I stared at him. “You think Viktor Drakharrow has a dragon?”

“I didn’t say that, did I? But I do know he has a rider. That’s half of a very powerful, very deadly equation. You’re playing with fire, Miss Pendragon. And I think you’re likely to get burned. If you don’t wind up burning up this entire school and all of us with you.”

He slammed a stack of books down on the desk. “That’s what I aim to prevent.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, still feeling stunned.

“After you’ve spent the first half of the lunch hour cleaning up the storage room, you can spend the second half reading up on the history of dragons. At the end of this term, you’ll be turning in a fifty-page essay on the subject.” He smirked. “Oh, and I expect the subject of healing dragons and their riders to comprise a significant portion.”

“You can’t do this,” I protested. “I need to eat before afternoon classes.”

“I can do whatever I want, Miss Pendragon,” he growled back. “If you have any complaints, take them up with Blake Drakharrow. Either he’s your ally or your enemy. I suppose we’ll see which it is. Regardless, I’m well within my rights as your professor to keep you here every lunch hour for the entire rest of the school year if I choose to. So you’d best buckle up.”

I clenched my jaw but said nothing.

He started striding towards the door.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

Professor Rodriguez paused, then looked back and smiled. “I’m going to eat lunch. And when I get back at one o’clock, you’d better have made significant progress on that storage room and on that stack of books.”

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CHAPTER 7 - MEDRA

I was sticky and sweaty by the time one o’clock rolled around. I didn’t want to risk leaving the Restoration classroom too early and invoking Rodriguez’s wrath but I also didn’t plan on being late for my first Advanced Weaponry class.

I’d lost not only my chance to eat lunch but also a chance to track down Regan Pansera and put a few questions to her. Despite her claims to want me to have the best first day possible, it was turning out to be a disaster.

I’d been late for my first class, made a spectacle of myself in my second, and now had at least one teacher as an enemy.

Rodriguez’s suspicion of Viktor Drakharrow and his apparent dislike for Blake seemed a little strange for Sangratha and for a professor. I would have thought he’d be currying the Drakharrows’ favor just like everyone else at the school. But instead, Rodriguez seemed to have almost as many qualms about highbloods as I did.

I supposed there was a fine line between being critical of parts of highblood history–like the sacrifice of healers for a pointless cause–and actual treason. Still, considering how intense Viktor Drakharrow had seemed, I wouldn’t have thought Rodriguez would want to be so public about airing his grievances.

I’d gotten so involved in cleaning up the storage room–the place really was a mess, with dust covering everything, and it was strangely satisfying to get things orderly–that I’d almost forgotten about my second task. By the time I’d snatched up one of the books in the stack, it was a quarter-to-one and I was nearly out of time.

I flipped open the first few pages and scanned as much as I could.

When five minutes had passed, I bailed. Deciding I could get more reading done later, I scooped up the stack of books and took them with me.

As I stepped out of the Restoration classroom, I realized I had absolutely no idea where to go next.

I stood there, heart sinking and panic setting in, as a rush of students began to flow through the hall around me.

“Medra!”

I looked down the hall and saw a hand frantically waving. Florence.

“Come with me,” she said breathlessly, running up and grabbing my arm with one hand while shoving a muffin towards me with her other. “You have just enough time to get down to the training courtyard.”

I stuffed the muffin in my mouth–some sort of nut and berry combination, not my favorite but better than nothing–as she pulled me along the corridors.

By the time we got down to the entrance to the courtyard, I was panting and so was Florence.

“Florence, you’re going to be late for your own class,” I moaned as I looked up at a clock on the wall.

“I have a prep period. I’m helping my mother get ready for the library session with the First Years.” She chewed her lip as if indecisive.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Medra, I think there must have been a mistake with your timetable.” The words came out in a rush. “Advanced Weaponry is a third or fourth year class. And it can get...dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

“It’s normally only for vampires,” Florence said. Her expression was truly worried. “It’ll be full of highbloods. I should have said something when I saw your timetable, but I’ve never heard of a mistake like that being made.”

“Maybe they put me in it because I’m a rider?” I said slowly.

“I don’t know,” Florence said. “But maybe you should...”

Just then the bells sounded.

A group of laughing students pushed past us. Visha Vaidya’s violet eyes honed in on me as she strode by. Trailing behind her were Quinn Riley and Coregon Phiri. Only the dark-skinned young man greeted me as he moved past us. Quinn simply ignored me.

Last but not least, a few steps behind for once, sauntered Blake Drakharrow.

He shot me an odd look but for once kept his mouth shut. I didn’t know whether to be grateful or not. Just this once, his input on my situation might have been useful.

But it was too late. I wasn’t about to beg him for help.

Florence and I watched Blake head towards a rack of weapons lined up on one side of the courtyard. He picked up a hefty-looking halberd and started going through practiced motions.

“Those weapons look brutal, Medra,” Florence said, chewing her lip. “At least in Basic Combat you’re learning hand-to-hand techniques. And the scouts use lighter weapons like daggers and bows. Not greatswords and halberds.”

You’re not exactly a novice when it comes to weapons, my dear. Are you going to let your friend in on your little secret?

I gasped and jumped backwards. The woman’s voice was back in my head.

Get the fuck out, I’m trying to think, I hissed furiously.

Florence was looking at me oddly.

“You know what, Florence,” I said slowly. “I’m going to go in. I think the highbloods might be in for a surprise. You might be, too. I’m not a total novice at this. I’ve had a little bit of training. Back home.” I decided to keep it vague.

Florence nodded. “If you’re sure.” She squeezed my arm. “I bet you’ll be great. I’ll see you in the library later.” She grabbed my armful of books before I could stop her. “I’ll put these in your room.”

I shot her a grateful look. “Right. The library. Thanks, Florence.”

I took a deep breath and stepped into the courtyard.

Blake Drakharrow had slung his vicious-looking halberd over his shoulder–rather a cocky thing to do with such a sharp weapon–and was standing addressing the class.

Oh, gods, I thought, suddenly panicked. Please tell me Blake isn’t the fucking instructor.

I walked up and stood at the back of the group of highbloods cautiously, trying to hide myself behind them.

“Professor Sankara is delayed so I’ll be supervising the class for now,” Blake said, his deep voice carrying across the courtyard. He looked around at the students sternly. “No bullshit. I mean it. It’s the first day. Just get started. Everyone knows what to do.”

We did?

Everyone around me was nodding. The group broke up. Some students already had equipped themselves with their weapons of choice. They started pairing up. Others stood alone, solo drilling.

I walked slowly over to the weapons rack and looked at the options.