Page 165 of On Wings of Blood

“Right. They were looked down on at first. Then came the histories you’ve already heard in Professor Hassan’s class.”

“The highbloods were the blightborns’ salvation.” I snorted. “I remember.”

“Regardless of what you believe,” Florence went on. “Highbloods and blightborn revere the Bloodmaiden. There are temples devoted to her across Sangratha. Some women even enter into her service and live their entire lives there.” She shot me a curious glance. “Did you know Blake Drakharrow’s mother is in the Sanctum?”

“At a temple?” I said in surprise. “No. How would I have known that? Why?” I was surprised a woman from such a powerful family and house would choose to enter into a life of seclusion.

“When her husband died, she left her family. As far as everyone knows, that’s where she went. To the Bloodmaid’s Sanctum. The most sacred temple in Sangratha. No one has seen her since. I assume Blake and his family are in touch with her somehow though.”

“I don’t like the sound of having to give blood at this place,” I said with a groan.

“It’s not so bad. You’ll see. Naveen and I can go first. You can watch... us...” Florence yawned.

“We should go to sleep,” I said guiltily, remembering how hard she’d been studying. “You need your rest.”

“Sounds good,” Florence said dreamily.

The room was quiet for a while. Then she spoke again. “Who do you think I should go with, Medra?”

“Naveen,” I said promptly. “You’ll have fun with Naveen.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” She yawned again. “Even though he probably only asked me because he thought no one else had. He had a girlfriend back home, you know.”

“I know,” I said. “But they broke up, right?”

But there was no answer. Florence had fallen asleep.

In another few minutes, so did I.

There were no more dragons in my dreams that night.

CHAPTER 37 - MEDRA

A few weeks passed by.

Wintermark term exams came and went.

I’d passed all of my classes. I’d even surprised myself with some of my marks. I’d received a C (Commendable) in Restoration with Professor Rodriguez. Part of me thought he was as surprised as I was. I couldn’t do healing magic, but the theory was fascinating and I was excited to get into more alchemy work in the next part of the course. I’d gotten the highest mark possible in Basic Combat for Blightborns–an E for Excellent, and another Commendable in Advanced Weaponry with Professor Sankara, which I thought was more than fair considering the incident with Blake.

The only class I’d received the second-to-last lowest mark possible, a W for Weak, was History of Sangratha. The class itself was engrossing. Professor Hassan’s lectures were usually full of interesting historical tidbits. But she’d hated me since that first day I’d arrived late and no matter how I tried to keep out of her way and no matter how hard I worked on my essays, nothing improved. She’d actually failed me on one paper and accused me of plagiarism. So I was thrilled to have passed with a W. It was better than flunking out completely.

Florence’s marks were all stellar which was no surprise. Es across the board. And Naveen seemed happy with his marks, too, though he wouldn’t show them to us.

Ever since Florence had accepted his invitation to the ball, he’d been looking a little high strung. But I put that down to his nervousness over the Dance of the Longest Night. Not only washe worried about his solo but now Florence would be there on his arm.

Since the night of the second quake, my dreams had changed.

Blake had been banished. He’d been replaced by the dragon.

The dreams were all pretty much the same. Bloodwing was crumbling around me. Sometimes I was running through the halls and trying to save Florence or Naveen or Vaughn or other random blightborn students.

All while a huge dragon with massive flapping wings rose up out of the rubble, roaring all the while.

There had been a few more tremors, but they’d happened during the daytime and Florence had been right–none of the professors seemed very concerned.

Now we’d reached the last day of term. It was lunchtime. I walked down the corridor with Florence towards the refectory, my breath fogging in the chilly air.

The weather had turned bitingly sharp and a heavy snow covered the campus. But despite the cold, Bloodwing was buzzing with anticipation for the upcoming school break and the Frostfire Festival. Most of the First Year students seemed to be staying at school for the break rather than returning home.

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