Chapter Twenty
After lunch, Bryn followed her grandmother, Lillith, and a mutinous Jaxon to a small dress store off the main street.
“I didn’t know there were stores back here,” Bryn said.
“It’s not a store, it’s a boutique.” Rather than reach for the door handle, her grandmother pressed what looked like a doorbell. The saleswoman glanced up from the cash register when she heard the bell and flew across the room to unlock the doors.
“Mrs. Sinclair, how lovely to see you.” Jaxon and his mother walked in. “And the Westgates—it’s always a pleasure when you stop by. What can I help you with today?”
With all that sucking up, the woman must work on commission.
“I need a Christmas gown for my granddaughter.”
The saleswoman glanced at the door, like she was searching for another person. Bryn cleared her throat, and the woman put the puzzle pieces together. “Sorry, I expected someone more…”
“Blond?” Bryn said with a grin.
“Yes.” She swallowed and seemed to regain her composure. “Come with me. I’m sure we have something perfect for you.”
Right.
The woman whisked her off to a dressing room and then returned with a dozen dresses. Wait. Not dresses. They were gowns…actual ball gowns made of what she knew had to be real silk. Every single one had ruffles or sequins or lace. The bodices were stiff and the skirts were floor length.
None of them looked like something her grandmother might wear. Was this a test?
“Excuse me, I need to ask my grandmother a question.” She stuck her head out of the dressing room. “Do the gowns have to be so…frilly?”
“Frilly?” Her grandmother frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The dresses are age appropriate,” the saleslady said.
“I’m sure these dresses would be lovely for someone else. I’d prefer something without ruffles, or lace, or sequins.” She looked at her grandmother. “Unless you disagree. I’ve never been to a ball before, so maybe I don’t understand what’s expected.”
Her grandmother shot the saleslady a look that would’ve reduced a small child to tears. “Remove those gowns from the dressing room and find Bryn a strapless silk sheath dress in a dignified color.”
“Of course. My mistake.” The saleslady scurried off to do as her grandmother asked. When she was out of hearing range, Bryn said, “One of the dresses had ruffles and lace and sequins. I think there might have been some feathers mixed in as well.” She shuddered. “It was awful.”
“Was it lavender?” Lillith asked.
Bryn nodded.
“That dress has been here forever. I think they’ve been trying to pawn it off on some poor girl for the last twenty years.”
The saleslady returned with a handful of dresses. Tight-lipped, she hung them in the dressing room and then retreated to the cash register.
Bryn examined her choices. This was more like it.
There was an emerald sleeveless gown that resembled something an actress might wear on the red carpet. Could she pull it off? Only one way to find out. Stripping out of her clothes, Bryn slid into the whisper soft silk. She checked the three-way mirror and did a small happy dance. The dress fit like a glove. The knee-length slit allowed her to walk without shuffling her feet.
She stepped out of the dressing room. “What do you think?”
Lillith clapped her hands together. “It’s lovely.”
Head tilted to the side, her grandmother scanned Bryn from head to toe. “Turn around.”
Ignoring the resentment she felt at being ordered around like a puppy, Bryn did as her grandmother asked. When she completed the rotation she expected to find her grandmother nodding in approval. This was not the case.
“Tell me those tattoos aren’t permanent,” her grandmother said.
Bryn’s throat grew tight. Zavien had drawn the tattoos with permanent marker. Bryn used her skill with Quintessence to keep them vibrant, thereby avoiding needles. She’d requested the image of the Blue and Red dragons, head to tail in a yin-yang circle, because it represented who she was. Zavien had added a small black dragon on her right shoulder signifying she was an honorary Black dragon. She could remove the black dragon, but the yin-yang dragons representing her mixed parentage stayed.
“Do you dislike tattoos in general, or mine in particular?”
“Both.” Shoulders squared, her grandmother appeared ready to do battle.
Bryn took a deep breath and blew it out. There were going to be bumps in this road to reunion, but in the end it would be worth it. Hopefully. “If you can give a little, I’ll give a little. The yin-yang dragons stay, and I’ll make the smaller one disappear.”
“I’d prefer it the other way around.” Her grandmother straightened the sleeve of her blouse.
“It represents who I am.” Bryn smoothed her hands over the skirt of the gown. “Even if I remove the tattoo, people will know who my parents are. I won’t hide my heritage to make others comfortable.”
Fingers drumming on the armrest of the couch, her grandmother’s lips set in a thin line. “Fine. Now, let’s talk about your hair color, or colors. Perhaps you could pick one?”
That did it. Bryn concentrated and shifted the Quintessence in her body to color her hair neon green. “Like this, you mean?”
Lillith seemed overcome by a coughing fit, to hide her laughter.
Her grandmother reached up to rub the bridge of her nose. “You are your mother’s daughter. Aren’t you?”
“I am.” Maybe this wasn’t going to work. A hollow feeling settled in her stomach. “If you want someone to smile and nod, I’m not your girl.”
“You’re the only granddaughter I have. My hope is you’ll mature and grow out of this odd hair phase. For now, change your hair back, and eliminate the smaller tattoo.” Her grandmother turned to face the saleslady. “We need shoes and a small, tasteful handbag.”
“Emerald green is such a lovely color.” Lillith touched Jaxon’s shoulder. “A bow tie in that color would be striking with your black tuxedo.”
“No.” Jaxon spoke in a voice that mimicked his father’s.
Lillith snatched her hand back like she’d been burned. Her eyes filled with tears.
Jaxon sighed. “I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t mean to sound harsh. Rhianna is still my date, and my bow tie will match her gown.”
Damn it. There Jaxon went again, doing something nice.
“I appreciate your loyalty, young man, but the argument is pointless,” Bryn’s grandmother said. “This morning I received word Rhianna and her family will be traveling to Europe over the holidays. Be that as it may, the tradition of matching bow ties to gowns may be appropriate for school dances, but not for an actual ball.”
Lillith sniffled. “Ferrin matches his ties to my gowns.”
Her grandmother gave a tight smile. “I see. Perhaps I am old-fashioned in my thinking. If you wish to buy Jaxon the matching emerald bow tie, please do.”
“I don’t believe Father would find an emerald bow tie amusing. If you’ll excuse me, I have homework to complete.” Jaxon headed for the door, pushing it open so hard it bounced against the wall and rattled the glass in the windowpanes.
“He has a temper like his father,” Lillith said.
“Which is why I wish you’d stop trying to fix us up. If you keep pushing Jaxon and me together, one of us won’t come out alive.”
Bryn’s grandmother rose and came toward her until they were arm’s length apart. “Do you enjoy flying?”
Was this a trick question? “Yes.”
“Do you still want to become a medic?”
Not knowing what was coming, Bryn nodded and waited for her grandmother to move in for the kill.
“And do you think your parents enjoy their isolation? Don’t they miss flying?”
She’d never thought of her parents in those terms before. When did they have time to fly? The simple fact that she’d never suspected they were anything but human told her how infrequent their flights must have been. A weight of sadness pressed on her heart.
“I can see it in your eyes. You realize now what they gave up. You will marry whomever the Directorate chooses if you wish to live this life.”
“Are you trying to blackmail me?”
“No.” Her grandmother reached to cup her chin. “I’m trying to save you. Understand this: marriage is a legal contract that produces children. Nothing more. Love isn’t part of the equation.”
Bryn felt her nails digging into her palms and unclenched her fists. “Did you ever love your husband?”
“No. And I’m better off for it.” Leaning in, her grandmother pressed a light kiss on her cheek. “I’ll have your gown delivered to our estate. You can dress there before the ball.”
Her grandmother exited the boutique.
“She’s right, you know,” Lillith said.
The blond woman looked so fragile sitting on the couch alone.
Bryn joined her. “Right about what?”
“It’s better not to love someone who can’t love you back.” Lillith sighed and averted her gaze. “When my contract with Ferrin was approved, I thought myself the luckiest girl in the world. He was so handsome. When he came to call on me at school, he was the perfect gentleman. All my classmates were jealous.
“It wasn’t until we were married that I noticed his lack of warmth. At first, I thought I’d done something wrong. Gradually I came to realize he’d never recovered from your mother’s defection. I could never live up to her memory. So I stopped trying.”
Not knowing what else to say, Bryn went with her gut. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. I have a good life. My son loves me. And I have another child on the way. I’m happy. You could be happy with Jaxon.”
It was difficult to swallow over the lump in her throat. Lillith and her grandmother meant well, but a loveless life would never be enough. “There is no way Ferrin will allow me to marry Jaxon.” Thank God. “It’s silly to discuss this.”
“A few weeks ago, I would’ve agreed. Rhianna’s accident opened a door for you. Jaxon is handsome, smart, and loyal.”
Bryn sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s stubborn and he has a foul temper.”
A slow grin spread across Lillith’s face. “Must be like looking in a mirror.”
Not like she could argue that point. “Fine. Our temperaments are similar. That alone should be reason for us not to marry. Think about how obnoxious your grandchildren would be.”
“I know you respect my son,” Lillith went on, ignoring Bryn’s argument. “And he respects you. That is a good foundation for a relationship.”
This conversation was going nowhere. Bryn pushed to her feet. “Believe what you will. I’m going to change out of this dress, go back to Fonzoli’s and spend time with Valmont.”
When she reached the restaurant there was a line out the door of people waiting to be seated. Crap. Maybe she could sneak in the back. The door to the kitchen stood wide open to let the heat out. Should she go in?
Valmont’s grandfather saw her and waved her inside, spouting something in Italian. The only word she understood was “Valmont.”
The door to the dining room swung open and Valmont strode in. Just seeing him made her feel better. When he looked up and grinned, her stress melted away. His single dimple was like therapy. The hug he pulled her into felt heavenly. He smelled like Italian spices.
“Come with me. I want to show you something.” He grabbed her hand like it was the most normal thing in the world and led her through a door at the back of the kitchen and up a flight of narrow wooden stairs.
“Where are we going?”
“My secret sanctuary.” At the top of the stairs, Valmont produced a key from his shirt pocket and unlocked the door before gesturing for Bryn to go in. “Ladies first.”
A strange sense of déjà vu came over her. Jaxon had said those same words outside the baby clothing store, but hadn’t meant them. Jerk. Valmont meant it.
The polished oak floors and walls of the attic room gleamed in the light. A marble-topped table sat in the middle of the room. The matching chairs were black cast-iron with gray cushions. She blinked. It was patio furniture.
A glider swing sat in the far corner of the room with matching chairs. Colorful pots of roses and other flowers were scattered around the room on small tables or lined up against the baseboards. Their sweet scents permeated the room. “It’s a garden. How’s that possible?”
“Look up,” Valmont said.
The roof was punctuated with rows of windows. There were so many, and so evenly spaced, the ceiling resembled a checkerboard made of light and dark squares.
“I love it.”
“My grandmother loves to garden, so my grandfather built this room as a wedding gift so she would always have a garden no matter the season.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Why don’t you pick a chair, and I’ll go fix us a couple of cappuccinos.”
“Sounds good.” She wandered the room smelling different flowers. Several roses were in full bloom, and half a dozen buds appeared ready to burst. She touched a red rose, channeling a bit of Quintessence into the soil. The buds burst open and their fragrance filled the air.
Maybe she could become a florist or a gardener. Beautiful flowers made people happy. If she was a florist or a gardener, she could move back to the human world and leave this entire mess behind. But then she wouldn’t be able to fly whenever she wanted or become a medic. Damn her grandmother for putting those thoughts into her head.
The sound of Valmont’s footsteps on the stairs kept her from trying her skills on another plant. He entered the room carrying a small tray with two steaming cups of cappuccino, sugar, and cream.
She inhaled the rich coffee scent. “That smells fabulous.”
Once they were seated at the table, he seemed content to drink his coffee in silence. After a few minutes, she couldn’t take the quiet. “What does your family do for Christmas?”
“I have a sister and an older brother who are married. Between them they have three boys and two girls. Christmas Eve, my parents, siblings, and all the assorted nieces and nephews squeeze into my grandparents’ house, eat until we’re about to burst, and then have a ping-pong tournament.”
“Ping-pong?”
He grinned. “My grandmother is the undefeated champion.”
“That sounds nice.”
“What does your family do?”
“Normally, my parents and I string popcorn to decorate the tree, bake cookies, and play board games. This year, I’m trying to make nice with my grandmother, so I’m going to her house.”
Valmont cringed. “Sorry to hear that.”
She laughed. “It’s funny. If you’d asked me six months ago if I wanted to wear a gown and attend a Christmas Eve ball, I would’ve jumped at the chance. Now all I want to do is go home.”
“You could come play ping-pong with us. I guarantee the food and the company will be better.”
In her mind she could see herself laughing and eating dinner with Valmont’s family. “Wish I could. But if I want to have any sort of relationship with my grandparents, I must go to the ball.” She shook her head. “My life is the weirdest fairy tale ever.”
Crash. Glass rained down on them. Bryn jumped back, knocking her chair over as a baseball-sized piece of hail smacked into the table.
“What the hell?” She met Valmont’s gaze. They both glanced up.
Crash. Crash. Crash. Glass flew as hail smashed through the windows. Valmont lunged for her, and together, they ran for the stairs. Once they were on the landing, he slammed the door to the greenhouse room. The crashing sound was muffled, but the pounding on the roof grew louder. People in the restaurant screamed. Valmont and Bryn ran down the stairs.
Valmont’s grandfather was shouting in Italian, and waving his hands directing customers who’d been in the dining room to cram into the kitchen. The back door had been shut, and wooden shutters had been closed in front of the windows.
Bryn ran to look in the dining room. Two girls huddled under a table, crying. They couldn’t have been more than six years old. Where was their mom? Hail flew in through the gaping hole where the window used to be and smacked down on the table, splintering the wood.
“Valmont, I’m going to blow fire at that window to keep the hail away while you grab those girls. All right?”
“Give me a minute.” He ran back into the kitchen and came out with a pot on his head. He placed one on her head and held a smaller pot in each hand.
“Good thinking,” she said. “Ready?”
“Let’s go.”
She took a deep breath and thought of the idiots who were playing with peoples’ lives. Fire roared in her gut and up her throat. She inhaled and then blasted a stream of fire over the table at the window, slowly walking toward it. As the hailstones hit her flames, they hissed and melted into steam. Valmont, keeping low to the ground, ran to the girls and put the makeshift helmets on their heads. With one girl under each arm, he ran back to the kitchen.
Once they were safe, Bryn moved toward the window.
“Bryn, what are you doing?”
Answering him would mean stopping her flames. The anger fueling her pyrotechnics raged inside her. She kept going until she reached the window and checked the street. Crouched against walls and in doorways, dragons of every color used their breath weapons to keep the hail at bay. None of them appeared to need her help, so she stayed where she was.
The hail banging on the rooftops was deafening. Then, as if someone threw a switch, the hail stopped. Ears ringing, Bryn turned to find Valmont behind her wearing a soup pot on his head. The pissed-off expression he wore, combined with his odd headgear, made her laugh.
“What’s so funny?” The pot shifted so it covered his eyes. “Oh.” He pulled the pot off and took hers off, too. “I suppose that did look ridiculous.”
“But it was smart.” She pointed back toward the kitchen. “Are the girls okay?”
A solemn look crossed his face. “Their mom told them not to leave the table while she ran down the street to buy something. Unfortunately, they listened too well.”
“Do you think their mom is okay?”
“I hope so.” People started filtering out of the kitchen, picking up their belongings and righting the tables and chairs. “I better get a broom.”
“Wait.” Bryn pointed to a group of Green dragons. “You three. Use your wind to push all the debris into a pile.”
The girl in the group opened her mouth, but Bryn cut her off. “Do it now.”
One of the Green males cleared his throat. “If everyone would go back in the kitchen for a moment, we’ll clean this up.”
Bryn and Valmont returned to the kitchen as well, but stood in the doorway to supervise. The Greens directed wind from their hands to push all the debris into the back corner. In five minutes, they’d cleared the floor.
“Thank you.” Valmont nodded to the Greens. “Much appreciated.” He pointed at the waist-high pile of glass and splintered wood. “I’m going to need a bigger dustpan.”
The rest of the patrons cleared out.
“I’ll drive you back to school,” Valmont said. “I’m sure they’ll be checking to make sure all the students are safe.”
“Please tell me your car is safe in a garage.” The idea of his cherry-red convertible banged to pieces made her ill.
“It is, but I’ll drive my dad’s truck, in case the hail comes again.”
“Maybe you should keep some soup pots in the trunk of your car for emergencies.”
…
After Valmont dropped her off, she signed in at the back gate and headed to her dorm, intent on finding Clint and Ivy. They were waiting for her in the first-floor lounge. Ivy zoomed across the room to hug her.
“From now on, we’re all going places together.” Ivy’s voice shook.
Bryn hugged her friend back. “I was inside at Fonzoli’s. I’m okay.” She stepped back from Ivy. “Where were you guys?”
Ivy blushed. “We were studying.”
Right. “Did anyone get hurt?”
“You didn’t hear?” Clint asked.
The hair on the back of her neck stood up. “Hear what?”
“The hail came on so fast…students who were flying got beaten up pretty bad. Garrett…the hailstones…” Clint cleared his throat and looked away. “He’s lost the use of his right wing.”
“No.” Bryn didn’t feel her legs give out, but the next thing she knew, she was sitting on the floor. This could not be happening. “In Dragon’s Bluff, it wasn’t so bad. Windows were smashed, but everyone found shelter.”
“Everyone to your rooms, please.” A guard bellowed from the front door. Dark circles ringed his eyes, like he was recovering from a broken nose. “If any of your friends are missing let the staff or one of us know.”
Bryn rushed over to him. “Can I help the medics?”
Pain shone from the man’s eyes. “It is my understanding that those who are still injured are beyond help.”
Tears flooded her eyes. What would happen to Garrett and anyone else who was permanently injured? Before she could ask, the guard turned and left.
Bryn, Ivy, and Clint all stayed in her room together that night. The next morning, classes were canceled and the dining hall was closed. Students were to stay in their dorms and eat at the first-floor cafés.
An air of disbelief and misery seemed to float through the first-floor lounge where Bryn, Clint, and Ivy sat picking at their breakfast of submarine sandwiches.
“Okay. In the big scheme of things, I know this is petty, but I miss eggs and bacon.” Clint picked the onions off his sandwich.
“Thank God they have coffee.” Bryn sipped her second cup. She could eat anything for breakfast as long as caffeine was part of the deal.
“We’ve had wind, ice, and earthquakes. Does that mean fire or lightning is next?” Ivy asked.
Fire was self-explanatory. “What form will lightning take? A giant storm, or bolts of electricity zapping everything?”
“If you were still privileged enough to be enrolled in history class, you’d know that Black dragons used storms to cover their attacks. It’s a two-for-one whammy. Drench everything with water and then light it up.”
“So it’s electrocution or fire. Great.” Bryn finished off her bag of chips. None of this made sense. “Have the Clans ever worked together before to attack the Directorate?”
“That’s the weird thing,” Clint said, “or one of the weirdest of all the weird things going on right now. The Clans have always played their separate roles.”
“Not true,” Ivy said. “The Clans fought among themselves and against each other when they were trying to keep territories, before the Accords were drawn up. Each Clan settled in a specific territory and sent a representative to marry into another Clan.”
“This sounds vaguely familiar.” Bryn rolled her eyes. She’d been kicked out of history class over this topic. The teacher had claimed that crossbreeding couldn’t produce a functional shape-shifting dragon, even though Bryn had been sitting right in front of her. Wait a minute. She scooted closer to her friends so she wouldn’t be overheard. “I heard a folk tale that those dragons who married into other Clans had children with unusual powers and that one of them, Wraith Nightshade, tried to take over everything and make himself king. In the end, he was killed, and that’s when the Directorate was formed to make sure nothing like that happened again.”
“And if that’s true, if any of those hybrid kids survived and married, they’d produce more hybrids.” Clint glanced around. “We probably shouldn’t be talking about this out here.”
“Okay, no more hybrid talk.” Bryn leaned back in her seat. “Why are these attacks happening? Why are they hurting students? We have no power. If someone is pissed off at the people in control, why aren’t they going after them?”
Ivy shoved her sandwich away. “My best guess is they want to scare our parents, so they’ll demand the Directorate do something. And if the Directorate fails, our parents, or some of them at least, will rebel.”
Doubtful. Most of the dragons seemed to bow down to the Directorate pretty readily. Even Zavien, who was supposed to be the leader of the student Revisionists, was just an errand boy who delivered petitions to the Directorate. And that’s when it hit her. She hadn’t thought to ask about Zavien since she’d gotten back. Was that bad or good?
“What do you think the Directorate’s next move will be?” Bryn asked.
“I imagine they’ll find a way for us to go back to classes tomorrow,” Clint said, “but I doubt we’ll be able to go to Dragon’s Bluff for a while, or go flying.”
“I wonder if they’ll still let us go home for Christmas next week,” Ivy said. “I mean, they have to, right?”
“Of course.” Clint put his arm around Ivy’s shoulders. “Do you think the Directorate wants to deal with a bunch of surly teenagers griping about missing Christmas?”
“They’re attacking the school because we’re like sitting ducks here. We’re probably safer spread out in different cities,” Bryn said.
Clint and Ivy gave her the “you don’t have a clue” look, which she hadn’t seen in a while and hadn’t missed. “What? You all live in some color-coded apartment complex?”
“No.” Ivy leaned into Clint. “The Blues stick to their estates, which are scattered in the forest surrounding the institute. Clint and I live in a town about twenty minutes from here called Lakeview Hills.”
“Because there are hills that overlook a lake?” Bryn asked.
“Yes. It’s a bunch of three-bedroom houses and parks. The business district is one town over in Emberville. A lot of dragons live in apartments or condos close to where they work. There are a few small villages mixed in throughout the forest. I mean really small, like just a mom-and-pop store and a gas station with one blinking stoplight.”
“So dragons mostly populate small areas and keep to themselves.” Speaking of people keeping to themselves, Bryn needed to email her parents and break the news about Christmas Eve.
“What’s wrong?” Ivy asked.
“I have to tell my parents I won’t be home for Christmas Eve. It’s always been just the three of us.” The depth of her parents’ isolation finally became clear to her. “I never thought about it before. How lonely they must be.”
“Do they seem lonely?” Clint asked. “Because the way you described them, they seemed happy.”
“I thought they were. Now I realize they’ve never had any close friends.”
“Given a choice of marrying Ferrin or keeping to yourself, which would you choose?” Ivy asked.
“Good point.” Maybe she was projecting her own feelings on her parents. They’d never seemed unhappy when she was growing up. “I think I’ll call them tonight to tell them about Christmas.”
Later that night in her room, she made the call. No one answered, so she left a message and decided to email them. She explained that she’d come home on the twenty-second, fly back to her grandparents’ estate for the Christmas Eve ball, and then come home later that night so she’d be there to open presents Christmas morning. After sending the email, she waited for a reply. None came. They were probably out Christmas shopping.
That brought a puzzle to mind. How could she shop if she wasn’t allowed to leave campus? If she had a credit card, she could shop online. She crossed her fingers for luck and pulled out her Dragon’s Bluff credit card. Sure enough, there was a Web address, which allowed her to shop online at several stores. First she needed to check her balance. Her parents didn’t have that much to give her. Before she tried to order Christmas presents, she should check her limit.
After typing in her information, she gaped at the screen. The number for her account had far too many zeros at the end. She checked her account’s history and saw the modest balance she’d begun with. The extreme jump in her funds had come after her grandparents had recognized her. Huh… That was weird. It was nice that they were willing to help out with her expenses, but why hadn’t they mentioned it?
She’d ask her grandmother about it later. Right now, she’d shop. First, she ordered a giant tin of caramel corn from Snacks Galore and several frozen pizzas from Fonzoli’s to be shipped to her parents.
Now, what to get Clint and Ivy? An art set would work for Ivy. For Clint, she bought a T-shirt that looked like a tuxedo jacket and shirt when you put it on. Since he’d made such a big deal out of hating to wear a tuxedo to the dance, maybe he’d find it funny. Guys were hard to buy for. That left Valmont and her grandparents to shop for. For Valmont, she found a rug that would match the pillows his sister gave him as a housewarming gift for his cabin. For her grandparents…she had no clue. What did you buy people who had two ballrooms?
After scrolling through multiple Web pages, she settled on a gardening club membership for her grandmother, which sent one plant a month in the mail. Gardening was the only hobby she knew her grandmother had. For her grandfather, she bought a dessert-of-the-month-club membership, since he seemed to like food as much as she did. Was that lame? Probably, but it would do until she came up with a better idea.
The next morning, Bryn didn’t know if she had class or not. She showered and dressed just in case. When she wandered down to the café for breakfast, it was empty. A sign posted in the café informed her classes would resume at normal times and the dining hall was open. “Nice of them to let us all know.”
Should she run and knock on Ivy’s door? Ivy and Clint coming down the stairs answered that question. They checked out the café. Bryn pointed at the sign.
“Okay.” Clint yawned and walked toward the front door of the dorm with Ivy in tow.
The mood in the dining hall was cautiously optimistic. Students talked about leaving school at the end of the week.
“How did your parents take the news about Christmas Eve?” Ivy asked as they filled their plates at the buffet.
Bryn drenched her pancakes in syrup before adding a pile of bacon to her plate. “They haven’t answered yet. I don’t know if they’re busy, or if they don’t know how to respond.” A nervous feeling plagued her stomach. That didn’t stop her from eating her weight in pancakes. As her mom once told her, when she’d explained that dragons could eat as much as they want and not gain weight, there are few problems in life sugar and fat can’t solve.
“How are you getting home?” Clint asked.
Bryn paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. “I hadn’t thought of that. Zavien and Garrett flew with me the first time.” Zavien was out of the picture. Garrett, well, he wouldn’t be flying anywhere. She pushed her food away. “Has there been any news on Garrett?”
“They allowed the injured students to leave school early for the holidays,” Clint said.
Allowed to leave? Probably more like shooed them out of sight. Sadness for Garrett and Rhianna slammed into her chest. “It’s all so wrong.”
They finished breakfast in silence.