Page 36 of The Scars Within
I found Captain Thorne.
One.
I jumped.
My lungs decided to hang out back on the roof.
We had learned last week that hand movements were the easiest way to control air magic. Controlling it within your mind takes much more practice and perfection. I mimicked what Clara did and threw my arms in a half-circle motion as if to guide the air to push me to the right.
Nothing happened.
I was falling, flapping my arms like someone who had gotten high on hemlock. Panic swallowed me whole as a gust of wind shoved me to the right. I didn’t think twice; I grabbed hold of the rock and dug my toes into the groove between the stones. I took my first breath since jumping off the edge and looked up to see Skuttlezwagon holding her hands downward toward me. It wasn’t me channeling that gust of air. She saved my ass.
I closed my eyes and took a minute to calm my breathing as much as possible, mentally yelling at myself not to look down. Once my thoughts were the least bit collected, I shimmied my feet toward the next obstacle like Clara had. Once my body was stretched to the max, I ensured that my left hand was gripped firmly on the first rock as I reached with my right to grab the next one. I balanced my weight on my toes and side-jumped to grab the second obstacle.
Oh, my elements. I made it.
Cheers erupted from the ground. I had my hands around the rock and the ball of my toes on the narrow platform. All I needed to do next was make it to the rope, and then they would help me down. I breathed in and out. I had to move quickly because I could feel my hands slipping out of the gloves. My assumption about these was correct.
I breathed in.
I could do this.
I looked up at the rope.
I could do this.
I breathed out.
I could do this.
I looked down.
I couldn’t do this.
My body spasmed, and my hands slipped off the rock. I was falling face-first. The grass was quickly racing up to meet me. I may have screamed, but my mind was so clouded with the fear of falling to my doom that I couldn’t tell. The wind howled in my ears and tore at my clothing and hair. I felt the bundled tunic break free. Every second stretched into an eternity; the raw, exhilarating sensation of free fall consumed my entire being.
My body hit the ground. The feeling was like a boulder being thrown into my chest. No, I was floating. The feeling must have been the gust of air that Professor Reynoski sent up to catch my fall. He lowered me onto the grass like I was as light as a feather.
Laney and Tatum ran towards me and fell to their knees once my back hit the ground. All I could see was their faces directly above mine. They were panicking and asking if I was okay, but I could barely hear over the ringing in my ears. Skuttlezwagon had made it down the lift and was towering behind Tatum. She stood there for a moment before walking away. My friends hauled me to my feet and draped my arms over their shoulders.
Skuttlezwagon, Reynoski, and Captain Thorne turned to face us. The entire class of first-years behind them was quiet and still. Reynoski dipped his chin as a sign of approval for my effort, and Skuttlezwagon said, “Nice job, Thorne.”
My father jerked his head towards Skuttlezwagon and then back to me, realization washing over his color-drained features.
I coughed. “Scarlet,” I looked him dead in the eyes. “Scarlet Thorne.”
Chapter 14
I wish I could say that once my father realized who I was, I had my shining moment that I’ve dreamt of. But, once again, he bailed. Captain Thorne said nothing when I announced my full name. He just turned and stormed off back into the college.
Looks like people never change.
My friends and I grabbed our lunch trays and quietly escaped the Bolthole. No one seemed to notice as we slipped out of the cafeteria.
Laney had definitely spruced up the place. She’d scavenged a couple of broken benches from a utility closet–which she for sure wasn’t supposed to be browsing– and asked Cleo to wrap vines around the legs to strengthen them. Cleo hadn’t just revived the bushes in the corners; she’d added flowers along the edges and draped hanging ivy over the open-air ceiling, transforming the space into something magical.
It really had become our cozy little hangout.
