Xaden drops two wineskins into their laps, and I snatch the tablecloth from the floor, then throw it over the case.
“Zihnal may love you, but let’s not test him,” Aaric grits through his teeth, holding out a blistered hand.
“It’s going to hurt—” I protest, tying my belt tight.
“And I’m not leaving you in here.” He grabs hold of my hand and grunts in pain as he pulls us through the wards and into the hallway.
My hand is sticky when he lets go.
“We have to run.” Xaden gestures down the hallway, and I do exactly that. Run.
When the robe gets in the way, I gather the fabric in my hands and sprint, following Xaden as he races up the stairs.
“Bet you’re glad we’ve been running every morning!” Imogen calls from behind me as we turn and turn and turn, the staircase dizzying me by the time we emerge into the classroom.
Xaden reaches for the lever Jesinia used, and as soon as Imogen and Aaric are clear, he pushes. We wait only long enough to see that the entrance begins closing before taking off again.
My chest heaves as we run down the hallways, Xaden taking every turn Jesinia did, never once questioning himself. Either he’s really certain of the path or he knows we can’t afford the time to even debate.
We reach the main library and the bells ring out, signaling an hour has passed. “Faster!” Xaden demands.
They peal once.
There is no faster, but I don’t have enough breath to snap back at him. Our boots pound against the marble as we race between the tables.
Twice.
“Run!” Sawyer shouts from the entrance.
Oh gods the door.
Three times.
It’s closing on its own, and the locking mechanism won’t allow it to open until a full twelve hours passes. The muscles in my thighs burn in protest.
I skid as we turn at the last of the tables, sliding into the end of the bookshelf and hitting my shoulder hard enough to wince.
A fourth.
Xaden falls back to run at my side, but he’s the faster of us.
“Take the books!” I shout between gasping breaths. “You can make it!”
A fifth.
“You stay, I stay!” He lifts a hand, sprinting with it outstretched, and shadows fly from the walls to push against the closing door as we pass the study table.
Sawyer clears the narrow path that remains between the thick steel of the door and its casing.
The bells ring out a sixth time.
Xaden pushes me through the doorway first, and once I’m in, I look back, my breaths ragged and my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my head.
Imogen races by, and Xaden reaches into the doorway as the seventh bell peals.
Oh gods, he’s going to lose an arm, and Aaric—
They’re not going to make it.
My last words with my father before the Battle of Aretia were spoken in anger, because he was sending me away for my own safety.
I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive myself for that, but I like to think he forgivesme.
—RECOVERED CORRESPONDENCE OF LIEUTENANT XADEN RIORSON TO CADET VIOLET SORRENGAIL
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Xaden yanks Aaric through just as the door slams shut, shadows scattering along the floor like fallen leaves.
I sag, leaning over and bracing my hands above my knees as I gasp for air.
“You made it!” Rhiannon ducks her head to mine, smiling wide.
“And we have to keep making it,” Xaden reminds us. “Robes off. Keep to the plan.”
My heart slows somewhat, and I straighten, then shrug out of the scribe’s robes, putting them in Quinn’s outstretched palms.
Bodhi helps Aaric out of his, careful with his blistered hands.
“Did you get them?” Jesinia signs, hope lighting her face.
I nod. “Will they suspect you?” Nasya looks more unconscious than asleep against the wall.
“Not if I get us back to the dorms quickly,” she replies.
“I’ll take care of him,” Imogen says, heading over to Nasya.
“He shouldn’t remember much. I hit him from behind,” Sawyer admits, stuffing the robes into a large cream laundry bag.
I translate for Jesinia.
“I’ll just berate him for falling asleep,” she signs back, offering Sawyer a smile, and I translate.
He blinks, pausing for a long second before taking the last robe—Aaric’s— and putting it into the bag. “Damn, your hands…”
The blisters that have popped are bleeding, and those that haven’t look like they might go at any second.
“That’s a rebound burn,” Bodhi says. “It will clear up overnight if treated.”
“Change to the plan.” I glance at Xaden, but he merely lifts an eyebrow. “Ridoc, take Aaric to your room and keep his hands hidden. Rhi, go to the infirmary and ask for Dyre. A mender will draw too much attention. It might take him some time to report if he’s not on duty, but he should keep quiet if you call in the debt he owes me. You’ll have to sneak him into the quadrant—”
“Good idea. I can do that.” She nods to the guys. “C’mon. Now.” The three of them take off down the hallway.
“I’ll take the laundry,” Jesinia signs.
I translate for Sawyer, and he hands over the bag.
“Let’s move,” Xaden orders.
“Go,” Jesinia urges. “We’re clear here.”
“Thank you,” I sign, then head out with Xaden and the others.
“How did it go for you?” Xaden asks Quinn as we pass the stairs on our left and continue toward the Healer Quadrant.
“I projected into commons and made it clear I was looking for lemonade because we’ve all been drinking in Imogen’s room.” She grins, a dimple popping in her cheek. “And then I managed to take a walk as Violet and Rhiannon.”
My mouth drops and I nearly stumble. “You projected looking like someone else?”
She nods. “I can distort my own features a little, but it’s way easier in the astral plane. My signet is stronger because Cruth was my great-aunt’s dragon. But she’s not a direct descendant, so I don’t have to worry about going mad like those whose dragons bond in the direct familial line. Dragons aren’t supposed to even get close to family lines for that exact reason—like they listen to human rules.” She glances at Imogen. “I still can’t quite get the right shade of pink for your hair.”
We fall quiet as we pass by the infirmary. It’s the last obstacle before we can split up in the quadrant as planned.
“Well, that was blissfully uneventful.” Bodhi pushes open the door to the bridge.
“Speak for yourself,” Imogen replies, smacking him in the chest as she walks by. “You weren’t in charge of keeping Xaden calm while Aaric had Violet trapped behind the wards with him.”
I scoff, because we both know that’s not how that went down.
Xaden’s jaw ticks.
We part once we reach the other side of the bridge. Imogen and Quinn take the stairs to their rooms, Bodhi and Sawyer head to commons to make as much of a scene as they can in order to be remembered, and Xaden and I climb to the first floor and escape into the courtyard.
The October air cools my flushed cheeks.
“You feel all right?” Xaden asks as we pass a group of cadets.