Page 46 of Wicked Dove
“No.”
Rolling my eyes, I block him out as I focus on Professor Grimm, who takes that moment to clear his throat, and the classroom falls silent.
“Today, we are learning about this,” Grimm starts, holding a wooden box in his hands. It’s a rich oaken color with golden fastenings and a matching key hole. “The Emberlock,” he explains, taking a moment to hold it up higher, making sure everyone can see. “Can anyone tell me what this is?”
A girl from the green section immediately lifts her hand in the air, waving it eagerly for attention, which Professor Grimm gives her. “Please, Miss Gardenia.”
She beams with pride before she even speaks. “It unleashes hellfire.”
It unleashes what now?
“Correct,” Grimm says, nodding in confirmation.
Perhaps they should place it in a safer location. I don’t like the idea of that being in the same room as some of these people. As if my mind conjures her, I spy Willow in the red section. Her gaze is already fixed on me, narrowed and challenging, like she’s hoping to get her hands on the damn box and aim it in my direction.
“Do you know who created it?” Grimm asks, pulling me from my creative thoughts, but even though the question is aimed at the same girl, his eyes shift to the seat behind me and to the right.
Thorne.
“The Shadow King,” Gardenia murmurs, almost afraid to say the words, but if Grimm notices, he doesn’t acknowledge it.
“Excellent,” he hollers, confirming her answer, and his stare shifts from Thorne. “It was the work of Goddard himself. Does anyone know how to open one?” he asks, and the room remains silent, not even Gardenia has an answer for this one. “I’d like to say that’s a good thing, but sometimes, desperate times call for desperate measures, and this, my dear students, is a desperate measure. Once opened, the one who lifted the veil of magic is bestowed one whisper, and that whisper will direct the flames of Hell at their command.”
“What will it do once it reaches its mark?” a guy from the blue section calls out, and Professor Grimm’s eyes light up.
“It burns.”
I gulp down my nerves despite his answer being the obvious one, and my gaze darts to Willow, who grins.
“How do I acquire one, Professor Grimm?” she asks, eyes still latched onto mine, and irritation coils through my veins. She bested me once; I can’t let that happen again.
“They’re restricted for a reason, Miss Willow.”
“Not to my mother,” she retorts, a challenge to her tone, but Grimm doesn’t seem to heed the warning.
“Yes, to your mother. To us all.”
“So why show us?” Gardenia asks, and Grimm points a pleased finger in her direction.
“Because evil roams the exterior of The Vale. Rebellions are hellbent on bringing us to our knees. Despite the best efforts of The Sanctum, I’m sure one day they will get closer than we wish, and on that day, we may need to call on such a thing. Now, I’m going to pass the device between rows. You each have five minutes within your section to attempt to open it,” he exclaims, making his way to the opposite end of the room first.
Willow’s eyes gleam with excitement, eager to unleash the magic and make me its target.
Instead of watching her and giving her the audience she desires, I turn my attention to Ocean.
“Rebellions?” I ask, keeping my voice low, and she hums, but a response comes from my right before she can speak.
“There has to be a balance somehow, Petal.”
I want to pretend he doesn’t exist, but his statement has piqued my curiosity. “A balance?” I ask, turning to face him. My tongue swipes across my bottom lip as I spy his scar, but it’s safer to look at that than his eyes. They’re a beacon to my demise. I already know it.
“Of right and wrong,” he states, and I frown. “It’s impossible to have a world built where everyone stands on the same morals; all you can do is choose what matters to you.”
He says it so casually, it leaves me off-kilter.
“In this world, I don’t know what matters to me, and I hope I’m not here long enough to find out,” I admit, earning one of his megawatt grins. “Actually, maybe if the rebels break in, they can let me out?” I add, watching the sparkle in his eyes dim slightly, but before I can read too much into it, grumbling from across the room echoes around us.
“No! Bring it back!” Willow snarls through clenched teeth, but Professor Grimm ignores her, along with the rest of the room, as if they haven’t caused uproar.
