Trial By Fire (Going Down in Flames)

by Chris Cannon

  Valmont cleared his throat. “We should go to class. Mr. Stanton might know what’s going on.”

  “You’re right.” She set the boxes of food by the door. “Let them know I stopped by.”

  Valmont placed his hand on her lower back as they walked down the hall. Once they’d exited the building, she waited for him to say something. He was uncharacteristically quiet.

  “Instead of stewing about it, why don’t you say whatever is on your mind before we go into class,” Bryn said as they walked across campus.

  “I don’t like how familiar he is with you.”

  Bryn sighed, reached over, and laced her fingers through his. “You don’t have to worry about me having feelings for him anymore.”

  “I know, but does he still have feelings for you?”

  That was an interesting question. “Even if he did, it doesn’t matter because I don’t have any for him.” She squeezed his hand, hoping to emphasize the point.

  “Good to know.”

  They entered the science building and made their way to Mr. Stanton’s classroom. A new seating chart decorated the board. Clint and Ivy’s names weren’t on it. Fear jolted through Bryn’s veins.

  “Don’t panic,” Valmont said. “They could have the day off classes.”

  That was the best-case scenario. She approached Mr. Stanton’s desk and waited for him to acknowledge her.

  After scribbling his name on the bottom of a few reports, he glanced up. “Yes?”

  “Do you have any information about Clint and Ivy?”

  He gave a slow nod and went back to signing his name on the paperwork. “They will return to classes after lunch.”

  What did that mean?

  “Please take your seat, Bryn. And if you want to help your friends, don’t ask any more questions.”

  What the hell? Mr. Stanton was one of the good guys, so why was he warning her away? He had to have a good reason. “Thank you, sir.”

  …

  By the time lunch rolled around, Bryn felt like she was about to crawl out of her skin with impatience. “Should we go to the dining hall for carryout and take it to Ivy’s room?”

  They crossed the threshold into the building and Valmont pointed at their usual table. “No, because they’re here.”

  Bryn started to run, but Valmont grabbed her arm. “Low profile, remember?”

  She settled for speed-walking, sliding into the seat next to Ivy and tackle hugging her friend. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?” Clint asked as he shoved half a dozen fries into his mouth.

  Bryn pulled back from Ivy and noticed the annoyed expression on her friend’s face. Ivy laughed, but it sounded forced. “What happened last night wasn’t your fault. We’re old enough to pay attention to the time.”

  “For Valentine’s Day, Clint, maybe you should buy Ivy a watch,” Valmont joked.

  Okay. If he could play along, she could, too. “We should get our food.”

  “I’ll go up with you,” Ivy said. “I forgot ketchup for my fries.”

  Okay. What could she say in the food line that she couldn’t say in front of Clint?

  Bryn grabbed a plate and filled it with chicken tenders and fries.

  Ivy followed along behind her. “I need to copy the notes I missed from Mr. Stanton’s class. Can I come by before dinner?”

  Since when did Ivy need to ask permission to come over? “Sure.”

  “Good.” Ivy glanced around. “Have you ever had one of those days where you felt like everyone was watching and waiting for you to do something stupid?”

  “Just most of my waking hours.”

  “Glad you understand.” Ivy didn’t make eye contact with Bryn as she squirted ketchup into a little paper cup that looked like a bucket for a mouse.

  For the rest of her afternoon classes, Bryn did her best to make casual small talk with her friends in order to keep up the charade that nothing was wrong. What had the Directorate done to make Ivy not want to share? Terrible ideas flitted through her head—from brainwashing to lobotomies. Once classes ended, she had a hard time not running to her room.

  Ivy showed up on Bryn’s terrace minutes after Bryn made it inside.

  Where was Clint?

  Once inside, Ivy said, “I think someone stole my boyfriend and replaced him with a pod.”

  “Okay.” Bryn pointed toward the living room. “This sounds like a conversation we should have sitting down.”

  Valmont closed and locked the window, and they reconvened on the couch in the living room.

  “I know this sounds crazy, but that’s not my Clint.”

  Bryn opened her mouth to speak, but Valmont beat her to it. “Why don’t you start at the beginning? Tell us what happened last night ”

  “We never made it out of the library. Someone was following us, so we acted like we were trying to find someplace to be alone. Clint pulled me down an aisle and kissed me. We didn’t even hear the guard sneak up on us. One minute we were kissing, and the next minute someone grabbed me and declared I was under arrest for breaking curfew. Clint told him we’d lost track of time. The guard didn’t care.”

  Ivy rubbed at the red marks on her wrists. “He handcuffed us with those plastic zip ties and marched us up to the top floor of the library where—surprise—some of the Directorate members keep offices.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Bryn said.

  “It gets better,” Ivy said. “Ferrin Westgate was behind door number one.”

  “Aw, crap.” Bryn did not like where this was going.

  “Yeah, not who we wanted to see. He lectured us about breaking Directorate law and told us we were getting off easy this time. No real jail. They’d just lock us in study cubicles overnight.”

  The guard separated us and shoved me into one of those tiny rooms. There wasn’t a light or a chair or anything. Just a concrete floor. I used an emissary to see. I tried knocking on the walls to see if Clint would knock back, but I never heard anything. This morning a different guard let us out and told us to go clean up and then head to lunch.”

  “And that’s when you noticed Clint was different?” Bryn asked.

  Ivy nodded. “He didn’t hug me. He didn’t even hold my hand. Didn’t ask how I was doing. Nothing. It was like he didn’t care about me. He kept talking about how irresponsible we’d been and how it wouldn’t happen again.”

  Valmont frowned. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound like Clint.”

  “He walked me back to my room and kissed me on the cheek like I was his freaking cousin.” Ivy created a small ball of lightning in her hand, which crackled and sent out forked tongues. “I have no idea what’s going on. I can’t shake this feeling I’m being watched. And I really want to zap someone.”

  Ivy let the ball of lightning flare up, doubling in size before she extinguished it. “So… thoughts?”

  “Besides, what the hell? No.” Bryn’s mind raced. “We need someone on the inside who can give us some information. Since Mr. Stanton already told me to stop asking questions, who does that leave?”

  “You could call your grandmother,” Valmont said. “She knows how the Directorate operates.”

  “True. And I don’t have a better idea. Ivy?”

  “Call her.”

  Bryn dialed and told her grandmother she was worried about her friend’s strange behavior.

  “I’m sure you’re worried about nothing,” her grandmother said. “Why don’t you call Jaxon and spend some time with him this evening. He always makes you feel so much better.”

  Had her grandmother turned into a pod, too? Or was she saying they couldn’t talk about this over the phone?”

  “You know what would make me feel better? Cherry pie from Suzettes. I wonder if they deliver.”

  “Pie sounds wonderful. Why don’t we have dessert in your room this evening. I’ll have the driver stop by Suzettes for carryout.”

  “That sounds like a great idea.”

  “I’ll see you in an hour, Bryn.�
��

  Valmont walked over to the bookshelf and grabbed all six copies of Days of Knights. “I’ll put these in my room.”

  Ivy glanced at the books. “Wait a minute. Weren’t there five books?”

  Bryn nodded. “There was an extra one when we came back last night. It has stories of dragons who went insane with greed and lust for power. It’s different than the other ones.”

  “Definitely not a book the Directorate would want us to read.” Ivy stood. “I’m guessing we’ll tell your grandmother the same story we told the guard.”

  “That’s my plan,” Bryn said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  An hour later, Bryn’s grandmother arrived. She wasn’t alone. Her driver walked behind her, carrying a large picnic hamper, which he set on Bryn’s library table before exiting the room.

  Bryn smiled and hugged her grandmother. “Thanks for coming over.”

  “It’s always nice to see you.” Her grandmother opened the hamper and pulled out china plates and real silverware. “Valmont, why don’t you help me set the table.”

  “Sure.” He made fast work of the place settings and then cut and divvied out slices of pie to three of the plates. On the fourth plate he set an entire pie. “Bryn, can you guess which spot is yours?”

  They all laughed. Due to the fact that Bryn used Quintessence to color her hair and do her makeup every day, she burned more than the average amount of calories, which meant she ate more food than most dragons. Valmont removed the whole pie and put a generous slice in Bryn’s spot instead.

  They all sat and Ivy recounted her story, in between bites of pie.

  “What do you think?” Bryn asked.

  Her grandmother laid her fork on the edge of her pie plate. “Let’s start with the easiest solutions first. Do you think Clint feels guilty he’s the reason you were in trouble and maybe that’s why he’s acting strangely?”

  Ivy shook her head. “Clint is…affectionate.” She grinned. “If he’s within touching distance, he’s holding my hand or touching my hair or something. This morning he didn’t touch me except to kiss me good-bye on the cheek, and even that didn’t feel right.”

  “Perhaps he was sedated,” her grandmother suggested. “If he was uncooperative when they questioned him, they could have medicated him in some way.”

  “You saying that like it’s a normal occurrence concerns me,” Bryn said.

  “In the past, when witnesses have been uncooperative, medics were called in to help with the situation. While it’s not common, it’s not unheard of.”

  “But we weren’t questioned,” Ivy said, “except for in Ferrin’s office.”

  Her grandmother’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”

  What was her grandmother getting at? “Do you think maybe they questioned Clint, but not Ivy?”

  “Ferrin would be more likely to question a male’s allegiance or to think he might be the one behind some sort of espionage.”

  That was an interesting bit of information to file away for later.

  Ivy stood. “If he was drugged, it would have to wear off eventually. Right? I’m going to check on him.” She wrapped a slice of pie in a napkin. “I’ll take him dessert as an excuse to go see him, which is stupid, because I shouldn’t need an excuse to visit my boyfriend.”

  “Your young man may be keeping you at arm’s length due to some threat made by Ferrin. If that is the case, he should be willing to tell you behind closed doors.”

  “Is there any way someone could impersonate Clint, act like a spy, and look exactly like him in an effort to gain information?” Valmont asked.

  “None that I know of,” her grandmother said, “but that doesn’t mean it’s not a possibility.”

  “So not the comforting advice I’d hoped you’d all give me,” Ivy said.

  “Call me later.” Bryn stood and walked her friend to the terrace window, letting her out and then locking the window again.

  Bryn’s grandmother sat sipping coffee she’d brought from Suzettes. “Bryn, I know you probably realize this, but it is of the utmost importance that you are never caught out after curfew. Ferrin would use your arrest to shame your grandfather. The political ramifications would be terrible, and the damage it would do to your standing in our family would be irreconcilable.”

  “I understand.” Bryn used her fork to swirl cherry pie goo around on her plate.

  “Something else is troubling you,” her grandmother said.

  “How did you know?” Bryn asked.

  Her grandmother pointed at the four pieces of pie left on the table. “If you were feeling yourself, there would be nothing left but crumbs.”

  Valmont chuckled.

  Bryn snatched another piece of pie and took a bite. “There is something else, but it’s a suspicion…nothing concrete.” She ducked her head. “I think there might be other, peaceful hybrids at school.”

  “Why, exactly, do you believe this?” Her grandmother’s tone was calm but wary.

  “It makes sense. If there are crazy hybrids out there attacking the Directorate, then we know there are other hybrids and not all of them have to be violent. Right? My parents weren’t crazy. I have a temper, but I’m not violent, and I don’t have the desire to physically attack the Directorate. I’d be happy to argue a few points with them, but I don’t have the desire to kill anyone because of politics.”

  “I suppose there is the chance other non-violent hybrids exist, but you shouldn’t go looking for them. If you found them, you’d be duty-bound to turn them over to your grandfather, and I doubt he’d be inclined to believe they were innocent in the attacks.”

  “You’re right.” Bryn finished off her pie. “It would make more sense not to look for anyone, because finding them would only cause more problems.”

  Her grandmother reached over and touched Bryn’s arm. “I’m glad you called me. Whenever you have questions, I will always try to help. I may not give you the answers you want, but I can help you avoid conflict with your grandfather.”

  Feeling the need to lighten the moment, Bryn said, “Plus, you bring pie.”

  Her grandmother laughed. “Yes, I do. Now I better go.”

  After a quick hug, Bryn let her grandmother out into the hall and locked the door behind her.

  “So what do you think is going on?” Valmont asked.

  “I have no idea.” The phone rang, and Bryn grabbed it.

  “It’s me,” Ivy’s voice came through the phone sounding happier than she’d been earlier. “Clint says thanks for the pie.”

  “Is he acting more normal?” Bryn asked.

  “He said he didn’t get much sleep last night because Ferrin questioned him and gave him something to drink that made him fuzzy-headed.”

  “So my grandmother was right? Does Clint remember what he told them?”

  “Ferrin asked about the attack on Dragon’s Bluff and about who you’re friends with. Then the asshat talked about what a shame it would be if he had to void our marriage contract.”

  Fire banked in Bryn’s gut. “What?”

  Ivy growled. “That’s why Clint was acting so weird today. He was worried they might be keeping tabs on us.”

  “What about the not touching you part?” Because that still seemed weird.

  “Apparently, Ferrin lectured him on proper behavior in public,” Ivy said, “and the Directorate frowns on public displays of affection.”

  Seriously? “Is Clint acting normal now?”

  “Mostly,” Ivy sighed. “I think they threatened him with more than he’s admitting, because he’s acting like he’s afraid to tell me too much.”

  Bryn heard a voice in the background. “Hold on. He wants to talk to you.”

  “I know there’s something not right with me today,” Clint spoke in a low, even tone. “It feels like I’m sleepwalking and looking over my shoulder at the same time. All the smart-ass comments that normally play on a loop in my head are gone. Whatever was in that crap they gave me to drink…it has to wear
off, right?”

  “Yes.” God, she hoped so. “Do you want to go see a medic? Or I could try to scan you with Quintessence.”

  “No.” Clint yawned. “I’m exhausted. All I want to do is sleep. If I’m still not myself tomorrow, maybe then you can scan me.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next morning, at breakfast in the dining hall, Clint appeared mostly back to normal.

  “Feeling better?” Bryn asked as she poured syrup onto a giant stack of pancakes.

  He nodded. “The smart-ass comments are back, but I have no desire to share them, which is weird.”

  Ivy reached over and brushed her fingers through part of Clint’s Mohawk. “He’s much better today.”

  “You thought I was a pod-person yesterday,” Clint teased.

  “You scared the crap out of me,” Ivy shot back.

  “Maybe,” Valmont said, “that was the point.”

  Syrup dripped off Bryn’s fork onto her blouse. “What do you mean?”

  Valmont cleared his throat and spoke in a quiet voice. “Maybe they wanted you to see what you had to lose if you didn’t obey their laws.”

  Bryn smacked her fork down on the table and spoke through clenched teeth. “That rat-bastard.” She managed to keep her voice down, but just barely. “This whole thing was a power play. He wanted to show us what he could do if we went against him.”

  “Like giving me a chemical lobotomy?” Clint stated in a normal tone of voice. “And yes that statement should have come out angry, but I can’t make that happen right now which makes this all the more terrifying.” He took a deep breath and blew it out. “It’s like Ferrin is controlling something in my head, changing my emotions and reactions, and it’s pissing me off.”

  “We’ll make sure you never wind up in a position where Ferrin will doubt your loyalty to the Directorate again,” Bryn said. And she meant it. No matter what, she would never involve Clint and Ivy in her investigations again.

  Ivy sighed. “I finally understand why you were afraid to share everything with us.”

  “I hate that you get it now, and this was the cost.” Smoke drifted from Bryn’s nostrils. “And I really hate that Ferrin seems more dangerous now than ever.”