could be down there, one student among the others, taking bets on how long the Redbriar would last.
The student Cly had picked on still sat on the ground, staring dumbly in the direction of his unexpected rescuers. Then he picked himself up and began to grope for his glasses. The other student, the strange one, had disappeared already. I hoped he hadn’t recognized me. While I had my mother’s grey eyes, the rest of my face was distinctly Redbriar, which made me look more like Cly than I’d like. It might bring up awkward questions.
Behind me, I heard Aegis and Cly coming up the stairs. “That asshole!” Cly wailed. “He just came up and attacked me for no reason! He was having fun! Carry me, he scraped my knees!”
“We’ll be better prepared next time,” Aegis promised. “Besides, you’ve already dispelled the worst of the rumors. After that, no one can claim you don’t have plenty of magic of your own.” I rolled my eyes.
A different sort of trouble started the moment they came in, Cly sitting in Aegis's arms.
“You took her shackles off?” Cly demanded incredulously, rounding on Aegis. “Are you crazy? She could’ve just run off! She could’ve done anything!”
“Your family took my mom as hostage,” I snapped. “You may have forgotten, but I can’t.”
Cly ignored me. “Put her back in the shackles, right now!”
“I suppose it’s the safe thing to do,” Aegis said, eyes downcast. I didn’t look at him, hissing as what little magic I’d regained drained away into the shackles.
“Now come on,” she said, when he was done. “We’re getting dinner together. Not for you,” she told me.
I watched them leave, talking of the roasted venison and rare greens available today in the dining rooms.
My stomach grumbled; I hadn’t eaten all day, and the stasis trunk had worn off. But at least I could get a drink. I hobbled to the bathroom and turned the tap, sucking up the stream of water with my face half in the sink.
I straightened, awkwardly wiping the water from my face with my shackled hands. I stared into the bathroom mirror at myself. My light brown hair was a tangled mess, my wrists were chafed from the shackles, and I was covered in bruises from being jolted around in the suitcase. But my eyes were the same. Grey as a storm.
My name was Cassandra Turner. Not Redbriar. I was a Turner, like my mother, my only true family. And like her, I would survive whatever these selfish, self-important mages threw at me. I was going to get through this, find a way to free her, and escape, whatever it took.
And I might not even have to do it alone.
I didn’t trust the Nightfeld brothers. They were smug, rich bullies, no better, and probably worse, than the scions of any other powerful mage family.
But they had every reason to hate the Redbriars, and they practically ruled the school. The enemies of my enemy might turn out to be my friends.
Or they might just steamroll me without a second thought.
I closed my eyes. What a world I lived in.
The bodyguard who’d once been my childhood friend had put me in chains.
And I wanted the biggest bullies of Wraithwood Academy to help me break them.
Chapter 4
I woke to hands on me.
Heart pounding, I tried to fight, to bring my hands up, only to come up short as shackles bit painfully into my wrists.
I’d been chained to the sofa. Right.
I stilled, forcing myself to breathe and gain my bearings. Aegis loomed above me, removing the ruby from my necklace. He’d replaced it the previous evening so it could charge overnight. Behind him, Cly was hopping around crashing into furniture as she tried to pull on her second sock. “Shit! Where does it say I have to get there early for the headmaster’s speech? If you’re wrong about this I’m gonna end you!”
Aegis patiently pointed out the bolded, underlined paragraph in her orientation packet before reattaching the ruby to Cly’s necklace. She reached out for a skirt, and Aegis handed it to her.
I gritted my teeth. I was unnaturally exhausted, from my stint in the sustenance trunk, as well as multiple artifacts draining my magic. My head hurt, and my bruised back didn’t feel great from sleeping on a sofa that was designed more for aesthetics than for comfort, either. And—shit, that was blood smeared on my wrists. I’d broken skin in my unthinking panic. That was really going to hurt if I had to