Page 39 of On Wings of Blood

“You can’t do this,” I protested. “I need to eat before afternoon classes.”

“I can do whatever I want, Miss Pendragon,” he growled back. “If you have any complaints, take them up with Blake Drakharrow. Either he’s your ally or your enemy. I suppose we’ll see which it is. Regardless, I’m well within my rights as your professor to keep you here every lunch hour for the entire rest of the school year if I choose to. So you’d best buckle up.”

I clenched my jaw but said nothing.

He started striding towards the door.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

Professor Rodriguez paused, then looked back and smiled. “I’m going to eat lunch. And when I get back at one o’clock, you’d better have made significant progress on that storage room and on that stack of books.”

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...”

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