Emory raises her eyes to meet mine before moving to Yaretta and taking in the entire situation.
I squeeze the edges of my books, knuckles turning white, and turn away. The hall is crammed as we all try to get to the same place, urgency making everyone erratic and clumsy.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Emory asks, coming up beside me, her violet eyes narrowed in concern.
I shake my head and shrug my shoulders. “I know just about as much as everyone else, I suppose. Which is pretty much nothing.”
“They’ve ordered everyone to attend an assembly, I know that much. There’s talk of another attack having taken place,” she whispers, looking around to be sure we’re not heard. “Apparently, someone heard a few professors discussing it, and it’s spreading like wildfire among the student body.”
Another attack. They’re getting bolder.
“Well, seems you know more than I do,” I reply. Not unfriendly, but not encouraging further discussion either.
“Poking your nose where it doesn’t belong again, Voss?” A heavy arm is thrown over my shoulders, dragging me to his side. Makon’s gaze is targeted on Emory like she’s the enemy.
She rolls her eyes but continues talking to me like he isn’t there. “That’s all the information I was able to gather. I’ll see you in there.”
Before I can get a word out, Makon cuts in. “Why don’t you worry about playing with your little magic abilities? You know, the things you Veils are so good at,” he says, leaning in close, voice dropping, and eyes locked in on his prey. “Leave the battles and fighting to the ones more suited for it.”
“The only thing you’re suited for is handling your massive ego.”
“It’s not the only thing massive about me,” he taunts.
I push his arm off my shoulders at the mental image I could have done without. “We’d better hurry, or they’re going to start without us.”
Grabbing Makon’s wrist, I drag him behind me before there’s bloodshed. If the look on Emory’s face is anything to go by, I should be more worried for Makon than her.
The assembly hall is packed to the brim, voices loud with questions and accusations flying. A professor stands at the front, actively trying to get everyone to shut up.
Unsuccessfully.
The next moment, Kingston, helmet in hand, steps up beside the professor, effectively ceasing all chatter. His very presence commands absolute respect and obedience. The professor, worry lines creasing the corners of his eyes, clasps his hands behind his back before quickly acknowledging the soldier by his side and addressing us.
“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors being thrown around about another attack. However, for once, the rumors are rooted in fact. An attack was carried out on Ashbarrow, and the casualties are heavy.” A gasp is heard somewhere in the audience. “The majority of the small town wasn’t spared. It happened quickly and in the dead of the night before our armies could respond.”
There’s a good chance, based on the gasp just heard, that some of us have family in that town. We were basically just told they were slaughtered.
The exhausted-looking professor takes a moment before continuing, “There’s more. They didn’t stop with the massacre but proceeded to raid Harkin House. A few residents were taken. At this time, none have been recovered.”
I look around the room to gauge the reactions of the other cadets.
What purpose would wraiths have for taking the mentally unstable? Why not just consume them on the spot?
“We’re all thinking the same thing,” Makon says out of the corner of his mouth. His brows are drawn tight, and his hand rests on the lethal dagger at his waist.
I look away and bring my attention back to the front, toward Kingston. He stands stoically next to the professor. His dark eyes already aimed at me.
“I’d like to say that’s all we have to worry about at the moment, but alas, there’s one more thing. A dark object has been taken from the academy’s catacombs… along with a professor.” Murmurs and hushed whispers break out among the students. Noctryns cast accusing glances toward the Veils, and they in return offer glances of suspicion.
Kingston widens his stance, and all chatter ceases.
The professor takes a deep breath. “Professor Hunstal, a light magic instructor and expert in languages, was last seen this afternoon. Her current whereabouts are unknown, but her lodgings were found in disarray.” He pauses and brings his shoulders back, resolve etched into the creases of his face. “A select few Noctryns will begin interrogations right away. The only individuals able to get through these walls unnoticed are students and professors. Someone here knows something. We will not rest until both are recovered.” He adjusts his robes and briskly heads for the exit, not pausing to take any of the questions plastered to so many of our faces.
I squish my books to my chest and meet Kingston’s stare unflinchingly.
Chapter eighteen
One by one, we’re pulled from our classes.
