Page 4 of The Last Bell
The man’s beefy hand tightens around a mallet in his wide leather tool belt, the heavy metal hammer whispering from its sheath with deadly malice. “You’re one of them.” He spits a glob onto the ashy cobblestones, his brown eyes hard. “Those fae murderers.”
Behind him, more and more people flock toward us, the fear and rancor in their scent shoving itself into my lungs. Many of the foreign royals merely look confused, but the cadets who know me are turning quickly from shell-shocked into furious. I see Rik and Puckler, mouths twisted with fury—and grim satisfaction.
My muscles tighten, my vision narrowing on the crowd, my fae ears picking up their spreading murmurs.
“…evil…disguised as a cadet…”
“…fae filth!”
“I knew there was something off about her…”
It clicks with a sudden, painful jolt, blood draining from my face as I jerk up a hand to trace my pointed ear. The amulet was destroyed—and with it, all the spun illusions the magic created.In the heat of the moment with Shade, storming out from the library into the unfolding disaster, I forgot that the amulet I’ve grown used to wearing was no longer there—and didn’t so much as cover my pointed ears.
Thad takes a step forward, menace riding in his wake.
I tense, feeling magic begin to fill my core. If I thought the full force of my power difficult to control before, it is doubly so now, with my instincts protecting not my life alone. “Easy, Thad,” I say, putting up my palms. “Let me explain. Please. There is enough violence without us adding more.”
“Kill her!” The woman I saw bent over the fallen athlete’s body glares at me now with pulsing hatred, her crown of rich red braids coming undone around her mottled face. “No, cut off her ears first and send them to her friends in the Great Hall. Let them know that what they do to ours, we’ll do to theirs.”
Voices rise in agreement, Thad hefting the mallet in his hand.
“Friends in the Great Hall? No.” I raise my voice, struggling to be heard over the rising chaos. Blood races through my veins, the ground trembling beneath me with a fine warning tremor that has as many people rushing away from me as reaching for their weapons. I swallow. “I’m not with Owalin. I came to protect you, not harm you. I’m on your side.”
“She lies!” An older woman who seems to be wearing a live green snake instead of a scarf strides out in front of the crowd and points a long finger at me. “I saw her set fire to the arena, helping Owalin take the hall!”
My stomach drops, all hope that I’ll escape this unscathed sinking away with it. Shade was right. I was so stupid—so incredibly stupid to come out here.
“I saw it too! She unleashed a firestorm atop us all. Women. Children. Everyone!” a man shouts from deeper in the crowd, and other voices join his. “My wife is on her deathbed because of this…this creature! I demand justice.”
The crowd shifts, the snake and her equally venomous owner both hissing as the calls of “Liar! Liar! Take her!” race across the courtyard. “Justice now! Don’t let thatthingescape!”
A wave of fear rushes through me. I open my mouth to shout that it was an accident, but even I know that nothing of the sort would help.
The crowd advances on me, Thad, the snake lady, and the Fothom queen leading the pack.
I step back to give myself space. Breathing room to think.
It’s a mistake. Like the scent of wounded prey in a predator’s nose, my retreat sends a renewed energy through the pulsing mob. With each new heartbeat, more people reach down to grab stones, pull daggers, wrap belts around their knuckles.
The air around me tightens.
“Get back. Now.” A cold voice that’s plainly used to bellowing commands over battlefields blankets the waiting crowd. Men and women part on instinct before Coal, whose rigid muscles and blazing blue eyes leave no room for argument.
The wave of relief is so strong, it nearly makes me dizzy. Tye stalks beside the warrior, stone-cold murder flashing in every sleek angle of his face, his hair nearly bloodred under the growing thunderclouds. Pushing in front of me, he raises his hands in the air and the Academy flag flapping on the top keep bursts into orange flame that sends a rush of sudden silence through the yard.
“Are you all right, mortal?” Coal murmurs, fear flashing in his eyes as he hands me one of the two swords on his back. The feel of solid steel in my hand is as comforting as the male’s fierce, metallic-scented presence. And as problematic. What good are we at protecting the mortal world from stray magic and rogue fae if we kill the lot of them in the process?
Coal and Tye’s approach has created a wide space between us and the humans, like two sides meeting on a battlefield.
I shift my weight in the shuffling, scraping silence, noting a flash of red up in a mezzanine window. Owalin watching us—watching and probably laughing as the humans waste precious minutes facing off against the wrong enemy. Three ravens circle high overhead, wheeling in the coming storm.
“Now what?” Tye asks us under his breath.
Before Coal or I can respond, a new cry rises amid the human crowd. “Kill them! Kill them all!”
3
Lera
