Page 146 of Wings of Destruction

Faye stands staring at me with her face a mask of confusion when I steal a glance behind me. I swallow thickly.

“Please, Faye. No one else has bothered to help me. This was one of the students. Look. At the leathers. Straps for a dragon saddle.”

It’s clear none of the others here are going to do a blasted thing about this. They already brushed off the interruption and seem inclined to focus extra heavily on their work.

They don’t need to know about Kieran’s plan. And I doubt any of them care.

“A student?”

I blurted out the wrong thing. My gaze keeps traveling over to the rest of the workers, then to a block of knives kept sharp for slicing through meat and bread. My pulse fills my ears and fear coats heavily across my tongue.

I can’t waste more time convincing Faye to help me. I frown at the knife block.

I’m powerless here but the one thing I can control is my reaction. I force myself to take a steady breath.

“If you’re not going to help me then I’ll do it myself.”

I stalk up to the knife block and Faye steps in front of me to cut me off.

“You antagonized a student to the point where he put you in saddle leathers?” She leans in to ask.

My heart thrums a little faster and a bead of sweat makes a break for it along my spine. Did Faye see it? Does she see the frustration warring with fear?

“Why do you automatically think this is my fault?”

She throws me a mocking smile. “Because I watch people closer than they think. You have a way of annoying anyone who gets into your path.”

“I didn’t annoy this one.” And I fail to notice how she’d said he. Like she knows. “He’s a sadist. And it’s not time for me to fling myself into the pit yet so if you kindly get out of my way⁠—”

I step to the loft and Faye moves with me, catching my eyes.

Just when I’d started to believe that there are good people here. She struck me as one of the good ones and if I was being really honest with myself, I’d almost thought we might be friends down the road. If I somehow managed to work that miracle the way I’d been planning all day.

A miracle? I got the ticket to my damnation instead.

“I should take you to Milkin.” Faye looks around at the rest of the workers. Then she grabs my elbow and jerks hard enough for me to swallow over a yelp. “That’s what I should do.”

I struggle against her as she starts walking away from the knives. The coldness in her gaze tells me exactly how wrong I’ve been to think she’d do anything other than toe the line.

Faye parades me out of the kitchen, stopping at the counter on her way past and glancing at the workers. Her breath is warm against my neck. “When are you going to stop getting into trouble?”

“When I get out of these straps,” I breathe. “I promise.”

“Are you sure? Because I really can’t trust you. And maybe it’s better for you not to run around these schools loose.”

She pulls up short in the hall and I look into those luminous wide eyes, wondering if I’d ever misjudged someone so badly in my life. I don’t glare at her, though. I stop struggling.

Her lips part and something shifts in her eyes. For half a second, I wonder if she really is going to give me over to Milkin.

Then Faye turns me around to look at my back and pulls my wrist. My shoulders screech in protest at the sharp movement until the distinctive snick of a blade sounds across the leathers. I feel the friction of every slice while Faye keeps me in her grasp and cuts.

I force my limbs to go still.

“If you do anything to make me regret this, then we are going to have a serious reckoning,” she whispers.

My palms go slick with sweat. I plant my feet, barely feeling the chill of stone seeping up through the thin sole of the slipper fabric.

Faye carves through the leather until it gives and my hands fly apart.