by Chris Cannon
The security guard scanned the paper. “There’s a first time for everything.” He pressed a code into the numbered pad on the side of the gate. It swung open on silent hinges. “Best get inside. It’s late.”
Bryn stepped onto the school grounds and examined the campus that would be her new home. Something about this place was off. Old-fashioned streetlamps lined the walkways, casting a haze of light. Imposing buildings, complete with statues of gargoyles, loomed against the night sky. Dark figures could be seen on stone balconies. Some stood on two legs, while others had wings.
Half a dozen buildings surrounded the large park they walked through. The landscaping was too perfect. It reminded her of the time she’d gone to Disneyland, where the bushes had been trimmed to resemble giraffes and lions. There wasn’t a stray leaf or weed anywhere. But this definitely wasn’t the happiest place on earth.
“This way.” Garret led them toward a building on the right. When they reached their destination, he held the door open for her. “Welcome to our dorm.”
As she stepped across the threshold, a sea of curious, hazel eyes met her gaze. She did a double take. Every single person had the same coloring as Garret. Same dark skin. Same brown hair.
And she was gawking. Clamping down on the anxiety attack she felt certain was coming on, she gave a tight smile. Her audience pointed and whispered. Not the friendliest greeting she’d ever received. At least they weren’t pelting her with textbooks.
“This is the main student lounge.” Garret gestured around the room.
Pool tables clustered at the far end of the lounge. Sets of forest green couches and tan, wing-backed chairs filled the rest of the impressive space. The overall effect was comfortable luxury.
Garret walked toward a wide marble staircase. “The first floor consists of the lounge and a small café. The second through the fourth floors are student rooms. Each floor has an alcove with vending machines. At this time, the second and third floors are occupied. The Institute closed off the fourth floor years ago.”
Had the dragon population dropped? Maybe later she’d ask. Right now, she was grateful there was one less flight of stairs to trudge up. With every step, her legs ached. “Doesn’t this place have an elevator?”
“You’re out of shape,” Zavien said.
“I’m not. My wing muscles were sore when we landed, and now it feels like I walked for miles. How can my legs hurt from flying?”
“That’s an interesting phenomenon.” Garret spoke rapid-fire. “Most dragons interpret wing fatigue as soreness in the lower extremities. For about ten percent of the population, it’s the upper extremities. We haven’t discovered why there’s a variance. Studies have shown the brain interprets fatigue from the dragon form and assigns it to the human body.”
“That’s fascinating.” Zavien rolled his eyes. “Maybe Bryn would like a more detailed report once she’s rested.”
Garret glared at Zavien and continued up the stairs.
On the third floor, the doors they walked past all had message boards, the kind you write on with a dry erase marker. Did those come standard with the room? Then they passed three blank doors in a row. Were the occupants too new to have decorated? Four more doors went by, and she became suspicious.
“Did you stick me at the end of the hall by myself?”
“We weren’t sure how social you’d want to be.”
Right. “Don’t you mean you weren’t sure who’d want to be social with me?”
Garret blushed.
“Did you know he planned on isolating me?” she asked Zavien.
“He wanted to put you on the fourth floor. This was an improvement.”
Bryn inhaled a measured amount of air, concentrated on the burning sensation in her stomach, and shot a small fireball at Garrett’s head. It stopped an inch from his nose, where it hung in midair for a moment before blinking out.
He jerked backward. “That was uncalled for.”
“You said you’d make me feel welcome. Treating me like I have the plague isn’t making me feel welcome.” Turning around, she retraced her steps back to the first blank door, next to one with a memo board. “I’ll take this one.”
“I don’t have the key for that room,” Garret said.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll wait while you get it.”
Muttering under his breath, Garret stalked off.
Zavien appeared to enjoy the situation. “Smart move on your part. They probably bugged the other room for research.”
“What?”
His lips twitched.
“You better be joking.”
A few minutes later, Garret came back and handed her a set of keys. “The first set is free. After that there’s a fee.” He turned back toward the steps before she could say good-bye.
Whatever. Bryn unlocked the door and stepped across the threshold, expecting to find a generic ten-by-ten room. What she found made her jaw drop.
Zavien moved around her and deposited her luggage to the left of the door. “I’ll give you a tour. All the dorm rooms have the same layout.” He gestured toward two roll-top desks set against opposite walls and the green velvet couch, tan chairs, and coffee table in the front room. “This is your study area and living room.”
She had a living room and real furniture that was nicer than what her parents had back in the apartment. Her gut twisted at the thought of home.
Trying to focus on the here and now, she admired the furniture. The desks were made of ornately carved and polished redwood. The matching wooden chairs appeared hard and uncomfortable. Looks like she’d be doing her homework on the couch.
Zavien opened a door and gestured for her to step through. Inside, Bryn discovered mirror image four-poster beds with cream-colored comforters. Tiffany lamps sat on nightstands on one side of each bed, and small writing desks sat on the other.
Identical dressers and armoires with mirrored doors flanked a large floor-to-ceiling window on the back wall. She ran her fingers over the beveled edge of the mirror. “This furniture is amazing.”
“It’s antique,” Zavien said. “The school’s been in existence for hundreds of years.” He pointed at the door on the right. “There’s your bathroom. It’s self-explanatory. The window between the armoires opens onto a terrace.” He pushed the window up and climbed out onto the terrace. “You can fly to your room in dragon form, shift, and come in the window.” The terrace ran the length of her bedroom and was almost as wide. “Now, I’ll leave you to explore and unpack. The new student meeting is at seven tomorrow morning in the dining hall.”
Maybe living here wouldn’t be so bad. It was like staying at a luxury hotel. “Thanks, for everything.”
“No problem. I’ll check in on you tomorrow.” He shifted and flew away.
Bryn made a quick call to her parents, just to let them know she’d arrived. Hearing their voices made her chest ache. After faking her way through a cheery good-bye, she made a mental note to email them from now on. She picked up the phone again to call Beth and decided to send an email instead. By the time she finished unpacking, she was ready to drop. After setting the alarm function on her laptop, she crawled into bed.
…
The sound of a piano worked its way into Bryn’s morning dream. It started out melodic. The volume increased, and the music became turbulent. Soon, minor chords crashed like waves in a storm. Heart racing, she jerked awake.
What in the hell was making that noise?
Stunned by the ever-increasing volume of the music, Bryn scanned the room to find its source. Was it coming from her dresser? Stumbling across the room, she discovered a black, wrought iron box with a single silver button on top. She smacked the button, and the audio assault stopped.
As her heartbeat fought to return to a normal rhythm, she picked up the box. On the bottom was an engraved message.
We encourage students to rise early and prepare for their day. Failure to turn the alarm off within the first minute will result in incr
easing volume and turbulence until the reset button is depressed.
“I hate the Directorate already.” A quick check of her laptop showed she’d planned on waking in fifteen minutes anyway. No use going back to bed now.
After a shower, she stared into her armoire. “What outfit says mess with me at your own risk?”
Wanting to appear confident, she chose a short, black skirt and a blouse with thick, red and black stripes. For fun, she added black streaks to her hair. The combination of strawberry blond, gold, and black stripes made her look like a rebel.
Time to attend breakfast orientation.
She’d rather eat spiders.
On the walk across campus, students gawked, pointed, and whispered. Her cheeks heated. By the time she reached the dining hall, her stomach growled loud enough for other people to hear. Embarrassed, she made a beeline for the buffet where she piled her plate with eggs, fruit, and muffins.
Coffee in hand, she checked out the tables. Where to sit? Not a single friendly face met her gaze. Fine. Eating alone wouldn’t kill her.
She picked an empty table off to the side and studied the other dragons. Some students sat with their families. Why were their parents invited when hers weren’t? Ferrin probably had something to do with that. Jerk.
A group of students loitering in one corner caught her attention. They behaved like old friends. One guy stood out. His tousled blond hair, bright blue eyes, and golden skin meant he was a Blue. It kind of sucked that each Clan had specific coloring. Not that she was trying to blend in, but still… She went back to watching the popular blond boy. Where Zavien seemed to work at projecting a bad boy image, the blond resembled an ad for the All-American Male. She could picture him walking along a California beach, carrying a surfboard.
He must be some sort of leader. People rotated around him, and girls were drawn to him. A tall, blond girl, who reminded Bryn of a Russian ballerina, stood frozen by his side. When other females paid attention to him, she’d reach over and take his hand. He’d allow her to hold his hand for a moment before he disengaged himself to run his fingers through his hair or straighten his tie.
Poor girl fought a losing battle.
“The buffet will close in thirty minutes,” a disembodied voice announced. Seeking comfort in food, Bryn decided to make another plate. The young man she’d watched was last in line, holding two plates.
“Hungry this morning?” she asked.
He seemed surprised she spoke to him. His manners must have kicked in because he said, “One is for my mother.”
“That’s nice. My mom wasn’t able to come.” More like she wasn’t allowed or invited. She grabbed a plate and followed behind him.
He seemed content to choose his food in silence. She hoped to make one acquaintance before classes started, and if he was influential, it wouldn’t hurt to have him on her side.
She tried again. “What did you think of the alarm this morning?”
He placed an apple on his plate. “Whoever invented that vile mechanism should be shot.”
“I think they should be forced to watch foreign art films, with subtitles, without popcorn.”
He smiled, and Bryn felt a ray of hope that things here might not be so bad. She smiled back and grabbed an orange as he moved down the buffet. He didn’t appear inclined to continue the conversation.
Hoping she didn’t seem pushy, she asked, “Do you know a lot of people here?”
Focusing his blue eyes on her with laser-like intensity, he seemed to question her sincerity. After an agonizing amount of time, he said, “I do. My father is quite involved in the Institute.”
“He should have warned you about the alarm.”
“Yes, he should have.” His smile radiated warmth.
She took a leap of faith and introduced herself. “My name is Bryn.”
The smile slid from his face. It was replaced by a look of disbelief and then utter loathing. “You’re Bryn McKenna?”
Struck mute by his change in demeanor, she could only nod.
“How dare you speak to me!” Grabbing his plates, he stalked off.
Chapter Eight
His reaction was like a knife in her gut. Bryn clutched the buffet table for support. Taking a steadying breath, she plastered a fake smile on her face and walked back to her table.
So much for making friends.
The plate clattered on the table as she sank into her chair. Fire burned her stomach. Closing her eyes, she visualized snow. The hot sensation in her stomach was replaced by a cold, dull ache.
The boy hated her. Truly, deeply loathed her. How was that possible?
She played with her food while she contemplated what this might mean. Nothing good. That was for certain.
The amplified crackle of the sound system caught her attention. A silver-haired man stood at a podium in the front of the room. He cleared his throat to gain the attention of those who still chatted among themselves.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to commence. Let me take this opportunity to welcome you. I’m sure you’re as thrilled to be here as we are to have you.”
Right. She resisted the urge to snort.
“We’ll start with introductions. Students, when your name is called, please stand. We’ll begin with the Blue Clan: Jaxon Westgate.”
The boy she’d tried making nice with stood to a polite round of applause. That explained his attitude. He was Ferrin’s evil spawn.
Jaxon appeared at ease being the center of attention. Several other Blue dragons stood when their names were called. Bryn fidgeted in her seat. What category would she be in?
When the speaker finished introducing the Red Clan and hadn’t mentioned her, she thought she might be introduced with the Green Clan.
No such luck.
The speaker moved on to the Black Clan and then the Orange Clan. There were only two students from the Orange clan, but they stared at the crowd in defiance. They had bronze skin and dark hair. At least there were two of them.
After the Orange dragons sat, the speaker sniffed like he smelled something rotten. “The last student on our list is Bryn McKenna.” He said her name with obvious distaste. “She’ll reside with the Green Clan during her time here.”
Squaring her shoulders, Bryn stood. People stared. The word “mongrel” and other, less flattering names came at her from all sides. It took great effort not to run from the room. She clenched her jaw and worked at keeping a polite smile on her face. When Jaxon glared at her, she refused to avert her gaze. Instead, she mocked him with a smirk.
“If all the students would please come forward, we’d like to take you on a tour of the campus.”
Bryn’s pulse spiked. This could be bad. Very bad. Torches and pitchforks bad. Fingernails digging into her palms, she joined the other students and waited to see who’d attack first.
A girl with wild black hair that stuck out in all directions approached Bryn. “Cool hair.”
“Thanks.” Reaching for something to say, Bryn pointed at the ivy tattoo wrapped around the girl’s arm. “Did that hurt?”
“It wasn’t bad.” The girl shrugged. “And it was the perfect choice.”
“Why?”
“My name’s Ivy.”
“Oh.” What could she say now? By her coloring, she guessed this girl was a Black dragon. “Do you know Zavien?”
“The guy with the spiked hair and the dragon tattoo?”
“That’s him,” Bryn said.
“He’s hot.” Ivy gave a slow grin. “I heard he does tattoos. I wonder if he’d do me?”
A guy with a black Mohawk and lightning tattoos on his forearms elbowed Ivy. “If he won’t, I will.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “Bryn, this is Clint, the blight of my life.”
“Hello.” Clint winked. “Ivy’s in love with me. She doesn’t know it yet.”
“Clint suffers from a personality impairment. He thinks all women lust after him.”
“Not all girls, just those with good taste.” C
lint slung his arm around Ivy’s shoulders. She let it stay for a moment before shrugging it off.
“Students, we’re starting the tour. Come this way.”
Bryn shuffled along with the crowd, listening to Ivy and Clint banter while she paid some attention to the tour. The campus didn’t seem difficult to understand. There were five student dorms in use. The tour leader hinted there used to be more.
After the dorms, they were shown the library, the auditorium, and several buildings devoted to different areas of study. It wasn’t until they entered the stadium that she was truly impressed. Four stories high and three football fields wide, the structure was massive. Obstacles sat on the ground and were suspended from the ceiling. She’d never seen anything like it.
“What do they play here?”
“You’ve never been to an agility trial?” Ivy asked.
Time to lay her cards on the table. “The whole banishment thing kind of got in the way of coming to sporting events.”
Clint gave a low whistle. “Your parents were really banished?”
Bryn nodded. “Besides Zavien and Garret, you’re the first dragons I’ve talked to.”
“That’s not true.” Ivy grinned. “You talked to Jaxon earlier.”
Fire spiked in her gut, and smoke drifted from her nostrils when she spoke. “If I’d have known who he was, I’d have steered clear.”
“His expression when he realized who you were was priceless.” Clint chuckled.
Bryn came to an abrupt halt. “It’s wrong for someone to hate you for something beyond your control. Doesn’t the idiot realize if my mom had married his dad, neither of us would exist?”
Ivy grabbed her arm and pulled her to move along with the group. “Logic doesn’t have anything to do with it. It’s about pride. Blues are notoriously proud.”
“They’re also arrogant and obnoxious,” Clint said.
Ivy elbowed him. “Hello? Her mom’s a Blue.”
“Obviously, her mom isn’t like other Blues, because she dumped Mr. Westgate for a nicer guy.” He pointed at Bryn’s hair. “I’m not sure how a Red and Blue dragon created a Black dragon. What is your real hair color?”