Page 132 of Wings of Destruction

There isn’t much time.

Morgan will slip those ropes if given half the chance.

“Headmistress?” I close the door behind me.

Harbi is nowhere around. I bypass the desk and head for the wall of weapons and books jumbled together like a mad scientist’s den. There’s no rhyme or reason to the way they’re scattered.

My gut tells me Harbi knows exactly where everything is and despite the chaos, would be able to pluck out a book or a blade at will depending on the situation.

A slight scuffling sound adds to the harsh cadence of my breath. Harbi? Or Morgan, struggling to get free.

She put up quite a fight. Not everyone has her kind of fire and passion. It takes a certain combination of circumstances and personal grit to ignite something that fierce. Why hasn’t she been claimed by a mount yet?

Was her fire too much for the unicorns? What did they see when they looked at her?

Because I know what I’ve seen. If my mother had fought against my father the same way⁠—

My stomach flips and my muscles tense. No, there was nothing she could have done to make it out of that situation alive. Not against the General.

“Headmistress Harbi!” I raise my voice. “I need to talk to you.”

A flurry of movement comes from the balcony before she enters the office, staff first.

“I hear you yelling, Mr. Ryson, there’s no need to repeat yourself.” Her narrow gaze takes me in. “Is this some kind of emergency?”

Her tone lets me know it isn’t okay to barge into her office without an appointment.

“This is an emergency.” I straighten, hands sliding behind my back. “I’m sure you’re already aware of the scuffle in the dining hall.”

Harbi heads to the edge of the great desk and settles on the corner, perched delicately. Her turquoise skirts drape over her legs with her staff clenched in one hand. Her expression gives her away.

“Mrs. Milkin has brought it to my attention. It seems one of her maids has never quite gotten the hang of life in the cellars and is now slated to head to the mines. By the end of the week, if memory serves. The girl is nothing but a problem, if Milkin is to be believed.”

Her memory always serves. Nothing goes on in this place that Harbi isn’t aware of and she might let situations play out to their natural conclusion but that doesn’t make her ignorant.

The mines, though… I frown. “Isn’t that a little extreme? I’m not sure the punishment fits the crime, in this case.”

“If one person is unhappy with their place, it has the potential to set off a chain reaction. She isn’t capable of doing her job and so she must be replaced.” Harbi’s even tone grates.

Morgan isn’t just another person, though. How do I make the headmistress see it?

“She’s more than a maid.” I have to play this right or she’ll read more into my interest. “She got into an altercation with Evie in the dining hall and I had the opportunity to see her skills firsthand. She’s a fighter.”

Harbi’s gaze drops to my split lip. I stand firm against the scrutiny but the glint of disappointment in her gaze is one I recognize. My father’s go to, sadly. I’ve seen it enough times in my life that it’s like being greeted by an old friend.

“I stepped in before the maid beat Evie to a pulp but⁠—”

“Miss Fortescue is in the infirmary, I gather?” Harbi interrupts.

The corners of my lips curl up for a second. “I’m assuming. I brought the maid to you rather than oversee it myself. Her name is Morgan.”

For a moment, the idea of using Morgan for my resistance makes me dizzy. Like I need a fresh reminder of the indomitable wall of skill I’m up against. I push the nerves and uncertainty away before they grow.

“I think she needs to be trained,” I finish. “She has too much untapped potential to be wasted in the mines.”

“Trained?” Harbi adjusts one leg over the other. “She is a liability. You’ve always struggled with letting your heart get in the way of your logic, Kieran.”

At least I have a heart.