Chapter Sixteen
Bryn had strange dreams about her book suddenly morphing to the size of a car. She lost her place and turning the pages was like flipping a giant blanket. The pages were heavy and awkward, and the letters were so big the text was hard to read. She ended up flipping the pages and then climbing a ladder to peer down at them but couldn’t find the right perspective. She woke up and checked to see that the book on her nightstand was still the normal size. What a bizarre stress dream. Was her brain trying to tell her that she needed to think about how she was viewing her life?
Who knew?
At breakfast, Clint and Ivy weren’t speaking to each other. And that wasn’t normal. Neither of them looked angry. They looked sort of sad or tired.
“What’s going on with you two?”
Ivy yawned. “I don’t know. We’re both wiped out today. And it’s not like we did anything strenuous yesterday. It’s weird.”
Clint reached up and rubbed his eyes. “I feel like I’m in a fog.”
That wasn’t good. “When did this start?”
“We both woke up tired this morning,” Ivy said, “but it’s not like we stayed up any later than usual last night.”
“Did you do anything different yesterday?”
“No,” Ivy said. “I mean we went for a walk and bumped into Henna and her son, but I didn’t try to grow anything.”
“What did you do?” Bryn didn’t like where this was going.
“They showed us a fall flower garden full of mums they’re working on,” Clint said. “Ivy wanted to try and make a plant grow, but I talked her out of it.”
How could they not be putting two and two together? “It has to be Henna,” Bryn said. “She was there both times something happened to you.”
“No,” Ivy said. “She’s too nice, and didn’t you say Medic Williams checked her out?”
“Can you give me another rational explanation?” Bryn asked.
Clint and Ivy didn’t respond.
“Maybe as a chaos magnet I’m jumping the gun, but wouldn’t it be better to speak to Medic Williams just in case?”
“What would we tell her?” Ivy asked. “I’m pretty sure she already thinks I’m an idiot.”
“Now you’re being paranoid. If you’re embarrassed to speak to a Medic, why don’t you talk to Coach Anderson in Basic Movement?”
“That might work,” Clint said. “Because I’m not up to jousting or doing anything else that takes effort today.”
In Quintessential Medicine Janelle seemed unusually quiet. “What’s wrong?” Bryn asked.
“I went to bed at a normal time last night, but I feel like I need a barrel of coffee or a nap.
“That’s weird.” She told Janelle about Clint and Ivy.
“That is strange,” Janelle said.
“Class,” Medic Williams said, “today we have more volunteers asking to be healed. Some of these may be trickier. Don’t hesitate to ask for help.”
This should be interesting. The classroom door opened and a college-aged guy with auburn hair and the build of a Red came in with an ace bandage wrapped around his right leg from his knee to his ankle. He limped over to Bryn and Janelle’s station.
“Hello,” he said. “I’m George.”
They exchanged introductions. “What did you do?” Bryn asked.
“I took a spill on my motorcycle yesterday. The medics healed the bones and muscles, but I’ve got a pretty good case of road rash. They said if I let you guys heal the surface scrapes I’d get extra credit. They already fixed the part that hurt so it didn’t seem like a big deal.”
“Okay. Janelle, do you want to start?” She didn’t want to seem bossy.
“No. You have more experience, you should go first.”
“Sure. George, can you unwrap your leg so we can see what we’re working with?” Bryn asked.
He removed the bandage and Bryn worked at not cringing. It looked like someone had taken a cheese grater to his leg. “You’re seriously claiming that doesn’t hurt?” Bryn asked.
“They gave me a pain reliever. Otherwise, I’d probably be uncomfortable.”
That was an understatement. “Okay. I’ll start by channeling Quintessence into your leg. If anything feels strange, let me know.”
He nodded. Bryn focused on channeling her Quintessence out of her fingertips like healing lasers. The mottled, scabbed up skin turned a healthy color and changed back to a normal, flat surface. She worked on his knee and halfway down his shin before he laughed.
“What?” Bryn asked.
“I had freckles. Can you add those back?”
Bryn blinked and then looked at his other leg. Sure enough, the leg she worked on had pale unblemished, un-freckled skin where the other one had random freckles. “This is a problem I never thought of. Let me get some expert advice.” She raised her hand and Medic Williams came over to join them.
Bryn explained the issue and the woman laughed. “This is one of those things you don’t think of until it comes up.” She touched George’s shoulder. “I can restore your freckles after Bryn and Janelle do their work. It’s a little too complex for them to handle at this point.”
“Who knew freckles were complicated?” Janelle asked.
“Why don’t you take over,” said Bryn.
Janelle worked steadily, healing a little slower than Bryn had but her work looked good. Thank goodness. Bryn didn’t want to have to point out errors because then she’d be the most annoying classmate ever.
By Basic Movement, Bryn hoped that Clint and Ivy would feel better, but they were still foggy. She approached Coach Anderson with them, but they had to wait to talk to her because another student was already complaining to her about not feeling right.
“You’re the third student today who’s told me they’re not feeling well,” Coach Anderson said. “I need to get to the bottom of this.” She took out her whistle and blew it. Activity all over the gym came to a halt. “Anyone who feels abnormally tired today, come over here. I need a head count.”
Bryn backed up as Ivy and Clint joined the group of at least a dozen students surrounding Coach Anderson.
Jaxon came over and stood next to Bryn. “What’s going on?”
She explained what Clint and Ivy had told her.
“Maybe Henna is a dragon-pire,” he said.
“I know dragons don’t typically become ill like humans do,” Bryn said. “But is there a dragon flu that sometimes goes around—like in the human world?”
“Not that I’m aware,” Jaxon said. “This reeks of foul play.”
…
Word went out late Thursday evening that Friday classes would be canceled. All students were asked to stay in their dorms while the Medics investigated the strange energy-draining malaise that seemed to be going around campus.
Bryn wandered down to the Blue dorm restaurant in the lobby for breakfast Friday morning wearing yoga pants and a sweatshirt because if she wasn’t leaving the dorm she didn’t see any reason to follow the dress code. Unfortunately, the rest of the Blue students didn’t think like her. Every person she passed, who looked at her like she was a homeless bum, was wearing their dress code-mandated skirts, blouses, and yes, even the archaic panty hose. Not the males, of course. They were in their shirts, dress pants, and ties. Whatever. She was just coming downstairs for carryout. Then she’d hide in her room for the rest of the day and not have to suffer Blue judgment for daring to wear comfortable clothing.
The waiter grinned at her as he handed her two large cups of coffee and a dozen bagels with different flavors of cream cheese.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re so normal. Sometimes I forget what that’s like working here.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
On the trip back up the stairs she ran into Jaxon. Okay. She didn’t literally run into him, but she did cause him to stop and give her the once-over on the stairs. “What?” she said. “It’s not like I’m running around in my pajamas.”
“You mean those aren’t your pajamas?” he said. “Because I’ve seen you sleep in something like that before.”
Okay. Technically she did sleep in these same sort of clothes, but she hadn’t slept in this outfit. “I took a shower and put on clean, comfortable clothes. So sue me.” She continued her climb up the stairs to her room.
Being judged by snotty Blues all the time was freaking annoying. If they were still on lockdown tomorrow she’d go down to the restaurant with bedhead just to spite them.
After eating her fill of bagels, she called to check in on Clint and Ivy. Clint answered Ivy’s phone, which didn’t surprise Bryn. Despite having separate dorm rooms, the two practically lived together.
“How are you guys doing today?” Bryn asked.
“Today we both feel mostly back to normal,” Clint said. “Medic Williams gave us a clean bill of health this morning. Last night, she didn’t know why we seemed weak.”
“Did she mention a cold going around or does she suspect dragon-pires?”
“She didn’t think the dragon-pire comment was amusing. She seemed stressed. I think they really are afraid some whacko Silver cult member is going around siphoning Quintessence from students.”
“I still don’t understand how anyone could energy-suck someone without that person noticing,” Bryn said.
“Maybe they’re like mosquitoes. They take a small amount of Quintessence and no one notices until it adds up over awhile. Either that or they lull unsuspecting victims into sleep mode, take what they want, and then wake the victims back up.”
“This whole thing is creepy,” Bryn said. “Were there any common factors between the students who showed symptoms?”
“The only thing they knew last night was that none of the ill students were Blue. I’m not sure what that means.”
The information sent Bryn’s brain spinning. “I can guess,” she said, “Blues aren’t touchy-feely…like they don’t do casual hugs or pats on the back like the rest of us do.”
“So having a stick crammed up your ass could keep you from being the victim of a dragon-pire?” Clint said.
Bryn laughed. “That’s one way to put it.”
After hanging up with Clint, Bryn did some homework and then read her book for a while. The guy in the story had managed to evict the demon from his body, but his personality changed as a result of what he’d gone through.
Understandable. She’d been through her fair share of weird crap and it had changed her view of the world. Nothing was as black and white as it had seemed before. She no longer thought the Directorate was evil, though she did think that they were a little too sure of their own importance and would benefit from sharing rule with a wider variety of dragons. Even Ferrin, as despicable as he could be, didn’t seem like an evil monster. An arrogant asshat…yes. She’d seen him holding Asher and even though the dominant look on his face had been pride, there was some love mixed in there, too…at least she’d like to think there was.
A knock on her door pulled her out of her thoughts.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“Who is the only Blue likely to stop by your room?” Jaxon asked through the door.
“Good point.” Bryn opened the door. Jaxon still wore the same shirt he’d had on earlier, but he’d lost the tie and changed from dress pants to jeans. “I see even you opted for comfier clothes.”
“I did,” he said. “If you would put on something resembling appropriate attire to wear in public we could go to the restaurant downstairs for lunch.”
“It’s only eleven.”
“I’m bored and since when are you not hungry?” he asked.
“Another good point.” She opened the door wider so he could come in. “Give me a minute.” She headed into her room and changed into a pair of dark jeans and a black cashmere sweater. He couldn’t argue that cashmere wasn’t socially acceptable.
When she came out, he nodded. “Much better. I’m surprised your grandmother hasn’t burned all your yoga pants.”
“There is nothing wrong with yoga pants.”
“If the person wearing them is actually doing yoga, then there is nothing wrong with them. They aren’t meant to be a wardrobe staple for people who are too lazy to put on real clothes.”
“You’re a guy,” Bryn said, “so you don’t understand.”
“You can enlighten me after we’re seated for lunch.” He opened the door. “Let’s go.”
As they walked down the stairs, Bryn nodded at the Blues they came across. They all nodded back. It was so bizarre that being pledged to marry Jaxon had taken her off the social pariah list…at least when it came to greeting people in passing.
They had to wait a few minutes for a table because half the students seemed to have descended on the restaurant at the same time.
Once they were seated, Jaxon said, “Why does me being male keep me from understanding yoga pants?”
“Real pants aren’t comfortable,” Bryn said.
“They’re pants,” Jaxon said. “How can they not be comfortable?”
“Girls go in at the waist and out at the hips and the pants don’t always follow the same line, which means the seam for the waistband can end up digging into your hip the entire day and that leaves an uncomfortable red mark which is why most women change into yoga pants as soon as they come home.”
“You wear skirts to class,” Jaxon said. “So your argument is invalid.”
“Have you ever tried wearing panty hose?” She was pretty sure she knew the answer to that question, but it was fun to see the expression of horror on his face.
“Of course not.”
“Well, they are ten times worse than pants—with elastic waistbands that never seem to hit in the right place.”
“So basically, you’re telling me that the clothes you wear in public every day are uncomfortable and you wait to go back to your room and change into yoga pants because they are comfortable.”
“Yes.”
“Maybe you should buy better clothes,” he said.
She rolled her eyes and picked up the menu. After they ordered, Jaxon started a new topic of conversation. “Have you heard anything about how the investigation is going?”
“No. Clint and Ivy asked about Silver Cult dragon-pires, and the Medics didn’t think it was funny.”
“I mentioned your theory to my father and he said that kind of unfounded wild speculation would only cause panic.”
“That’s me,” Bryn said. “A wild speculator.”
Jaxon snorted. “I believe it’s worth looking into because I can’t think of another explanation.”
“Here’s an interesting fact. Clint said that no Blues had been reported ill.”
“So you think a Blue might be behind this?”
“No. I mean, I hadn’t thought that until you suggested it. I was going more with the idea that you guys aren’t touchy-feely. Someone has to touch you to siphon energy. Blues don’t do casual touches like the other Clans.”
“See, being elitist is better for your health,” he said.
Bryn laughed.