Page 4 of Shadow Warrior
In fact, the whole room was standing to attention.
Henrich appeared at the lectern at the front of the room. He stood, hands braced on the wood, head bowed as if in deep thought. As if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
“Shadow knights and cadets,” he began. “We have been tested, and we have come out strong. The ancient virus that swept over this land has never been averted before, and yet we succeeded in destroying it. Your Shadow Master and his council traveled through the mist, and we sought the help we needed to stop this atrocity.”
Carlo balked and looked down at me. “Say what?” he mouthed.
The pulse at my throat began to beat faster. Henrich was fucking taking credit for stopping Rage. My throat was tight with indignation. How fucking dare he?
Carlo laced his fingers through mine and squeezed. It was a warning. A don’t-make-a-scene squeeze, but what the fuck could I do? Henrich was the Shadow Master. I mean, who else knew the truth? My troop? Deana? Hyde? The latter two, the two with any sway, weren’t even here. As far as the knights knew, Henrich had gone into the mist, and then Rage had been destroyed.
The weavers didn’t come to the fortress, and the knights didn’t go to the Academy. He’d probably gotten the knights that had been with him that day on his side. This was a lie that would stick. One that gave Henrich even more power, because who in the world would believe the word of a criminal cadet over a Shadow Master.
Henrich was still talking. “With the weavers’ help, we were able to beat back the threat and survive, and now we must persevere in our duty. I’ve heard the whispers, the rumor that many of you believe that considering the many attacks on us, the graduation trial should be canceled. But I ask you this … Should we allow the fomorians to dictate our traditions? Should we lower our standards simply to make up our numbers? Or should we stand firm and be the protectors we were born to be?”
There was a low rumble of agreement.
Oh, he was good.
“The trials will go ahead as planned, but we will hold them a week after the half-term break.”
The assembly hall broke out into a cacophony of exclamations. He was bringing the trials ahead by a month.
He held up his hands, and the room fell into silence. “This is not a decision we have taken lightly. The fomorian threat grows, and the sooner we welcome new knights into our ranks, the better.”
His hard gaze swept over the crowd and snagged on me. No guilt, nothing. He stared at me as if he had every right to his earlier words, and the ball of anger inside my stomach churned, wanting out.
“Cadets, you will be tested. Only the strongest will survive. Be ready.”
He made to step back from the lectern when a voice piped up.
“What about Harmon?”
Carlo sucked in a sharp breath.
Oh, shit, I knew that voice.
Thomas.
Henrich ignored him and stepped down from the lectern.
“Hey!” Thomas called out. “What about Harmon, the cadet that was taken. He came back. What will happen to him?”
“The cadet is back?” a knight a row ahead of us said.
“Harmon’s back?” another one asked.
Henrich stepped back up to the lectern. His jaw was tight, his nostrils flaring with each breath as if he was trying to keep his cool.
“Yes,” Henrich said. “The cadet that was taken by the fomorians has returned to us and is being vetted as we speak.”
“And then what?” Thomas asked.
“Crap,” Carlo cursed softly. “He needs to shut his mouth.”
Henrich fixed his gaze on Thomas. “If he survives, he will return to duty.”
There. It was out. The possibility of death.
