“We’d be grateful for something to eat, Stella,” Stone says, magicking several chairs into the office and pushing Rhi into the first, followed by me.
Barone lowers the pig to the floor and it goes scuttling toward Rhi.
Mrs. Holyhill takes a seat as well, while Coach Hank leans against the door, his arms crossed over his chest as if he’s guarding the entrance – that or preventing our escape.
Principal York clicks her fingers and a kettle in the corner switches on to boil and a tin of cookies deposits itself in my lap. I take two, hesitate then take a third, suddenly so hungry I could happily stuff all thirty cookies in my mouth at once. Then I pass them onto Piglet, who does exactly the same.
“They have magical restorative powers,” Principal York explains as she sets several tea cups in a row along her desk.
I sink back into my chair and take a bite into the cookie. We flew straight here, not stopping to eat, and my belly is most definitely empty. I’m guessing Piglet’s is too. She moans in pleasure as she bites into a cookie despite the three teachers in this classroom with us. However, despite her hunger, after a couple of bites, she feeds the rest to the pig.
York tips hot water into an ancient-looking teapot and after a swirl of her fingers, pours steaming tea into each of the teacups.
“No milk, I’m afraid,” she says, passing the first to Rhi.
Rhi balances her remaining cookies on her lap and takes a long sip, burning her tongue in the process and making her eyes water.
Stone gives her an unimpressed look and accepts a teacup of his own, blowing across the surface of the tea first before gulping a mouthful.
“So,” the principal says, once we all have tea, her eyes darting towards Renzo as he slurps down the lot nosily, “I suggest you start at the beginning. And then I think it best that you tell us what you intend to do next.”
“Next?” I say, my second cookie hovering in front of my lips.
“I assume you’ve come here with a plan or a purpose.” Her gaze skims across our faces. “I don’t know what your intentions are, Miss Blackwaters, Mr. Kennedy.” The principal turns to stare Stone right in the eyes. “It seems I have been kept in the dark about certain things. For starters, how on earth did you come by those dragons?”
“The Black Prince,” I tell her simply.
“The Black Prince?” Mrs. Holyhill says, spilling her tea all over her lap. “He’s alive?”
“He was, and Rhianna’s father,” Azlan says and this time it’s York who chokes on her tea.
“Your father?” Winnie yelps.
“Why on earth did no one tell me?” York asks.
“Because I didn’t know myself up until a few days ago,” Rhi says.
“Does the Lord Protector know?”
“Most probably,” I say.
“And on his way,” Coach says from the door. “Only a matter of time. I’m sure he’s been alerted to your presence.”
York seems unconcerned with this piece of news. “You are … were … his daughter?” she says, seeming as equally unperturbed by this piece of news. “You killed him?”
“He was a drainer. A vampire.” Again York takes this piece of news in her stride, although Coach mumbles a series of expletives.
“I always thought that was just some tale,” he mutters.
“The dark magicals were expelled,” Miss Holyhill says and for once I wish I’d paid more attention in her classes. Maybe we’d have been forewarned about the Black Prince and his inclination for other magicals’ blood.
Rhi’s gaze swivels around us all. “He planned to drain me of my magic – to drain all of us – to use us as his Sources. We fought back.”
“Against an entire coven of vampires?” York says.
“Their Sources joined us – helped us – to fight back. They killed the Black Prince. Not us.”
“I see.”