Page 175 of Wings of Destruction

If my parents had known, would they have told me it was okay? Or would they have told me to keep doing what I’ve always done, which is to push through?

At least Astrid and I agree on one thing, if nothing else. It’s a better practice to trust no one. Or at least to keep a close watch on them.

My heartbeat throbs in my broken nose and I sniff, regretting it the moment agony splits through to the base of my skull. It’s probably not the best idea to go in front of the headmistress this way. But Astrid isn’t slowing down for a change of clothes.

Not like I have any.

My last possession is currently hanging around the bony neck of a woman who does not deserve it. I didn’t deserve it any better but it’s my legacy to try to live up to, not hers.

The necklace will wait.

Another flash of lightning streaks veins of glowing light against the sky and a roll of thunder follows on its heels.

Astrid clears her throat. Finally, I drag my attention from the window, and she jerks to indicate the opposite direction. Away from the night, away from the storm, and into something even more unknown.

“Hopefully Harbi isn’t going to immediately boot me out,” I mutter under my breath.

“You certainly did waste enough time.”

Hours, yeah, of going around in a circle. I wait for the familiar tingle in my fingers to herald the first visions of nerves but nothing happens. I’m worried, of course, I’d be less than human if the emotions weren’t there, and something still feels lighter now.

A decision has been made.

Something definitive and permanent, if I can manage to get Harbi back on board. Right now…

It’s a big if.

Another lightning strike lights up the glowing gold strands threading through the marble floor. My shadow wavers and so does Astrid’s when I fall into place beside her, walking with a combination of edginess and misplaced bleating fear that gets me nowhere.

It certainly doesn’t help me with my goals.

The fear and the edginess remain no matter how many calming breaths I drag into my spent body. Astrid moves with a fluid and unhurried grace. This is her place whether she wants to claim it or not.

Her warnings churn in my head.

Trust no one. Hone my anger and use it.

Burn the castle down from the inside.

Those are all lovely theories but if I’m not able to actually accomplish anything, then what’s it worth?

She stops in the middle of the long hall and in the distance, a door creaks on its hinges. She thrusts out a hand to halt me in my tracks.

“The hard part is over,” Astrid assures me.

Her voice is easy but the lines of strain across her brow remain in place.

“It’s one thing for me to try to convince you. It’s another thing for you to feel the surety inside of yourself.”

“The hard part is only just beginning, and we both know it,” I correct. “Try not to insult me.”

She snorts. “You make it too easy.”

“I’m sorry?”

She purses her lips and then shakes her head. “You might think this is all a game, and you’re right.” There’s a bite to her words. “We have to put on our masks and pretend. We have our truths, to push down deep and forget about them, until the time is right. It’s necessary to get us to the end. To get us where we need to be. I told you that you belong here, Morgan. So prove me right. Don’t let this be in vain.”

She searches my face for an answer to a question she hasn’t asked.