Page 112 of Storm of Shadows

“Anyway, what happened when Professor Doom and Gloom found you?” Fly says, interrupting my thoughts. “I thought the next time we saw you, you’d have no fingernails or something.”

“I don’t know yet. I have detention with him tonight.” Fly and Clare both shiver. “It can’t be any worse than hanging out with the Princes – or not hanging out with them more to the point.”

Both Clare and Fly look at me.

“They keep leaving me and going off to parties, remember?” I say, neglecting to remind my friends about what happened when they returned.

Of course, I give myself away with a blush. Something Fly happily points out.

“I’m not blushing,” I insist. “It must be a hot flush. I just got my period.”

“Urgh,” Clare says. “That’s the worst.”

“Can we change the subject?” Fly says, lowering his voice.

“So we can talk about sex and blowjobs but not periods?” I tease.

“It’s just … I don’t …”

I laugh. Stopping when the twin professors come marching towards us with amusement on their faces. This probably won’t be good. Physical exercise is the last thing I feel like doing right now. The cramps have kicked in and all I want to do is curl up on my bed with a hot water bottle and my dog. None of those things are options though. My dog is hundreds of miles away, I don’t have a hot water bottle and I’ve already cut class once today andwill be suffering the consequences later. I also doubt a note from the nurse will cut it. I think you could lose a limb and be gushing blood from an open wound and they’d still have you undertaking drills.

The drills today are especially evil. If it was running around the grounds again, I’d probably be okay. Instead, it’s circuits – sit-ups, press ups, burpees – the lot.

Of course, the shadow weavers and the Iron Quarter kids find the whole thing a breeze – even Fly seems to be coping all right. I, and most of the other kids from Slate and Granite Quarters, are not. My entire body screams with pain, my lungs burn and I want to die.

“Come on, you lazy fucks,” one of the twins screams obnoxiously close to my ear, “move your butts. You’re not even trying.”

I yank myself up for another sit up, peering through my knees at the group of students that are finding this incredibly easy. Stanley is among them, of course, smiling and laughing as he does a series of press-ups one handed. I wish I had shadow weaver abilities because I’d use them to kick out the supporting arm and have him landing flat on his face. I smile to myself at the picture in my mind.

“If you’re smiling, you’re not working hard enough,” the twin yells at me. “Come on, Madame Bardin is convinced there’s Iron material among some of you weaklings – we’ve only got to get you trained.”

Despite my ability to run fast, I know I don’t have what it takes to be assigned Iron Quarter. I can’t lift anything more than a couple of pounds. I can’t jump over rocks. I definitely can’t wrestle guys twice my size to the ground. This is a waste of time and is only going to result in more aches and pains.

Past Stanley and his new friends in Iron Quarter are the shadow weavers. Most of the girls aren’t even trying – theyhaven’t broken sweat and are gathered around gossiping. I note they aren’t being shouted at. Among them are the Smyte twins – Henrietta and Lynette – both looking innocent, like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths – and not like they tried to kill me this weekend.

The boys, as well as one or two of the girls, however, are showing they are just as fit and just as strong as the kids from Iron Quarter. Probably because their diet has been considerably better than ours.

I spy Dray in among a group of shadow weavers, laughing as he works at sit-ups. I watch him snap up his body and peer over his knees, meeting my gaze immediately. He grins and winks at me and I roll back down to lie on the grass and stare up at the sky. When I drag my body up for another sit up, Dray isn’t looking my way anymore and I spot Beaufort off to his side, concentrating as he lifts weights that look like boulders above his head.

Thorne isn’t with them and it takes me a while until I find him further out on the field, running sprints backwards and forwards, driving his body, his focus intense.

I roll back down again, my body tingling with that sensation from Saturday.

Desire?

I can’t deny the three men are attractive. Especially when they’re all hot and sweaty and looking impressive as hell.

But I don’t want to feel desire for them. I don’t want to feel anything but hate.

I grit my teeth and snap back up, three more times to complete the set and move on to a round of star jumps.

I doubt I look impressive. I suspect I look like a woman close to death. Flushed and messy and smelly. I glance at the shadow weaver girls with bitterness. Not a hair out of place, not a single bead of sweat broken.

Finally, when twin one blows his whistle and tells us we’re done, I collapse down on the grass and attempt to catch my breath.

Clare hunches over her knees and peers down at me. She’s bright red, and panting fast.

“You … coming … changing room,” she huffs out. I shake my head. I won’t be risking those changing rooms ever again. “Then … see … you … canteen.”