Page 71 of Wings of Destruction

Rather than letting Headmistress Harbi end our meeting prematurely, Tristan kept us in that tiny parlor with its roaring fire for another twenty minutes.

He regaled us with his reports of my father’s “battles” like the death tallies shouldn’t mean anything. But they do. They mean everything.

Or maybe he just needs to pretend he holds a strategy superior to anyone else’s.

He certainly isn’t the kind of man who’d let Harbi dictate his movements. He bowed to her as long as it suited him and did so with thinly veiled condescension. When Tristan decided he’d given as much information as he cared to give, or when he got tired of hearing his voice, he nodded and flicked a hand to the door.

“Meeting adjourned.” He shot Harbi a narrowed gaze. “Unless there’s anything else you’d like to add?”

They lock eyes for a tense few seconds before I grab Tristan by the forearm. “Let’s go, cousin.”

He shrugs me off and steps out the door before anyone else. It’s hardly large enough for him and his ego.

Normally his posturing would grate under my skin. No matter how many times I tell myself to get used to it, to not let it bother me, somehow it always does. Tristan has the singular ability to annoy me more than any other living creature. Even my father. Maybe because like me, Tristan is young enough to have a choice. And he’s chosen poorly.

We were born into the family of one man’s unchecked ambition, but Tristan didn’t have to fall in line.

He wants to. He likes it.

The hydra leader was captured… the news swirls in my head.

One hand on the banister, I curve higher off the main floor, stumbling over the threshold to my room. Mental and emotional exhaustion turn my limbs to wet rags, wrung out by invisible hands.

The reports are awful and expected. I don’t need to be a part of the fighting to understand the tolls.

Our information didn’t work, I tell Mozi.

Meaning?

As you already heard. My voice is dry in my head. He found the hydra leader.

Feeding Ryson false information was a gamble anyway. We knew he’d explore every possible lead. Not to mention he has scouts of his own.

Mozi isn’t as bothered by the news as I am.

My fingers shake on the door handle. His scouts are more thorough than we bargained for.

That’s why they are still alive to deliver the news.

The dragon makes a great point. Steeling myself, I step inside my bedroom and hastily shut the door behind us.

The space is nicer, larger, than any of the others. This hall specifically boasts nicer accommodations than the rest of the students at DragonSpear enjoy because status buys many things. A mattress sized for a king and a desk still leave plenty of maneuvering room. The private bathroom is the best of the perks.

Everything is done in masculine earth tones with black and gold accents. The stone floor is cut through with wide swaths of red and blue rugs absorbing the stomp of footsteps.

Stumbling into the bathroom, I flick the faucet on, splashing frigid water against my overheated skin. I’m surprised it doesn’t steam.

You did what you could, Mozi chides. It would look suspicious if you didn’t attend your first year at the academy.

I understand the necessity of putting on a show but how can I forget about the people I can’t protect? The problems I can’t solve and need to? I don’t have the power to do anything about any of it.

I dropped pertinent pieces of false information, a trail leading nowhere, for my father to follow. If he bit, it made no difference. He eventually found the right trail and the golden egg at the end. The loss of the hydra leader is a massive blow to my own budding resistance.

If a man of his years and reputation falls to Ryson, then what hope do I have?

The water runs clear and cold and I shove my head underneath the stream, eyes closed, letting the chill infuse my bones. Frost in the marrow is better than caring when no one else does.

Maybe Headmistress Harbi—a massive maybe—but she’s not in a position to stand against Roman. No one is.