Page 57 of Taste of Thorns (The Firestone Academy #3)

Chapter Fifty-Three

B eaufort

She’s no longer in the academy grounds. In fact, the connection between us is weak which suggests she’s far away. In the Highlands? Or by the lake?

“You wait here for Dray,” I tell Thorne. “I’m going to find the professor.”

“That wasn’t the plan,” he says. “And he’s probably already left for the lake.”

“Yeah, but things have changed. He may not have left yet and I need to let him know.” I scrub my hand through my hair and set off at a sprint back towards where the other students are waiting to be called up and the spectators are seated in the stand.

As I near that part of the field, I can see it’s still full of students.

Only the shadow weavers and a handful of students from Iron and Granite are missing.

Although the newly formed connection tells me Briony isn’t among the waiting students, I scan the faces in the Slate group anyway.

I spot her asshole of an ex-boyfriend. Briony isn’t there.

A couple of students spy me in return and I can see them nudging their friends and whispering into each other’s ears.

Unlike Briony, that’s never bothered me before. It’s not like I haven’t put up with that throughout my life. People know who I am. Some even know who I’m connected to. They’ve always talked about me.

This morning, though, it pisses me off. These kids are about to face another deadly trial.

Okay, it was fucking easy for me and Thorne.

But if you don’t have shadow magic to light your way through the cavernous tunnel, you could be lost in the mountains forever.

If you don’t have shadow magic to protect you from a thousand-odd screech-bats, you’re going to end up in the clinic.

Perhaps these kids should be worrying about that and not about me.

I snap my gaze away from them and towards the stand where I’m headed.

All the teachers, except the Madame (who has a seat next to the Empress) and the Titan twins (who are coordinating the trial), have seats to the left in the front few rows.

Professor Cornelius is there as well as the potions teacher and the languages teacher. Professor Tudor’s seat is empty.

Which means he’s already left for the lake as we arranged.

Which means if Briony has been sent to the Highlands like we were, Tudor won’t be there protecting her.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.

We should have thought about this. We should have found a way to communicate with each other if something went wrong. Why the hell didn’t we think of that?

I run my eyes over the front row of the spectators, towards the center. The Empress sits right in the middle on a throne. There are courtiers surrounding her as well as some of her elite guards. The Madame, however, is not there either.

“Shit!” I mutter more loudly, reaching the edge of the stand.

Of course, I knew Bardin would leave her seat. That’s what we predicted would happen. Briony is already tackling the trial. The Madame has gone to meet her. Which means there’s no stopping things now. With or without the professor, we’re going to have to go ahead with this plan.

I push my way along the front row in the direction of the Empress.

If I thought my presence back at the field had caused a stir among the students, it causes an even bigger one among the spectators.

I can hear them murmuring, a noise that grows louder as people are forced to stand or shuffle around to let me through.

Finally, I’m stopped by one of the Empress’ Elite Guards.

He holds a weapon in his hands and he uses it to block my path.

“I need to see the Empress,” I say. When he doesn’t shift or appear to register my words, I add, “It’s urgent realm business that she will want to hear.”

The commotion has caught the Empress’ attention as well. From behind the guard, she calls out in her crisp tone, “Let him through.”

The guard steps aside, eyes following me as I reach the Empress’ throne. It’s elevated above the other seats, and I’m forced to peer up and into her face.

There’s a displeased line hovering between her brows. One I know well.

“Beaufort,” she says, “you’re causing a scene. What is the meaning of this?”

“Mother,” I reply, meeting her steely gaze with one of my own, “I need to talk with you. Now!”