Page 56 of Burning Heir

Malachi smacked my shoulder, studying the swirled mark I’d shown her. “A fire quell?”

I held my grin back. “A lot happened last night.”

Myla widened her eyes. “Between you and Damien? I saw you two in the halls.”

Antonia straightened her posture, obviously listening to us. “No, not that. Stop talking. I have missed too many classes. I will explain everything later.”

Professor Cain stepped into the classroom and instantly perked up. “I sense a new quell in the room,” he said.

Malachi twirled her finger, and a gust of wind raised my hand unwillingly. Every eye shifted toward me.

I stirred for a second, clearing my throat. “Um, yes, sir. I found my quell yesterday.”

Cain motioned for me to step forward. Damien held his grin on me as I walked toward the center of the class. “Open your palm, dear.” Cain motioned at my hands, his gaze tight on the swirled relic. “A fire quell can become destructive easily in warding, making the shield deadly. But this relic is antecedent, meaning this is not your natural power, yet a given one from a fallen rider.” Cain stepped back, knocking into the table and shattering a glass vial. “Oh, dear—”

I felt everyone’s eyes burning into me as I stared at Professor Cain. “What is it?” I asked.

“Blanche, you may sit down. Herring can take over.”

His reaction startled me.

Myla squeezed my elbow as I retook my seat. “We are quite the opposite, I suppose. You’re fire, and I am ice.”

“I guess we are.” My voice was low, barely a whisper. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

Malachi rose, stepping toward the center of the class. She opened her palm, and a flurry of wind brewed from within, whirling around until nearly every paper in the class flew and fluttered like a storm was silenced to four walls.

“Someone test my shield,” she yelled over the prowling winds, nearly throwing students to the sides.

I opened my palm, igniting a small flame, but Damien beat me to it. Tiny glass shards rose from his hands. He flicked his wrist at her shield, and the fragments ricocheted off, falling to the ground in a thousand pieces.

“Excellent, Lynch. You’ve been practicing. Now, a glass shield is not something I would want to step inside.” His core chuckled loudly. “No one wants to be pulling out shards from their face for a month.”

Antonia raised her hand. “I thought antecedent quells were rare.”

Professor Cain straightened his crooked glasses back on his nose. “There are three types of quells one can gain: your natural quell, which you are born with, and a vested quell, which is the power your enigma gives you. Normally, after years of bond. An antecedent quell is passed on after a previous rider passes, and the enigma consumes that power. That power may be decades old. Most only obtain their natural quell. But an antecedent quell can be passed on through hundreds of bonds.”

Antonia crinkled her nose. “Is it normal for a Winter to gain a fire quell?” She flattened her hand. “Who’s to say that I won’t strike daylight from my palm in a year from now,” she hissed.

Cain pressed his lips together. “I believe the enigma chooses where you will reign or live. Now, that is only speculation.”

I glanced toward Malachi as we practiced our shields. “Should I be worried about dragon training?”

“Monty and Archer are great teachers. But you are behind.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, puckered lips smacking. “I’m sure everyone will play nice today.”

“Play nice?”

Noon struck, and the clock’s chime sent the class scattering. I lingered behind, my steps faltering as Malachi glanced over her shoulder, sensing my hesitation. She paused, but I waved her off.

Professor Cain bent to sweep up the shattered glass, his movements stiff and distracted. I crouched to help, tossing a jagged shard into the bin. “Professor,” I began, my voice low. “Earlier, you felt… something in me. Can I ask what it was?”

Cain froze mid-motion, his hand gripping the broom tightly. “Severyn, I’m not sure what you mean,” he said, though his eyes betrayed unease.

A sting ran through my hand as a shard nicked my finger. I winced, blood welling at the cut. Meeting his gaze, I pressed, “I know what I saw, sir. You can sense quells, can’t you?”

He glanced over his shoulder, his face paling. “Death,” he murmured, the word heavy and sharp. “I felt death inside you.”

The air seemed to thin, and an icy shiver raced down my spine. My steps faltered as I backed away, nearly knocking another vial from the table. “I’ll… see you tomorrow,” I managed, my words tumbling over each other as I slipped from the room.

---