Chapter Sixteen
The next morning, at breakfast in the dining hall, Clint appeared mostly back to normal.
“Feeling better?” Bryn asked as she poured syrup onto a giant stack of pancakes.
He nodded. “The smart-ass comments are back, but I have no desire to share them, which is weird.”
Ivy reached over and brushed her fingers through part of Clint’s Mohawk. “He’s much better today.”
“You thought I was a pod-person yesterday,” Clint teased.
“You scared the crap out of me,” Ivy shot back.
“Maybe,” Valmont said, “that was the point.”
Syrup dripped off Bryn’s fork onto her blouse. “What do you mean?”
Valmont cleared his throat and spoke in a quiet voice. “Maybe they wanted you to see what you had to lose if you didn’t obey their laws.”
Bryn smacked her fork down on the table and spoke through clenched teeth. “That rat-bastard.” She managed to keep her voice down, but just barely. “This whole thing was a power play. He wanted to show us what he could do if we went against him.”
“Like giving me a chemical lobotomy?” Clint stated in a normal tone of voice. “And yes that statement should have come out angry, but I can’t make that happen right now which makes this all the more terrifying.” He took a deep breath and blew it out. “It’s like Ferrin is controlling something in my head, changing my emotions and reactions, and it’s pissing me off.”
“We’ll make sure you never wind up in a position where Ferrin will doubt your loyalty to the Directorate again,” Bryn said. And she meant it. No matter what, she would never involve Clint and Ivy in her investigations again.
Ivy sighed. “I finally understand why you were afraid to share everything with us.”
“I hate that you get it now, and this was the cost.” Smoke drifted from Bryn’s nostrils. “And I really hate that Ferrin seems more dangerous now than ever.”
Students scraped chairs across the floor as they stood to head to first hour.
“The most important thing,” Valmont said, “is that we’re all okay and we now have a better and far more terrifying understanding of what lengths the Directorate is willing to go to assure compliance, and we will act accordingly.”
…
The next day in Elemental Science, Bryn noticed another one of Mr. Stanton’s seating charts on the board. Today she was grouped with Octavius, Rhianna, and Garret. It was probably the first time in a month she hadn’t been grouped with Jaxon. Maybe fate was finally smiling on her.
“Class, today you will learn to work together with your fellow dragons using your different breath weapons to solve a problem.” Mr. Stanton walked around the room and placed wooden boxes on the desks grouped together in sets of four. “Figure out the most effective ways to solve the puzzles. You want to open the boxes without destroying them or the object inside.”
Valmont pulled a chair up to sit beside Bryn. Octavius nodded at them. Rhianna smiled in greeting. Garret immediately picked up the box and studied it from all angles.
“How do you know it’s okay to turn the box upside-down like that?” Rhianna asked.
Garret paused. “Mr. Stanton turned the box over and around after setting it down which means whatever is inside isn’t bothered by motion.”
“I knew you’d have a reason,” Rhianna said, “I didn’t know what it was.”
The corners of Garret’s mouth turned up in an amused grin. “I am a Green. We rarely do anything without thinking about the repercussions first.”
“Did you think about the repercussions of forming a mixed Clan group?” Octavius asked.
Garret set the box down. “Yes, both negative and positive.”
This line of conversation was almost more interesting than the locked box. Bryn leaned close and spoke in a quiet tone lest Jaxon hear their conversation and throw some sort of hissy fit. “Which reaction have you seen more of?”
Garret traced his fingertips along the edge of the box before answering. “More positive, I think.” He flashed a grin at Rhianna, who returned the expression.
The old fear that Rhianna might run off with Garret, stranding her with Jaxon came knocking at Bryn’s subconscious.
“Back to the box,” Bryn said. “Anyone have an idea?”
“There’s a keyhole.” Octavius pointed at the side of the box. “I could direct a small sonic wave into it and see if it sets off the locking mechanism.”
“Has that worked for you before?” Bryn asked.
Octavius nodded. “Sometimes Orange dragons use keyless locking mechanisms which can only be opened by a particular pattern of sonic waves.”
Garret set the box down with the keyhole facing the Orange dragon. “Interesting. I’ve read about such things, but I’ve never seen it done. Give it a try.”
Laying his hand on top of the box, Octavius concentrated. Since his waves were invisible, Bryn didn’t see anything, but she felt vibrations go through the desks. The box however remained locked.
“That would have been so cool if it had worked,” Valmont said.
“Could the key be something hidden on the box?” Rhianna asked. “Like a recessed button of some sort?”
Garret waved at the box, indicating Rhianna was free to investigate. Funny how the Green dragon took charge when it was a puzzle of logic. Maybe that was innate to their Clan.
Rhianna inspected the box, running her hands over it. “I can’t find anything.”
“Could we make a key?” Bryn asked.
“Try using ice to fill the keyhole,” Garret said to Rhianna. “Maybe by adding a bit at a time you can jimmy the box open.”
Rhianna did as he suggested. When that didn’t work, she shoved the box toward Bryn. “Your turn.”
“What can I do that none of you can?” Bryn asked.
The sound of Valmont unsheathing his sword startled her.
“Calm down, I’m helping you assess your resources.” He held up the sword. “Think of it as a giant lock pick.”
Bryn laughed. “Why not?” She touched the tip of the blade to the seam where the lid met the rest of the box.
“Be careful,” Valmont warned.
Too late, Bryn’s hand stung as she received what felt like the mother of all paper cuts. She winced against the pain and pulled her hand back to inspect her thumb.
The sword glowed red as several drops of blood rolled into the keyhole and click, the box popped open.
“Your blood opened the box?” Garret sounded appalled and intrigued.
“So it would appear.” Bryn wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“And the glowing of your sword, was that normal?” Garret asked.
“I’ve never noticed it before, because as Bryn’s knight my job is to keep her from bleeding.” Valmont grabbed Bryn’s hand and kissed her fingertips. “Are you all right?”
A happy warmth flowed from her fingers to her heart. She felt her face heat. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Do you mind?” Garret gestured at the mysterious contents of the box, which were shrouded in black silk.
“Feel free.” Bryn wasn’t so sure she liked the box or its contents if it was after her blood.
Taking great care, Garret pulled away the silk cloth without touching whatever was inside.
“Another box?” Octavius’s deep voice broadcast his displeasure through the room.
“Someone else can bleed on this one,” Bryn stated.
“There’s a button on the side.” Rhianna pulled a pencil from her book bag and used the eraser to press the button.
Something gave an audible click and then a faint ticking sound emanated from the box.
Not good. Bryn pushed back from her desk, “Mr. Stanton,” she spoke loud enough to gain his attention, “tell me that’s not a bomb.”
“No bombs,” Mr. Stanton called out. “Just the puzzle mechanism.”
“Not that I don’t trust you,” Valmont said, “but Bryn has a certain history when it comes to things that go boom.”
Rhianna, Garret, and Octavius glanced at the smaller box nestled inside the bigger box which suddenly seemed ominous.
“Just to clarify,” Garret glanced at the other students huddled in small groups, “is anyone else’s box ticking?”
A quick glance around the room showed no one else had managed to open their box yet to reach the contents.
Garret slammed the lid shut on the big box. Rhianna blasted it with frozen flames encasing it and the entire desk in a giant block of ice.
Mr. Stanton sighed. “Students, while I understand your caution, I can assure you—”
Ka-Boom!
Shards of ice flew. Rhianna blasted more frozen flames creating a wall on one side of the desk.
Garret created a twister making the shards of ice turn back on themselves in a twisting motion. Bryn blasted flames at the shards of ice that escaped.
“On my mark, stop your wind,” Octavius yelled.
Garret nodded.
Octavius held his hands out, palms down. He moved closer to the twister and angled his hands so they were facing each other. “Now,” Octavius yelled.
The twister stopped, and it looked like invisible hands had crushed the ice and the desk into a tangled ball of wood. Bryn felt the wave through the soles of her shoes. The ball of wood ground together, pulverizing itself. The air pressure shifted. Bryn’s ears rang and then popped.
Where the desk and puzzle box had been, there was what appeared to be a small mound of wet sawdust.
Silence filled the room, and then footsteps sounded as Mr. Stanton approached and knelt down to touch the remains of their classroom project. “I’d say you earned an ‘A’ for teamwork today.”
Wait a minute. “That was the assignment?” Bryn asked.
“We did use our breath weapons to work together.” Garret frowned. “I’m not sure of the ethical implications of trying to blow up a classroom full of students.”
Mr. Stanton stood. “There was only a small charge in the box. It should have gone off like a balloon popping. Something you did increased the power of the explosion.”
“Bryn’s blood,” Rhianna said. “Somehow it changed the charge, making it more powerful.”
“What are you talking about?” Mr. Stanton asked.
Bryn explained how she’d cut herself on Valmont’s sword and how the box had opened.
Mr. Stanton shook his head. “That was not part of the plan. Wind would have opened the box if applied in the correct manner.”
“So the Quintessence in my blood increased the balloon pop to a small bomb?” Bryn waited for someone to correct her. They all just stared.
“So if I scratch myself and bleed, weird crap will happen?”
“Not all the time,” Mr. Stanton said. “I think this was an odd set of circumstances, combining your knight’s sword and the bond with your blood, but you probably shouldn’t ever mess around with fireworks.”
“Gee, thanks. That’s comforting.”
Thankfully, the rest of Bryn’s day was explosion free. That night, Bryn and her friends headed for the theater to help with the repairs. The meeting with Adam and Eve weighed on her mind. Should she ask questions if the answers might endanger herself and her friends? The stakes to the behind the scene espionage games she’d been playing now seemed far too high.
“Twenty bucks says there isn’t a Blue in the entire theater,” Clint said, sounding a lot more like himself.
They hadn’t talked about his pseudo-chemical lobotomy all day. Though he did seem 100 percent back to himself, which was a relief. Bryn hoped they could put the experience behind them, never to be repeated again.
“I’ll take that bet,” Valmont responded with a grin on his face. Did he know something she didn’t?
When they entered the auditorium, Bryn checked hair color. There wasn’t a blond in the vicinity.
“Pay up.” Clint held out his hand.
“Why would I pay you, when I won the bet?” Valmont said.
“What are you talking about? There isn’t a Blue in this room.” Clint looked around the area.
“Bryn’s grandmother is the Bluest of Blues, and she is standing right over there.”
Clint drew himself up. “That was sneaky and underhanded, and damn it, I wish I’d thought of it first.”
They all laughed. Bryn took Valmont’s hand and tugged him toward the area where people were painting. “I never thought I’d say this, but I want to paint.”
“Why?” her knight asked.
“It’s what I do at Stagecraft. After all the weirdness that’s been going on around here I’d like to have a little normalcy back in my life.”
“I think you and normal are polar opposites,” Valmont teased. “But, I kind of like it that way.”
“Bryn, I didn’t see you come in.”
Her grandmother’s voice had Bryn whirling around with a genuine smile on her face. “We’re here to paint.”
“You don’t have to paint,” her grandmother said.
“It’s not like I’d stand around and watch other people work.” Aw crap. Open mouth, insert both feet. “Besides. I like to paint. It’s relaxing.”
Her grandmother appeared unruffled. “Gardening has the same effect on me. Valmont, why don’t you grab supplies from the foreman over there, while I talk with Bryn.”
“I can do that.” Valmont took off like a shot. And she would so give him crap for that later.
“He’s such a nice young man,” her grandmother said. “You’re lucky to have a friend like him who is willing to look out for your best interests.”
Where was this going? And then Bryn saw a few members of the Blue women’s league standing nearby. Time to play her part, for her grandmother’s sake.
“He is a good friend,” Bryn said. “I feel safer knowing he’s watching out for me.”
When Valmont returned with paint supplies, he had Adam and Eve in tow. “Bryn, Mrs. Sinclair, this is Adam and his girlfriend Eve. I shanghaied them to help us paint.”
Everyone did the mandatory round of polite greetings, and then Bryn’s grandmother excused herself to check in with the foreman.
“Let’s work over there.” Bryn pointed to a section of wall away from where others were painting. It would give them some privacy, but not enough to ask the questions she wanted to ask. After everything that had happened with Clint, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to go down this path anymore. Okay, she desperately wanted to learn about other peaceful hybrids, but now the shadow of Ferrin and the Directorate blotted out some of her curiosity.
Eve dipped a roller in paint. “Your grandmother is impressive. I kept feeling the urge to curtsey.”
Bryn laughed. “I know what you mean. She is a force to be reckoned with.”
For a few moments, they rolled paint onto the walls without speaking. Valmont caved first. “I now know where the phrase, ‘this is about as fun as watching paint dry’ comes from. Painting is boring.”
“Where are you two from?” Bryn asked.
“We grew up in small town no one has ever heard of,” Eve said. “We live next door to each other, so we’ve known each other since we were little. We’re both only children, so we hung out together a lot.”
They made small talk and painted for half an hour. Then Bryn set her roller down. “That’s it. I need a snack.”
“Sounds good to me.” Eve dropped her roller in the mostly empty paint tray.
Adam stretched his arms over his head. “Looks like everyone had the same idea at the same time.” He pointed at the cafe tables, which had been set up by the snack table. Most of the seats were taken. “I’ll clean up. You three go grab seats.”
“Good idea.” Valmont kept his hand on Bryn’s lower back as they headed toward the tables. The warmth of his hand was reassuring. Her grandmother may not approve, but it could be passed off as a protective gesture.
“I’ll snag a table,” Eve said.
Bryn laughed when she saw the refreshments. Real china plates and actual utensils were set out alongside a buffet of appetizers. Glass tumblers sat beside pitchers of tea and lemonade.
Valmont gave a low whistle. “Talk about a gourmet snack table.”
“I’m sure my grandmother would say, if something is worth doing, it’s worth doing well.” Bryn piled two plates with mini quiches, crab cakes, and other golden brown bite-sized treats wrapped in fried dough. “I don’t know what these are, but I’m sure they’re wonderful.”
Valmont followed behind her, filling two more plates. “I’ll take care of the drinks.”
Having a boyfriend with the skills of a waiter came in handy. Bryn sucked in a breath. Did she just think of Valmont as her boyfriend? He was, kind of. But now wasn’t the time to ponder her relationship status.
When they returned to the table, Adam sat whispering to Eve.
Bryn set the plates in the middle of the table and passed out napkins and forks. “Everything all right?”
Adam picked up a mini quiche and studied it. “Everything is fine.”
Valmont arrived, passed out drinks, and shuffled the food on the four plates until each one held the same assortment. “Snacks are served.” He sat and sipped his lemonade.
“He’s handy to have around,” Eve said.
Adam popped the quiche in his mouth, chewed, and seemed to think about something. “I don’t know what that was, but I want more.” He glanced at the buffet table. “Do you think anyone would notice if we took the whole tray?”
“Bryn, I believe we’ve found you a kindred spirit.” Valmont clapped Adam on the back.
“He lives for food,” Eve confirmed. “And he loves to cook, which works out great since I screw up scrambled eggs.”
Valmont tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “How can you mess up scrambled eggs?”
Eve popped a crab puff into her mouth and shrugged.
This would be nice if Bryn could relax. It felt like she was waiting for a secret message or clandestine information. It didn’t help that Clint and Ivy were seated a few tables away, staring intently like they were trying to read everyone’s lips.
“You could invite your friends to join us,” Eve said. “It’s not like we’re divulging deep dark secrets.”
“No secrets?” Bryn said, playing it off as a joke. “That’s disappointing.”
“Not much to tell,” Adam said. “We grew up with a small group of Reds…exactly like us. Sparks is a tiny farm town with a main street, a few stores, and a couple dozen houses. There isn’t even a McDonald’s.”
“Is it like Dragon’s Bluff where everyone knows everything about everyone?” Valmont asked.
“Yes, and we’re all related in one way or another, so you have to check lineage before you ask someone on a date.” Adam playfully tugged on Eve’s ponytail. “I had my parent’s check Eve’s lineage when we were five.”
Bryn grinned and shook her head. “I can’t imagine living someplace that close-knit. My parents and I were pretty much on our own.” The familiar ache flared up in her chest. How different would her life have been if her parents had sought out a small off-the-map town with other dragons?
“Sorry about your parents,” Eve said.
Bryn nodded. “Thanks.” What else should she ask them? “Do you think you’ll move away from your town when you graduate?”
“No,” Eve said. “It’s home.”
“Are there other small towns with populations like yours?” She hoped they understood that she meant other hybrid towns.
Adam nodded. “There are several remote towns where everyone is related. I know of a few who live in the Green dorm and a few who live in the Black dorm.”
Which meant there were towns for hybrid Green and hybrid Black Dragons. “I’d love to visit one of those towns, to see what they’re like.”
“I wouldn’t try it without an invitation,” Eve said. “Small communities like ours are sometimes suspicious of outsiders. Given who your grandfather is, I’m not sure you’d be welcomed.”
At least now she knew there were other groups of good hybrids out there. “Thanks for talking to me about this.”
“We needed someone to know that we aren’t all bad, and you were the only dragon likely to believe us. Not to be rude,” he stood, “but we should be going.”
They said their good-byes and left.
“That was interesting.” Valmont leaned back in his seat. “Do we have to paint more, or can we be done?” He gave her puppy dog eyes.
She laughed. “We can be done.” Bryn waved Clint and Ivy over. “I’m going to say good-bye to my grandmother, and then we can go back to my room.”
As she worked her way across the room, Bryn saw her grandmother arch a brow at whatever one of the women told her. Then she spotted Bryn and smiled. It was a genuine, warm smile, one she wouldn’t have thought her grandmother capable of when they’d first met.
“Are you finished painting?” her grandmother asked.
“Yes. I wanted to give you a hug and say good-bye before I went back to my room.”
The other women stiffened a bit, because public displays of affection weren’t a Blue characteristic, which was too bad. Without seeming the least bit affected by her friends’ reactions, Bryn’s grandmother gave her a hug and even kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t forget about Lillith’s baby shower this Sunday.”
This was news to her. Not that she didn’t want to go ’cause she did. “Did my invitation go missing in the mail?” She was joking, sort of.
“No. You were included in the invitation, which came to our house. I thought Jaxon would have told you.”
Bryn snorted. “He’s a guy. I don’t think baby showers are on his radar. But that doesn’t matter. The shower should be fun.”
An evil grin lit her grandmother’s face. “As payback for his lack of manners, the next time you see Jaxon, tell him he’s required to attend the shower, and it’s at Suzette’s.”
Bryn laughed. “Should I have Valmont take a picture of his face as I deliver the news?”
“Yes.” Her grandmother grinned. “On a serious note, I will meet you at your room, and we’ll go down to the car together Sunday at eleven.”
Good plan, since the last time she’d climbed into a car the driver had tried to murder her. And since he’d been killed during her rescue she still didn’t have a freaking clue why he’d done it. But, now wasn’t the time to dwell on that.
“I’ll see you Sunday.”
Bryn met up with her friends, and they headed back to her dorm.
“Did you find out anything you think is worth sharing?” Ivy asked from the corner of the couch where she sat with Clint.
Bryn couldn’t help but notice that Ivy had lost some of her enthusiasm, which was kind of sad but totally understandable. Best to keep the information she shared simple.
She told her about Sparks, where Adam and Eve lived and the confirmation that other hybrid communities existed. “So, not much to tell, really.”
“Let’s cut the crap,” Clint said.
“What do you mean?” Ivy asked.
“I know you’re scared. Hell, we all have a far better respect for the Directorate and the lengths they’ll go to in order to keep us in line, but that doesn’t mean I want to fall in line and be a good little soldier. If there is information out there about other hybrids, I want to know.”
“Are you sure?” Bryn asked. “I don’t want to be responsible for your marriage contract being voided.”
“If you start to share anything that makes us uncomfortable, we’ll stop you,” Clint said. “That way I get to decide how in the dark I am, not Ferrin.”
“Okay.” Bryn wasn’t sure Ivy felt the same way.
“Do you think Adam and Eve’s entire town of dragons is like them?” Clint asked.
“How would that even be possible?” Valmont added.
“I don’t know.” Bryn closed her eyes and tried to figure it out. “What if some of the mistresses managed to become pregnant?”
“Their benefactors would have to be okay with that,” Ivy said. “And I can’t picture a Blue being okay with that at all.”
“But we aren’t talking about Blues. We’re talking about Black and Reds, who seem far more…” Valmont frowned. “What’s the word I’m looking for?
“More reasonable, less volatile, far better looking,” Clint said.
Bryn laughed, happy to have the old Clint back. “Even though Reds and Blacks aren’t as anal as Blues, I can’t imagine they’d risk discovery.”
Ivy bit her lip, like she was thinking hard about something. “Maybe they’re dragons who have lived apart from the Directorate their entire lives. Maybe they snuck under the radar and lived in quiet communities. Adam and Eve told you about Sparks. Who’s to say there isn’t a bigger community of Reds and Blacks hidden someplace else.”
“Once you have one hybrid dragon, and they marry and have kids, their children will be hybrids, and when those kids marry, their kids will be hybrids, so this could have started with one hybrid a long time ago,” Valmont said.
“That sounds like one of those story problems from math.” Clint laughed. “If one hybrid dragon has two kids and they marry and each have two kids and the cycle continues, then one day there might be enough of them to populate a town, or take on the Directorate.”
“And the ones taking on the Directorate would be endangering the peaceful ones who attend school and try to blend in,” Bryn said.
“Which is why your grandfather and his cronies can never find out about Adam and Eve,” Clint said.