Page 79 of On Wings of Blood

Just like all of the other blightborn students.

But I doubted any of them had come here from another world.

“I know what you're thinking,” Rodriguez said, watching me. “We'll work on the compulsion aspect of thrallweave, too. That’s what Miss Pansera used with such blunt force the other day. But let’s start slow. Thrallguard training can be, well...intense.”

My stomach tightened. This was more complex than I could have imagined. Yet deception was my forte, wasn’t it? After all, I was here. They didn’t know what I truly was, not who I truly was, not really.

“What do I do next time?”

“You'll start by practicing simple distractions. Next time we meet, I’ll push harder, and you’ll need to throw some false memories and thoughts in my path. Anything to divert attention. It’s like leading someone down the wrong corridor in a maze.” He paused. “But for now, let’s just work on building that first layer. Keep it firm, focus on controlling what I see.”

I nodded and stood up. I felt weak and shaky. And Rodriguez hadn’t really even let loose on me. Not like he could have.

“This is going to take time,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “But you have potential. I wouldn’t have offered to teach you ifI thought you didn’t. Once you truly master this, no one will be able to touch your mind again. Unless you want them to.”

I couldn’t imagine ever wanting that. I nodded my thanks. But as I left the room, my mind was racing and the feeling of vulnerability lingered.

The more we practiced, the more of a chance Professor Rodriguez would have of seeing my most painful, private memories.

And if he got too close, if anyone did, I wasn’t sure what would happen.

The following weeks were grueling. Professor Rodriguez didn’t ease up. Each session, his attacks grew a little stronger and my wall fell over and over.

The only good thing was that he seemed to have forgotten about the essay I was supposed to be writing. Maybe he’d taken pity on me. Though I was sure it was temporary.

Some nights, after a particularly intense session, I’d lie awake, thinking about how easily Rodriguez could get into my mind. Or any other highblood, for that matter.

It was like my grandfather all over again. Reaching for me, grasping, taking from me what didn’t belong to him. My memories. My life.

Eventually a night came where I was exhausted. But there was only so long I could stay inside.

Brooding and melancholic, I paced the First Year common room, trailing my finger along the window ledges.

Back in Camelot, I’d have gone for a ride with Odessa. I’d have galloped my horse hard, felt the wind in my hair. But here, I had no horse. Nowhere to go. So far as I knew, even the exits to Bloodwing were guarded. We weren’t permitted to visit the city.

A spark of light down below the castle caught my eye. A fire, down on the beach.

Theo’s party.

I glanced across the room at where Florence sat scribbling on parchment. Books lay open in a semi-circle all around her and she seemed to be reading from two or three simultaneously. Naveen had gone to bed already.

But I was restless. There was a fire in my blood tonight and I couldn’t seem to quell it.

I glanced down at the bonfire again, then made up my mind.

CHAPTER 16 - MEDRA

“This was a terrible idea,” Florence moaned as she walked behind me across the sand.

We had no idea what students wore to these parties, but I’d made a point of finding some clothes thatweren’tbranded with the school motto. Bad enough that I already wore it day in and day out in class.

I’d pulled the dress I was wearing out of the wardrobe in my room. The dresses and gowns seemed to be the only pieces of clothing that weren’t stamped with “Sanguis et Flamma Floreant.” The bodice was a tight-fitting corset, made of black leather that laced up the front with crimson thread. The sleeveless design left my arms bare. The skirt hit just above the knee and flowed out from my waist in soft, layered folds of black tulle. It was a little more sultry than I was used to, but it was also dark and broody...which fit my restless mood just fine this evening.

Florence, on the other hand, had chosen a look much more like her day-to-day one. She wore a white button-up shirt embroidered with the Bloodwing crest and a skirt of dark gray. Overtop, she’d pulled a dark blue cloak, even though the night was warm and she didn’t need one.

She looked studious and, well, like a librarian. But I didn’t tell her that. She was already being bold by coming out with me in the first place. If she was comfortable, that was all that mattered.

Not that either of us were actually comfortable. But as we’d gotten dressed, we’d drunk enough wine to make us temporarily brave.

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