CHAPTER 45 - MEDRA

The night's horrors weren't over. Not even close.

I followed Blake through the darkened tunnels, my mind racing. I kept my eyes on his back, unable to shake the memory of the girl's lifeless body hanging over the silver bowl.

I had so many more questions I wanted answers to. But before I could confront him again, we'd somehow reached the First Year tower and a new kind of chaos descended upon us.

The ball had ended hours ago and so I had expected the Common Room to be deserted. Instead it was filled with people, most of them looking frightened and panicked.

"Medra!" Florence's voice sliced through the noise as she ran towards me. "Where have you been?" She grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me into a hug. "I was so worried about you."

She barely glanced at Blake, her attention locked on me. Before I could answer, she continued, "It's one of the housekeeper's children! A little girl. Poppy. She's gone missing. Professor Rodriguez is organizing search parties."

Sure enough, I caught sight of the dark-haired faculty member in the center of the crowd, his face haggard as he pointed at students and barked orders.

I blinked, suddenly feeling exhausted and disoriented. "What do you mean she's gone? She's a child. Maybe she just wandered off."

I thought of all the times I had gone sneaking around the castle in Camelot, without a word to my poor nurse.

"No, you don't understand." Florence's gentle voice shook. "There was blood. On her pillow."

Blood. My stomach churned, the memories of the rite surging through me like a flood wave.

The servants at Bloodwing were all blightborn, of course. They mostly worked at night, while we students were asleep. They lived in the lower reaches of the castle. We hardly ever saw them. Their children mostly lived away from them, attending blightborn schools in Veilmar. But I knew many had come home for the Frostfire Festival, to celebrate with their families.

These were humble people, just doing their jobs while we–the privileged students, and yes, I included myself in that category for once–attended our classes at the academy.

Their children should have been safe. They were innocent.

I thought of the soft patter of blood filling the silver bowl and shivered.

It was happening again. Now. Here. Tonight. This time to an innocent child.

Panic swelled in my throat.

I turned slowly to Blake.

His face had gone even paler than usual. His expression was grim. "I have to go."

"Where?" I demanded, stepping in front of him. I glimpsed the look of surprise on Florence's face. "You can't just leave. Not now."

His jaw clenched, his eyes darting towards the entrance. "I have to find out what's going on."

"You know something, don't you?" I said accusingly, lowering my voice. "You're not leaving me behind. If you know something, tell me. I'm coming with you."

"This isn't a fucking game," he growled. I sensed his frustration. And beneath it, fear. "Stay here. Where it's safe."

I tilted my face up towards him stubbornly. "You want me to stay quiet about tonight? Then I'm coming with you. If you know where that girl is, I'm coming."

Florence was watching us, her brown eyes wide. I tried to give her a reassuring smile.

Blake glanced at her. I knew he was wondering if she'd overheard.

"Pendragon is coming with me," Blake said, his voice gentler than usual as he looked at my friend. "I'll bring her back to you soon."

Florence pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose, then nodded slowly.

I touched her arm briefly, before I followed Blake out of the tower and back into the hall.

There was no doubt in my mind that he knew exactly where he was going.

He led us to the Dragon Court again, his pace much quicker than before. As we slipped down into the passageway, he strode ahead with purpose.

When we reached the vast chamber with the massive dragon skull at its center, the imposing stone doorways marked with the four house names loomed ahead.

Blake paused, nostrils flaring, as if he were tracking something elusive in the air. He tilted his head slightly, sniffing like an animal.

Then with a low grunt of recognition, he strode into the passage marked Avari.

My heart raced. Did this have something to do with Kage?

Blake's speed left no room for my questions. He moved through the Avari dragon catacombs without a word and I followed as quickly as I could, trying not to lose sight of him. I knew he was already holding himself back so I could keep up.

This time, when we reached the end of the dragon tombs, the passageway led straight down. We descended steep staircase after staircase, delving down into the earth itself.

At first, the stairways were plain stone. Then their style began to change, shifting into a different kind of architecture, nothing like anything I'd seen at Bloodwing. These stairways seemed even older than the academy itself.

The stairs ended and we entered a new passage. Some of it had collapsed almost entirely, stone crumbling into dust and rubble.

Blake climbed over large fallen stones, then reached back for my hand without a word, guiding me through the narrow gaps.

Each time his hand grazed my skin, I trembled. Whether from fear or revulsion or something else, who could say?

The tunnels opened onto a vast space. The remnants of once-grand architecture surrounded us, cracked and crumbling but still awe-inspiring in their craftsmanship. Panels of gold and glittering green stones shone from buildings stretching upwards twenty or thirty feet or more.

My breath hitched. Dwarven ruins. Magnificent and lost to time.

I felt like an intruder in a forgotten world. Did anyone else even know these were here?

As we walked through the ruins, a sound broke the stillness.

A girl's high-pitched giggle, eerie and out of place.

A sharp, terrified scream followed. It sounded as if it had come from a much younger-sounding child.

My blood ran cold.

Blake's reaction was swift. He ran forward toward the sounds.

I chased after him and we ran through crumbling streets until we reached another open area, surrounded by half-collapsed buildings.

A small girl, no more than four or five, lay crumpled on the ground. Over her crouched Blake's sister, Aenia. Her mouth was slick with blood as she leaned over the younger child, sucking greedily.

My stomach twisted, Aenia's cruel laughter still echoing in my ears.

But Blake didn't hesitate. He lunged forward. In a heartbeat, he had grabbed Aenia and yanked her off the little girl.

The small highblood screamed and snarled in response, her eyes wild as she bared her fangs at her brother. She thrashed about in his arms, scratching at his face with viciousness like a savage animal.

"Aenia!" Blake barked. His voice was sharp with authority but it didn't seem to even reach her. She writhed in his grasp, trying to sink her teeth into him as if she'd lost all sense of who and where she was.

"Grab the child," Blake snarled in my direction, his voice full of urgency. "Quickly."

Aenia's nails left trails of blood on his skin as she hissed and scratched but Blake didn't falter. He held her firm as I darted forward.

For a moment, I stood, frozen, looking down at the little girl's body. Poppy. That was her name. She looked like a lifeless doll. Blood was flowing freely from the wounds at her throat.

Then I saw it. She was breathing. Only just.

"Give me something," I cried, desperately, turning back to Blake. "Anything. To stop the blood."

Shifting Aenia under one arm, he somehow managed to peel off the jacket he was wearing and tossed it to me. Quickly, I ripped one of the sleeves off and tied it around Poppy's neck as tightly as I dared, then wrapped the rest around the little girl and lifted her up into my arms.

She was so light, so fragile. I could feel the warmth of her blood soaking through Blake's jacket, sticking to my skin.

Before I could move towards the way out, Aenia let out a feral scream of rage and broke free from Blake's grasp.

She fell to the ground in a heap then leaped to her feet and dashed towards me.

But Blake was faster.

In a blur of motion, he came between us.

"Aenia, stop!" Power flowed through the words. His voice carried the unmistakable command of thrallweave.

Aenia froze mid-lunge, her body trembling violently as she tried to shake off his hold. Her tiny fists shook at her side, her face twisted with fury. But she couldn't move.

I'd had no idea he could do anything like that. That he could use thrallguard on another highblood. Then I wondered if anyone really knew what Blake Drakharrow was truly capable of, least of all me.

Blake scooped up Aenia again, holding her more tightly, her arms pinned at her sides.

"Can you get the girl back to the tower alone?" His voice was strained but controlled.

I nodded tightly. "I think so. What are you going to do with her?"

Blake didn't answer.

"You can't keep letting her hurt people." The image of the little fluffin I'd found injured on the beach flashed through my mind. "First it was the fluffin. And now look at her! I know she's your sister, but she nearly killed this child. How many others has she already killed that you don't know about?"

"It's none of your concern. You think I don't already know all of this?" Blake snarled.

"I have no idea what you know and don't know," I said slowly. "Or if you really care."

"I'm here, aren't I?" he spat.

"Then what are you going to do about it?" I demanded. "Because if you don't stop her, she'll keep hurting people. She would have killed this girl and you know it. What happens next time?"

Blake's gaze darkened. "This isn't the time or the place for this conversation. I'll handle Aenia. You just take care of the girl."

"How?" I started to say.

He turned towards me, his face dark with fury. "Maybe you didn't hear me the first time, Pendragon. Take the girl and get out of here. Now ."

He didn't use thrallguard, I'd give him that much. But there was power in his voice nonetheless.

I took a step back. "Fine. So you'll just keep covering for her, protecting her, while she tears apart blightborn children as if they're nothing." I shook my head. "I guess I'm an idiot for thinking any highblood would actually care about something like that."

Blake's face hardened, but he didn't reply.

I turned and began to walk back through the dark tunnels, cradling Poppy in my arms.

The little girl's breaths were weak and shallow, but reassuring in their steadiness.

As I passed the room with the large dragon skull the ground beneath my feet suddenly shifted. A low rumble began, growing louder and louder, causing the very stones underfoot to vibrate.

I picked up my pace, half-running, half-walking through the dim passageways.

Chunks of stone began raining down from the ceiling. I stumbled, my knees hitting the cold, hard ground. As debris fell around us, I curled my body over the little girl's, shielding her as best I could.

The tremor finally passed leaving silence in its wake.

When I was sure it was over, I struggled back to my feet, legs wobbling as I held the child close.

Fifteen minutes later, I finally reached the First Year Common Room. I burst through the door, sweat pouring down my face.

Florence rushed towards me.

"Medra!" she cried, as she took in the sight of the wounded girl. "Poppy! You found her. Thank the Bloodmaiden." Her shoulders sagged in relief.

I cringed at her choice of words, but knew this was not the time.

Professor Rodriguez was crouched by the hearth, stoking the fire. When he saw me, he rose quickly. Crossing the room, he took the girl from my arms and placed her gently upon a couch. He knelt down beside her, unfastening my makeshift tourniquet, and pressing his fingers gently against the wounds at her neck.

"Fetch her mother," he ordered one of the speechless students standing nearby. The boy ran off immediately. "You." He pointed to another student, a cowering girl. "Go fetch a healer. Tell them to bring a litter she can be carried in."

Minutes later, we could hear the poor mother's panicked sobs from the hallway before she even appeared. The housekeeper was a pretty blightborn woman with long black braided hair. She fell to her knees beside her daughter, cradling Poppy's face. Tears streamed down her cheeks as Rodriguez continued his ministrations.

"Medra, what happened? Where did you find her? Where's Blake?" Florence asked softly.

Her eyes scanned my face. I couldn't find the words to answer her. Nor did I want to. Not truly. I couldn't tell her what I'd seen.

If the little girl remembered her ordeal in the morning, she could share it with her mother. But I prayed she would forget.

Exhaustion was weighing down upon me. The events of the night were finally crushing me with horror and guilt.

I shook my head. "Tomorrow," I said, putting her off.

I climbed the stairs to my room, every step heavier than the last. My mind spun, replaying every last painful detail from the moment I'd left the First Year Common Room earlier that night with Kage.

The rite. The things Blake had done. The things I'd let him do.

I'd let him in. Let my guard down. For a moment, I had wanted him.

It had been a mistake.

He had saved the little girl. But he'd also saved her monster.

Aenia's feral eyes, filled with hunger and madness, flashed before me. And there was Blake. Holding her back.

Protecting Poppy and I. But also protecting the highblood who threatened us both.

I fell onto my bed, too exhausted to even turn down the covers.

The last thing I remembered as I fell asleep was the feeling of his hands on my skin...and the shame that had come from wanting him.