Chapter Seven
The next morning at breakfast, Bryn shared the joyous news about Jaxon joining them for dinner one day a week.
“So you have to eat dinner with him tonight?” Ivy said.
Bryn nodded.
“Everyone knows your marriage contract was approved, so why do you have to be seen digesting food together?” Clint asked.
“I don’t know…something about presenting a united front or showing everyone that our family alliance is strong or some weird Blue Clan crap like that.” Bryn sipped her coffee. “Did I mention that there’s going to be a Homecoming Gala this weekend? Posters will probably go up later today and it’s my job to mingle and be seen with Jaxon.”
“It’s almost funny,” Clint said.
“Almost,” Bryn said, “but not quite. The good news is there will be food. The bad news is, it’s dress code compliant.”
“But it’s the weekend,” Clint said.
“I had the exact same reaction,” Bryn said.
“How’s your Medic class going?” Ivy asked.
“Interesting. I met a Green named Janelle. She’s pretty cool. How’s history class, part two?”
“They haven’t found a replacement teacher yet, so we’re reading historical articles,” Clint said. “Mine was about a secret society of Silver dragons who possessed all the breath weapons. They took dragons as prisoners and siphoned their Quintessence.”
“That’s downright evil,” Bryn said.
“True,” Clint said. “It reads like a horror story. Hard to believe it was real.”
“Why would someone need to do that in the first place?” Bryn asked. “If you’re tired, you rest or eat…you don’t go all Quintessence Vampire on someone.”
“Some people just don’t play well with others,” Ivy said. “They want all the toys for themselves and they don’t care who they hurt.”
Bryn had a mental image of Ferrin hoarding toys and refusing to let anyone else play with him. “Sounds like someone I know.”
“Does his name rhyme with Darren?” Clint asked like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
“How’d you guess?” Bryn asked.
“I’m brilliant like that,” Clint said.
As the weekend approached, Bryn waited for word that her parents would be allowed to visit, or that she’d be allowed to visit them in Sanctuary. She received no such message.
At dinner Thursday night she griped to Clint, Ivy, and Jaxon, who sat at their table looking like he’d rather be eating behind a dumpster.
“I don’t understand,” Bryn said. “I thought the powers-that-be would have all that crap straightened out by now.”
“The Directorate has been convening day and night for months,” Jaxon said. “And they probably prioritize everyone’s safety above your concerns.”
Bryn glared at him. “I’m aware of that,” she added a silent asshat to her statement. “But a reliable source told me that my parents would be allowed to visit soon. And I won’t apologize for wanting to hug my mom and dad, who I thought were dead…so back off.”
Jaxon’s eyes narrowed. He leaned toward her so that their faces were inches apart. “But unlike Rhianna, they aren’t dead, so you will be able to see them again.” Frost shot from his lips as he spoke. “Stop complaining when you have no idea of the scope of issues the Directorate is dealing with.”
Flames crawled up the back of Bryn’s throat. She knew he was hurting but he’d crossed a line. She pushed the flames down but could still taste the smoke. “I know you’re still grieving, and I miss Rhianna, too, but that doesn’t give you the right to be a condescending asshat. We’re supposed to be a team, which means we support each other, not tear each other down.”
Instead of responding, he just stared at her for a moment and then he went back to eating his dinner. Was he admitting she was right? She couldn’t read the blank expression on his face. Clint and Ivy made small talk while they finished their dinner. Bryn finished her food before Jaxon. Now what? Did she have to wait for him? Maybe if she asked him, he’d feel better because he’d have an answer for something, which might soothe his ego.
“When we eat together are we required to exit the dining hall together?”
“Yes.” Jaxon glanced at her plate. “My appetite is gone. We can leave now if you want.”
Now he just seemed sad which made her feel guilty. Reaching over she laid her hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry.” His skin was surprisingly warm to the touch.
He seemed genuinely confused. “For what?”
“For the whirlwind of crap that our lives have become.”
“That’s a fairly accurate description.” He gave a tight smile. “From now on, I’ll try to remember that we’re on the same side.”
She exited the dining hall with Jaxon. They didn’t speak as they walked back to the Blue dorm, but the silence wasn’t awkward. He walked her to her dorm room and said goodnight. Clint and Ivy knocked on her terrace window fifteen minutes later.
She let them in and they went to sit in the living room.
“That was uncomfortable,” Clint said.
“At the end it was kind of sweet,” Ivy said. “Which was strange, in its own way.”
“I know.” Bryn rubbed her eyes. “Half the time I want to smack him, and the other half I want to comfort him but I’m not sure what to do.”
“Yeah…he doesn’t seem like the hugging type,” Ivy said.
“On to a less awkward and far more interesting topic,” Clint said. “I found more articles about Silver dragons. Supposedly, they were part of a cult and they took Quintessence from specific dragons in order to gain their breath weapons.”
Bryn sat forward. “Try saying that again in a way that makes sense.”
“The dragons sucked Quintessence from each Clan with the help of some ancient spells that gave them the ability to reproduce each Clan’s breath weapon. Think about it,” Clint said. “A dragon who can breathe fire, ice, wind, lightning, and sonic waves would be badass.”
“And slightly crazy,” Bryn said, “due to the whole vampire-type thing.”
“True. But it’s still intriguing,” Ivy said. “And the article hinted at the idea that possessing all the breath weapons would make them invincible…like no breath weapon could hurt them.”
“Wow,” Bryn said. “If that were true they could do whatever they wanted.”
“I think that was their plan. They wanted to be superior to all Clans, even the Blues, so the Silvers would then be the rightful rulers.”
“Wow. I can’t believe the Institute, much less the Directorate, lets students even read these articles.”
“It’s not like any Silvers are around today,” Ivy said. “The last cult member died more than a hundred years ago in a Directorate-sanctioned public execution.”
Bryn cringed. “That sounds medieval.”
“They weren’t nice dragons,” Clint said.
“I get that. Do these articles say which Clan these crazy dragons were from? And please don’t say they were hybrids. We’ve gotten enough of a bad rap lately.”
“No mention of the term hybrids, but it did say they were the result of some sort of rare combination of genes, so that could mean hybrid.”
“Great.” That’s all she needed.
“When you think about it, the driving force behind any cult is the need for power or control, so I’m guessing any clan could be susceptible. The Silvers claimed it was their duty to evolve into superior beings, like super dragons, so there would be peace among our kind.”
“But didn’t they kill the dragons they sucked Quintessence from?” Bryn asked.
“There is that minor detail,” Clint said. “Although some of them kept dragons around and fed off them routinely, like vampires feed off fang groupies.”
“Fang groupies?” Bryn asked. “Seriously? Is that a thing?”
Ivy laughed. “Depends on what paranormal television shows you watch. In some of them there are vampire groupies who allow vamps to feed off them for the sheer joy of being around the undead.”
“Can you say abusive relationship?” Bryn asked.
“I didn’t say it was a mentally healthy lifestyle choice,” Clint said. “And small public service announcement—vampires aren’t real. Though the comparison works. The Silver dragons had groupies who hung around and lived on their lavish estates in exchange for allowing the Silvers to feed.”
“Are you sure this isn’t some twisted up vampire story you’re reading?” Bryn asked. It sounded way too bizarre to be true.
“Who knows?” Clint said. “But there are a lot of historical articles about it, and it’s far more interesting than reading those Directorate Law journals.”
“It’s kind of a guilty pleasure,” Ivy said. “We should go to the library and see what Miss Enid knows about them. I bet she could point us in the direction of some great articles for our research papers.”
“A bonus of being in Quintessential Medicine is that we haven’t been assigned a research paper.”
“Yet,” Clint said. “Research papers seem to be a right of passage for senior year.”
“I hope that’s not true.”
…
When they told Miss Enid what they were interested in, she balked. “That might not be a wise topic choice.”
“Why not?” Clint asked.
Miss Enid glanced at Bryn. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you not to share this, but there have been recent reports of Silvers that you don’t know about. Around a dozen years ago it was rumored that someone had tried to bring the cult back to life. Students started coming down with a strange illness that left them exhausted for days at a time. It took the Medics a while to realize that someone was siphoning Quintessence from them.”
“Umm…how could you not notice that?” Bryn asked. “Because I can feel it when I use too much of my Quintessence when I’m trying to heal someone. It literally feels like your life force is bleeding out.”
“That sounds lovely,” Ivy said.
“The cult members were very adept at engaging unsuspecting victims in conversation. They’d brush their hand across the chosen dragon’s forearm a few times. Eventually, they’d lull the victim into sleep. Then they’d siphon what they wanted, perform some sort of spell on the victim to change their memories of where they’d been, and walk away to prey on someone else.”
“That is all sorts of wrong,” Bryn said.
“It is, which is why anyone found guilty of this crime had their wings amputated.”
Bryn’s stomach rolled. “That thought literally makes me want to vomit.”
“Right there with you.” Ivy clutched at her midsection.
“The Directorate had to take a harsh stand against the felons who did this because apparently, Silvers can be oddly charismatic. They were adept at luring people to their cause. If the punishment wasn’t extreme, more dragons might fall prey to the cult’s radical ideas.”
“What was their big sell?” Clint asked. “Come join us and suck the life from your classmates?”
“The Silvers thought of themselves as the next step in evolution for dragons…a superior race.”
“The Hitler of dragons,” Bryn said. “I guess humans don’t have the market cornered on racist egomaniacal hate-spewing dictators.”
“Unfortunately,” Miss Enid said, “they do not.”
Maybe that was another reason the Directorate screened bloodlines with such care. She couldn’t ask Miss Enid about that because her marriage contract had been denied due to something they’d found when they combined her blood with Mr. Stanton’s. And the Directorate, being the all-powerful council that they were, didn’t give an explanation why. But there was something else Bryn could ask.
“Could I talk to you in private for a moment?” Bryn asked Miss Enid.
“Of course.” She scribbled something on a Post-it note and passed it to Clint. “This is where you’ll find more information on the Silvers. Make certain that anyone you speak to knows that you believe the group was a bunch of radical terrorists. If it sounds like you admire them in any way, someone will probably drag you away for questioning.”
“Understood,” Ivy said. She and Clint headed toward the back stairs.
“What did you want to speak with me about?” Miss Enid asked.
There was no way to bring this up without it being awkward. “I know that couples have been denied marriage due to the possible issues in their bloodlines, but I was wondering if one of those couples who never married…if they were past the age of having children, would they be allowed to marry if they still wanted to?”
Miss Enid opened her mouth and then closed it. “I…I have no idea. No one has ever even mentioned…I’m not sure…have you spoken to anyone else about this?”
“No. It’s just a question that popped into my head. Jaxon and I spoke of it, but he would never mention it to anyone else.”
Was Miss Enid angry or confused? It was hard to tell. “I’m sorry if this was rude. It’s just with all the talk of marriage and hybrids and—”
Miss Enid placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. No one who grew up in our culture would ever ask such a question. They wouldn’t even think it.”
Since Miss Enid wasn’t angry, Bryn asked the next logical question. “Is getting married something you’d be interested in?”
“I can’t even answer that right now, but you’ve given me something to mull over.”