CHAPTER 30 - MEDRA

The opening was pitch black. I could see the first two steps, then nothing but darkness.

My heart was hammering. What was I doing? I had no idea where Blake had gone. What I did know was that he wouldn't take kindly to being followed. Especially if he caught me.

He was obviously up to something. Something he didn't want to be caught doing.

My pride was still burning from our encounter in Professor Rodriguez's office. He'd used me. Pried inside my mind as if he had a right to.

It didn't matter that I'd, eventually, managed to do the same thing to him. He'd started it!

I needed leverage over him and something told me now was the time to get it.

I heard a grating sound. There was no time to lose. The opening was starting to close.

Stepping down onto the first stair, I silently prayed the stone slab wouldn't decapitate me as I was halfway down.

The narrow staircase descended steeply. A few seconds after my head had cleared the opening, the stone slab shifted shut.

Inside the stairwell, the air changed immediately, thick with the scent of damp earth and mildewed stone.

The darkness was absolute.

I stumbled a few steps along the way down and caught my hand on the cold wall to steady myself. How the hell had Blake even found his way?

He was used to the dark, I realized. He had done this many times before. The steps were familiar to him. He didn't even need a light.

The steps seemed to go on forever. Each footstep echoed faintly in the deep silence. Just when I thought the darkness might swallow me whole, my foot hit solid ground. Cautiously, I took a few steps forward. Then a few more.

I stumbled, cursing, and nearly pitching headfirst down a second set of steps. Fumbling along the wall, I went down the next flight.

My pulse quickened as I finally glimpsed a glint of light there at the very bottom of the stairs. A torch, mounted to the wall.

The light was my beacon. I moved carefully towards it.

When I finally reached the torch, I could make out the faint outlines of a long, narrow corridor stretching out ahead.

A second torch was barely visible in the distance. I hoped there were more along the way.

The unsettling quiet magnified every sound. The shuffle of my boots on the stone. The faint swish of my cloak.

The silence pressed in on me. I wondered if there were rats down here.

What had Blake been doing down here, so far below the academy? How did he even know about this place?

Abruptly, the corridor opened up. I'd entered a vast chamber, the ceiling vaulting upwards overhead.

A torch flickered on the far wall. I took a few steps forward, then another...

And came face to face with a massive skull hulking out of the darkness.

Hollow eye sockets stared straight through me.

A dragon's skull.

It was enormous.

I don't think I had realized until that moment how large the dragons had been. The sculptures in the Dragon Court were huge, yes, but I'd assumed that was due to artistic license.

Now I was starting to understand the sheer scale of the beasts that had once flown over Sangratha.

No wonder the vampires had adored them. They were fucking terrifying to look at, even in death. I could only imagine how much more daunting one would be in flesh and blood.

The dragon's bone structure was jagged and angular, with ridges along its white skull rising up to form a crown of horns. Sharp, serrated teeth pierced from its gaping mouth, some cracked and crumbling with age, but most still jagged and fierce. They looked as if they could still tear through my flesh.

I reached out a hand cautiously and touched one. Sharp. I drew my hand back as if I'd broken an unwritten rule by touching the bones of the dead.

Are you seeing all of this? I asked curiously. Can you see? Can you still hear me?

I can. It's strange. I'm close enough to your flesh that I'm getting the visuals, but they're slightly blurred and a little faded. An echo of what you're seeing. She was quiet for a moment. These creatures... They were really something, weren't they?

I'm glad there are none around now, I replied. Can you imagine me actually trying to ride one of these things? If this is its head, I can't imagine how big its body must have been. And those horns... Did they have them all over or just on their heads?

Maybe riders used saddles? Orcades mused. It would certainly have been safer that way.

I don't think there was anything safe about dragon riding, I replied.

As my eyes adjusted, I noticed more corridors branching off from the chamber in which I stood. Over each archway a name was etched in stone. Orphos, Mortis, Avari, and... Drakharrow.

Blake's house.

It was obvious I'd have to choose one of the four. It might as well be the devil I knew.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the Drakharrow corridor.

My eyes darted from side to side. Along the walls were massive alcoves. Each one housed a dragon skull. They varied slightly in shape and size.

All of these dragons must have been Inferni. The red dragons that flew for House Drakharrow. I remembered what Blake had claimed. That the Inferni breed was volatile and unreliable.

If there were still dragons, I'd be stuck riding a red. Flying an Inferni for House Drakharrow.

I thought of the dragon statue I'd climbed. Nyxaris was his name. A Duskdrake. They were the dragons of House Avari.

I wondered if they'd been better-tempered than the Inferni. For the sake of their riders, I hoped so.

I walked slowly along the corridor.

Even in death, these creatures were indomitable. It felt as if they were watching me, their hollow eye sockets fixed on me as I moved through the catacomb, intruding on their graves.

Where were the rest of their bones buried? Or had they been burned? What would it take to burn a dragon? Was it even possible?

A rustling sound startled me. I looked down just in time to see a rat scurrying along the floor. I pressed my lips together to stifle a scream, my heart hammering in my ribs.

It's only a rat, my mother said mildly.

Oh, and you had a lot of contact with rats in your life, did you? I shuddered. Rats. I hate rats .

The corridor was beginning to widen as I walked.

Soon, I could see moonlight spilling in from outside. I ran towards it.

The passageway had opened to a view of the sea.

As I walked along the open corridor, I began to notice caves and openings dotting the cliffside ahead.

These must have once been dragon lairs. Or nests.

The knowledge hit me like a wave. Dragons had lived once. Truly lived. Mated and had their children here in this place.

Bloodwing Academy had not just been dominated by highbloods back then. It had been a place for riders to come and to learn and study. And they had brought their dragons with them.

I felt a strange pang of sorrow. A sense of loneliness I hadn't anticipated. A few hundred years ago and I could have been attending Bloodwing with fellow riders. People like me.

Now here I was, alone.

I had friends, I reminded myself. Florence and Naveen. Even Vaughn, if I could still call him that.

But there was a difference between them and I. Almost as much of one as there was between blightborn and highbloods.

I shook my head, trying to clear my mind. Blake had a head start and I had no idea if he had even come this way. But I kept walking, following the trail until I reached another staircase, this one leading back underground.

I hesitated for a moment, then descended the steps. This stairwell was even more narrow than the others had been. The air was colder here, the walls slick with moisture.

As I walked, the passage grew more cramped, the ceiling lowered, and the darkness felt more oppressive. My hands were coated with damp slime from trailing them along the walls. I wiped them on my cloak.

The stairs bottomed out and I walked along a crooked tunnel.

We were beneath the sea.

The restrictiveness of the small stifling space nagged at me, but I pressed on.

After what felt like hours, I finally reached another set of steps. Fortunately, these ones led upwards.

I mounted them gratefully, my legs burning from the effort as I ascended. The stale air of the tunnel gave way to something fresher.

At the top of the steps, I stood on a landing. A wooden ladder led to a hatch over my head, like one that might be found in a cellar.

I climbed the ladder and pressed my ear against the wood of the hatch, straining to hear. The faint murmur of voices drifted down and the sound of music, light and lively.

I pressed the hatch open and was greeted with a wave of rich scents. Ale and herbs. Garlic and rosemary.

It was a storeroom. Kegs of ale and crates of bottles of liquor were stacked in corners, while bundles of herbs hung from the rafters. Root vegetables were piled in sacks and stacked in wooden crates on high shelves.

The voices and laughter grew louder as I slipped into the room and closed the hatch softly behind me.

Slowly, I opened the door leading out of the storeroom just a crack and peeked out.

I blinked as a warm light spilled inwards.

A tavern. Much larger than I'd expected. Bustling and bright. Cozy in its disorderliness.

I caught the scent of spilled ale, roasting chicken, and freshly baked bread mixed with the faintest hint of pipe smoke. The sound of laughter and conversation floated toward me. Someone was playing a harp over in the corner. A lighthearted song that made my feet twitch.

My eyes roamed over the room. Besides a bar lined with stools, the room was filled with round tables and chairs, most of them full of patrons. The walls were lined with bookshelves, every inch crammed full of books. Some patrons stood by the shelves, holding volumes in their hands or searching the shelves.

I watched as a man wearing a pointed red hat went up to the bar and requested a room. The place doubled as an inn then, as well as a bookstore. Tripled?

I scanned the crowd of people but there was no sign of Blake, though I did see a few people who looked like they might be highbloods. He could have slipped into any of the adjoining rooms or disappeared up the flight of stairs leading to the guest rooms.

I gnawed on my lip. Maybe I should have felt frustrated. But instead I felt surprisingly free. I was here now. Why not explore?

Presumably this was Veilmar. I had never even seen the city. We had skirted around its edges on that first day Blake had found me.

There was just one problem. My hair.

I quickly shut the storage room door, then pulled my hair into a tight knot and wound a strip of black ribbon around it, making sure no strands of telltale red were left dangling over my face. When that was done, I pulled up the hood of my cloak.

I waited until no one was around, then slipped out of the storeroom, pulling the door shut behind me.

The wooden floor beneath my feet creaked softly but the sound was lost in the buzz of noise from the tavern.

I moved across the room, then paused. A group of students, all highbloods, sat around a table, laughing and jesting among themselves. It was past midnight on a school night. Perhaps they were Third or Fourth Years who had been granted special privileges from Headmaster Kim.

Or perhaps they'd just snuck out, like I had.

I grinned to myself as I headed for the door. I was eager to see the city. Eager to see the real Sangratha. A place that wasn't full of highbloods.

I should have known nothing would be as I'd hoped.

As I stepped out of the inn, the first thing that caught my eye were the children.

They were huddled against the walls of the buildings across the street. They were dirty and their clothes were tattered and threadbare.

My stomach twisted as I saw the signs they held.

"Need Blood?"

"Feed on me please."

"Blood for Sale. Cheap."

The signs were misspelled, scrawled in messy and sometimes illegible lettering.

My breath caught in my throat as I saw how young some of the children were. The smallest couldn't have been more than five. Her face was streaked with dirt and tears as she huddled next to an older girl.

There was a movement to my right. I watched in stunned silence as a highblood emerged from the shadows of an alley. He moved silently towards the oldest boy in the group of children, who must have been about twelve. The boy shot to his feet without hesitation, his sign dropping to the ground as he wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve.

Eagerly, he took the highblood's outstretched hand. Together, they disappeared down the street.

Disgust roiled in my gut. This world was so broken.

"Sad, ain't it?"

I turned sharply. A woman had come out of the inn behind me. She leaned against one of the wooden poles along the inn's porch, a half-empty mug of ale dangling loosely from her hand.

She hiccuped and covered her mouth.

I glanced back at the children, unable to keep the horror from my voice. "Why are they out here? Shouldn't they be home?"

"Poor mites haven't got no homes, do they? Parents are dead, most like." She glanced around furtively. "Killed, you know. There's been more killings of late."

My heart sped up. "What do you mean? What sort of killings?"

The woman was too much in her cups to wonder about my ignorance.

" Murders ," she said, drawing the word out with relish. "The blood drained from each and every one."

"So highbloods killed them?" Of course. Why wasn't I surprised?

"Highbloods?" The woman's eyes widened. "Who said anything about highbloods? Of course not! What a strange thing to say."

I gaped. "But you said their blood was drained. Who else but a highblood would have done that?"

The woman laughed nervously. "Why, a mad man. Or woman, for that matter. A murderer. Who knows why they do the sick things they do? Killing for fun. Horrible, ain't it?"

"You're telling me," I said slowly. "That there have been a number of murders in which the victims have been exsanguinated–"

The woman looked at me blankly.

I rolled my eyes. "It means drained of one's blood," I explained. "The victims have been exsanguinated but no one will consider that a highblood most likely did it?"

The woman's face took on a skittish expression. "The highbloods wouldn't do such a horrid thing. They're our protectors." She pointed. "I pray at the Temple of the Blessed Bloodmaid every day, you know. And you should, too." She looked down her nose at me. "Saying such things could get you into a heap of trouble. We don't speak that way about highbloods. No siree." She shook her head and belched again.

"Do all blightborn feel the way you do about the highbloods?" I asked, as I stared at her. In other words, were they all this stupid or was this poor woman the exception?

Her eyes widened as if she couldn't believe I was bothering to ask. "Why, of course they do." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then recited, "We serve the blood, we serve the line. The highbloods lead, by right divine. In blood we trust, in grace we stand. The highbloods guide us, hand in hand."

My jaw must have dropped a little because when she opened her eyes she gave me a disapproving frown. "All little children learn the verses. Have you forgotten your Creeds of Faith?"

I licked my lips. "My parents weren't particularly religious."

"Not religious?" She looked horrified. "I don't know what that even means. Are you saying you didn't go to the temple? Didn't make a blood offering every name day?" She started to back away. "What a strange girl," she said, sounding uneasy.

"Yes, well, goodnight to you, too," I called sarcastically, as she darted back inside the inn.

I looked up and saw the sign that creaked in the night breeze above the door.

The Wandering Page.

Was this one of Blake's hangouts? Had he even come this way? For all I knew there were multiple ways off the island. Maybe each house had a secret passageway of their own. Would I run into Catherine Mortis or Kage Tanaka next?

My stomach plummeted as I thought of something awful. Had Blake come here to feed ? Had he stepped out of The Wandering Page and grabbed a child, just like that other highblood man had done?

No. Blake Drakharrow might have been many other horrible things but he wouldn't harm a child. I had to believe that. Didn't I?

But he does need to feed , my mother's voice said from my boot.

Oh, you're still here, are you?

You get sarcastic when you're worrying about something, you know.

I had no idea, I said. Thanks for telling me .

Of course, my dear. You know, I might come in handy tonight. There's something to be said for having something sharp with you as you walk down dark streets alone.

She was right. That didn't mean I'd be taking her with me everywhere from now on.

Consider this a special occasion, I said. I felt a twinge of guilt. We'll figure out a way to free you fully soon. I swear it.

Of course, we will , she said with false cheer. I have no doubt of that.

I looked around. It was growing late and I had no idea where to go next. My eagerness to explore Veilmar had dissipated.

I glanced at the children again. I longed to do something to help them. But what? I couldn't exactly smuggle them back to my rooms.

Did Florence know about their existence? Had she grown up seeing beggar children like these and simply become jaded to the idea of children selling their blood?

Something brushed against my leg and I jumped. I looked down, half-expecting to see another rat.

"You!"

It was the fluffin.

"Did you follow me?" I demanded. My eyes narrowed. "You're a sneaky little thing, aren't you?"

The fluffin gave a happy little yap, then wagged his fluffy tail and ran a little ways ahead of me. He barked again.

"You want me to follow you?" I put my hands on my hips. "Is this where you've been sneaking off to? Florence is going to have a conniption when she finds out."

Are we really about to follow this dog? My mother inquired, sounding half-amused, half-curious.

Unless you have a better idea, we are, indeed, about to follow the dog , I said with a sigh, starting to follow the fluffin down the street. And it's called a fluffin. You already know that.

I do, but I'm not about to use such a ridiculous name , Orcades said with a sniff. It resembles a dog and so a dog is what I will call it.

I sighed. I believe it's more like a fox mixed with an owl. Let us simply resign ourselves to the absurdity of this situation and make the best of it.

I ran to cath up with the fluffin.

The cobbled streets of the city shone as the moon rose higher overhead, the stones slick with moisture from the nearby sea. I followed the little creature, weaving through winding alleys and side streets, the noise from The Wandering Page fading behind us.

After a while, we began to enter a new part of the city.

A seedier part. The street lamps were more scarce here, and what light they cast was dim.

The further we went, the more the city seemed to decay. The buildings were older here, their stone facades crumbling or their wooden slats covered with peeling paint. Figures slumped in shadowy doorways, eyes following me with suspicion or indifference.

The fluffin trotted on without hesitation, a tiny spark of color in an otherwise dark place.

My senses prickled with unease. I could have picked up the fluffin and gone back the way we'd come, returning to Bloodwing.

Or could I? I wasn't completely sure I could find the way.

Finally, the fluffin stopped, sitting on his haunches across from a building that stood out amongst the others.

The windows were aglow with dancing red candles. A wooden sign hung above the door, its red paint faded but still legible: The Drained Rose. There was a picture of a flower, a rose presumably, painted below the words.

The red candles, the name...

Outside, several blightborn were lounging casually, cups and goblets held loosely in their hands. Most were leaning against highbloods–each one beautiful and seeming utterly indifferent to their tawdry surroundings. One of the blightborn, a young man of my age, was laughing drunkenly, his hand caressing the arm of a highblood woman who was whispering something in his ear.

Another blightborn girl, perhaps twenty or so, stood silently near the door, her gaze vacant as a highblood man trailed his fingers down her neck, looking at her hungrily.

I felt a wave of revulsion. This was a blood brothel.

I stared at the blightborn with morbid curiosity. Was this really a choice? Or was it desperation like with the children I'd seen?

The fluffin had sat down patiently by my feet. Now he jumped up and made a yapping sound.

"Hush," I whispered. But my eyes followed the direction the fluffin was looking.

Blake Drakharrow was coming along the street towards the brothel from the opposite way. And he wasn't alone. Professor Rodriguez was walking beside him.

The two men were deep in conversation. They seemed to be arguing. I slunk back into the shadow of the building so they wouldn't see me.

I couldn't hear them from this distance, but the tension in Rodriguez's face was unmistakable. He gestured sharply at Blake, his voice low but intense.

My mind whirled. What could they possibly be arguing about? Rodriguez was obviously tutoring Blake in thrallguard. He'd trusted him enough to have the older student fill in for him as my tutor.

But this wasn't the place for a thrallguard lesson. Why were they really here?

I inched forward slightly and was considering stepping out and confronting them when Rodriguez suddenly peeled away and stormed off down the street.

Blake remained where he was. He watched Rodriguez leave but didn't seem perturbed.

After a moment, he rolled his shoulders, adjusted the cuffs of his black jacket, and headed for the entrance of The Drained Rose.

I looked down at the fluffin. My mind screamed at me to turn back but something stronger was pulling me forward.

I'd come all this way. I wasn't about to turn back now.

"Wait for me here," I whispered to the fluffin. "Can you do that?"

The fluffin looked up at me from his large owl-like eyes and gave a soft yip.

"Is that a yes? I won't be able to find my way back without you, you know," I whispered.

Do you expect the animal to actually answer you? my mother asked incredulously.

I ignored her. Pulse drumming in my ears, I headed for the door of The Drained Rose.