by Chris Cannon
Time to get off the catwalk. Bryn turned for the stairs. Her foot touched the top step. Screech. The stairs twisted, breaking away from the metal catwalk. There was nothing but air beneath her right foot.
A hand latched onto her arm and yanked hard. She stumbled backward. Zavien pulled her against his body and wrapped his arms around her like she was something precious he needed to protect. She twisted around and buried her face in his chest. His summer rainstorm scent brought tears to her eyes. She’d missed him so much.
A ripping sound filled the air. Sets suspended in the rafters broke loose and crashed down, missing them by inches. Nola screamed. Zavien squeezed Bryn tighter. He was protecting her, choosing her. If they didn’t die, maybe life could go back to how it was before, the way it was supposed to be.
The catwalk bucked and pitched sideways, wrenching Bryn from Zavien’s arms and launching both of them into the air.
Bryn shifted. Something lashed across her right wing like a razor blade. Roaring in pain, she veered left, diving past the chaos on the stage and aiming for the seats. She landed in the second level. A quick shift and she tumbled to the floor.
Her heart thudded in her chest. Where was Zavien? Students clogged the aisles in dragon and human form. She climbed on a seat for a better view and spotted Nola and Zavien a few rows over. Crap. She needed him over here, not over there.
A metallic screech filled the air. Bryn whipped her head around to locate the noise. The catwalk crashed down, splintering the stage. Cables snapped and zinged through the air and more can lights fell.
Then, silence.
Dust and mortar drifted everywhere, creating a haze. A ringing sound filled Bryn’s ears as her heart fought to return to a normal rhythm. Was it over?
“Everyone out here,” Zavien yelled. “Check to see if your friends are present. We need to figure out who’s missing.”
Students made their way into the seats. Some limped. Most were bleeding. Now that she no longer feared for her life, a stinging pain shot up her right arm. She wiped the blood away, revealing several deep cuts. After taking a moment to center herself, she gathered her life force and healed the wounds.
Where were her friends? She spotted Clint holding Ivy on his lap. Bryn pushed through the crowd to reach them. “Is she okay?”
Clint nodded.
Jaxon appeared at Bryn’s side. “Where’s Rhianna?”
Bryn pointed at the stage where sets lay tossed about like a fallen house of cards. “We were working over there before I went up on the catwalk.”
Jaxon ran for the stage, and Bryn followed. Together they picked up the wooden sets and moved them aside. Across the stage, other students sifted through the debris searching for friends.
Under a park scene, they found Rhianna. Her body was twisted and one of her legs was bent at an unnatural angle.
Jaxon dropped to his knees. “Rhianna?”
Bile rose in Bryn’s throat. She knelt and placed a hand on the girl’s forehead and scanned Rhianna’s body.
“Her pelvis is broken,” Bryn whispered.
“Fix it.”
“I don’t know how.” Tears rolled down her face. She couldn’t tell him about Rhianna’s spine. Maybe dragons were different from humans. Maybe Quintessence could heal a severed spinal cord.
Chapter Fifteen
“Who needs medical attention?” a male voice called out. Bryn waved at the medics streaming into the room. She stepped aside and waited to hear what the man would say.
The medic squatted next to Rhianna and ran his hands over her body. When his hand passed over her waist, he growled. “Her spine is damaged.”
Jaxon seemed to shrink in on himself.
“Can you fix it?” Bryn asked.
The medic sighed. “We can heal it, but damage has already been done.”
Jaxon pushed to his feet. “I’ll make arrangements for a staff of specialists to treat her. Tell no one of her condition.”
The medic nodded and Jaxon left the auditorium.
“Why keep this a secret?” Bryn asked.
The medic ignored her while he healed Rhianna’s pelvis. Once he was done, he spoke with a voice full of pity. “If his father finds out, he’ll void their marriage petition.”
“Bastard.”
The medic didn’t respond. She took his silence as agreement.
“Bryn.” Clint waved from across the room and pointed to the doors leading outside. It must be okay to leave. Should she go with them? What about Zavien? He’d chosen her in a time of crisis, but what did that mean?
At the moment, he was in a heated debate with Nola. Neither of them looked happy. If she walked over to him while he was with Nola, nothing good would happen. Frustrated, she growled and moved to join her friends by the exit. They emerged in the cool evening air, and her breath caught in her throat.
Broken glass from the theater building’s windows glittered in the moonlight, making the sidewalks look like they were covered in diamonds. Splintered trees were ripped from the ground and tossed about like kindling. Reds dressed in military fashion roamed the campus with eyes narrowed and fists clenched, ready for a fight. The enemy seemed to have slipped away like mist.
“One of the medics said the attack was wind, like tornadoes,” Clint said.
“Green dragons attacking the campus?” Ivy said. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“Whoever it was, they meant to hurt people.” Smoke shot from Bryn’s nostrils.
They walked toward their dorm in silence. Not telling Clint and Ivy about the incident on the catwalk was making her crazy. But talking about her love life seemed shallow when Rhianna lay injured and the campus was in chaos.
Bryn relaxed when they reached the dorm for about sixty seconds, until she remembered the stairs. Trudging up the stupid stairs to their rooms seemed like too much work after the evening they’d endured, but she didn’t feel like tromping back outside, shifting, and flying up to her terrace, either. “This place needs elevators.”
Wait a minute. “Why hasn’t the campus been made wheelchair-accessible? Isn’t it required by law?”
“Maybe human law,” Clint said. “Here, it’s never been an issue. Medics heal almost all injuries.”
“What about those who can’t be healed?” Images of Rhianna lying twisted on the floor came to mind. “If a student lost a leg, what would happen?”
“I don’t know,” Clint said. “I’ve never seen dragons in wheelchairs unless they were ancient.”
There were two possibilities here. Either medics healed everyone, or those who were injured beyond repair were kept out of what Mrs. Silvertrap, the Proper Decorum teacher, referred to as “polite society.” Given what Bryn knew of the Directorate, she bet on the second theory.
After a nod to her friends, Bryn headed for her room, where she stripped off her clothes and climbed into the shower. Hot water kneaded her tense muscles while she replayed the events of the evening. Who had attacked the campus? Would Rhianna recover? Where did she stand with Zavien? He’d chosen her in a time of crisis. Would he apologize now so they could start over? The memory of his arms around her made her heart hurt. Could they start over after everything he’d done, or rather not done? He hadn’t checked on her after the first attack. He hadn’t tried to apologize. He hadn’t even admitted what he’d done was wrong.
As usual, there were too many questions and not enough answers. When her skin started to prune, she went to bed.
The alarm woke her the next morning in its usual annoying fashion. Bashing it with her Proper Decorum book didn’t bring about the desired results. The alarm survived unscathed. Maybe tonight she’d fly to the top of the dorm and toss it down on the sidewalk to see what would happen.
At breakfast in the dining hall, the only sound was utensils hitting plates. Ivy and Clint greeted her, but they ate in silence. Everyone seemed to be suffering the aftershocks of yesterday’s attack. Once again, not the right time to ask them about Zavien.
She si
pped her coffee and checked the other tables in the dining hall. No Rhianna and no Jaxon. Had he taken her to a special hospital? Jaxon would hire the best specialist money could buy. Hopefully that would be enough.
…
In Elemental Science, the Orange dragons had returned to class. Bryn smiled at Octavius. He nodded, but his expression remained grim.
Mr. Stanton stood behind his desk. The dark circles under his eyes proved he hadn’t had a restful evening. “Class, I have a few announcements before we practice our breath weapons. Octavius and Vivian were cleared of all suspicion in regard to the first attack. Since yesterday’s attack came in the form of wind, the Directorate is interviewing any Greens capable of higher-level magic.” He gave a tight smile. “I was questioned last night and cleared of suspicion.”
“Do they have any leads?” Bryn asked.
He shook his head. “They are following all logical paths. In the meantime, more security has been added. The Directorate is doing everything in its power to keep the campus safe. Now, let’s get to work.”
After class, on her walk to the library, Bryn passed several groups of Reds, dressed in military uniforms, continuing the cleanup effort. Bits of glass caught the morning light and sparkled in the grass. It would be weeks before they managed to rid the campus of debris. The blank spaces where majestic trees had once dotted the landscape resembled open graves.
In the library, she headed for her usual spot on the third floor. It was in a back corner where there wasn’t much traffic, so she was surprised to find a notebook on the table. No book bag hung on the chair, so it didn’t seem like the table was occupied. Checking to make sure there was no one in sight, she opened the notebook. On the first page someone had doodled the same drawing over and over again. It looked like a circle around a plus sign. Inside each quarter there was a triangle. Two right side up and two upside-down. One of each triangle had a line through it. She flipped through the pages. There was nothing else in the notebook; no assignments, no names, no more drawings. Weird. If no one came looking for it, she’d drop it off at the front desk on her way out.
Three paragraphs into a five-paragraph essay, Onyx joined her.
“Your protection charm has been restored.” He pulled the key from his pocket and placed it on her textbook. The red and blue stones caught the light and winked at her, like they knew something she didn’t.
“Thank you.” She picked up the key and placed it in her pocket. “Do you have any news on the attacks?”
“No. I believe both of the previous attacks were warnings. They were meant to shake us up with a minimum of damage. I’m afraid the attacks will increase in severity as time goes on.”
That wasn’t reassuring. “What now?”
“The Directorate wants to initiate mandatory curfews for everyone. That will lead to more unrest.”
“I thought creating unrest was the Revisionists’ goal.”
He shook his head. “Not like this. We want change, but attacking our fellow dragons isn’t part of the plan.”
“Is someone trying to start a war?”
“So it would appear.” Onyx stood. “Be careful who you speak to about this matter. The Directorate is interviewing anyone they deem a threat. Even though your grandfather recognized you, you’re still on that list.”
That was a cheery thought.
Bryn made sure to leave time to stop by Miss Enid’s desk on the way out of the library. “Someone left this on a table upstairs.”
Miss Enid opened the notebook and frowned. She ripped the drawing out and then shredded the paper over and over again until it was confetti.
Not the reaction Bryn expected. “What’s wrong?”
Miss Enid leaned in closer. “Did you show this to anyone?”
“No. Why? What does it mean?”
“The four triangles represent earth, water, air, and fire. The circle represents Quintessence.”
“And that’s bad because…”
“A long time ago, it was used as a symbol for rebellion. A group of dragons from different Clans came together and tried to overthrow the Directorate. They failed, but the symbol has cropped up occasionally when there is unrest. The Directorate banned its use.” She tapped her nails on the counter. “The question is, did someone leave this for you as a test, or a message?”
“I don’t know. Either way, I’m going to ignore it.”
In Basic Movement, Jaxon sought Bryn out. “I need to speak with you in private.”
She followed him over to the lockers where the wooden swords were kept.
“Rhianna wants to see you. I’m visiting her after dinner tonight.”
“Is she all right?”
“No.” Jaxon cleared his throat. “The doctors healed her spinal cord, but her right leg will always be weak.”
The tightly controlled pain in his voice brought a lump to Bryn’s throat. “Can she walk?”
“Yes.” He pretended to search for a sword while he spoke. “But she has a limp.”
“Can she fly?”
“The doctors want to continue physical therapy before allowing her to shift.”
Losing the ability to fly would be like losing a limb.
“Meet me outside the dining hall at seven.” Jaxon slammed the locker door and stalked off.
…
At seven, Bryn waited in the appointed spot. Jaxon rounded the corner of a building and came toward her. He made eye contact, but kept walking. She fell into step a few yards behind him. Why was he being so secretive? Whatever. This was for Rhianna, so she played along.
He led her down a side walkway that wound through a garden. Raised flower beds edged in decorative bricks were laid out in a complex geometric pattern. During warmer weather, the garden would be beautiful. Now, the brown clumps of dead vegetation dotting the brick-lined flower beds seemed like a monument to death and decay.
Wrapping her arms around herself to ward off a chill, Bryn jogged to catch up. Jaxon waited for her inside a service entrance.
“Rhianna isn’t supposed to have visitors,” he said.
“Why?”
“The less she’s seen, the less others know of her condition.”
That didn’t sound right. There was something he wasn’t saying. She followed him up a flight of stairs. “Where my parents live, it isn’t uncommon to see people using canes or wheelchairs.”
Jaxon stopped walking. “Humans are more tolerant of imperfection than dragons.”
“What does that mean?”
He turned to face her, his lips set in a grim line. “Dragons who are unable to fly often choose isolation.”
Flames roared in her chest. “They choose it, or it’s forced on them?”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I…I don’t know. Come on. Rhianna is expecting us.”
Damn the Directorate and their intolerant ways. She followed him up two more flights of stairs. They emerged in a darkened hallway. Jaxon opened the second door on the right and she sneaked in.
Rhianna lay in a hospital bed, her normally golden skin pale against the white sheets. “Thank you for coming, Bryn. I need your help.”
Bryn crossed the room, grabbed her hand, and squeezed. “Name it.”
“Jaxon told me how you healed him. I need you to tell me the truth. How badly was I injured?”
“Jaxon didn’t tell you?”
“Of course I told her,” he snapped. “But I don’t know the extent of her residual injuries. The medics healed her as much as possible. You can use your Quintessence to read her. Let us know where we stand.”
“Okay.” Bryn put her hand on Rhianna’s forehead. “I saw the damage to your spinal cord after the accident. Maybe I’ll recognize what’s been healed. I’m not making any promises. Saving Jaxon’s life was the trial run of my powers. Since then, I’ve only healed cuts and scrapes.”
“What?” Jaxon’s eyebrows shot up. “You didn’t know what you were doing? You could’ve killed me.”
“Medic Williams sa
id you’d die if I didn’t try. Besides, it worked. What are you griping about?”
Rhianna giggled.
Bryn stage-whispered, “Your boyfriend is moody.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Her deadpan response made Bryn laugh.
Jaxon played along, huffing out an exaggerated breath. “I knew you were a bad influence.”
The laughter lightened the mood. Bryn closed her eyes. “Here we go.”
She scanned Rhianna’s body and focused on the point where the spine met the tailbone. There were a few dark spots, but the area, which had been severed, appeared to be fused together.
“I’m no expert, but it looks like they reconnected everything. There are a few dark spots. I’d guess those were bruises. Maybe they need time to heal.”
“Try to heal them,” Jaxon said.
“Rhianna, it’s your call. I don’t know if I’d hurt you or help you.”
“Try to heal one bruise,” Rhianna said.
Bryn gathered a small ball of white light and channeled it into one of the dark spots. After a few moments, she stopped. The bruise remained unchanged.
“Feel any different?”
“What you did felt warm, but I don’t think it changed anything.” Rhianna sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. Bryn backed out of the way while Jaxon helped Rhianna stand. Once Rhianna was steady, she took a few steps. Her gait was uneven. The girl who used to glide across the floor now shuffled her right foot.
Bryn dug her nails into her palms, but made sure to keep her voice upbeat. “Better or worse?”
“The same,” Rhianna whispered.
“Maybe you need more time to recover.” Jaxon’s tone was hopeful.
“Take me to the roof.” Rhianna’s voice shook. “I need to know if I can fly.”
Jaxon placed his hands on Rhianna’s shoulders. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“If we take you up there, we’ll be caught for sure,” Bryn said. “Do you want to risk that?”
“I don’t care. What can they do to me that’s worse than this?”