t want you here. Go away! Go away now!”

I throw a stone in his direction. He dodges it, panting like this is the best game ever. But I throw the second one in quick succession and the stick right after. The second stone hits him smack in the chest and the stick whacks one of his wings.

He whimpers, then whines again, looking at me like he doesn’t understand.

I pick up another handful of stones, lifting them to my shoulder in a threatening manner. “Go on, get!” I yell, in an aggressive voice.

He blinks at me, his eyes full of a sadness that makes my heart crack.

Then, as the torch swings through the air and the ground beneath my feet seems to shake, Blaze spins in the air and darts off through the trees.

I watch him go until he’s out of sight, trying to memorize the direction, praying he’ll stay hidden, praying even harder he knows that I love him, that I didn’t mean to hurt him.

There’s no time for me to run now, I reach for my pocket and the collar, but I’m not wearing my skirt. I don’t have it with me.

I am going to have to stand my ground and face whoever is coming. And I’m going to have to do it alone.

I turn slowly around as the pounding footsteps slow and the torch burns right into my face.

I hold my hand up, trying to shield my eyes and see who is there, but it’s no use. I’m blinded and they are hidden in the darkness.

“Who’s there?” I call out, clutching the handful of stones – my only weapon. “And what do you want?”

“What we want, Slate scum,” says a muffled voice, “is to teach you a lesson.”

“Is that wise?” I say, trying to calm my voice and keep my face neutral. “The Princes have said that if anyone–”

I don’t finish my words. Something large and heavy swings through the air. I catch sight of it too late, no time to duck or jump away or even throw my stones. It smacks me across the side of the skull and I tumble straight down onto the floor, the world spinning and my skull screaming with pain.

There’s no time to catch my breath before the blows and the kicks start.

The torch shines in my eyes, blinding me completely, and I have no warning of where they are coming from or when.

All I can do is curl myself up into a ball, wrap my arms around my head, and attempt to protect myself from the worst of it.

I’m kicked in the stomach, punched in the ribs. Someone spits in my face and another stamps on my head.

The pain is sharp and brutal and I dissociate, removing myself from this world and this pain and accepting the darkness with open arms.