Chapter 37

37

T ristan

We hear the first shouts as we swoop down towards the academy followed by bolts of magic firing our way. The dragons spiral back up into the sky again and then downwards, but unlike the night of the Victory Ball, they don’t scorch everything to ashes with their fire.

None of us wants the academy destroyed again and either the dragons sense that from us or Rhi has given them some kind of command. Instead, we fire our own magic. It’s only the guards my dad stationed here that attack us, the handful of students out on the paths run for cover, hurrying into dormitories or classrooms.

My magic has changed. It’s stronger than before and more free flowing. It comes easily when called and I don’t even have to form the thought, don’t even need to visualize what I want my magic to do, it’s already doing it .

I knock one of the guards down easily, despite the way he twists and turns, and I take out another two fighting side by side with one flick of my fingers. In front of me my cousin fights just as deftly, striking a handful of guards at once and sending them flying like tenpins struck by a ball.

Then the great doors of the mansion open and most of the faculty come pouring out into the grounds, heads raised our way, hands moving that way too.

“No,” I shout at them, “don’t shoot!”

I see York in the middle of the group, her eyes meeting mine and then moving over the others, recognition forming on her face. She hesitates. Then lowers her hands and shoots at one of the guards instead. The teachers around her stand gaping, stunned, and then Coach Hank follows suit, firing his magic at another of the guards and several of the others follow his example.

“What are you doing?” I hear Dr. Johnson screech, her glasses tumbling off her nose, catching on the chain around her neck. “The Lord Protector–”

“Shut up Diana!” Coach Hank yells at her so fiercely, she whimpers and shrinks away.

The guards are outnumbered. Vastly outnumbered. Half of them turn on their heels and run, the other half raise their hands above their heads and surrender.

Coach Hank and a couple of the other teachers gather them up into a circle and then York rests her hands on her hips and shouts up to us:

“Are you coming down or not?”

Stone points over to the meadow and the dragons fly that way, landing in the long grass and slumping to the ground. It’s been a long flight and I’m guessing that they’re tired. We slide off their backs, our feet landing back on republic soil, Rhi’s pig squirming in Barone’s arms .

The first person that breaks through the trees and into the meadow is Principal York, followed shortly after by Coach and then Mrs. Holyhill, the old Magical History and Politics teacher (I’m rather shocked the teeny tiny woman can move that fast). Next are several of our old team mates and a handful of cheerleaders, including Summer. I’m surprised to see her here. I assumed she’d be with my dad.

Perhaps he’s tired of her already.

Rhi’s dragon rumbles but she lifts her hand.

“It’s not clear if these people are our friends or enemies,” she says to the dragon, “but I’d rather not roast any people alive until we know for sure, okay?”

“And how about you?” Principal York asks us, shrewd eyes lingering on me. “Do you come as friends or enemies?”

“Friends, I hope,” Professor Stone replies, stepping forward to take the role as our official spokesperson.

Principal York lets out a long puff of air I reckon she’s been holding for some time and her tight shoulders visibly loosen.

“Well …” she says, “well …”

“What do you mean?” Summer says, hands on her hips, outrage on her face. “These are enemies of the state!”

Summer never was as bright as she thought she was and it seems she’s slow on the uptake.

“Miss Clutton-Brock, be quiet,” York tells her. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion or your advice and I certainly don’t require either!”

“But–”

“Quiet! Miss Blackwaters and Mr. Kennedy are students of this academy. They are welcome here.”

“You’re making a big mistake,” Summer says threateningly, eyes narrowing at me before she swishes her hair and storms off .

“Want me to go after her?” Coach asks. “She’s likely to inform the Lord Protector about our arrivals.”

York shakes her head. “I suspect she already has.”

The students behind them hesitate, some peering anxiously in Summer’s direction, and then Al walks forward engulfing Spencer in a tight hug, before stepping towards me and doing the same.

“I’m so glad you’re alive, man,” he says, “you heard about Will and Samson …”

I shake my head and curse. Will? Samson? No, I hadn’t heard.

The rest of our team members follow suit and while I’m happy to receive the handshakes and the slaps on the back, I notice Spencer seems less enthusiastic. Perhaps he isn’t as convinced in their friendship as he used to be. After all, how many of the other students were happy to follow Christopher Kennedy’s sick way of thinking, too ready to agree that all weres should be locked away and tortured?

The cheerleaders glance among themselves and look as if they too will come for hugs and grand reunions. But, Rhi stares them down as if to say there’s no way she’s going to stand there and let them grope her men. I’m guessing the dragon agrees, because she rumbles again and everyone else jumps away.

“She’s a beaut,” Mrs. Holyhill says, adjusting the spectacles that balance on her nose and gazing at the dragon with her clouded eyes. “A matriarch mother, I think.”

“She is?” Rhi says, gaze skimming over her dragon.

“I would think so. She’s large enough to be one and she appears to have made a bond with you if I’m not mistaken.”

“Little rabbit healed her when she was injured,” Barone says with such obvious pride she can’t help but blush.

“Really?” the principal says .

“Quite a feat,” Mrs. Holyhill adds, as the clearing begins to fill with other curious teachers and students. “I imagine there are not many magicals a dragon would allow to do that, especially a matriarch mother.”

“Are matriarch mothers special then, prof?” Renzo says, asking the question I was thinking.

“Well, according to books written in the time of dragons, yes. Dragons are just like elephants – the mothers rule the school.”

“School?”

“It’s the name for a group of dragons – most often related and living together,” the little old lady tells us, smiling up at the dragon as if she were a cute kitten and not a killing machine.

“Is this her family then – or her school?” I ask, pointing towards the other dragons now lazing about in the meadow.

“Most probably.”

The principal clears her throat.

“Is it safe to leave your …” she frowns, “dragons here? I think it pertinent that we go somewhere private to talk.”

Rhi turns to the dragon.

“Thank you. For saving us. Again,” Piglet says to the dragon, sounding as mad as she does when she speaks to that pig. The dragon stares at her. That same look the pig so often seems to gives her. “You can go now. There’s no need to stay. You’re free. Only don’t go flying straight back to the West, okay? Go to the mountains or the oceans or–”

“I don’t think she wants to go,” Barone says. “I think that old prof is right. I think she likes you.”

Rhi sighs. I can kind of see her point. One pig, five men and now several dragons to add to her collection.

Oh yeah, and a best friend.

A best friend who comes charging through the trees towards her. Right on her heels is her boyfriend, Trent, and my cousin Ellie.

“Rhi!” Winnie says, pushing through the gathered students and flinging her arms right around Piglet’s neck. Ellie does the same, hugging her brother.

“Winnie! Ellie! What the … what are you doing here?”

Winnie whispers in her ear and I’m assuming I’ll find out later.

Rhi hugs her extra tight and then they step apart.

“So you’re all riding dragons now?” Winnie asks, still clinging on to Piglet’s hand.

“Good to see you again, Miss Wence,” Stone says, stepping forward to kiss her cheek.

“Yeah, good to see you, Winnie,” Spencer says.

“Miss Blackwaters …” York prompts.

Rhi turns back to the dragon.

“I’ll come back and find you, okay?” The dragon settles herself down on her side as if she understands and rests her great head on the ground.

“Okay,” I say, “let’s go talk.”

“Beryl and Hank,” the principal says to both teachers, “I think it wise if you come with us.”

Dr. Johnson steps forward from the crowd that’s formed. “Perhaps I could be of assistance too, Stella.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Principal York says stiffly, already turning on her heels and walking towards the trees. The crowd parts to let her through and we follow, whispers rippling around us like a breeze through trees as we pass by the students, their eyes brimming with curiosity.

When we arrive back at the campus, there are more students out on the pathways, all having left their classes to watch as we walk towards the mended mansion. One or two students linger in doorways or poke their heads out as we walk up the repaired mansion’s staircase and along the corridor to the principal’s office, the bronze plaque bearing the principal’s name hanging on the new door. She lets us pass inside and closes the door behind us.

“I imagine you are all hungry and thirsty,” she says.

I glance at Azlan. We’ve just turned up unannounced at her school, bringing dragons with us, dispersing the men meant to guard the school and probably bringing a load of shit down on her head. Tea and cakes was not what I was expecting.

“We’d be grateful for something to eat, Stella,” Stone says, magicking several chairs into the office and pushing Rhi into the first, followed by me.

Barone lowers the pig to the floor and it goes scuttling toward Rhi.

Mrs. Holyhill takes a seat as well, while Coach Hank leans against the door, his arms crossed over his chest as if he’s guarding the entrance – that or preventing our escape.

Principal York clicks her fingers and a kettle in the corner switches on to boil and a tin of cookies deposits itself in my lap. I take two, hesitate then take a third, suddenly so hungry I could happily stuff all thirty cookies in my mouth at once. Then I pass them onto Piglet, who does exactly the same.

“They have magical restorative powers,” Principal York explains as she sets several tea cups in a row along her desk.

I sink back into my chair and take a bite into the cookie. We flew straight here, not stopping to eat, and my belly is most definitely empty. I’m guessing Piglet’s is too. She moans in pleasure as she bites into a cookie despite the three teachers in this classroom with us. However, despite her hunger, after a couple of bites, she feeds the rest to the pig .

York tips hot water into an ancient-looking teapot and after a swirl of her fingers, pours steaming tea into each of the teacups.

“No milk, I’m afraid,” she says, passing the first to Rhi.

Rhi balances her remaining cookies on her lap and takes a long sip, burning her tongue in the process and making her eyes water.

Stone gives her an unimpressed look and accepts a teacup of his own, blowing across the surface of the tea first before gulping a mouthful.

“So,” the principal says, once we all have tea, her eyes darting towards Renzo as he slurps down the lot nosily, “I suggest you start at the beginning. And then I think it best that you tell us what you intend to do next.”

“Next?” I say, my second cookie hovering in front of my lips.

“I assume you’ve come here with a plan or a purpose.” Her gaze skims across our faces. “I don’t know what your intentions are, Miss Blackwaters, Mr. Kennedy.” The principal turns to stare Stone right in the eyes. “It seems I have been kept in the dark about certain things. For starters, how on earth did you come by those dragons?”

“The Black Prince,” I tell her simply.

“The Black Prince?” Mrs. Holyhill says, spilling her tea all over her lap. “He’s alive?”

“He was, and Rhianna’s father,” Azlan says and this time it’s York who chokes on her tea.

“Your father?” Winnie yelps.

“Why on earth did no one tell me?” York asks.

“Because I didn’t know myself up until a few days ago,” Rhi says.

“Does the Lord Protector know?”

“Most probably,” I say .

“And on his way,” Coach says from the door. “Only a matter of time. I’m sure he’s been alerted to your presence.”

York seems unconcerned with this piece of news. “You are … were … his daughter?” she says, seeming as equally unperturbed by this piece of news. “You killed him?”

“He was a drainer. A vampire.” Again York takes this piece of news in her stride, although Coach mumbles a series of expletives.

“I always thought that was just some tale,” he mutters.

“The dark magicals were expelled,” Miss Holyhill says and for once I wish I’d paid more attention in her classes. Maybe we’d have been forewarned about the Black Prince and his inclination for other magicals’ blood.

Rhi’s gaze swivels around us all. “He planned to drain me of my magic – to drain all of us – to use us as his Sources. We fought back.”

“Against an entire coven of vampires?” York says.

“Their Sources joined us – helped us – to fight back. They killed the Black Prince. Not us.”

“I see.”

“He had plans to use my powers,” she adds.

“Your powers?” York raises her eyebrows.

Winnie shuffles forward on her seat. “Rhianna’s the girl in the Fourth Prophecy, Stella.” Stella? Since when has Winnie Wence been on first-name terms with the principal? Even I was never awarded that privilege.

“The Fourth Prophecy?” Mrs. Holyhill says, eyeing Rhi with even more interest. “ And she will come again .”

“Queen ?eelfl?d?” York’s gaze remains trained on Rhi. “And why would you suspect that the prophecy refers to Miss Blackwaters?”

Stone turns his palm skyward and sweeps it around us. “There are six of us. Six fated mates. ”

“Hmmm,” Coach Hanks says.

“These things are very unlikely to be genuine. You have no idea how many students I’ve had over the years claim they are fated mates. Infatuation,” the principal’s eyes linger on me, “and lust,” they move on to Barone, “can easily be mistaken for more powerful forces.”

“This is genuine,” I say firmly and Stone and Azlan nod in agreement.

“What do you think, Beryl?” the principal asks, turning back to the Magical History and Politics teacher.

Mrs. Holyhill dips her cookie in her tea and then lifts the sloppy thing into her mouth, chewing as her ancient eyes assess all of us.

“I wonder how you can doubt it. Five fated mates. The Black Prince. Dragons.”

Principal York considers the old teacher and then Rhi. Her eyes are just as intelligent as the old lady’s and even more piercing. I feel like we’re being measured up for some test. I lift my chin and puff out my chest. There’s never been a test I’ve failed to pass.

“Did you find the prophecy?” Winnie asks Rhi and she nods. “What did it say?”

“It wasn’t exactly clear,” Spencer mutters.

“No offense, Spencer,” Winnie replies, “but, erm, could we hear it? What did it say?”

There’s a few minutes of head scratching so I place my tea cup on the floor, clear my throat and repeat the entire verse. A photographic memory can come in handy.

“Oh my gosh,” Winnie says, grinning at Stone. “I was right.”

“Perhaps,” he concedes, repressing a smile.

“Yep,” Rhi says. “I think you are. I think I – we – are the ones who are meant to stop Christopher Kennedy. That’s why I’m here.” She stares off into the distance, squaring her shoulders as she does. “I think this is where it all ends. Where the prophecy is realized.”

“What makes you say that?” I ask her, a shiver racing right down my spine, my bond thrumming.

She turns, her honey eyes bright and alert.

“ Where all must go to learn, ” she says, repeating the line from the prophecy.

“That could be anywhere.”

“Perhaps but I had a dream.”

“A dream?” York says, her brow crinkling.

“A premonition,” Rhi clarifies. “This is the place where it all ends.”

York considers this too, then smoothes down her skirt. “Then we had better prepare.”