CHAPTER 7 - MEDRA

I was sticky and sweaty by the time one o'clock rolled around. I didn't want to risk leaving the Restoration classroom too early and invoking Rodriguez's wrath but I also didn't plan on being late for my first Advanced Weaponry class.

I'd lost not only my chance to eat lunch but also a chance to track down Regan Pansera and put a few questions to her. Despite her claims to want me to have the best first day possible, it was turning out to be a disaster.

I'd been late for my first class, made a spectacle of myself in my second, and now had at least one teacher as an enemy.

Rodriguez's suspicion of Viktor Drakharrow and his apparent dislike for Blake seemed a little strange for Sangratha and for a professor. I would have thought he'd be currying the Drakharrows' favor just like everyone else at the school. But instead, Rodriguez seemed to have almost as many qualms about highbloods as I did.

I supposed there was a fine line between being critical of parts of highblood history–like the sacrifice of healers for a pointless cause–and actual treason. Still, considering how intense Viktor Drakharrow had seemed, I wouldn't have thought Rodriguez would want to be so public about airing his grievances.

I'd gotten so involved in cleaning up the storage room–the place really was a mess, with dust covering everything, and it was strangely satisfying to get things orderly–that I'd almost forgotten about my second task. By the time I'd snatched up one of the books in the stack, it was a quarter-to-one and I was nearly out of time.

I flipped open the first few pages and scanned as much as I could.

When five minutes had passed, I bailed. Deciding I could get more reading done later, I scooped up the stack of books and took them with me.

As I stepped out of the Restoration classroom, I realized I had absolutely no idea where to go next.

I stood there, heart sinking and panic setting in, as a rush of students began to flow through the hall around me.

"Medra!"

I looked down the hall and saw a hand frantically waving. Florence.

"Come with me," she said breathlessly, running up and grabbing my arm with one hand while shoving a muffin towards me with her other. "You have just enough time to get down to the training courtyard."

I stuffed the muffin in my mouth–some sort of nut and berry combination, not my favorite but better than nothing–as she pulled me along the corridors.

By the time we got down to the entrance to the courtyard, I was panting and so was Florence.

"Florence, you're going to be late for your own class," I moaned as I looked up at a clock on the wall.

"I have a prep period. I'm helping my mother get ready for the library session with the First Years." She chewed her lip as if indecisive.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Medra, I think there must have been a mistake with your timetable." The words came out in a rush. "Advanced Weaponry is a third or fourth year class. And it can get...dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

"It's normally only for vampires," Florence said. Her expression was truly worried. "It'll be full of highbloods. I should have said something when I saw your timetable, but I've never heard of a mistake like that being made."

"Maybe they put me in it because I'm a rider?" I said slowly.

"I don't know," Florence said. "But maybe you should..."

Just then the bells sounded.

A group of laughing students pushed past us. Visha Vaidya's violet eyes honed in on me as she strode by. Trailing behind her were Quinn Riley and Coregon Phiri. Only the dark-skinned young man greeted me as he moved past us. Quinn simply ignored me.

Last but not least, a few steps behind for once, sauntered Blake Drakharrow.

He shot me an odd look but for once kept his mouth shut. I didn't know whether to be grateful or not. Just this once, his input on my situation might have been useful.

But it was too late. I wasn't about to beg him for help.

Florence and I watched Blake head towards a rack of weapons lined up on one side of the courtyard. He picked up a hefty-looking halberd and started going through practiced motions.

"Those weapons look brutal, Medra," Florence said, chewing her lip. "At least in Basic Combat you're learning hand-to-hand techniques. And the scouts use lighter weapons like daggers and bows. Not greatswords and halberds."

You're not exactly a novice when it comes to weapons, my dear. Are you going to let your friend in on your little secret?

I gasped and jumped backwards. The woman's voice was back in my head.

Get the fuck out, I'm trying to think , I hissed furiously.

Florence was looking at me oddly.

"You know what, Florence," I said slowly. "I'm going to go in. I think the highbloods might be in for a surprise. You might be, too. I'm not a total novice at this. I've had a little bit of training. Back home." I decided to keep it vague.

Florence nodded. "If you're sure." She squeezed my arm. "I bet you'll be great. I'll see you in the library later." She grabbed my armful of books before I could stop her. "I'll put these in your room."

I shot her a grateful look. "Right. The library. Thanks, Florence."

I took a deep breath and stepped into the courtyard.

Blake Drakharrow had slung his vicious-looking halberd over his shoulder–rather a cocky thing to do with such a sharp weapon–and was standing addressing the class.

Oh, gods, I thought, suddenly panicked. Please tell me Blake isn't the fucking instructor.

I walked up and stood at the back of the group of highbloods cautiously, trying to hide myself behind them.

"Professor Sankara is delayed so I'll be supervising the class for now," Blake said, his deep voice carrying across the courtyard. He looked around at the students sternly. "No bullshit. I mean it. It's the first day. Just get started. Everyone knows what to do."

We did?

Everyone around me was nodding. The group broke up. Some students already had equipped themselves with their weapons of choice. They started pairing up. Others stood alone, solo drilling.

I walked slowly over to the weapons rack and looked at the options.

"Pick it up, bitch."

I whirled around.

Visha Vaidya was standing behind me, swinging a steel-tipped spear. "I said pick it up."

She glanced around, then took a step towards me. "You aren't even supposed to be here, you know that?" Her eyes were lit up gleefully.

"Regan messed with my timetable," I guessed. "And all of you were in on it."

Visha smiled nastily. "You made it this far. But it remains to be seen whether you make it out of this courtyard."

I looked around, wondering if this was what was supposed to happen.

There were no teachers. Blake was on the far side of the courtyard sparring with Coregon. Their halberds flashed in the afternoon sunlight. They moved so quickly I could hardly keep track of who was who. They paused and Blake glanced over at where I stood. He looked back and forth between Visha and I, then turned his back.

So. No help from that direction then. Not that I'd really expected any.

"Fine," I said, taking a deep breath. "I'll spar with you. Did you think I wouldn't?"

"What I think is that you've never sparred with anyone in your life," Visha said, her pretty face distorted by a nasty sneer. "Or picked up a sword. Look at those pretty, delicate hands."

I bit my tongue and decided not to tell her how very wrong she was. Let her find out on my terms.

Fae hands healed quickly. Much like vampires, I supposed. A useful trait. My hands might not be covered in blisters but they were more calloused than Visha could tell. What was more, my hands knew their way around a weapon or two.

I picked up one of the sleek, wooden shafts, balancing it between my hands and feeling the cool, smooth wood beneath my fingertips. It was lighter than I'd expected. I gave it a cautious twirl.

It felt right in my hands.

Visha was marching away. I followed her as she led the way to a sparring arena that had been cordoned off with thick, sturdy ropes attached to wooden posts.

A few other students paused what they were doing and glanced over at us curiously. But that was all I had time to notice. Because the moment I stepped into the ring, Visha lunged at me with lightning speed.

I barely had time to react. My spear came up just in time to deflect her strike.

The impact of Visha's spear clashing into my own jolted my arms. I staggered back against the ropes but managed to keep my footing

Visha gnashed her teeth, stepped back, then reengaged, striking at me again and again, each blow coming faster and harder than the last.

Fuck but she was fast. My eyes could barely follow her but somehow my arms kept up, raising and blocking with my spear again and again.

Still, it was clear I was on the defensive. I wasn't sure how long I could keep up the relentless pace. Visha's assault kept shoving me back against the ropes over and over until I was gasping.

I had to admit, part of me had believed I'd be able to take her. Easily. I might not have been a vampire, but I'd been trained by one of the best fae instructors in Aercanum. With a pang of sorrow, my mind slipped back to my mentor, Odessa. She'd not only trained me in combat; she'd been my friend. In some ways, Odessa was the closest thing to a mother I'd ever had.

She'd died protecting me.

But Odessa was gone. I was alone. I was here. And I was no longer the best pupil Odessa had ever seen. Because Visha would have given her a run for her money.

I'd been cocky to even think I could compete in this class. I felt a wave of panic spread over me. I should have listened to Florence and left when I'd had the chance.

Visha's spear spun through the air and swept low, catching me behind the knees and knocking me off my feet.

I went sprawling back into the dirt, the breath nearly knocked out of me.

I jumped back up just in time to miss her spear as it dove into the ground where my head had just been.

Visha's eyes gleamed with triumph.

Rightly so.

I was losing and she knew it. It was just a matter of time.

My heart was pounding. If I hadn't picked myself up out of the dirt, would Visa Vaidya really have speared me through the skull with the entire combat class watching? With Blake Drakharrow standing right across the courtyard?

For all I knew, this was the kind of behavior they allowed at Bloodwing. Hell, they probably encouraged it.

Are you done feeling sorry for yourself?

I flinched as the imperious woman's voice echoed through my head.

Now is not a great time , I muttered internally as I slapped Visha's latest blow away with my spear in the nick of time.

Are you really going to let this girl make a fool of you? Vampire or not, you are of royal blood.

Well, I didn't think I had a lot of choice, I snapped.

Visha moved towards me at a blinding speed and I jumped out of the way just in time, rolling across the dirt.

"Yeah," the girl crowed. "Get in the dirt where you belong, Pendragon."

You have the blood of kings and queens in your veins, girl , the woman's voice challenged. You may not be what those creatures are, but you're more.

More? I used to be more. I have nothing now. My powers are gone. Or can't you sense that from wherever the hell in my head you lurk?

Once this was over, if I made it out of this courtyard alive, I would really have to re-consider the idea that I was going mad, I decided.

Was that the kind of thing healers here could help with? Somehow I doubted it. I pictured trying to explain to Professor Rodriguez that there was a woman's voice in my head...and it wasn't mine. I doubted that would go well.

You think you're bereft. But I'm here, aren't I?

Oh, yes, I responded sarcastically. And a great help you've been. Interrupting me at the very worst of times.

But there was no response. Perhaps I'd finally been rude enough to frighten her away.

I managed to catch a glimpse at the edge of the roped off area. A number of students had come over to watch the fight. I saw Blake's face among them. He wasn't cheering for Visha like some of the other vampire students were doing. His face was a blank slate.

But his eyes followed me. Not Visha. Me.

The knowledge that he was watching me, judging me, probably hoping that I'd fail suddenly gave me the second wind I needed. I felt a rush of energy breaking through my fatigue and pushing me onwards.

Something shifted.

No, I wasn't a vampire. I could never match Visha for speed. I had come through my journey between worlds emptied of the fae powers I'd only just begun to learn how to access in Aercanum.

I had my body but only that. Nothing else was the same.

But standing there, on the matted earth with sunlight streaming down on us, I felt a fiery warmth spread through my veins. I took a deep breath and my heartbeat steadied. My senses sharpened.

Every detail suddenly seemed to stand out vividly, in a way it hadn't just a few moments before.

The sheen of sweat on Visha's brow. The way she was panting between blows. She was tiring, I saw with shock. I might not have been winning but I was certainly making her work for her victory.

The whistle of our spears cutting through the air suddenly filled my ears like screams.

The uneven texture of the ground beneath my boots sharpened.

I had something. Something even that monster Viktor Drakharrow had recognized. There might not have been dragons, but I had a dragon rider's build.

I had instincts to guide me. I just had to figure out how the hell to access them. In time, with practice, maybe my reflexes and agility could make me more skilled than most mortals. Maybe even skilled enough to beat a vampire.

My body flipped to the side as Visha came at me again, changing direction so quickly that I caught a look of shock in the other girl's eyes.

No, I didn't possess vampire speed. But my limbs were slightly longer than Visha's–than any student at Bloodwing. I might not have speed but I had something. Endurance. The very fact that Visha was starting to tire proved that, didn't it?

Visha thrust her spear against mine and our weapons collided, my teeth practically rattling in my head at the impact. My back was up against the ropes again. I could feel the harsh lines cutting into the fabric of my tunic and digging into my skin.

The highblood students around us were jeering and laughing. Some were shouting taunts, others placing bets on how much longer it would take for me to be defeated.

But when I looked, Blake was no longer among them. He wasn't across the courtyard either. So much for supervising.

I adjusted my grip on the spear, my stance becoming more balanced, more tightly grounded. I dug my feet into the dirt, preparing myself.

As Visha swung her spear in a wide arc, aiming at my side, I reacted as quickly as I could–ducking low and spinning away with a grace that surprised even myself.

The shift in the battle was subtle at first.

A well-timed parry here. A quicker step there.

I started to anticipate Visha's strikes, counter them with great precision.

The tables were turning.

I drove Visha back with a series of rapid, controlled thrusts.

And then, I saw my opening and took it and, shocking even myself, with a swift, powerful strike I knocked Visha's spear right out of her hands, sending it clattering to the ground.

I leveled my spear at the other girl's chest. "Yield."

She glared at me, her eyes filled with venom.

But she had to know there was no choice.

Without a word, she turned away, her expression twisting with anger and humiliation.

I wasn't sure what I'd expected. Applause from my fellow students? Not fucking likely.

But as I turned my back and moved towards the ropes, I felt the thrill of victory mingled with relief.

I'd just started to duck under the ropes when I caught a twitch of movement in the corner of my eye.

Then Visha was on me, yanking me back by the collar of my shirt.

For a second, I gagged, the fabric of the tunic tight around my neck, choking me.

Then I was crashing down, my back slamming into the hard dirt of the courtyard.

Visha was a whirlwind. She landed on my chest, straddling me, all sharp edges and ruthless speed. Her fists connected with my face, then my ribs. I tried to shift onto my side and shove her off but it was too late. Her knee collided with my stomach.

Nausea swept through me as I felt ribs pop and break.

But another part of me was already fighting back, instincts charged.

Visha was still laughing as I drove my fist into her jaw. Her head swung to the side, but not fast enough for me to miss the lock of shock in her eyes.

She recovered quicker than I'd expected, her eyes narrowing in cold fury. Without warning, she grabbed a fistful of dirt from the ground beside us and shoved it into my face, rubbing it into my eyes and my mouth.

The gritty soil stung my eyes, blinding me momentarily, and Visha took full advantage. She grabbed the back of my head and smashed it back down again and again.

I screamed in anger. With a burst of strength, I shoved her off, and rolled to the side.

I crouched there, palms flat in the dirt, spitting out mud and squinting.

I felt like an animal. Like I'd been reduced to less than vampire, less than fae, less than mortal.

I was trembling with rage. Tears of anger were running down my face.

I'd fought a fae god, but even then I wasn't sure I'd felt this much hate. That fight had been cold. Brutal, yes, but not dirty.

Visha came at me again, sharp nails outstretched, clearly aiming for my face.

I dodged and rolled, feeling the rush of air as she missed me by inches, and kicked out at her shins.

With a cry she dropped to her knees. I scrambled, intending to get past her but she was too fast for me. Her hand reached out, yanking me by the hair so hard I gasped.

She pulled me down beside her and punched me squarely in the nose. I heard a sharp crack and blood sprayed into my eyes.

Instantly, Visha's fangs flared like white pearls and for a moment she hovered over me, eyes wide and dilated. She sniffed the air hungrily and I held my breath, expecting her to lose herself in a frenzy at any moment.

Then, as if with great effort, she shook her head and snarled. "You didn't think you were actually going to get out of here, did you, bitch?"

She reached down to her side and I saw a flash of silver. A knife.

Visha still had me by the hair. Now she lowered her lips closer to my face. "You look good in the dirt. It's where you belong."

I started to lift my head, intending to smash her in the face with it.

"That's enough, ladies. Break it up." The voice carried over the crowd, deep and resonant.

For a moment, Visha's hand stayed poised over me. Then the knife disappeared into her palm.

"I said break it up. Get off her, Visha. Now. Or you'll be packing your bags before nightfall. She beat you. Fair and square. I saw it all. But you decided you were done playing fair."

I turned my head to see who was speaking.

An extremely tall man with dark ebony skin had appeared on the outskirts of the crowd of students. There was a noble air to his attractive face. His silver hair was tightly curled and closely cropped to his head. A gold ring hung from one ear. He stood tall with his legs spread and his arms folded over a broad, heavily muscled chest. Our instructor, I presumed.

Blake stood beside him. If I hadn't known better, I might have thought the expression on the highblood's face was one of worry. Was he afraid he'd be getting into trouble for what he'd allowed to transpire?

Visha hissed. "Combat isn't about playing nice , Professor."

"No, but it's the first day of class and I'm not ready for our first murder," the teacher said calmly.

I flinched.

The man sighed. "You cheated, Visha. There. Is that blunt enough for you? Get up."

Visha slowly stood.

"This isn't over," she murmured as she looked down at me.

"You've got that right." I spit out a mouthful of dirt and tried to ignore the smirk on her face.

"Give her your hand, Visha," the man instructed. "Someday soon you'll be fighting not just your fellow students, but ones from visiting academies. Show some fucking grace."

Visha looked furious. She glanced once at the blood still trickling from my nose, then did as he said, holding her hand out.

"No fucking way am I taking that thing," I said, heaving myself to my feet on my own.

I groaned and clutched my chest. I was pretty sure something was broken. A rib. Maybe two.

"Pendragon, to me. Everyone else, clear out and get back to work," the instructor snapped. "There's half an hour of class left and I expect to see you use it."

I walked stiffly over to the ropes as Visha slunk away across the courtyard.

I could feel Blake there, standing beside the instructor, so I was trying not to show how much I hurt. But there was blood running down my face from my nose and into my mouth. I was panting and covered with dirt. And my chest ached everytime I breathed. I was pretty sure it was obvious.

Gingerly, I took up a position a safe distance away from Blake. I still wasn't sure what effect the sight of my blood had on him. Would he lose control like Visha almost had?

"So, this is the already-infamous Medra Pendragon," the instructor said, stepping forward as I came out from under the ropes. He gripped me by the arm and helped me down the rest of the way. "I'm Sebastian Sankara, your professor."

"Glad you were able to make it," I said, with not a little bitterness.

"Yes, well, you were the one out of place." Professor Sankara touched a hand to his chin. "I've just checked the roster and you aren't on it, Miss Pendragon. You weren't supposed to be here. This class is for advanced students who have attended Bloodwing for at least one year."

I closed my eyes for a moment. "I'm not surprised to hear that, Professor. Being at the wrong place at the wrong time is basically how my entire day has been going." I opened my eyes and looked over at Blake, but the bastard's face was unreadable.

I took a deep breath then winced as my ribs twisted painfully. "I'm sorry for disrupting your class, Professor. It was listed on my timetable so I showed up. I'll have to sort out where I'm actually supposed to be."

"Yes, I think a meeting with the headmaster is certainly in order," Sankara agreed. "But that wasn't the only reason I wanted to speak with you."

Belatedly I realized something. Unlike my first two professors that day, Professor Sankara was a vampire. I caught glimpses of his razor sharp fangs appearing and disappearing as he spoke. I'd been so distracted it had taken me this long just to notice.

"Miss Pendragon? Did you hear what I said? This class is exclusively for vampires."

I sighed. "Right. I guess I should have figured that out."

I reached down to grab my spear from where it had fallen out of the ring so I could carry it back to the rack. Bad idea. I suppressed a groan.

"At least, it usually is exclusively for vampires," Sankara went on. "Exceptions have been made."

My head shot up. "Excuse me?"

Professor Sankara was looking at me thoughtfully. "You showed admirable skill with a spear in your duel with Miss Vaidya. Most students wouldn't have dared to go toe to toe with her. Or with any vampire, for that matter."

My heart thudded. So he'd been watching us for a while. This professor seemed more personable than the other vampires I'd encountered. But he'd seen Visha grab me by the hair after I'd already won our first round. And he hadn't seen fit to intervene. He'd waited and watched to see what would happen. And let Visha kick the shit out of me until he deemed it had gone far enough.

I lifted my chin. "Well, I guess that's another reason I wasn't meant to be in this place. I do dare."

"Or it's the very reason you belong here," Professor Sankara replied. "You're clearly not unschooled. Who taught you how to fight?"

"I had a tutor," I said slowly. "Back where I come from. She taught me everything I know about combat."

"She must have been a very impressive woman," Sankara said. "I'd like to meet her."

"She's dead," I said shortly.

Blake's head jerked up. Our eyes met. His gray ones honed into me.

I looked away. "Do the students really kill each other here?" I asked.

"At Bloodwing?" Sankara nodded. "Sometimes. It's a ruthless world, Miss Pendragon. The school reflects that. The students here have to be the very best to get here in the first place. But once they're here, that's just the start of it. You have to earn your place at Bloodwing every day. The highbloods who are your friends now might be your worst enemy a few years down the road. Some of our most ferocious wars have been fought between houses. And if you can't keep your place, well..." He shrugged. "Someone might decide to take it from you."

"That's horrible," I said.

"None of you are children," he replied. "These–" He gestured around him, with a pointed look at Blake. "Are the future leaders of Sangratha. We need them to be strong."

"Strong and merciless," I said bitterly.

"Strong enough to protect this land and all the people in it, including the weak," Sankara replied. "But you–you're not weak, Miss Pendragon. Visha made a mistake when she assumed you were, didn't she?"

"I wound up flat on my back in the dirt," I said. "So pardon me if I'm surprised you think so."

Sankara smiled slightly. "What I saw was a fighter with promise. I don't think you're in the wrong place. I think you're in the right one."

"What?" Blake and I spoke in unison.

I glared at him, but he was looking at Sankara.

"But, Professor, that's impossible. This is an exclusive class, just like you said. She can't be here. It's for vampires. Highbloods only. The elite. She's not one of us." Blake glanced at me, looking me up and down. "Besides, look at her. If she's in this state after half a class..."

He let the words hang there. They shouldn't have stung as badly as they did. What did I care if Blake thought I was a failure?

Sankara rubbed his chin. "The elite, eh, Drakharrow? Yet from what I just saw, Pendragon has the potential to be as talented a fighter as..." He paused. "Well, who knows. Maybe even you."

"Me?" Blake bristled. "I doubt that." He frowned. "You know I respect you, Professor, but..."

"But what, Drakharrow?" The professor's voice was suddenly dangerously cool. "You're a student in this class. You were in charge. Were you really going to let Visha Vaidya stab your consort in full sight of the entire class? You could have intervened sooner than you did. So why didn't you? Why did you wait for me to do something?"

I looked back and forth between the two men in confusion. What did Sankara mean? Blake hadn't intervened at all.

Blake glanced at me. "As you saw, sir, Pendragon handled herself. Better than I could have expected. I thought it was more fair to at least give her a chance to prove herself."

I scoffed. "You're fucking unbelievable. Was that a backhanded compliment?"

"It sounds to me like you're saying she might deserve to be here, Drakharrow," Sankara observed with a small smile. "In any case, there's certainly precedent for it."

"Precedent?" I asked.

"Dragon riders used to have their own advanced combat classes," Sankara explained. "They were the warriors of the skies, after all."

"Did they fight alongside vampires...?" I asked, curious despite myself. "Did they train with them?"

"Absolutely. They had to. In fact, that's something I'll be mentioning to the headmaster when I speak to him about you later on. You're the only rider in the school and that means your curriculum should be as unique as you are. I'm not sure much thought was put into it based on what you've said."

"I was in History of Sangratha and Restoration before this," I said.

Sankara raised a brow. "Everyone has to take History with Professor Hassan. But Restoration? I'm not sure how much practical value that will hold for you. Another mistake on your schedule perhaps."

"Perhaps," I said, glaring at Blake again. "Today has just been full of those."

"Bloodmaiden! Look at the time. We'd better get you to a healer." Sankara glanced at me as I wiped away blood from my nose. "Not all of the students here are as restrained as my older cohort here. So you'll need an escort. What class are you supposed to have next?"

"Introduction to Bloodwing Libraries," I said. "At least, that's what my timetable says. I'm not sure it's correct."

The professor nodded. "That sounds right. All First Years have a general orientation to the libraries. But I'm not sure you're going to make it. You might have to catch up later. I want you to head to the Drakharrow House healer first. After that, see if there's time before Headmaster Kim's Commencement Address is scheduled to begin in the Dragon Court." He glanced at Blake. "I assume I can trust you to show Pendragon the way to your house healer with no trouble?"

"No trouble at all, Sir," Blake said. He looked at me coldly. "I'll take her now."