Trial By Fire (Going Down in Flames)

by Chris Cannon

  From her other side, Valmont muttered something about Jaxon and his amazing ability to walk with such a giant stick crammed up a certain orifice. Bryn clamped her lips shut to keep from laughing and then turned to glare at her knight.

  “I make no apologies.” Valmont crossed his arms over his chest. “It needed to be said.”

  Waiters pushed carts into the room. The savory scent of steak filled the air, and Bryn’s stomach growled.

  As the waitstaff passed out plates, Ferrin stood. “It’s my understanding you were falsely detained and questioned last evening. And I do see the irony in your presence being mandated here. Please enjoy lunch and then we’ll discuss this situation.”

  Bryn inhaled her steak, and then wondered if she could ask for seconds.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Jaxon said.

  “Fine.”

  “I don’t like that,” Valmont whispered to Bryn.

  “Don’t like what?”

  “The way you two seem to know what the other is thinking. Earlier in the gym you warned him not to do something and now he did the same to you.”

  “Oh.” What did she say to that? “Maybe it’s a Blue thing.”

  The plates were cleared away. Coffee was served.

  “Now,” Ferrin said, “we’d like to start with Garret. Can you walk us through the events of last evening?”

  Garret launched into his tale about being detained and questioned. “They made us drink something and then badgered us with questions about the attack on Dragon’s Bluff, which none of us were present for. Although that didn’t seem to matter to them. Then they lectured us about obeying the curfew law which made no sense given that we hadn’t been out after curfew.” Garret blinked. “Now that I know you weren’t involved, I think their main purpose was to make us hostile toward the Directorate.”

  “And why would they want that?” Ferrin asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Garret sat back in his chair and looked at Ferrin like he was the one being interrogated.

  “I have my own opinions,” Ferrin said. “I’d like you to share yours.”

  “I think all of it—last night, the attacks on campus, and on Dragon’s Bluff—are meant to set us on a path to a revolution. The attackers think if they can sway the students’ opinion on the Directorate then maybe we can convince our parents to rebel, which would lead to a change in how dragons are governed.”

  “And is that something you’re interested in?” Ferrin’s question sounded more like an accusation.

  Garret pushed his chair back and stood. “I lost the use of my arm because of those bastards. In what world would I ever side with them?”

  Everyone froze as the tension in the room skyrocketed.

  “And you tried to keep me from coming back to school because of my…how was it phrased in that wonderful letter… deformity. You suggested I not return because of my deformity.” Garret spat the word. “But I’m here because I want to study and learn, and because I plan to create a prosthetic which will allow injured dragons to fly. I expect this creation to be fully funded and backed by the Directorate as recompense for what happened to me and my fellow students.” He leaned on the table with his good arm, like the speech had taken a lot out of him. “Sorry, these are emotional times. And I hate that someone manipulated me and my Clan-mates last night. It worked, until I spoke to Bryn and Jaxon.” He chuckled. “They are an oddly effective team.”

  Bryn’s grandfather smiled at her. She shook her head but smiled back, and then she had a thought. “Could we, and by we, I mean the Sinclairs, fund Garret’s prosthetics project?”

  “That is something the Directorate must vote on,” Ferrin said at the same time her grandfather nodded and said, “Yes.”

  “You can’t do that,” Ferrin stated in his I-am-the-king voice.

  “I believe this is more a case of my granddaughter asking to help a friend rather than an official bequeathal from a Directorate member.” Her grandfather tilted his head toward Bryn.

  “Yes. That’s what I meant,” Bryn said, working hard to keep an innocent expression on her face.

  Ferrin’s lip curled up in a snarl. “This is an official Directorate meeting. There will be no more personal matters discussed.”

  Bryn tried to look contrite but knew she failed miserably. She risked a glance at Jaxon but couldn’t read his non-expression. She was 100 percent sure he’d agree that Garret’s prosthetics plan should be funded, but he wouldn’t speak against his father. What would happen on the day when Jaxon disagreed with his father’s policies enough to speak up?

  Dessert was served while the Directorate members questioned the other Greens. It was carrot cake, the same kind of cake Alec had infused with dragon bane to poison Bryn. Had Ferrin done this on purpose? There was not a chance in hell she would eat carrot cake ever again. He had to know that.

  Jaxon’s eyebrows came together as he studied the cake. His gaze flicked to his father, who was still questioning someone. Did he suspect his father had done this on purpose?

  Bryn leaned over. “Is this supposed to be a snub of some sort?”

  Jaxon pushed his cake away. “I doubt my father planned the menu, otherwise I’d say yes.”

  Wait a minute. “I’m surprised you’d admit that.”

  He smirked. “My father may respect your power and the Sinclairs in general, but he certainly doesn’t like you.”

  “The feeling is more than mutual,” Bryn shot back.

  “Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Ferrin announced. “Feel free to finish your dessert, but we have pressing matters to attend to.”

  “Back in a minute,” Bryn said to Valmont. She pushed her chair back, intending to speak to her grandfather.

  Valmont stood with her. “Like you’re going anywhere without me.”

  “It’s across the room,” Bryn said.

  He placed his hand on her lower back and whispered, “I don’t trust half the people in this room.”

  “On that we are agreed.” She made her way over to her grandfather. “Thank you for agreeing to fund Garret’s project.”

  “It’s a worthy cause, and it will help generate some much needed good will. Plus, it annoys Ferrin.” Her grandfather chuckled.

  “Mr. Sinclair,” Garret joined the conversation. “I echo Bryn’s sentiments. Thank you for funding my project. There was another idea I hoped to discuss with you before you left.”

  Her grandfather checked his watch. “I must leave in ten minutes.”

  “This won’t take long,” Garret said. “Today, Jaxon and Bryn helped diffuse a situation which could have gotten out of hand. Having an open line with the Directorate would help ease student concerns. Would it be possible to appoint them as a sort of Student Directorate Council?”

  “On that, we would have to vote,” her grandfather said, “but I approve of the idea. We’re headed back to vote on a few more items this evening. Before we adjourn, I’ll open a discussion on this topic.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Garret left them.

  “Before I forget,” her grandfather pulled a jeweler’s box from his coat pocket, “here’s the bracelet you wanted. It is irreplaceable, so be sure to read the instructions on how to care for it.”

  It must be her elemental sword bracelet. “Thank you.” She felt a warm connection toward her grandfather. Something she had never expected to happen. Maybe it was because he’d stepped in and helped her friend, or maybe she was finally beginning to understand him. “I don’t suppose hugging you would be appropriate?”

  He paused like he was considering her request. “No.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “But I am touched you would ask.” He nodded at Valmont and left the room.

  “I’m starting to like him,” Valmont said.

  “Me, too.”

  On the walk back across campus, Bryn noticed the Valentine’s Day decorations had been added to the lampposts.

  Valmont sighed. “One crisis averted. Next adventure
, the dreaded Valentine’s Day dance.”

  “According to Ivy, it will be fun.” Bryn snorted to show what she thought of the situation.

  “There is one problem we didn’t consider,” Valmont said. “I don’t have a tuxedo.”

  “Oh,” Bryn schooled her features to maintain an innocent expression, “I’m sure Jaxon has one you could borrow.”

  “That is so not funny.” Valmont reached over and tugged on her hair.

  She laughed. “No one said a tux was mandatory.”

  “Please, I already stand out like a Fruit Loop in a bowl of Cheerios. I’ll call my father and have him pick something out for me. The shop should be able to deliver a package to the guards at the gate. We can pick it up after they determine it’s not a bomb.”

  When they reached her dorm room, Bryn tried not to eavesdrop on Valmont’s conversation with his father, but it was hard not to. The good news was Valmont laughed a lot as he talked to his parents. The bad news was Bryn hadn’t thought to suggest he call them more often, though it wasn’t like she kept him from using the phone. Maybe he called some nights after she went to sleep. There was no reason he couldn’t call, except he spent all his time with her.

  After he hung up, she held out the jeweler’s box. “Want to read the owner’s manual with me?”

  “Sure.” He joined her at the library table.

  Snapping the box open, Bryn blinked at what lay inside. “That’s not my bracelet.” A platinum cuff bracelet decorated with sapphires winked at her from the blue silk lining.

  Valmont pointed at the small envelope tucked into the lid of the box. “Maybe there’s an explanation in the note.”

  Bryn retrieved the envelope and upended it, and a thick square of paper fell out. She unfolded it and read aloud. “We changed the exterior to better match current jewelry and to make it look like something a Sinclair might wear.” So her gold bracelet hadn’t been up to Sinclair standards? That was crap. “It will still operate as it did before. To turn on the new safety feature, which keeps the bracelet from activating, press the stones with your left palm. To activate it, wrap your left hand around the bracelet and squeeze.”

  Sounded simple enough. Bryn placed the bracelet on her right wrist and waited to see if it would sting her again. Nothing happened. Maybe the bracelet recognized her now. She squeezed it and then she pantomimed holding a sword. Fire and ice shot from her palm. “Thank goodness. I was afraid it wouldn’t work.”

  She released the sword, and it vanished. Then she tried the “off switch” by pressing the sapphires with her palm. It worked. After playing with it a few more times, Valmont said, “Do you plan on wearing it all the time?”

  “Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”

  “Kind of makes me feel obsolete.”

  Seriously? Are male egos so fragile? “Wrong. This is one more weapon in my dragon defense kit. I still need my partner in crime, or whatever you want to call yourself.”

  “So you still need me?”

  “Of course. Do you think I want to face the Valentine’s Day dance by myself?”

  “True. And I’ll be spectacularly handsome in a tuxedo.”

  She laughed. “Of course you will.”

  …

  The day of the dance, Ivy came to Bryn’s room so they could get ready together. Apparently, Ivy had interpreted this to mean she had free rein over Bryn’s hair and makeup.

  “Hold still.” Ivy came at Bryn with an eyelash curler.

  “Nope.” Bryn batted the metal device away. “I don’t trust those things. They feel like they’re going to pull my eyelashes out by the roots.”

  “That’s only if you put mascara on first.” Ivy pointed at the bed. “Sit. Let me have my fun.”

  Ivy had put up with a boatload of crap to be her friend. “Fine.”

  “Don’t blink.” Ivy captured Bryn’s lashes in the miniature vice and squeezed.

  “As soon as you say don’t blink, that’s all I want to do.”

  Ivy ignored her. “There. Done.” Ivy released her lashes and applied several coats of mascara.

  Normally, Bryn would do all her makeup using Quintessence, but she didn’t want to miss out on this girly bonding ritual, so she allowed Ivy to apply eyeliner way past the corner of her eyes. She could feel the liner swirling toward her hairline.

  “Don’t take offense, but what are you doing?”

  “I am making you look artistic and mysterious and fabulous.” After drawing on the other side of her face, Ivy sighed in satisfaction. “Valmont won’t know what hit him.”

  Bryn jumped up and checked the mirror. Ivy had extended eyeliner in swirling curving lines, which gave Bryn the illusion of a mask and somehow scales. “You should so be a makeup artist.”

  Ivy laughed. “That’s one of my options.” She grabbed red liner and started drawing around her own eyes, doodling lines that turned into hearts. “What do you think? Too soft for my tattooed kick-ass chick image?”

  “No,” Bryn said. Ivy’s wild hair balanced out the softness of the hearts. “I can’t believe red eyeliner works on you.”

  “Any color works if you know how to use it.”

  A knock sounded on Bryn’s bedroom door. “Are you ever coming out?” Valmont asked from the other side of the door. “Clint got here fifteen minutes ago.”

  Bryn checked her reflection in the mirror. The platinum cuff bracelet matched her outfit perfectly. And somehow the midnight blue dress made her look regal, like she actually was a Blue. That was a weird thought. “I think we’re ready.”

  “Yes, we are.” Ivy pointed at the door. “Let me go out first, I want to see Valmont’s reaction.”

  Did she look that much different than she normally did? Sure, the fancy eyeliner gave her a mystery woman appeal, but it didn’t change who she was. Still it would be fun to see his reaction.

  Bryn followed Ivy into the living room. When Valmont glanced her way, she anticipated a sexy smile, or an appreciative glance. What she got was a wrinkled brow and a look of confusion. Her stomach went cold with disappointment. Well, crap. So much for sexy and mysterious.

  “What do you think?” Bryn hoped to prod him into giving her a compliment or at least force him to say something to explain the strange expression on his face.

  “Your dress is nice.” Valmont’s tone was wooden.

  “Nice?” Bryn’s tone rose a bit too high.

  Valmont shot a glance toward Clint and Ivy. “Would you wait in the hall for a moment?”

  “Sure.” Clint grabbed Ivy’s hand and pulled her to the door. The couple whispered to each other on their way out.

  Bryn’s irritation rose.

  He cleared his throat. “Remember what we discussed. No matter what I say, I’m still your knight.”

  Unless what he said really pissed her off and she cremated him. “Still my knight. Got it. Go on.”

  He walked over and sat on the couch leaning back to stare up at the ceiling. “There’s no easy way to explain this. You look ethereal, amazing, other-worldly.”

  “And those are compliments, so why do you look like you’re about to go before a firing squad?”

  He sat up and waved his hand toward her. “Those are good things, or they would be if I was in the same species. Tonight, well, you’ve never looked more desirable and you’ve never looked less human.”

  “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a dragon.”

  “I know that. Most of the time you look like a girl and act like a kick-ass dragon. Tonight you look like you’re someone I don’t belong with.”

  What in the holy hell was he talking about? She pointed at him, “Knight” and pointed at herself, “Dragon. I thought you had figured that out by now.”

  He stood, shaking his head. “Forget I said anything. Let’s go to the dance.”

  “Forget? Just like that?” Frost shot from her nose. “This was supposed to be a fun romantic night. But Ivy gets a little fancy with eyeliner and you freak out and tell me I don’t look like your g
irl anymore and now you tell me to forget it?” Her voice grew louder with every word. “How in the hell am I supposed to do that?”

  The door popped open. Ivy stuck her head in. “It’s almost time. We should go.”

  “Stupid freaking dances.” Bryn stomped out the door and down the hall, not caring if Valmont followed or not, though it wasn’t like he actually had a choice to follow her, even if he didn’t want to. He was still her knight and bound to protect her from whatever weirdness was headed her way.

  Ivy fell in step with her while Clint drifted back to walk next to Valmont. “What did he say?” Ivy asked.

  Smoke shot from Bryn’s nostrils. “Apparently, I look like someone else tonight, someone he doesn’t belong with.”

  “That’s not what I said,” Valmont objected from behind her.

  Bryn stopped and pivoted around to face him. “Really?”

  Valmont opened his mouth and then paused. “Okay. Maybe I said it, but I didn’t mean it how you’re taking it.”

  Clint scratched his head. “Try again, dude.”

  Valmont sighed. “You want to know what my problem is? Tonight, dressed up all fancy like this, you look like you belong with Jaxon.”

  Fire roared in Bryn’s gut. Sparks shot from her nostrils. “Now is not the time for you to develop an inferiority complex.”

  “We’ll see you at the dance.” Clint grabbed Ivy’s hand and tugged her down the hall toward the staircase.

  “It’s makeup, you moron,” Ivy shouted back toward them as Clint tugged her forward.

  “What she said,” Bryn spat.

  Valmont’s posture stiffened and then he headed back toward her room. “How about we finish this discussion in private?”

  She followed him back into her room, slammed the door, and waited for him to explain why he was acting so strangely.

  Valmont rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m trying to think of a way to say this so you’ll understand. It’s just that…being human doesn’t make me inferior.”

  “I never said it did. You’re the one with the problem.”

  He nodded. “You’re right. I do have a problem. I’m in love with someone from another species.”