He shrugged and put his arm around my shoulders. As I nuzzled into him, he said, “Nothing out of the ordinary, I suppose. My father was always away, fighting in the war, and my mother was always taking trips to the front to be on call in case he needed her. I grew up with a variety of nannies until I turned thirteen—that’s when I came to Shadow Academy to study. What about you?”
I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to grow up without your parents around. With nannies talking care of you until you were old enough to be shipped off to some school. Picturing my parents doing something like that to me was an impossibility. “I grew up on the outskirts of a small Unskilled town. Every day my father hunted or fished, and every night my mother would sew or knit by the fireplace. I read tons of books, played in the brook by our house, and went to school with people my own age.”
Trayton’s attention was on me, as if every word that I’d uttered sounded to him like a fairy tale. “That sounds amazing.”
Sighing, I said, “It was. Until I received a letter from the headmaster, saying I had to come here.”
He tilted his head then, so that we were eye to eye. His words were a whisper. “Has it been so terrible, life at Shadow Academy?”
“I just miss my freedom.” Lifting my face, I found myself almost breathless at Trayton’s close proximity. “But if I’d never come here, I never would have met you.”
Then he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. Our mouths melted together. Trayton pulled me closer and I winced as pain tore through my shoulder—pain that I’d almost forgotten, pain that he’d unwittingly been the cause of. We parted instantly and he furrowed his brow. “Are you all right?”
Rubbing at the muscles in my shoulder, I said, “I’m fine. Just pulled something while I was working in the rose gardens, I guess.”
The look in his eye said that he believed me. But I had to fight the urge to tell him that he shouldn’t.
C H A P T E R
Twenty-seven
The gate door opened and in front of me, Barrons filed out. I filed out with them, disguised as one of them and so nervous that I’d be found out that my hands were shaking. Darius had run through their maneuvers with me that morning, but I just knew I was going to step with the wrong foot at the wrong time, or something else so simple that it would give me away. Inside the wall, the Healers waited, along with several Master Healers. Headmaster Quill had decided that these maneuvers were so close to the school that it didn’t make much sense to risk the Healers’ lives by sending them out where Graplars had been spotted. He was probably right, but seeing the Healers left behind made me nervous for so many of the Barrons. It also made me think about how Trayton might be feeling. He hadn’t seen me waiting with the other Healers and had to question where I was. He had to wonder what I was doing that was more important than waiting here to assist him, if he needed my help. I wondered if he felt afraid at all, or if he simply felt angry that I wasn’t here to see him off. I couldn’t see where he was standing, whether he was in front of me in the group somewhere or behind, but I could spy a flash of silver hair to my right and when I turned my head, Darius nodded at me, his jaw stern, his eyes sparkling, ready for the fight to come. A light breeze moved his hair and I wondered again why he never wore a face mask, or why no one insisted that he did. Whatever his reasons, I was certain that Darius would defend them to the end.
As I crossed through the door, a scent danced on the breeze, a foul odor that could only mean that death was near. Together, the Barrons and I turned and moved to the south, over the crest of a large hill, and then down into the valley on the other side. Their feet were soundless on the forest floor, but mine found every dead leaf, every twig. If any Graplars were in the vicinity, they’d know our location by my tromping. I was trying to keep quiet, but doing so made me fall behind, and the last thing I wanted while on maneuvers was to have a large distance between myself and Darius. He was, as much as I was loathe admitting it, my best defense if I got into any trouble I couldn’t handle.
My katana felt oddly heavy on my back, as if the saya were weighted, or perhaps pulling on me to stay still, to keep as far away from the world outside the wall as I possibly could. I moved forward, staying close to Darius, and when he broke into a run, I followed, keeping his pace, even though running that fast made my lungs burn and my thighs ache. He moved ahead of me without so much as a change in his breathing, and I was grateful when his steps finally slowed and I could catch up. He and several other Barrons were standing at the apex of a small ridge, looking down on the other side. By the time I reached him, the smell had overwhelmed my senses. Something—or someone—was dead.
I didn’t want to see what or who was lying at the bottom of that ridge, but the Barrons were looking, so I had to look too. Planting the toes of my shoes in the earth, I climbed the ridge. But when I reached Darius’s side, determined to cast my eyes on the scene that had them all so alert, Darius grabbed me by the arm and turned me away from it. As we walked away, back down the hill, he muttered under his breath, “Another Healer. Definitely a Graplar. You don’t have to look at the body in order to convince them you’re a Barron.”
Shaking his hand from my shoulder and glancing around to be certain no one would hear me speak, I said, “What if I wanted to look? What if I wanted to see it?”
Darius looked me over for a long moment. Then he stepped back and looked back at the ridge. He waited, silently, but we both knew that I didn’t want to see the body. It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle it, but I knew that once I saw it, I could never unsee it. After a long time, he turned from the ridge and began moving south again. My shoulders sagging, I followed.
Barrons spread out through the woods around us, but none were ahead of Darius as he moved with certainty around this tree and that. Once we crested another small hill, we were joined by six others. Silently, alertly, we moved deeper and deeper in the forest as a team, and once we worked our way across a small creek, I saw where Darius was leading us. An enormous oak tree stood on the other side of the creek, its trunk marred with large claw marks, some of them fresh. Darius pointed at the tree. “It watches.”
He dropped his arm, gesturing to the creek that we had just crossed. “It drinks.”
The Barron to my left removed his mask, shaking his head. I was surprised to see that it was Trayton. He looked back over his shoulder, in the direction we had come from, and I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was thinking about the body of the Healer that they’d found. Under his breath, he spoke, his voice eerily calm. “It feeds.”
They were talking about a Graplar that had apparently made camp just outside the school walls. Not on the Outer Rim, but here, here where we were supposed to be relatively safe. My heart rattled inside my chest, and I couldn’t help but wonder whether it was around now, maybe watching us from the treetops, maybe hungering to rip the meat from our bones.
I tilted my head back, scanning the trees, but saw nothing lurking above us. By the time I’d brought my attention back to my immediate surroundings, Darius was crouched and looking furtively over some markings in the soil. In a moment of alarm, he jerked his head up and looked back past the creek, in the direction we’d come from. A moment later, a sound filled my ears. A horrible screeching that I knew all too well.
As if they were one body, the group of Barrons darted over the creek and back up the hill. They moved quickly, their footfalls silent on the forest floor. My thighs burned as I tried to keep up, but I fell behind, my lungs aching, sweat pouring down my brow. When I finally caught up to them, the scene before me made my heart seize momentarily inside my chest.
A large group of Graplars were facing off with several Barrons at the north gate, metal slicing through air, then flesh. Teeth biting, chewing. It was horrendous to see, but two Graplars were doing the unthinkable. They threw their bodies against the gate, and when the metal refused to break under the pound of their scaly flesh, they’d back up and do it again. The beast on the lef
t had hit the door so hard that the skin on top of its skull had split open. Blood poured from the wound, but it backed up and flung itself forward once again. The sound of flesh against metal resounded through the forest. Only a scream tore my attention away. A Graplar to my left had sunk its teeth into a Barron’s shoulder and was thrashing its head back and forth, refusing to free its prey. Instinctively, I reached back, freeing my katana and ran to assist.
The voice at the back of my mind told me to keep running, to get the hell out of here and let someone who was more qualified handle this, that I couldn’t possibly help this Barron anyway, but I told it to shut up and ran at the Graplar with my sword at the ready. I’d asked for this. I’d begged Darius to let me come along. And now I was going to kill the monster. I was going to save that Barron. If I had to die to do it. And fear wasn’t going to stop me.
Slashing through the air, I brought my katana down hard, cutting straight through the beast’s right eye. The thing let out an angry howl, opening its jaws wide. The rows and rows of teeth parted, releasing the trapped Barron at last. He stumbled, then fell on the ground, clutching his wounded shoulder. Blood poured from the bite. His face flushed, and I thought for sure he was going to pass out cold right there, but to my shock, he remained standing.
The Graplar shook its massive head and, recovering from my blow, it narrowed its black, soulless eyes at me. I had thought, prior to that moment, that Graplars were incapable of emotion, that they were simply mindless, heartless killing machines, bent on chewing people to bits for the sheer pleasure of it. But at that moment, staring into the dark abyss of its gaze, I learned that Graplars were absolutely capable of feeling emotion, and that this one was incredibly terked off. At me.
Without thinking—because if I took even a second to do that, I might have screamed—I raised my blade as fast as I could and brought it down again, but this time, the Graplar ducked my advances and charged forward, knocking me on my back. My lungs clenched closed as the wind was knocked out of me. My chest was frozen in a state of panic. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. And I couldn’t see the Graplar.
Scrambling to my feet, I tried to catch my breath, but before I could, I was hit in the side by the creature’s massive bulk. My back hit the ground again, and the Graplar gnashed its teeth forward. Thinking fast, I brought up my blade just in time. It bit down on the metal just inches from my face. I thought that it might back off then, because the katana was cutting into the corners of its mouth, blood dribbling down the blade, down my arm and onto my chest. But the beast narrowed its eyes even more and pushed toward me, forcing the blade deeper into its own flesh. It didn’t care. It only cared that its actions would bring its hungry jaws closer to me.
My heart was racing. What more could I do to stop the beast? What more could I do to save my own life?
I pushed hard with the katana, sinking the edge of the blade in deeper still, hoping to lop off its head, but I couldn’t get enough leverage on the blade, and drool was dripping from its jaws in anticipation of its next meal. Then, over the Graplar’s shoulder, I spied the Barron who I had saved. The tip of the katana’s sharp blade was sticking out of the side of its hungry mouth, and with precision, the Barron grabbed the tip with his hand. The metal sliced slowly into his flesh and blood poured out of him. He barely winced, and I was reminded of my parents and their enormous resistance to pain. He pulled the blade back, deeper into the beast’s mouth. The katana cut through the Graplar’s head cleanly, and with a gurgle, its giant body stumbled to the left before collapsing lifeless on the ground.
Before I could thank the Barron, he was gone.
I hurried to stand, flinging the Graplar’s blood from my blade before I turned to survey the battlefield. My heart was racing inside my chest, a steady stream of beats, pumping blood through my body. The thud of that blood rushing through me pounded in my ears, but not enough to drown out the sounds of fighting as they fell flat all around me. Most of the Graplars were dead, but the ones that weren’t had run off to parts unknown. Surveying the Barrons around the battlefield, it didn’t look like any lives were lost. Just a few scrapes and cuts, maybe a bite or two. All in all, we were wildly successful in our efforts. Pride filled me, replacing the adrenaline. I allowed myself a small smile as I looked around. We did this—the Barrons and I—we stopped the Graplars from getting inside the wall.
A hand closed over my face mask and ripped it away, flinging it onto the ground. I spun from whoever had grabbed it, but his other hand closed over my arm, as if to tell me that I wouldn’t be going anywhere. I shoved at him then, and only then did I notice that he’d removed his mask as well. Trayton’s eyes burned with a betrayal that shot straight through me. My jaw fell open, but no words would come. A low whisper made its way through the group, one that I tried desperately to ignore. And the entire time, Trayton’s eyes, now moist with anger, were on me, refusing to look away.
C H A P T E R
Twenty-eight
The waiting area outside the headmaster’s office was completely silent, apart from the sound of my heart drumming in my ears. Maddox was standing just to my left, fidgeting like she was dying to blurt out something inappropriate, but was managing not to do so, for my sake. Trayton sat to my right, sharing the bench I was seated on, but we couldn’t have been further apart. My mouth was stubbornly closed, the tension in the air so thick, and I refused to utter even a single word to him after he’d reported me to Headmaster Quill. He was a traitor, and I wanted nothing to do with him.
By the look on his face, the feeling was mutual. He stared ahead, miles away from me, and even further away from the kisses we’d shared. Across from me sat Darius, who was leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his eyes cast downward. The air grew increasingly heavy with tension as the seconds crawled by. At long last, the door to the headmaster’s office opened and he stuck his pudgy head out the door. “Maddox. Inside. Now.”
She glanced at me first and my heart followed her through that door. When it closed behind her, all I could do was bring my legs up and hug my knees to my chest in worry. What would happen to Maddox? Would she be sent away? I’d do anything to keep her here, but what could I do? It was Trayton’s fault that she was here. One word from him to Headmaster Quill that I’d broken Protocol in a big way, and my guard had been called in for punishment as well.
The shouting began just a moment after the door had closed behind her. Raised voices—both Maddox’s and Headmaster Quill’s—shook the walls, but very little of what they were shouting could be deciphered from the side of the door that I was on. Not long after the argument ceased, the door whipped open and Maddox exited, her face flushed red with fury, her eyes piercing. She moved in front of me and I put my legs down, searching her face for any sign that everything would be all right. “I’ve been replaced as your guard, and he’s forbidden me from speaking to you ever again, but if he thinks the powers that be are going to tear me away from my best friend, he’s got another think coming, Kaya. Oh…and I’ve been permanently reassigned…to guard the north gate.”
At this, even Darius straightened in alarm.
“But, Maddox…” I whispered, my heart heavy. “You aren’t trained. And the north gate is the one most attacked by Graplars.”
Maddox nodded, her anger giving way to tears. “I’ll stop by tonight after your classes to see how your meeting went, okay?”
The door swung open again, and before the headmaster could wedge his pudgy head out the door, Maddox turned and disappeared down the hall and out of sight. “Darius. You’re next.”
Darius stood and entered the door with no sign of emotion at all. If anything, he moved with an air of confidence that I didn’t understand. I also didn’t understand why he’d stepped forward on the battlefield and admitted to Trayton that it was his fault I was there at all. I hadn’t agreed with him—it was Darius who had trained me, but it was my choice to fight—but no one was listening to me.
Once the door had closed behin
d Darius, I dared a glance at Trayton, who remained stone-faced beside me. What was he thinking? That I had lied to him, betrayed his trust? Maybe he wasn’t thinking about me at all. After a long silence, Trayton glanced my way, his eyes full of accusation. “Your shoulder? It wasn’t injured gardening, was it? It was you that day outside the wall.”
“If you’ll recall, I did ask you to teach me. You said no. So I found someone who would.”
“Yeah. My best friend.” The scowl on his face deepened.
I sank into my seat. There was no need to respond.
From within the headmaster’s office came muttered voices—not shouting as it had been with Maddox. After a moment, the door opened again. Surprisingly, Headmaster Quill peeked out from behind the heavy wood. “If you two would join us for a moment, I believe we can put this matter to rest.”
Without another glance at Trayton, I stood and moved toward the door. My footfalls sounded heavy on the marble floor, their echoes filling the formerly silent room. As I pulled the door open and moved over the threshold, the air changed from cold and empty of emotion to stifling hot and filled to the brim with annoyance and irritation. Headmaster Quill gestured to the two unoccupied chairs in front of his desk. Darius was seated in the third, staring straight ahead, devoid of any emotion. Apparently, he had taken a page from Trayton’s book.
After I sat down, Headmaster Quill took his seat behind the desk and eyed both Trayton and me wordlessly. Finally, he spoke. “There has been a complication, Kaya. A complication caused by your unforgivable actions and it demands a suitable punishment.”