Bridges Burned (Going Down in Flames #2)(55)

…

After Valmont dropped her off, she signed in at the back gate and headed to her dorm, intent on finding Clint and Ivy. They were waiting for her in the first-floor lounge. Ivy zoomed across the room to hug her.

“From now on, we’re all going places together.” Ivy’s voice shook.

Bryn hugged her friend back. “I was inside at Fonzoli’s. I’m okay.” She stepped back from Ivy. “Where were you guys?”

Ivy blushed. “We were studying.”

Right. “Did anyone get hurt?”

“You didn’t hear?” Clint asked.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up. “Hear what?”

“The hail came on so fast…students who were flying got beaten up pretty bad. Garrett…the hailstones…” Clint cleared his throat and looked away. “He’s lost the use of his right wing.”

“No.” Bryn didn’t feel her legs give out, but the next thing she knew, she was sitting on the floor. This could not be happening. “In Dragon’s Bluff, it wasn’t so bad. Windows were smashed, but everyone found shelter.”

“Everyone to your rooms, please.” A guard bellowed from the front door. Dark circles ringed his eyes, like he was recovering from a broken nose. “If any of your friends are missing let the staff or one of us know.”

Bryn rushed over to him. “Can I help the medics?”

Pain shone from the man’s eyes. “It is my understanding that those who are still injured are beyond help.”

Tears flooded her eyes. What would happen to Garrett and anyone else who was permanently injured? Before she could ask, the guard turned and left.

Bryn, Ivy, and Clint all stayed in her room together that night. The next morning, classes were canceled and the dining hall was closed. Students were to stay in their dorms and eat at the first-floor cafés.

An air of disbelief and misery seemed to float through the first-floor lounge where Bryn, Clint, and Ivy sat picking at their breakfast of submarine sandwiches.

“Okay. In the big scheme of things, I know this is petty, but I miss eggs and bacon.” Clint picked the onions off his sandwich.

“Thank God they have coffee.” Bryn sipped her second cup. She could eat anything for breakfast as long as caffeine was part of the deal.

“We’ve had wind, ice, and earthquakes. Does that mean fire or lightning is next?” Ivy asked.

Fire was self-explanatory. “What form will lightning take? A giant storm, or bolts of electricity zapping everything?”

“If you were still privileged enough to be enrolled in history class, you’d know that Black dragons used storms to cover their attacks. It’s a two-for-one whammy. Drench everything with water and then light it up.”

“So it’s electrocution or fire. Great.” Bryn finished off her bag of chips. None of this made sense. “Have the Clans ever worked together before to attack the Directorate?”

“That’s the weird thing,” Clint said, “or one of the weirdest of all the weird things going on right now. The Clans have always played their separate roles.”

“Not true,” Ivy said. “The Clans fought among themselves and against each other when they were trying to keep territories, before the Accords were drawn up. Each Clan settled in a specific territory and sent a representative to marry into another Clan.”

“This sounds vaguely familiar.” Bryn rolled her eyes. She’d been kicked out of history class over this topic. The teacher had claimed that crossbreeding couldn’t produce a functional shape-shifting dragon, even though Bryn had been sitting right in front of her. Wait a minute. She scooted closer to her friends so she wouldn’t be overheard. “I heard a folk tale that those dragons who married into other Clans had children with unusual powers and that one of them, Wraith Nightshade, tried to take over everything and make himself king. In the end, he was killed, and that’s when the Directorate was formed to make sure nothing like that happened again.”

“And if that’s true, if any of those hybrid kids survived and married, they’d produce more hybrids.” Clint glanced around. “We probably shouldn’t be talking about this out here.”

“Okay, no more hybrid talk.” Bryn leaned back in her seat. “Why are these attacks happening? Why are they hurting students? We have no power. If someone is pissed off at the people in control, why aren’t they going after them?”

Ivy shoved her sandwich away. “My best guess is they want to scare our parents, so they’ll demand the Directorate do something. And if the Directorate fails, our parents, or some of them at least, will rebel.”

Doubtful. Most of the dragons seemed to bow down to the Directorate pretty readily. Even Zavien, who was supposed to be the leader of the student Revisionists, was just an errand boy who delivered petitions to the Directorate. And that’s when it hit her. She hadn’t thought to ask about Zavien since she’d gotten back. Was that bad or good?

“What do you think the Directorate’s next move will be?” Bryn asked.

“I imagine they’ll find a way for us to go back to classes tomorrow,” Clint said, “but I doubt we’ll be able to go to Dragon’s Bluff for a while, or go flying.”

“I wonder if they’ll still let us go home for Christmas next week,” Ivy said. “I mean, they have to, right?”