Page 88 of Validus Vale Academy 1
“...until it stabilizes…can’t afford more…
“...I’m banking rolling…”
“...hard to get replacements…”
“...don’t care, no…”
“...moving the bodies is…”
“...done…”
Singleton-Smith leans into the little group. Even from here, I can see the threat in his posture. Then, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, ringing a primal warning bell. I flick my gaze over my shoulder, into the deep shadows of the trees behind me, and freeze.
Standing there, silent as a wraith, just watching me with unnervingly calm eyes. Dean Crankshawe.
Busted.
The dean doesn't bother with pleasantries, just lifts her cell phone to her mouth, her gaze never leaving mine.
“We’ve got a problem,” she says
???
Several men with AK-47s escort me across the grass until I’m in the center of an odd group: four security guards, two snarling German Shepherds, plus Dean Crankshawe, Alistair Singleton-Smith, his driver, and a mystery scarred man.
“Cosmo, how…interesting to see you here,” Singleton-Smith says, his expression inscrutable. “Dean Crankshawe said she sensed a listening spell. Imagine my surprise when I find the caster is you. Seems,” he pauses, waiting to find the most devastating word, “so proletarian. It begs the question, just why would you be using such an intrusive little charm around me and my activities?”
The scarred man cracks his knuckles in a fucking cliche move. I ignore him and focus on the WMO president. Everything he says is bullshit, and he knows that any words he gets from me will be just the same. I’m just about to embroider a reason for my presence when that oblivious fucker Alexis Feniks saunters towards us.
Stupid, arrogant, asshole. I know, or I’m at least pretty sure, I could have talked my way out of this—but Feniks? Clueless. He’s going to fuck the whole thing up.
"Drakeward!” he exclaims in an overly hearty manner. “There you are—you're late. Where the hell have you been?" Then, the obviously insane Kormovian turns to the assembled group with a semi-convincing wide-eyed innocence. “Hello, Dean Crankshawe, lovely afternoon, isn’t it?” He gestures vaguely towards the building site. “How's progress coming along?"
There’s a momentary stunned silence, and I begin to think I’ve underestimated Feniks. He saw I’m in trouble and is trying to get me out of here. Hope his acting skills are up to it.
“You're not needed here, Professor,” Singleton-Smith says, flicking his eyes dismissively in Feniks’ direction.
“Many apologies,” Feniks coughs, “but I’m afraid I'm going to have to disagree with you.” Holy shit, Feniks is a ballsy fucker. “This student,” he continues, “is in detention for the remainder of the day and has the distinct pleasure of assisting me with some tasks.” Feniks gives a toothy smile to the assembled party. I look down at the ground, not trusting my own expression.
After a moment of silence, I glance up just in time to see Singleton-Smith’s jaw clench as he speaks again. "I'm sure you can let the boy off the rest of his punishment." The smile on his face is no smile at all. “He's a family friend, and as such, I'm taking him out for the afternoon…so we can catch up.”
Yeah, no fucking way do I want to be ‘taken out for the afternoon’ by that psychopath.
"I’m sure Mr. Drakeward would love that, but no can do." The professor clicks his tongue as he muscles in between two security guards and grips my neck. “This young man has stepped over the line too many times, and I own him this weekend. Sorry todisappoint you, sir, but I’m sure you understand, rules are rules. Right, Dean Crankshawe?”
The dean looks like she’s about to shit her pants. "Feniks, do you even know who this is?” she shrieks. “This is Mr. Singleton-Smith. From the WMO.”
Feniks gives a shocked-Pikachu face. “Oh, an honor to finally meet you, sir. Well, I know a man of your stature will certainly understand that here at Validus Vale, we adhere to the WMO's academy guidelines to the letter. No student is exempt from expectations of conduct, regardless of standing or ranking points. A wisest of rulings from the council, wouldn't you agree?"
His bullshit is tiptoeing towards the unbelievable. How the fuck do I rein in Feniks’ inner theater kid? “Mr. Drakeward," Feniks says, tightening his grip on my neck, "have you finished the activities I assigned in this area?"
Activities in this area? Think fast.
I shrug in an ‘annoyed’ manner. “Yeah, whatever, Professor. It took me longer than I thought and was a real pain in my ass.” When I look up, Feniks has a subtle glint of amusement in his eye.
Unlike Singleton-Smith, who looms closer. “Yes, exactly what taskhadyou set Cosmo out here by the building site?”
Feniks seems unruffled. “Mr. Drakeward volunteered to help out with some new Defectivum freshmen's training; magic challenges set around the edge of the forest. Isn't that right, Drakeward?"
