Page 44 of Storm of Shadows
I hit the boy again, this time right against his cheekbone. Tomorrow he’ll have a shiner blacker than the depths of night and everyone will know who gave it to him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Briony
I don’t sleep nearly as well as the previous night. There are too many thoughts spinning around my head and even lying in an actual bed with a mattress and covers isn’t enough to lull me into sleep. Which means, despite no longer having an injured ankle (or ribs – it seems Beaufort may have inadvertently healed those too), I am not in the best shape for our first lesson the next morning. More torture with the gruesome twosome. At least this time, that torture consists of running. Something I am not so bad at. In fact, I’m pretty fast. I’m just not sure I’ll be that fast today after a night of no sleep.
We assemble on the field in our dull gray tracksuits, the shadow weavers in their shiny black ones, the cold morning mist swirling out in front of us and listen as the more talkative of the twins explains the route our run is to take and informs us that the girls will be running first.
I glance towards Fly, giving him a little pout of disappointment – running along with Fly would have made this morning a million times better – then flinch when I catch sightof the brunette who tried to kill me. I haven’t seen her since, but today it’s impossible to miss her. Around her neck sits a golden collar – just like the one that boy was wearing yesterday. She’s smiling smugly, a crowd of admirers forming around her.
For a minute I think … but then I glance towards the shadow weavers and find the Princes all glaring at me. I jolt and avert my eyes.
Okay, so the situation hasn’t changed. Someone else has obviously claimed that girl as their thrall.
“Look,” I whisper to Fly, nudging him in the ribs, “that’s the girl who pushed me off the net. Hopefully that means she’ll no longer have murderous intentions towards me.”
“Hmmm,” Fly says, peering her way. “That’s Odessa Gunvald. She’s from my Quarter and she’s a giant bitch with constant murderous intentions. I’d watch your back when she’s around.”
“Great,” I mutter, then along with the other girls, shuffle towards the start line.
The other twin lifts his arm, then trumpets on his whistle, and we’re racing away.
It’s hard to know what tactics to employ – especially when my brain is too tired. Do I set off fast – lose the others and run this race in peace but risk running out of puff pretty quick? Or do I slump along at the back and risk being trampled by the crowd?
In the end, I decide to run my own race at my own pace which means I’m racing away from the other girls from Slate and Granite Quarters but am hot on the heels of those from Iron. The shadow weaver girls shoot ahead, soon out of sight entirely. It’s not long before the academy is out of sight too as we jog down a slope, across rough ground and out towards the woods we’d trudged through the night we arrived.
The field is so spread out now, I can no longer see the girls behind me and lose those in front as they squeeze through a gapin the fence and duck under the trees. I follow them, the ground soon a carpet of dead leaves, fallen branches and snapped-off twigs. I run through the debris, ravens cawing above me, five minutes into the depths of the wood when I find my way blocked by five girls.
At first, I assume something has happened – someone is injured or hurt. Then I conclude they must be taking a break – perhaps choosing to bunk off the lesson.
Then I realize, no, they’re waiting for me.
I slow up warily, coming to a halt a few feet away from them. In a flash, they’re forming a circle around me, hemming me in. I try to calm my breathing, resting my hands on my hips and adopting my blank expression.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Slate scum?” the girl immediately in front of me says. Like the others she’s athletically built and she’s tied her black braids away from her face. “Are you trying to beat us?”
The girl beside her, a little taller, thighs strong and thick and about twice the width of mine, tosses her head. “Do you think by running fast they’re going to let a little shit like you into our Quarter?”
The other girls laugh.
I don’t say anything. I learned long ago that it only antagonizes them – makes the beating twice as hard. Because I’m pretty sure that’s what’s coming. Like everyone else in my life, they want to teach me a lesson.
Yeah, just when I’m injury free, it looks like I’m about to get a host of new ones.
“What?” the first girl says. “Cat got your tongue? Or are you dumb as well as stupid?”
She smiles at me and a weight hits me violently from behind. I try my best to keep my footing, but I stumble down onto my knees and the girl from behind me takes a fistful of my hair. Sheshakes me as the first girl aims a kick at my recently mended ribs.
I struggle against the hand gripping my head and try my best to climb back onto my feet, but another kick – this time to my stomach – has me doubling over and gasping for air.
“Stay away from us. Keep to your own kind. Do you understand?” the taller girl hisses.
I close my eyes, flinching in anticipation of the next strike, but then a noise cuts through the trees.
A loud bark, followed by the thundering of paws hitting hard ground.
I open my eyes, I can’t twist my head around because the girl still has a grip of my hair, but I can see the girls in front of me are peering over my head and off into the distance.
