Page 16 of Kingdom of Shadows and Wings

As quietly as possible, I rummage through my satchel in the dark until I find my small leather pouch. I untie the drawstring. With a deep breath, I pull out one of the compressed tablets Mother buys from her mysterious alchemist and place the remedy under my tongue. For a few seconds, nothing happens.

Even though I’ve taken the magic-suppressing pill for years, I brace myself for the reaction my body’s about to have.

As the chalky white tablet dissolves, the odd, spicy taste floods my mouth and invades my senses. Muscles clenched, I wait, counting down from ten in my head.

…three…two…one…

The next assault hits. Intense pain slashes through me, as if a sharp blade’s ripping my innards to shreds and hollowing me out. Teeth gritted, I ride out the torture without a sound.

At home, I’d shriek into my pillow.

Here, I don’t have that luxury.

At last, the agony subsides. Though the pain the medicine inflicts is terrible, the next part is even worse. The retreating ache leaves a suffocating numbness in its wake. Like a living entity inside me is stuffed into a tiny, airless, padlocked box stored someplace inaccessible. My muscles seize as my body thrashes against the sensation. I breathe through the claustrophobia, waiting for the worst to pass.

When it does, I shake out my arms.

I won’t be setting anything on fire today.

A horn blares, loud enough to make my ears ring. Olive shoots straight up in bed, while Helene mutters a curse.

Yawning, Olive offers me a sleepy smile. “Good morning.”

Helene huffs as she stumbles out of bed. “What’s so good about it?”

Clad in the same type of sleepwear assigned to me, a loose-fitting pair of navy pants and tunic, she rifles through her dresser and plucks out fresh clothing. She stomps past us to the door, undoubtedly in search of a feeble old woman to kick or a basket of kittens to drown. Though it’s also possible she’s headed for the bathing chamber down the hall.

I turn to Olive. “Not a morning person, huh?”

Olive rolls her eyes. “Or an afternoon or night person either.”

I hop out of bed chuckling, but my mirth soon fades when I change into my navy uniform. Today is my first full day at Flighthaven, and I’m not sure what to expect. My nerves only worsen as I accompany Olive to the mess hall for breakfast. Conversations halt, eating stops, and laughter quiets as soon as we walk in, each fledgling focused on us instead.

The anxious flutters in my stomach explode into writhing, like I swallowed a sack full of slugs. I lean in and drop my voice to a whisper. “Is it going to be like this all the time?”

She shrugs, and I get the impression she’s not bothered. “Not with our unit. I’m sure things will die down. I honestly don’t know if it’s you or me that’s?—”

Out of nowhere, a leg shoots out and trips me. Hot coffee splashes down the front of my shirt, burning as the liquid seeps into my skin. Laughter breaks out, and everyone resumes their chatter.

Spinning around, I find none other than the hulking noble I met yesterday. Elijah Durand.

His brown eyes widen in mock apology, and he sets his empty cup on a nearby table before giving an exaggerated bow. “I’m so deeply sorry. I hope your uniform isn’t ruined.”

From behind him, someone’s snicker quickly morphs into a cough.

So many eyes watch us. The weight of those stares crushes my courage. I grapple with the urge to cower, the swelling scorn scalding me worse than the coffee. It’s tough to appear dignified while soaked and dripping brown liquid all over the floor, but I do my best. I arrange my face into what I hope is a friendly expression. “No harm done.”

Brushing past him, I don’t miss his smug grin. Bastard.

Despite the suppressant I took earlier this morning, my fingertips begin to sting. Although I have little practice using my magic, intense emotion seems to affect it. And now is not the time to test the limits of the drug.

Olive hands me a cloth napkin, which I use to wipe up as much of the spill as I can, thanking the gods for the dark Flighthaven uniforms. “If you hurry, you can change and still get back in time to eat.”

Nodding, I snatch a muffin off my plate and head back to the dorms. After cleaning up and redressing, I dawdle long enough to miss the rest of breakfast. Cowardly, sure, but I don’t feel up to crossing swords with Elijah or Helene again before I step foot into my first class.

The same horn from earlier blares. From my lurking spot beneath a tree, I observe the other students as they leap to their feet in a flurry of motion, shoving their last bites of food into their mouths and stacking dirty plates in empty tubs. Locating Olive’s auburn hair in the herd of fledglings streaming out the doors, I fall in step by her side.

She slants me a grin. “You ready for your first class? Strength training. Exercises to build up our muscles so we can ride the alicorns and battle the Tirenese during flight.”

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