CHAPTER 11 - MEDRA

The ghost of my dead mother is riding around in my head, I seethed, as I walked towards the headmaster's office.

Not dead, the woman corrected. I'm talking to you right now, aren't I? Let's say... betwixt and between.

Externally, I rolled my eyes. So, half-dead.

Orcades. That was her name. Orcades Le Fay. Then, Orcades Pendragon after she'd married my father, Arthur. I supposed I should start thinking of her that way.

Apparently, I was merely scattered when I died birthing you, Orcades continued. But my soul hadn't fully departed Aercanum. When you died–well, when you were meant to die–I found you...

And inserted yourself into my head, I said frostily.

A part of my soul lodged in you to keep you safe, she clarified . I wasn't even doing it consciously. I was able to help you pass from one world to another, with your own soul and body still intact. A pause. I'm still not sure precisely how I did it. But it was a wondrous accomplishment. I doubt many have ever achieved something similar.

I could practically feel her preening.

Couldn't you have picked my own world? I complained ungraciously. Couldn't you have just brought me back there? Where my friends and family were?

Well, no, if it was that easy, I would have. Think of your soul like a ball spinning out of control and straight into danger–into nothingness. I grabbed hold of you and, well, tossed you out of danger. But I didn't get a chance to look at exactly where you would land.

I was a spinning ball, I groaned. I see. What a lovely way to think of your own daughter.

Oh, pish posh. I could almost imagine her waving a perfectly manicured fae hand. A ball, a flower. However you wish to imagine yourself, you were impossible to control. I'd never done this before, remember. I did what I could. I did my best.

She had a point, I had to admit.

Fine. I mentally cleared my throat. Well, in that case... Thank you. Though it would have been much better if you'd chosen a world without vampires, I couldn't help adding.

Yes, I can see that, she said thoughtfully. But of course, I had no idea there would be vampires here. Perhaps you should look at it as a fascinating challenge.

A challenge? My eyes narrowed dangerously and a student coming towards me squeaked in alarm and jumped to the other side.

You'll survive and thrive. I have no doubt about it. Once you get your bearings. And once you make friends with that other girl–the powerful one.

Regan? I snorted derisively. No, that's not going to happen.

If you could win her over, she could be a powerful ally. And after all, you're going to be sharing a...

No, no, no. Let me stop you right there. There will be absolutely no sharing. No nothing. I thought of something. Oh, gods. We need to get you out of my head. Soon.

You're just realizing it, aren't you? She sounded sympathetic. I promise I won't be present should anything happen between you and... well, anyone else. In a romantic way.

I felt sick to my stomach. You certainly won't be because we are ending this disturbing situation as soon as possible.

She sighed. Medra, you silly girl, I'm your mother. I have absolutely no interest in... Well, you know. Being a Peeping Tom. I'll simply be happy that you are happy. When that delightful time comes.

I don't think we should speak about it anymore, I said. Or ever again. Ever. Now tell me how to get you out.

Well, I'm not really sure about that part. Perhaps there is no way.

I stopped in my tracks and a girl walking behind me ran into me.

There has to be a way, I hissed internally, after apologizing to the girl. There is always a way. Haven't you proven that by bringing me back from the brink of death? And bringing part of your own soul with me? None of that is supposed to be possible. And yet here we are.

Why not try it this way for a while? We could make a formidable team, she countered. You would benefit from my wisdom.

I'd rather benefit from it in another way. Preferably without you right here in my head, I said, clenching my jaw.

Oh, very well. She sighed forlornly. Well, I suppose you could start by consulting some ancient books. Or some wise person.

A book? A wise person? You sound as if you've been reading too many fairy tales . I could feel my panic mounting. Are those really your only suggestions?

Well, did you really expect me to have an answer for you? I've already said I don't even know if it's possible, she reminded me.

Beginning with books isn't a terrible idea, I said grudgingly.

Bloodwing was sure to have an impressive library. Maybe the answer was waiting for me there. Could it really be that easy?

I turned another corner, this one lined with arched windows overlooking the sea. It was a calm day. A warm autumn breeze blew in, smelling of brine.

This wasn't how I imagined meeting you, I said.

I suppose that makes two of us, Orcades replied. But I'm glad I had the chance. Even if it's in this very strange way. Daughter.

I was quiet for a moment. Not because I had nothing to say. But because suddenly tears were pricking the corners of my eyes.

She had died giving birth to me.

I could still remember the first time my mentor, Odessa, had told me what my mother's final words had been.

Orcades had called me the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. And considering that, as a high fae, her life had been incredibly long, I supposed that was saying something.

So am I, I said finally.

I stopped. There. I'd reached the headmaster's office. No one was outside.

I knocked on the door.

"Enter." I was surprised to hear a woman's voice.

I pushed open the heavy oak door and stepped inside. I'd entered an antechamber. The room was sparsely furnished and meticulously neat.

A pretty blightborn woman sat behind a mahogany desk. Her skin was dark brown and flawless, her lips painted a deep crimson. She was young, maybe only a few years older than me. Her eyes were calm, almost vacant, as if detached from her surroundings.

A pinprick of red on the side of her neck caught my eye. Then two tiny holes. Barely noticeable unless you were looking for it. Fang marks.

The realization hit me: the headmaster had fed from her. She wasn't just a school secretary. She was his thrall.

The young woman gestured to the door behind her. "He's expecting you. Go right in."

I nodded.

As I stepped forward, my gaze snagged on the far wall. It was lined with six painted portraits. Written above in gold letters was a sign that read "Bloodwing Board of Directors."

I scanned the names on the placards beneath the paintings quickly. Only one was familiar.

Natsumi Avari. Could this be Kage Tanaka's mother? Natsumi's long, white-blonde hair framed her face. She had dark, angular eyes–beautiful but stern. Her expression radiated a cold elegance, as though she saw every detail but was unimpressed by it all.

I turned away and opened the door to the headmaster's inner office.

Headmaster Kim sat behind a carved wooden desk. The four pedestals holding the desk up depicted, rather grotesquely in my opinion, four naked women, their faces frozen in ecstasy as they licked blood from their lips. The wood was dark and polished to a gleam.

"Miss Pendragon. Please, sit," Headmaster Kim commanded, his voice frosty. I felt the weight of his eyes on me as I complied, taking a seat in one of the two plain wooden chairs that had been arranged before the desk.

The headmaster, draped in dark robes trimmed with crimson, looked me over. I tried to appear nonchalant. But in truth, I was unsettled. The secretary. The carvings. These were some of the first blatant signs of vampirism I had seen within the school, and in the headmaster's office no less. I would have been lying if I didn't admit they frightened me. After all, yesterday this man had been in my head. Sure, he'd been trying to stop Regan and prevent me from making an utter fool of myself. That didn't change the fact he had invaded me as easily as she had.

The headmaster steepled his hands over the desk. "I understand you had quite an interesting first day at Bloodwing."

"You might say that," I replied. "I certainly made a fool of myself in more ways than one."

He surprised me by smiling slightly. "Would you like to tell me who was responsible for the mishaps?"

I remained silent.

"Surely you have some idea of who sabotaged your schedule," he encouraged. "Or at least who used thrallweave on you during the commencement address."

I met his eyes. "No. None at all." I shrugged and leaned back in my chair. "Besides, does it matter?"

He raised his eyebrows. "I'm surprised you don't want retribution."

"Oh, I didn't say that." I smiled coolly. "But isn't that the point of Bloodwing? To be ruthless? I paid attention to your speech. The way I see it is, whoever sabotaged me yesterday was doing exactly what you taught them to do."

"That's certainly one way of looking at it. What an interesting specimen you are, Miss Pendragon. Few blightborn see vampires so clearly upon their arrival here. Most have rather idealistic notions of what highblood life is like."

"I'm sure they do. But I didn't grow up idolizing vampires. So hopefully I can see you all for exactly what you really are," I said.

Headmaster Kim leaned forward. "And just what is that?"

We looked at one another.

"Powerful," I said at last.

Headmaster Kim opened his mouth but I never did find out just what he would have said, for at that same moment, the door behind me opened and Professor Sankara strode in, a vibrant purple silk robe swirling around him.

"Sorry I'm late, Headmaster." The tall dark man scratched his chin ruefully. "Not a naturally early riser, as you know." He looked over at me and smiled. "Miss Pendragon. Good to see you again."

I couldn't help smiling back. Sebastian Sankara was a vampire just like Headmaster Kim, yes. And yet, there was something that set them apart from each other.

Even though the combat teacher had watched Visha pummel me into the dirt just to see how far things would go, I found myself already on the verge of forgiving him. After all, Odessa had been a tough teacher, too. Not quite that brutal, but I had a feeling she'd have mostly approved of Sankara's methods.

Or was that just the twisted way of Bloodwing? The fact that such brutality between students was already becoming acceptable to me?

"Thank you for joining us, Sebastian. I understand you have some thoughts about Miss Pendragon's curriculum going forward," said Headmaster Kim.

"I do. Advanced Weaponry may have been put on Medra's timetable as a joke but there was nothing funny about how she beat Visha Vaidya in my class yesterday," Professor Sankara said bluntly. "She should be permitted to remain in the class."

Headmaster Kim's brows rose. "It's a second year class."

"It is. And you know how selective I am in admitting only the finest students. Highbloods only and only ones with the real potential to be warriors at that." Sankara glanced at me. I realized I hadn't seen Regan there yesterday. Did that mean she wasn't warrior material? Or was she simply in a different section? "But she's got something. Lord Drakharrow was right to send her here. I've never seen a finer blightborn fighter. With a spear or with her fists."

I gaped at him. A warm feeling spread in my stomach. I hadn't heard praise like that in a long time. Damn, it felt good.

"But she is blightborn," the headmaster insisted. "Not a highblood. Rules are rules."

"As I told Miss Pendragon yesterday, dragon riders used to train alongside highblood warriors. They had to. They'd be fighting side by side. Well, if we want this young woman to have a chance in hell of doing the same someday then we should help her excel in every way we can."

"Perhaps it escaped your notice, Sebastian," said the headmaster mildly. "But Miss Pendragon has no dragon. How could she possibly fight alongside highbloods?"

Sankara shrugged. "I didn't send her here. That was a decision far above my paygrade. But I doubt Miss Pendragon wishes to be useless. Dragonless or not, give her something to do. Something to aspire to." He looked at me. "You want to be able to fight alongside highbloods one day, don't you Medra?"

I stared back at him.

Fight alongside highbloods? No. Fight against highbloods? Absolutely fucking yes. And to do that, I needed to know what they knew. I needed to get as strong as I could.

I'd take any combat training they'd allow me to.

"Of course, I do," I lied. "Absolutely. Yes." I looked at the headmaster and tried to appear as doe-eyed and eager as I could. "Please, sir. I might not have a dragon. But I have a rider's blood. And my blood is yearning to fight. Make me an asset. Let me be a student Bloodwing can be proud of. After all, Lord Drakharrow himself sent me here. He obviously wants me to learn everything I can, right?"

If Headmaster Kim had been preparing to refuse, my mention of Lord Drakharrow seemed to do the trick.

He frowned. "Fine. Miss Pendragon may officially remain in Advanced Weaponry. But she'll need to complete the basic combat training with the other blightborn students as well. She's not excused from that."

"That's fine," Professor Sankara said quickly. "That class is light weapons and hand-to-hand combat. It'll be a good contrast. She should get all the practice she can." To me, he added, "You might be tired some days. You'll be getting a good workout. Two hours of combat class a day most days as the term goes on. Sometimes more when I keep you late. But you don't mind that, do you?"

I shook my head. "Not at all. I like going to bed exhausted. It means I've worked as hard as I could."

It was sort of true. The more exhausted I was, the less time I also had to feel sorry for myself. To miss the world I'd left behind. To think about the people I'd never see. I'd rather go to sleep bloody-nosed and dirty and worn out than lie there, sleepless and anxious, thinking about things I had no way of changing.

Or worse, conversing with my mother.

I'm still here, you know, she reminded me.

I ignored her.

Loud voices suddenly came from outside the room.

The door behind us banged open for a second time, this time with more force as it slammed against the wall. Professor Sankara and I both turned to see who had come in.

Professor Rodriguez stood in the doorframe, breathing hard, his worn leather satchel swinging haphazardly by his side. His dark hair was even messier than yesterday. It looked as if it hadn't seen a comb in a week. His trousers had, if anything, even more patches than the ones he had been wearing the day before. Rodriguez, I decided, needed to ask for a raise. Perhaps blightborn teachers weren't paid as well as highblood ones. Could that be it?

"Good morning, Gabriel. Was there something you urgently needed?" The headmaster's voice was cool. It was clear he was not impressed by the interruption.

"As I tried to tell your secretary, Headmaster, I have some input to give at this meeting as well," Professor Rodriguez snapped, apparently not put off by Headmaster Kim's lukewarm reception.

Rodriguez seemed to notice Professor Sankara seated beside me for the first time.

The two men's eyes met, just for a heartbeat, but something passed between them. Professor Rodriguez's fierce expression faltered for the briefest moment, a hint of color rising to his cheeks.

He cleared his throat. "Sorry, I didn't realize Sebastian was already here." Then he frowned. "But actually, no, if Sankara was invited then I'm not sure why I wasn't."

"Professor Sankara had relevant input to give regarding one of Miss Pendragon's classes," the headmaster replied, clearly trying to keep his temper. "As you can see, not all of Miss Pendragon's professors are present. Professor Hassan is notably absent. We are sorting out Miss Pendragon's curriculum this morning and I did not think every teacher at Bloodwing needed to be in attendance."

"As you should be," Rodriguez said. "Sorting it out, I mean. And that's where I come in. We all witnessed Pendragon's little debacle yesterday afternoon, didn't we? Or else heard of it."

I flushed. I had no doubt the whole school would be talking about it today and laughing in my face.

"Many students have thrallweave used on them inappropriately from time to time, Rodriguez." Headmaster Kim waved a hand dismissively. "A childish prank. If that's all this is about..."

"It's not," Rodriguez interrupted. "Though, from what I saw, it's a wonder Miss Pendragon didn't die. You got into her head, too, didn't you, Kim? Tried to stop whoever was using her? Told her to get down immediately? And then she jumped off the top of the dragon's head?"

Headmaster Kim said nothing.

"Just as I thought," Rodriguez said, sounding satisfied. "She's ridiculously susceptible. She's a danger to herself and to others. Do you really want your only dragon rider pupil killing herself because some jealous highblood student tells her to? I'm sure Viktor Drakharrow would love to hear that his nephew's consort died in her very first week of class."

I could see the headmaster beginning to bristle.

"And don't tell me there are no dragons so it doesn't matter," Rodriguez added before the headmaster could speak. "We all know Viktor..."

"Lord Drakharrow," the headmaster interrupted.

"Yes, yes. Lord Drakharrow. We all know Lord Drakharrow has a bee in his bonnet about getting the dragons back. He won't accept that they're gone forever. And now that this girl has appeared, he certainly won't take keenly to her being lost as soon as she's found." Rodriguez paused his tirade, still breathing hard. "Does he even know? Lord Drakharrow, I mean. That Miss Pendragon was gravely injured multiple times on her very first day?"

"She was not gravely injured in my class, Gabriel," Professor Sankara said, with a frown. "Some small injuries are typical for Advanced Weaponry." I thought of my broken ribs and nose but said nothing. "She held her own."

"Really, Sebastian?" Rodriguez raised a dark eyebrow. "I wasn't expecting denial from your quarter. From what I hear, Miss Pendragon's nose was broken and she had to be escorted through the halls by Blake Drakharrow lest the highblood first years swarm her and make her their feast."

"Blake Drakharrow is her betrothed. Who else would you have had escort her?" Sankara said, looking baffled.

Rodriguez glanced at me. He was the last person I'd expected to find as an ally. And yet... here he was. It was strange.

"How would you help me, Professor?" I asked, speaking up for the first time since his arrival. "I didn't think there was anything to do about the thrallweave."

"Ah, but that's where you're mistaken," Rodriguez said triumphantly. "Every spell has a counterspell. And thrallweave, though it's taken as innate vampire magic, is still a spell–though one frequently believed species-specific. It is, in fact, not species-specific. Non-highbloods can master thrallweave..."

"You're saying blightborn can work thrallweave?" the headmaster interrupted, his face credulous. "Impossible."

"Not impossible. With diligence and hard work it can be done. Though very few mortals have an aptitude for such magic, it's true," Rodriguez replied. "In fact, we used to teach such a class here. It was offered to highbloods and select blightborn. Secondary Level Thrallweave, I believe it was called."

"And I suppose you're one, are you, Gabriel?" Professor Sankara's interest seemed genuine. "Have you mastered thrallweave? How very impressive. But then, I'd expect nothing less from you."

Professor Rodriguez flushed a little just above his worn collar. "I haven't, no. Not really." I got the distinct impression he was lying. "But I do have experience with the opposite. Thrallguard."

"Thrallguard?" I burst out, unable to contain my excitement. "Is that what it sounds like?'

"It's a defense against thrallweave." He looked at the headmaster. "One which every dragon rider used to receive proficient training in."

"That was long ago," the headmaster said.

"True. But I'm sure Lord Drakharrow would like his pet rider–" I bristled but said nothing. "To receive every possible educational opportunity that the riders of old had," Rodriguez said.

"You're suggesting you train Miss Pendragon is this thrallguard spell?" the headmaster said. "Professor Sankara has just successfully argued that she should take his Advanced Weaponry class. With that plus her regular classes and study periods, I'm afraid Miss Pendragon will have enough on her plate."

"I'd be happy to add another class, Headmaster," I said quickly. "Maybe I could replace one of my other less suitable classes, like Restoration? Or I could go during lunchtime or after classes are finished. I'd put in the work. Whatever was needed. I swear I would."

"She sounds enthusiastic to me, Headmaster," Sankara said with a grin. "Little wonder. If there's a student out there so determined to do her harm that they had her climb one of the dragons during your speech, then who knows what they might try next? Perhaps Rodriguez is right and it's not such a bad idea. Just a little unusual."

"Unusual, yes, but I do have other pupils. She wouldn't be the first," Rodriguez said quickly.

"Your first and foremost duty is to teach the classes you've been assigned, Gabriel," the headmaster said coldly. "Not to facilitate your own side projects."

Rodriguez colored. "Of course. Which I do. But school rules stipulate a professor is allowed to hold private sessions. And I do this for a few select pupils. You might be surprised to know that so far, all have been highbloods."

I watched as Professor Sankara and the headmaster looked at one another.

"Not as surprised as you might think," the headmaster muttered finally.

"I suppose it makes sense that some of our elite students would want to be able to guard against the use of thrallweave," Sankara agreed. "After all, the most dangerous enemy a highblood can face is another highblood."

My heart was beating fast. It sounded as if this "thrallguard" was something only the most elite highblood students could afford to take private lessons in. And it also sounded like Professor Rodriguez was one of the only non-vampires who knew how to teach it. If not the only one in the entire school.

I wondered how he had wound up so skilled in thrallguard himself. But I wasn't about to ask. Not in front of Headmaster Kim.

"Paranoia," the headmaster said dismissively. "Highbloods rarely use thrallweave upon one another. Most of the time it doesn't have a high success rate."

"Yes, but when it does..." Sankara shrugged. "When the great houses have been at war with one another, having a highblood from another house under your power could be the tipping point between victory or defeat. Enthralled highbloods make powerful spies."

"As did thrallweaved riders," Rodriguez pointed out. "And Miss Pendragon is the only rider in existence. The only rider blood in Sangratha. What if one of the great houses tried to steal her away from Bloodwing? You know Lord Drakharrow has many enemies."

Headmaster Kim and Professor Sankara exchanged another look.

"That is true," the headmaster said finally. "Very well. You may train her in this art. I'll permit it."

I wanted to clap my hands together in glee but restrained myself. Learn how to block Regan and her coercive attacks? Yes, please. Perhaps, eventually, I could even figure out how to teach this skill to other students, like Florence and Naveen.

"Excellent. You're making the right decision. Miss Pendragon seems a quick study. I'm sure she'll catch on fast. And then she'll be much safer at Bloodwing. We want her to be competitive with the highblood students, after all, don't we?" Professor Rodriguez said confidently.

I raised an eyebrow at him. Was he really going to sing my praises after how furious he'd been at me just the day before? But it didn't matter. I was just grateful he'd shown up and made this offer.

Over the next half-hour, we finalized the rest of my timetable. Then Headmaster Kim rose to his feet. "I have a meeting with some of the board members in a few minutes. I'm afraid we'll have to wrap things up."

"Of course," Professor Sankara said. "Miss Pendragon, I'll see you at our next class."

He swept out of the room, his long purple robe trailing behind him.

"I'll escort Miss Pendragon to the refectory," Professor Rodriguez offered. "Breakfast is still being served. She can grab something before her next class and I'll set up a time to begin her training."

"I'll have an updated timetable delivered to you later this morning," Headmaster Kim told me as he hastened from the room.

I followed Professor Rodriguez out into the hall. Now that it was past eight-thirty, the corridors were bustling with students moving towards the refectory or heading towards class early.

"What was that in there?" I asked, after we'd taken a few steps away from the headmaster's office.

Rodriguez glanced at me. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." I tried to say it in the right way. "You were furious at me yesterday. Suddenly you're showing up to save me? I don't understand."

He frowned. "I might object to you personally. That doesn't mean I wish you physical harm."

"How kind of you." I risked rolling my eyes. "Does that mean I still have to write that essay?"

He looked amused. "Yes."

"But you think what Regan did to me was wrong?"

"So it was Miss Pansera. Interesting. I figured as much."

"Shit," I muttered. "I didn't mean to say that."

He looked over at me. "Did you tell the headmaster?"

I shook my head. "Why bother? I highly doubt she'd get in trouble for it. She's a highblood, right? Do they even punish them?"

Now he really looked amused. "You've caught on pretty fast considering it's only your second day." He pursed his lips. "So Miss Pansera told you to ask me about dragons and healers, huh?"

"Shit," I said again. "Please don't say anything to anyone. Clearly you were already well aware she was a huge bitch. Look, I just want to move past this. If I have to do the essay and clean your storeroom, fine. I get it."

"You have to do the essay because it'll teach you things you ought to know. As for the storeroom..." Rodriguez ran his hands through his hair. "You might not have time for that now," he conceded. "We'll see. It already looks better than it did before, in any case."

"Do you really tutor other highbloods in how to guard against thrallweave?" I asked, curious.

"I do," he replied. "But not many know it's something I offer. So, few know to ask. And that's how I'd like to keep it. I'd prefer you not share the information."

"I understand." I hesitated, then added, "I really appreciate you offering to teach me. When she was in my head... It was horrible."

"It's a grotesque violation, that's what it is. It's something that should never be used. Especially by one student on another. But Bloodwing permits it. They look the other way when it's merely a blightborn student being humiliated." Rodriguez shook his head angrily. "Usually the highbloods keep themselves somewhat in check. But every year..." He paused as we passed a group of chattering First Years.

"Every year?" I prompted, once they were gone.

His face hardened. "Every year someone dies."