Chapter Ten
Saying goodbye to her parents was a tearful affair, but it helped that she now knew she could see them again. Once she was back in her room, she felt emotionally exhausted but wired. She was sitting on her couch reading the book Miss Enid had given her when her phone rang.
Clint’s voice came through the phone loud and clear and slightly panicked. “I think Ivy over-exerted herself growing the trees. She’s fallen asleep on my couch and I can’t wake her up.”
“Oh my God. Did you send for a Medic?”
“Yes. They’re on their way, but waiting by myself is making me crazy.”
“If it wasn’t past curfew I’d be there in a heartbeat,” Bryn said.
“I know. Can you just stay on the phone with me?”
“Sure.” She’d never heard Clint so flustered.
“Distract me,” Clint said. “Tell me about Garret’s new wing.”
Bryn rambled about how cool the new wing was. Clint made sounds like he was listening, and then she heard a knock in the background.
“Leave the phone off the hook so I can hear,” Bryn said.
Clint didn’t answer, but she heard the phone land on a hard surface, probably the table, and that was followed by the sound of people talking. A few words drifted through the phone but most of it was unclear. Bryn waited not-so-patiently for Clint to come back on the line. Maybe she could just dash over to Ivy’s room, but her grandparents would have a fit if she was caught out after curfew. She paced back and forth, waiting to hear something. Finally, someone came on the line.
“Bryn, this is Medic Williams. Ivy is fine. In her untrained enthusiasm she spent too much of her Quintessence growing those trees. I want to track down the Orange who let an inexperienced student do something like this, but Ivy can’t remember the woman’s name. Did you catch it?”
“No. I don’t think she introduced herself while I was there.”
“This is disturbing. Since all this information will go into an official file, don’t be surprised if you’re called in for questioning.” And then Bryn was listening to the dial tone.
That was weird. It’s not like the Orange would have done this to Ivy on purpose. They’d probably track the woman down and warn her about working with untrained students. Poor Ivy. She’d seemed so excited about working on the trees. They probably wouldn’t let her do it again.
Ten minutes later, Bryn’s phone rang again. She answered, expecting it to be Ivy.
“It’s Clint again. Ivy is sleeping.”
“She’s all right?”
“Yes, but something is bothering me. And it might be my overactive imagination, and the fact that I’ve been reading about Silvers—”
“No way.” Bryn sucked in a breath as she guessed where he was going with this. “I mean that lady did have her hand on Ivy’s to help her grow the tree, but the tree actually grew, so she had to be funneling Quintessence out, not sucking it in. Right?”
“After you left, the woman kept her hand on Ivy’s forearm, supposedly to guide her. I sat there thinking ‘what a nice Orange dragon.’ Most of them are standoffish and kind of quiet, but this lady was really nice…almost too nice.”
“Now my brain is spinning, too,” Bryn said. “Do you think I should call my grandfather and mention this?”
“You could, but I’d hate to get a nice Orange in trouble, if we’re just being paranoid.”
What should she do? Bryn frowned. “Should we wait and ask Ivy what she wants us to do?”
“It might be better if you did it while she’s sleeping. If she were awake she’d try to talk you out of it. She’s kind of embarrassed about the whole thing.”
Bryn sat on the couch and tried to consider this from all angles. “Medic Williams will file a report that someone on the Directorate will read, so my grandfather will hear about it sooner or later. I think I’ll call him because if I don’t and this ends up being an issue and he finds out that I knew and didn’t say anything, he’ll be mad.”
“Your life is so complicated,” Clint said. “I trust you. Do what you think is best. I’m going to lay down with Ivy. We’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow.”
“See you.” Should she call her grandparents? She paced back and forth in the living room. Was she being paranoid? Probably, but “better safe than sorry” was a saying for a reason. Bryn dialed her grandparents’ estate and spoke to Rindy the magical phone operator, who always sounded so happy to take everyone’s calls. The woman must be on some type of medication. No one could be that happy to answer the phone.
“Just a moment, Bryn, and I’ll put you through to your grandfather.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Rindy said, like she actually meant it.
“Hello, Bryn. What’s wrong?”
She hated to think that she only called when something was wrong. She’d have to remember to call when good things were happening, too. Bryn told him about Ivy and about how Clint happened to read an article about the Quintessence-sucking cult of Silver dragons. “And we could totally be blowing this out of proportion, but I figured I should at least mention it to you on the off-chance it could be true.”
Her grandfather was silent for so long that she thought maybe he’d put the phone down and walked away. “Should I not have bothered you?”
“No. I’m glad you called. As far as I know, the Institute didn’t schedule any Oranges to help mature the trees. That doesn’t mean a few well-meaning dragons wouldn’t show up and help of their own volition. Keep an eye out for this woman who worked with Ivy. I’ll scan the film from the remaining security cameras to see if we can discern her identity.”
“Are there still cameras all over campus?” Bryn asked. It made her a little paranoid to think someone was always watching.
“Some were destroyed during the attack on campus and not all of them were replaced. Oranges are so rare these days that if a pair of adults were roaming the campus someone would have taken notice. Good night, Bryn.”
“Good night.”
Bryn took her book to bed and read until she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer.
…
The next morning at breakfast, Ivy looked like her normal self as she ate her way through a plate of French toast. “All better?” Bryn asked.
“Yes.” Ivy’s face colored. “Clint told me about your far-fetched idea. I’d hate to think that nice old lady was a villain. She seemed to care so much about the trees. She talked about them like they had souls.”
Bryn sipped her coffee while she thought about what they knew. “She did seem nice. Hopefully, we’re just being paranoid. Although that doesn’t usually seem to be the case, if I’m involved.”
“You are sort of a harbinger of doom,” Clint said.
“I am not.” Bryn laughed. “And I object to that characterization. I feel more like a Chaos Magnet.”
“I guess that’s a more accurate description, but it doesn’t have the same ring to it,” Clint said.
In Advanced Elemental Science Mr. Stanton lectured them about the multiple uses for their breath weapons and how they might be applied in different areas. “Now break into groups and discuss ways you think you might use your elements in a field of study. Be as creative as you want. Sometimes thinking outside the box spurs a new vocation.”
Bryn moved her desk toward Clint and Ivy’s. Jaxon didn’t move any closer. He just tapped his pencil on his notebook.
“Are you going to join us?” Bryn asked.
“I see no need. The only use I have for my breath weapon as a member of the Directorate is blasting an enemy.”
“Okay.” Maybe Jaxon wasn’t capable of thinking outside the box. His loss. Not that she felt like arguing with him. She scooted closer to her friends. “Let’s see. What can I do with my fire? I doubt there are many jobs where they’d want me to incinerate things.”
“As Artists we can use our lightning to create sculptures or other pieces of art,” Ivy replied. “As a Medic, they’ll probably discourage you from frying your patients.”
“Yeah…that would be counterintuitive, unless you were cauterizing a wound,” Clint said. “I know. You could open a barbecue restaurant featuring flame-broiled burgers with spit-snow snow cones for dessert.”
Bryn laughed. When they’d been trapped under the library in a dusty old room, Bryn had exhaled a snowball into her hand because she was so thirsty. Neither of her friends had been interested in sampling her “spit-snow” as Clint had called it.
“I’m not sure how happy people would be to eat flavored spit-snow,” Bryn said.
“Well, you wouldn’t advertise it like that,” Clint said.
Jaxon gave them a disgusted look.
“Lighten up,” Bryn said. “We’re having fun. You should try it some time.”
“You’re disrespecting our breath weapon,” Jaxon said.
Bryn rolled her eyes. “No. I’m not. It’s ice. I could build an igloo if I wanted to, or create an ice sculpture. It’s not disrespectful. It’s a fact.”
“It’s plebeian,” Jaxon said.
“Did you swallow a thesaurus this morning?” Bryn asked. “Because no one talks like that and FYI, if they do, other people find them obnoxious.”
“Only if those other people are uneducated peasants,” Jaxon shot back.
“I’ve had just as much schooling as you,” Bryn said. “And since you’re being supremely obnoxious this morning, I’ll point out that the last time I checked, my grandfather has more money in his bank account than your father does in his.”
Jaxon went very still and then it was like he changed into another, far angrier, person. His eyes went flat and hard. The corners of his mouth turned down. He leaned in and spoke in a razor-sharp voice. “Your grandparents’ wealth and the substantial bribe they offered my father, which they disguised as a business proposal, are the only reason we’re stuck in this absurd marriage contract, because on your own, you have no worth.”
Bryn sucked in a breath. It felt like he’d smacked her…and he’d done it on purpose. He’d meant to wound her, and she hadn’t thought he was that person anymore. She knew he was hurting but there was only so much shit she was willing to put up with. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear. If you ever say anything that rude again, I will blast your snotty ass across the room.”
“Class dismissed,” Mr. Stanton called out in a voice that seemed louder than normal. And that’s when Bryn noticed all conversation around them had died down and everyone was watching them like they might come to blows at any moment.
“We’ll continue this conversation later,” Jaxon said. “In private.”
“No. We won’t,” Bryn said. “I’m done playing the polite game, so stay the hell away from me.” She stood and stalked out into the hall. She could taste smoke in the back of her throat as she battled the fire in her gut. What in the hell was Jaxon’s problem? Why was he reverting to his evil asshat ways?
Clint and Ivy caught up to her. “That was interesting,” Ivy said.
“I want to fry him,” Bryn said. “Literally. I want to blast him until he’s a charcoal briquette.”
“Totally understandable,” Clint said.
“Yeah…but I don’t understand how your conversation went from teasing to a death match in sixty seconds flat,” Ivy said.
“Me, either.” And the truth, which she was trying to ignore, was that her feelings were hurt. She’d thought they were friends…allies. And over the summer they’d bantered back and forth. They’d even shared private jokes. Where had that Jaxon gone and who was this elitist douchebag left in his place?
The conversation she’d had with her parents replayed in her head. Maybe there was someone else she could be paired with. Not that her grandparents would ever agree to that. Especially after all the trouble her grandfather had gone through putting together a business deal to entice Ferrin into accepting the marriage contract. God. That was a depressing thought. It’s not that there was anything wrong with her. She just wasn’t pure Blue, which is what Ferrin wanted.