Page 36 of Kingdom of Shadows and Wings

He hesitates, his gaze becoming speculative as I arrange my features into the expression of innocent sincerity that I perfected after a lifetime of living with my mother.

Another fledgling stumbles into the infirmary, limping and groaning. “I think I broke my ankle.”

The medic helps the fledgling to a cot before jerking his chin at me. “Key’s in the blue bowl on the table. Thanks.”

He rolls up the fledgling’s trousers and begins to untie his patient’s boot. Hurrying to make my escape, I rush to the table, snatch the key, and bolt for the door.

Guilt pings in my chest as I dash into the sunlight. I rub the spot, telling myself that I’m not completely misleading him. I reallyamdoing him a favor…I’m just tacking on a little extra bonus for my good behavior.

Fine, so I’m a jerk. I can accept that. If minor acts of jerkiness are the sole payment required to find Leesa, I’ll consider it a small price. At least I’m not choking unsuspecting dessert-eaters with poisoned custard or shooting arrows at people’s heads with no provocation.

With the other fledglings in classes, the walkways are empty. The storage building squats on the opposite side of campus. After reassuring myself that no one’s looking, I break into a jog. It still takes me a good chunk of time to reach the building. Feeling a little like a criminal, I insert the key and unlock the door. Sunlight spills inside, illuminating a rectangle of gray stone floor, and ever-lamps affixed to the walls reveal tower upon tower of trunks and miscellaneous objects.

I blow out a mouthful of air. “Let’s hope our medic friend knows what he’s talking about.” If not, it could take days to sift through all this crap to find Leesa’s trunk.

Thankfully, Keller was right. Stacks of trunks wait in the far back righthand corner, all of them labeled with names. I locate Leesa’s without too much trouble and open the trunk, holding my breath as I inspect the contents.

Three training uniforms, perfectly folded. Flying leathers. Undergarments, socks, and sturdy leather boots. A navy cloak. Sleepwear. A fancy dress and a few other garments from home. Toiletries, notebooks, and a couple of odds and ends, one of which is the small jade carving of a dragon that I paid Royce to find for Leesa and then gave to her as a birthday gift. No clues await. No surprises there. This was always a longshot. Still, I can’t help the cold weight of disappointment that presses against my skin. The optimist in me had clung to the hope of finding a clue hidden amongst her stuff. A journal. A letter. Anything.

A horrifying realization crushes my spine. The trunk contains a lot of belongings.Too manybelongings for Leesa to have taken much, if anything, with her.

A lump clots my throat. Leesa leaving her stuff behind makes running off with a lover less likely, and of the believable theories, that was the most benign. The others involve someone hurting her. But why? Why Leesa, and why from Flighthaven?

Male voices reach my ears, signaling the end of my adventure. I toss Leesa’s belongings, everything except for the jade dragon and the notebooks, back into the trunk. When the door creaks open, I have the chest sitting in its original spot.

Pocketing the dragon, I clutch the notebooks to my chest with one hand, dangle the key from the other, and stride down the walkway toward the door while muttering aloud. “Now, where could that medical box be? Keller will kill me if I’m not back with those bandages soon.”

One of the men calls out a greeting. If my surprised gasp seems theatrical, neither of them notice. They barely give me a second glance before directing me to the right of the door. I make quick work of locating the boxes of bandages, grabbing one, and returning to the infirmary.

After dropping off the supplies and key, I have just enough time to return to my room and tuck Leesa’s notebooks beneath my mattress. With my head throbbing, I let my eyes drift shut for a second…

I wake to the dinner horn and spend most of the meal recounting my version of my altercation with Elijah, and then listening as Olive, Abel, and Theo recount different versions of the same event that grow more ridiculous with each telling. The gossip here could rival the stories my mother’s friends whisper at her parties.

By the time we finish eating and return to the room, all I want is peace and quiet. Flopping on my bed, I bury my nose in a book I brought from home and thank the gods when Olive takes the hint and doesn’t chatter in my ear. I read as she and Helene head off to the shared showers.

Upon their return, they both fall fast asleep, and the room fills with their soft snores and sighs. After reading until my eyes start to cross, I trade my book for my white nightgown and the towel provided by Flighthaven and head for the common bathing chamber. Thankfully, it’s empty. I’m not ashamed of my body, but I’m also not accustomed to getting naked in front of other people. I figure I can work my way up to exposing more skin in front of others once I’ve settled in.

Through some delightful combination of piping, hot springs, and magic, warm water flows from round holes in the wall. I soap off and then stand beneath the cascade. With my palms planted against the wall, I lower my face and let the soothing heat ease the agony from my screaming muscles. The solitude allows me a few moments of peace…to simply exist. Away from the scrutiny of so many eyes.

For so long, I’ve been desperate for a taste of freedom. Anything to get me out of the castle. Now that I have it, I’m not sure what I think. I’ve been gone less than three days, and already I long for the safety of my home. Maybe my mother is right. Maybe I’m too weak to thrive outside of the castle grounds.

By the time I finally flip the switch that stops the water, my skin has pinkened. Wringing the moisture from my hair, I step outside the enclosure, freezing when the ever-lights flicker off. The chamber plunges into darkness.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

A noise, like a muffled snicker, echoes in the chamber before silence reigns again. My pulse drums in my ears. Is this part of the hazing Olive and Vice Commander Torno mentioned? Elijah and his buddies preparing for another round of target practice? Another attempt at cooking me to a crisp with fireballs? Whatever the threat, one thing’s for sure. Naked and wet isn’t the ideal way to face it.

Ignoring my bleating nerves, I fumble around in the dark until my fingers touch soft linen. My nightgown. More groping doesn’t recover the towel, so I pull the nightgown over my head without drying off. The thin material clings to my damp skin, but at least I’m covered. One problem solved. If only I could access my fire magic and banish the darkness, but a quick attempt results in the usual failure.

A whisper off to the left causes me to jump. Assholes. Don’t they have anything better to do than play immature pranks or bully me? At least no one’s aiming a deadly weapon at my heart. Yet.

The thought barely has time to surface before a flame flickers to life. Harsh hands grab my shoulders. Someone stuffs a cloth into my mouth. I catch a fleeting glimpse of masked faces before my assailants shove a bag over my head.

Chapter Thirteen

I kick out, struggling against my captor. My bare foot connects with a solid object, eliciting a muffled curse.

“Secure her feet.”

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