by Chris Cannon
“And if that’s true, if any of those hybrid kids survived and married, they’d produce more hybrids.” Clint glanced around. “We probably shouldn’t be talking about this out here.”
“Okay, no more hybrid talk.” Bryn leaned back in her seat. “Why are these attacks happening? Why are they hurting students? We have no power. If someone is pissed off at the people in control, why aren’t they going after them?”
Ivy shoved her sandwich away. “My best guess is they want to scare our parents, so they’ll demand the Directorate do something. And if the Directorate fails, our parents, or some of them at least, will rebel.”
Doubtful. Most of the dragons seemed to bow down to the Directorate pretty readily. Even Zavien, who was supposed to be the leader of the student Revisionists, was just an errand boy who delivered petitions to the Directorate. And that’s when it hit her. She hadn’t thought to ask about Zavien since she’d gotten back. Was that bad or good?
“What do you think the Directorate’s next move will be?” Bryn asked.
“I imagine they’ll find a way for us to go back to classes tomorrow,” Clint said, “but I doubt we’ll be able to go to Dragon’s Bluff for a while, or go flying.”
“I wonder if they’ll still let us go home for Christmas next week,” Ivy said. “I mean, they have to, right?”
“Of course.” Clint put his arm around Ivy’s shoulders. “Do you think the Directorate wants to deal with a bunch of surly teenagers griping about missing Christmas?”
“They’re attacking the school because we’re like sitting ducks here. We’re probably safer spread out in different cities,” Bryn said.
Clint and Ivy gave her the “you don’t have a clue” look, which she hadn’t seen in a while and hadn’t missed. “What? You all live in some color-coded apartment complex?”
“No.” Ivy leaned into Clint. “The Blues stick to their estates, which are scattered in the forest surrounding the institute. Clint and I live in a town about twenty minutes from here called Lakeview Hills.”
“Because there are hills that overlook a lake?” Bryn asked.
“Yes. It’s a bunch of three-bedroom houses and parks. The business district is one town over in Emberville. A lot of dragons live in apartments or condos close to where they work. There are a few small villages mixed in throughout the forest. I mean really small, like just a mom-and-pop store and a gas station with one blinking stoplight.”
“So dragons mostly populate small areas and keep to themselves.” Speaking of people keeping to themselves, Bryn needed to email her parents and break the news about Christmas Eve.
“What’s wrong?” Ivy asked.
“I have to tell my parents I won’t be home for Christmas Eve. It’s always been just the three of us.” The depth of her parents’ isolation finally became clear to her. “I never thought about it before. How lonely they must be.”
“Do they seem lonely?” Clint asked. “Because the way you described them, they seemed happy.”
“I thought they were. Now I realize they’ve never had any close friends.”
“Given a choice of marrying Ferrin or keeping to yourself, which would you choose?” Ivy asked.
“Good point.” Maybe she was projecting her own feelings on her parents. They’d never seemed unhappy when she was growing up. “I think I’ll call them tonight to tell them about Christmas.”
Later that night in her room, she made the call. No one answered, so she left a message and decided to email them. She explained that she’d come home on the twenty-second, fly back to her grandparents’ estate for the Christmas Eve ball, and then come home later that night so she’d be there to open presents Christmas morning. After sending the email, she waited for a reply. None came. They were probably out Christmas shopping.
That brought a puzzle to mind. How could she shop if she wasn’t allowed to leave campus? If she had a credit card, she could shop online. She crossed her fingers for luck and pulled out her Dragon’s Bluff credit card. Sure enough, there was a Web address, which allowed her to shop online at several stores. First she needed to check her balance. Her parents didn’t have that much to give her. Before she tried to order Christmas presents, she should check her limit.
After typing in her information, she gaped at the screen. The number for her account had far too many zeros at the end. She checked her account’s history and saw the modest balance she’d begun with. The extreme jump in her funds had come after her grandparents had recognized her. Huh… That was weird. It was nice that they were willing to help out with her expenses, but why hadn’t they mentioned it?
She’d ask her grandmother about it later. Right now, she’d shop. First, she ordered a giant tin of caramel corn from Snacks Galore and several frozen pizzas from Fonzoli’s to be shipped to her parents.
Now, what to get Clint and Ivy? An art set would work for Ivy. For Clint, she bought a T-shirt that looked like a tuxedo jacket and shirt when you put it on. Since he’d made such a big deal out of hating to wear a tuxedo to the dance, maybe he’d find it funny. Guys were hard to buy for. That left Valmont and her grandparents to shop for. For Valmont, she found a rug that would match the pillows his sister gave him as a housewarming gift for his cabin. For her grandparents…she had no clue. What did you buy people who had two ballrooms?
After scrolling through multiple Web pages, she settled on a gardening club membership for her grandmother, which sent one plant a month in the mail. Gardening was the only hobby she knew her grandmother had. For her grandfather, she bought a dessert-of-the-month-club membership, since he seemed to like food as much as she did. Was that lame? Probably, but it would do until she came up with a better idea.
The next morning, Bryn didn’t know if she had class or not. She showered and dressed just in case. When she wandered down to the café for breakfast, it was empty. A sign posted in the café informed her classes would resume at normal times and the dining hall was open. “Nice of them to let us all know.”
Should she run and knock on Ivy’s door? Ivy and Clint coming down the stairs answered that question. They checked out the café. Bryn pointed at the sign.
“Okay.” Clint yawned and walked toward the front door of the dorm with Ivy in tow.
The mood in the dining hall was cautiously optimistic. Students talked about leaving school at the end of the week.
“How did your parents take the news about Christmas Eve?” Ivy asked as they filled their plates at the buffet.
Bryn drenched her pancakes in syrup before adding a pile of bacon to her plate. “They haven’t answered yet. I don’t know if they’re busy, or if they don’t know how to respond.” A nervous feeling plagued her stomach. That didn’t stop her from eating her weight in pancakes. As her mom once told her, when she’d explained that dragons could eat as much as they want and not gain weight, there are few problems in life sugar and fat can’t solve.
“How are you getting home?” Clint asked.
Bryn paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. “I hadn’t thought of that. Zavien and Garrett flew with me the first time.” Zavien was out of the picture. Garrett, well, he wouldn’t be flying anywhere. She pushed her food away. “Has there been any news on Garrett?”
“They allowed the injured students to leave school early for the holidays,” Clint said.
Allowed to leave? Probably more like shooed them out of sight. Sadness for Garrett and Rhianna slammed into her chest. “It’s all so wrong.”
They finished breakfast in silence.
Chapter Twenty-One
They’d taken their seats in Elemental Science when a commotion broke out in the hallway. Bryn turned to find her grandmother standing in the classroom doorway. Tears streaked the older woman’s face. “Bryn, come with me.”
Something was wrong, like end-of-the-world wrong, because nothing would make her grandmother openly show emotions except…no… She wouldn’t go there. It had to be something else.
She checked with Mr. Stanton.
He gestured that she should go.
Pushing away from her desk, it took effort to move toward her grandmother. “What’s wrong?”
“Not here.” Her grandmother walked down the hall and into a classroom where two Reds stood flanking her grandfather. The frown lines etched in his face made him look like he was carved from stone.
Her grandmother sat at a student desk, like the weight of an ugly truth bore down on her, making it too hard to stand. Bryn backed up to a chair and sat. “My parents…”
“Bryn.” Her grandfather cleared his throat. “There’s no easy way to say this. A bomb, disguised as a Christmas present, was delivered to their apartment late last night. They were killed instantly.”
“No.” He had to be wrong. Her parents couldn’t be gone. She was going home tomorrow… They were going to decorate the tree, and string popcorn, and bake cookies, and play Battleship. Her dad would win like he always did, and she would roll her eyes at his victory dance while her mom laughed.
“I am sorry.” Her grandfather’s voice wavered.
No… No… No. Heat built inside her body. This couldn’t be happening. Her parents weren’t involved in dragon politics. They were innocent. Anger banked the flames in her gut. Her breathing came faster, and something crawled up the back of her throat and for a moment she thought she might vomit, and then sparks shot from her nostrils with every exhalation and all she could taste was smoke.
She wanted to scream…yell…demand answers…and she could do none of those things without spewing flames. Pushing to her feet, she stumbled over to an open window, took a deep breath, opened her mouth and roared her grief in blazing flames over and over again until her throat felt raw and exhaustion dropped her to the floor.
And it wasn’t enough. Pain raged inside her, but her spark was gone. Her flame exhausted. Everything. Gone.
On her knees, she stared out at the afternoon sky. It was still blue. Students walked around campus going about their lives.
“How does everything keep going?” Bryn asked.
“It just does.” Her grandmother stood by her side. “Even though you think the entire world should come to a screeching halt. It keeps turning, which is damn annoying.”
Choking back a laugh, Bryn took the hand her grandmother offered. Holding out one last hope, she addressed her grandfather. “Could there be… Is there any chance you’re wrong?”
“I wish there was,” he said, “but no.”
The injustice of it cut at her insides. “Why? My parents didn’t have anything to do with any of this.”
“I know.” Her grandfather straightened his shoulders. “Life isn’t fair. As I’m sure you’ve learned.”
“Can I see…is there…” Too horrific, the words wouldn’t come.
“The bomb leveled your parents’ apartment and half the city block around it. Believe me when I say there is nothing left to see but a crater in the ground. Whoever did this made sure there wasn’t any DNA evidence left for the police to find. Nothing to identify your parents as anything other than human.” He stood. “From now on, your home is with us.”
“Thank you.” She felt hollow and empty, like someone had scraped her guts out with an ice cream scoop.
The next hour was a blur. Her grandmother and one of the Red guards accompanied her back to Mr. Stanton’s class, where she explained the situation to Clint and Ivy. They barely had time to hug her before she was escorted to her room to pack her belongings.
Her grandmother rambled on about not worrying about missing homework assignments. Like she gave a crap about homework right now. Nothing mattered right now. Nothing except finding the people who’d done this and exacting revenge. She’d never believed herself capable of murder. And now she wouldn’t give a second thought to digging her talons into the murderers’ chests and ripping out their hearts. More than that, she would enjoy it.
Funny what you learn about yourself during times of stress.
Once she’d packed, the guard ushered her and her grandparents into an SUV driven by another guard. Other students, mostly Blues, were being shuffled into similar cars.
“Everyone is afraid.” No one answered or confirmed her suspicions. “Are my friends safe?”
“You mean the Black dragons from your class?” her grandmother asked.
Bryn nodded.
“As long as they don’t have relatives on the Directorate, they should be fine.”
That was good. Bryn stared out the window of the SUV, watching the trees go by, consumed by one thought. “When we find out who murdered my parents, what happens to them?”
“No trial. No explanations. No excuses,” her grandmother said. “They die.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Good to know her grandmother was on board with the revenge plan.
The SUV bounced over a rut in the tree-lined road leading to her grandparents’ estate. Bryn grasped her seat belt, needing to hold on to something. Which was funny, because with her parents gone, what did she have left to hold on to?
Time to block things out for a while. Hoping for sleep, Bryn closed her eyes as the SUV continued winding through the forest. When the motion stopped, Bryn woke. One look out the window showed that the building—she couldn’t think of it as a house—was as monstrous as she remembered. Five stories high, built of pale gray stone, it would’ve made a great set for a vampire movie.
Would this ever feel like home? Probably not. She followed her grandparents through the giant front door and into the main hall. The marble floors and granite walls of the foyer didn’t broadcast a warm welcome. Goose bumps pebbled her arms.
Up a marble staircase they went, to the second floor landing, where they stopped. Now what?
“I have Directorate business to attend to. I’ll see you both at dinner.” Her grandfather continued up the stairs to the third floor.
“I thought we’d choose your rooms.” Her grandmother gestured toward the right. “There are several suites in my wing that would be suitable.”
“Okay.” Rooms? As in more than one? Whatever. As long as it had a bed and a dresser, she’d be fine.
The only sound in the house was the clicking of their heels on the marble tile. This silence, this nothingness, would drive her crazy. She’d need a radio or a television for sure. They reached a door on the right hand side, and her grandmother gestured that she should enter. “Go on.”
Bryn grasped the doorknob and froze. “Are we sure there aren’t any bombs wired to the doors this time?” The last time she’d been here a bomb had blown her across the room, fractured both her legs and her pelvis, and burned off her eyebrows. Even though the medics had been able to heal her with Quintessence, it wasn’t an experience she wanted to repeat.
“Security did a sweep of the house this morning.”
“Good.” She pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was decorated in peach ruffles and cream lace. Ick. Staying in this room would give her a toothache. She made eye contact with her grandmother. “It’s lovely, but…”
Her grandmother raised an eyebrow in challenge.
“It’s a little too…”
“Frilly?” her grandmother asked.
“Exactly.”
“Then let’s move on.” Farther down the hall, they came to a door with a brass doorknob.
Bryn opened the door. The plain blue and beige color scheme lacked flair, but it was better than that froufrou nightmare. “This works for me.”
“There is one more set of rooms I’d like you to see before you choose.”
Was this a test? Would she be forced to spend the day playing musical bedrooms? All she wanted was to go to sleep and block out the nightmare her life had become. But apparently, that wasn’t on the agenda. She followed her grandmother around the corner and up a flight of stairs that ended at a small landing. The door to this room was decorated with carvings of a forest.
“Cool door.” She pushed it open and gasped. Light spilled in from the floor-to-ceiling windows and reflect
ed off the polished dark wood floor. The room was decorated in every hue of autumn leaves. “It’s like a forest in here.”
“Your grandfather didn’t understand when I discussed this with the interior decorator, but I think it turned out quite well.”
“It’s so warm and inviting.” Oops. “Not that the rest of your house isn’t warm and inviting.”
“Stop backpedaling. Your grandfather chose intimidating and cold decorations for the main part of the house. He achieved what he set out to do. I prefer more warmth.” She turned for the door. “Come. I’ll show you my rooms.”
Interesting. Maybe her grandmother wasn’t as cold as she’d first thought. Back down the small set of stairs, they took a side hall and went up another flight, which dead-ended at a landing. Pride was evident in her grandmother’s face when she opened the door and ushered Bryn inside.
“Wow.” Sunshine spilled into this room, lighting up the amber and evergreen decor. Not a ruffle or scrap of lace in sight. Everything was simple clean lines.
Suspicion confirmed. “The frilly peach room was a test, wasn’t it?”
“Maybe.” Her grandmother pointed to another doorway. “This room is my favorite.”
One wall made entirely of glass turned the small sitting area into a greenhouse. Orchids and other flowering plants lined shelves and tables, releasing a sweet floral sent. Two brown leather wingback chairs and a bookcase were the only other items in the room.
“This is amazing.”
“Do you have any interest in gardening?” Her grandmother picked up a brass pitcher and watered a pale pink orchid.
“I’d be happy to learn. We never had a yard.” Bam. Pain ripped through her gut. There was no yard…no apartment…no home to return to…no parents. Just a wrenching, cold ache. She grabbed at the wall. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Suck in a breath, and exhale. Push the flames down. Setting her grandmother’s favorite room on fire wouldn’t improve the situation.