Page 57 of Validus Vale Academy 1
I return his sneer. His trying to pull hierarchy is bullshit. Outside of the academy, my status is far above his. The only reason I’m at Validus Vale is that the WMO makes a four-year program mandatory for Elites. I didn’t fight the edict; it gave me four years away from my father’s plans.
Professor Alexis Feniks needs to learn his place. I whip around, giving him my back. I might not have all the faculty under my thumb, but at least I’ll finally have the penthouse all to myself.
About fucking time.
25
This time, I insist that Wilson go to the health center.
A near-drowning requires proper documentation, a tedious formality to keep bureaucratic bitches like Tina-fucking-Marie off my back.
Wilson’s little shadow, what’s-her-name? Bloomhower or something? Yeah, Bloomhower is hovering in my peripheral vision. I suspect it’s her urgings rather than my instruction that finally coaxes Wilson into a reluctant agreement to see a healer.
Lighting another cigarette, I inhale deeply as the memory of Wilson’s lifeless face causes a sharp, unwelcome ache deep in my chest. For a fleeting, terrifying second, it felt like she’d slipped away entirely, and the level of pain I experienced in that moment is something I don’t think I want to examine.
A sharp rap sounds on my door.
Cosmo Drakeward, arrogant twat that he is, doesn’t wait for an invitation, just strides into the room with a casual entitlement I despise. I narrow my eyes at him. “Sit.” Then his still-damp hair reminds me he did save Wilson’s life, so I reluctantly add, “Please.”
Slumping down, Drakeward gestures to my ashtray. “Can you not? The stench is rancid.”
Smirking a little, I take a deliberate drag of my cigarette, the cherry glowing red, and deliberately blow the smoke in his direction. “It’s a terrible habit,” I say, congenially. “I recommend you youngsters don’t take it up.”
He bristles visibly at my condescending tone, a reaction that brings me an unholy amount of pleasure. But enough of toying with the little prick. I open my laptop and make a new document. “Tell me what happened from your point of view.”
Drakeward recites the near-death experience of Theo Wilson with zero discernible emotion. All the time I’m scanning his face, looking for lies, but I can’t detect any. The only thing that doesn’t ring true is his disinterest. “You weren’t involved in Troy’s decision to go to the second pool?” I ask, my voice sharp. “No puerile goading him into a high dive with potentially fatal consequences?”
He looks genuinely disgusted at my question, features twisting in distaste. “For fuck’s sake.”
I have to agree that doesn’t seem like a Cosmo Drakeward action; for all his assholery, he doesn’t strike me as particularly immature. In fact, he has a weary air that seems years older than the twenty-odd he’s been on this planet. I’m about to dismiss him when a soft knock sounds at the door. “Come in,” I say, and Theo Wilson enters, Bloomhower hovering in the background.
“Honestly, I’m fine, Willow,” Wilson says to her. “Go get lunch, I’ll catch you up.” The other girl grumbles but turns to leave.
“Close the door,” I instruct Wilson. She’s even more pale than usual. I don’t like seeing her like this, and my gut clenches. “Take a seat. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” she says quietly, then turns to Cosmo. “And thank you—for saving me.”
He doesn’t acknowledge her, and I take a beat before turning back into teacher mode. “Mr. Drakeward was just recounting theincident from his perspective. Perhaps you could corroborate his account?”
Before she can speak, a shiver runs through her small frame. I quickly use a little magic to coax flames from the dry logs in the fireplace. As the heat begins to fill the room, Wilson describes her experience. “One minute, I was swimming, or at least trying to,” she gives a tentative smile. “And the next, it’s like a bomb hit me, dragging me down.”
“Were you immediately unconscious?” I ask. Fucking Farrington could have killed her.
“No, I sank right to the bottom, still conscious. Then…” she hesitates, then looks up at me, her little brow creasing. “Never mind.”
“Never mind? I don’t mind, Wilson. Tell me…”
Those luminous eyes are troubled as she speaks again. “This is going to sound stupid, but is there something down there?”
“Down there? What do you mean?” I note that Drakeward has angled his head towards her, like he’s interested in what she has to say.
“I don’t know, maybe a light source? It was bright, and it felt like it was sucking at me, tethering me to the ground. I… this sounds dumb, but I remember feeling like I was being dragged down, like… hooks on my body...then a voice.”
A voice? Lack of oxygen hallucination, probably. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Drakeward stiffen. “Something to add?” I ask him, my mind still going over what Wilson said. I’m reasonably sure there was nothing at the base of the dive pool except smooth tile. I’ll check it out later.
“No, nothing. Are we done?” Drakeward yawns again, the disinterest not quite reaching his guarded eyes..
I have enough for the tedious school incident report. Still, seeing the two of them here in my office, I realize it’s a perfect, albeitunplanned, opportunity to get some information. “No, I have another question.” I stub out my cigarette and then lean back in the office chair. “Who are Wes and Donovan, and why do you think they disappeared?”
