Bridges Burned (Entangled Teen) (Going Down in Flames) (15 page)

“That sounds nice.”

“What does your family do?”

“Normally, my parents and I string popcorn to decorate the tree, bake cookies, and play board games. This year, I’m trying to make nice with my grandmother, so I’m going to her house.”

Valmont cringed. “Sorry to hear that.”

She laughed. “It’s funny. If you’d asked me six months ago if I wanted to wear a gown and attend a Christmas Eve ball, I would’ve jumped at the chance. Now all I want to do is go home.”

“You could come play ping-pong with us. I guarantee the food and the company will be better.”

In her mind she could see herself laughing and eating dinner with Valmont’s family. “Wish I could. But if I want to have any sort of relationship with my grandparents, I must go to the ball.” She shook her head. “My life is the weirdest fairy tale ever.”

Crash
. Glass rained down on them. Bryn jumped back, knocking her chair over as a baseball-sized piece of hail smacked into the table.

“What the hell?” She met Valmont’s gaze. They both glanced up.

Crash. Crash. Crash
. Glass flew as hail smashed through the windows. Valmont lunged for her, and together, they ran for the stairs. Once they were on the landing, he slammed the door to the greenhouse room. The crashing sound was muffled, but the pounding on the roof grew louder. People in the restaurant screamed. Valmont and Bryn ran down the stairs.

Valmont’s grandfather was shouting in Italian, and waving his hands directing customers who’d been in the dining room to cram into the kitchen. The back door had been shut, and wooden shutters had been closed in front of the windows.

Bryn ran to look in the dining room. Two girls huddled under a table, crying. They couldn’t have been more than six years old. Where was their mom? Hail flew in through the gaping hole where the window used to be and smacked down on the table, splintering the wood.

“Valmont, I’m going to blow fire at that window to keep the hail away while you grab those girls. All right?”

“Give me a minute.” He ran back into the kitchen and came out with a pot on his head. He placed one on her head and held a smaller pot in each hand.

“Good thinking,” she said. “Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

She took a deep breath and thought of the idiots who were playing with peoples’ lives. Fire roared in her gut and up her throat. She inhaled and then blasted a stream of fire over the table at the window, slowly walking toward it. As the hailstones hit her flames, they hissed and melted into steam. Valmont, keeping low to the ground, ran to the girls and put the makeshift helmets on their heads. With one girl under each arm, he ran back to the kitchen.

Once they were safe, Bryn moved toward the window.

“Bryn, what are you doing?”

Answering him would mean stopping her flames. The anger fueling her pyrotechnics raged inside her. She kept going until she reached the window and checked the street. Crouched against walls and in doorways, dragons of every color used their breath weapons to keep the hail at bay. None of them appeared to need her help, so she stayed where she was.

The hail banging on the rooftops was deafening. Then, as if someone threw a switch, the hail stopped. Ears ringing, Bryn turned to find Valmont behind her wearing a soup pot on his head. The pissed-off expression he wore, combined with his odd headgear, made her laugh.

“What’s so funny?” The pot shifted so it covered his eyes. “Oh.” He pulled the pot off and took hers off, too. “I suppose that did look ridiculous.”

“But it was smart.” She pointed back toward the kitchen. “Are the girls okay?”

A solemn look crossed his face. “Their mom told them not to leave the table while she ran down the street to buy something. Unfortunately, they listened too well.”

“Do you think their mom is okay?”

“I hope so.” People started filtering out of the kitchen, picking up their belongings and righting the tables and chairs. “I better get a broom.”

“Wait.” Bryn pointed to a group of Green dragons. “You three. Use your wind to push all the debris into a pile.”

The girl in the group opened her mouth, but Bryn cut her off. “Do it now.”

One of the Green males cleared his throat. “If everyone would go back in the kitchen for a moment, we’ll clean this up.”

Bryn and Valmont returned to the kitchen as well, but stood in the doorway to supervise. The Greens directed wind from their hands to push all the debris into the back corner. In five minutes, they’d cleared the floor.

“Thank you.” Valmont nodded to the Greens. “Much appreciated.” He pointed at the waist-high pile of glass and splintered wood. “I’m going to need a bigger dustpan.”

The rest of the patrons cleared out.

“I’ll drive you back to school,” Valmont said. “I’m sure they’ll be checking to make sure all the students are safe.”

“Please tell me your car is safe in a garage.” The idea of his cherry-red convertible banged to pieces made her ill.

“It is, but I’ll drive my dad’s truck, in case the hail comes again.”

“Maybe you should keep some soup pots in the trunk of your car for emergencies.”

…

After Valmont dropped her off, she signed in at the back gate and headed to her dorm, intent on finding Clint and Ivy. They were waiting for her in the first-floor lounge. Ivy zoomed across the room to hug her.

“From now on, we’re all going places together.” Ivy’s voice shook.

Bryn hugged her friend back. “I was inside at Fonzoli’s. I’m okay.” She stepped back from Ivy. “Where were you guys?”

Ivy blushed. “We were studying.”

Right.
“Did anyone get hurt?”

“You didn’t hear?” Clint asked.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up. “Hear what?”

“The hail came on so fast…students who were flying got beaten up pretty bad. Garrett…the hailstones…” Clint cleared his throat and looked away. “He’s lost the use of his right wing.”

“No.” Bryn didn’t feel her legs give out, but the next thing she knew, she was sitting on the floor. This could not be happening. “In Dragon’s Bluff, it wasn’t so bad. Windows were smashed, but everyone found shelter.”

“Everyone to your rooms, please.” A guard bellowed from the front door. Dark circles ringed his eyes, like he was recovering from a broken nose. “If any of your friends are missing let the staff or one of us know.”

Bryn rushed over to him. “Can I help the medics?”

Pain shone from the man’s eyes. “It is my understanding that those who are still injured are beyond help.”

Tears flooded her eyes. What would happen to Garrett and anyone else who was permanently injured? Before she could ask, the guard turned and left.

Bryn, Ivy, and Clint all stayed in her room together that night. The next morning, classes were canceled and the dining hall was closed. Students were to stay in their dorms and eat at the first-floor caf
é
s.

An air of disbelief and misery seemed to float through the first-floor lounge where Bryn, Clint, and Ivy sat picking at their breakfast of submarine sandwiches.

“Okay. In the big scheme of things, I know this is petty, but I miss eggs and bacon.” Clint picked the onions off his sandwich.

“Thank God they have coffee.” Bryn sipped her second cup. She could eat anything for breakfast as long as caffeine was part of the deal.

“We’ve had wind, ice, and earthquakes. Does that mean fire or lightning is next?” Ivy asked.

Fire was self-explanatory. “What form will lightning take? A giant storm, or bolts of electricity zapping everything?”

“If you were still privileged enough to be enrolled in history class, you’d know that Black dragons used storms to cover their attacks. It’s a two-for-one whammy. Drench everything with water and then light it up.”

“So it’s electrocution or fire. Great.” Bryn finished off her bag of chips. None of this made sense. “Have the Clans ever worked together before to attack the Directorate?”

“That’s the weird thing,” Clint said, “or one of the weirdest of all the weird things going on right now. The Clans have always played their separate roles.”

“Not true,” Ivy said. “The Clans fought among themselves and against each other when they were trying to keep territories, before the Accords were drawn up. Each Clan settled in a specific territory and sent a representative to marry into another Clan.”

“This sounds vaguely familiar.” Bryn rolled her eyes. She’d been kicked out of history class over this topic. The teacher had claimed that crossbreeding couldn’t produce a functional shape-shifting dragon, even though Bryn had been sitting right in front of her.
Wait a minute.
She scooted closer to her friends so she wouldn’t be overheard. “I heard a folk tale that those dragons who married into other Clans had children with unusual powers and that one of them, Wraith Nightshade, tried to take over everything and make himself king. In the end, he was killed, and that’s when the Directorate was formed to make sure nothing like that happened again.”

“And if that’s true, if any of those hybrid kids survived and married, they’d produce more hybrids.” Clint glanced around. “We probably shouldn’t be talking about this out here.”

“Okay, no more hybrid talk.” Bryn leaned back in her seat. “Why are these attacks happening? Why are they hurting students? We have no power. If someone is pissed off at the people in control, why aren’t they going after them?”

Ivy shoved her sandwich away. “My best guess is they want to scare our parents, so they’ll demand the Directorate do something. And if the Directorate fails, our parents, or some of them at least, will rebel.”

Doubtful. Most of the dragons seemed to bow down to the Directorate pretty readily. Even Zavien, who was supposed to be the leader of the student Revisionists, was just an errand boy who delivered petitions to the Directorate. And that’s when it hit her. She hadn’t thought to ask about Zavien since she’d gotten back. Was that bad or good?

“What do you think the Directorate’s next move will be?” Bryn asked.

“I imagine they’ll find a way for us to go back to classes tomorrow,” Clint said, “but I doubt we’ll be able to go to Dragon’s Bluff for a while, or go flying.”

“I wonder if they’ll still let us go home for Christmas next week,” Ivy said. “I mean, they have to, right?”

“Of course.” Clint put his arm around Ivy’s shoulders. “Do you think the Directorate wants to deal with a bunch of surly teenagers griping about missing Christmas?”

“They’re attacking the school because we’re like sitting ducks here. We’re probably safer spread out in different cities,” Bryn said.

Clint and Ivy gave her the “you don’t have a clue” look, which she hadn’t seen in a while and hadn’t missed. “What? You all live in some color-coded apartment complex?”

“No.” Ivy leaned into Clint. “The Blues stick to their estates, which are scattered in the forest surrounding the institute. Clint and I live in a town about twenty minutes from here called Lakeview Hills.”

“Because there are hills that overlook a lake?” Bryn asked.

“Yes. It’s a bunch of three-bedroom houses and parks. The business district is one town over in Emberville. A lot of dragons live in apartments or condos close to where they work. There are a few small villages mixed in throughout the forest. I mean really small, like just a mom-and-pop store and a gas station with one blinking stoplight.”

“So dragons mostly populate small areas and keep to themselves.” Speaking of people keeping to themselves, Bryn needed to email her parents and break the news about Christmas Eve.

“What’s wrong?” Ivy asked.

“I have to tell my parents I won’t be home for Christmas Eve. It’s always been just the three of us.” The depth of her parents’ isolation finally became clear to her. “I never thought about it before. How lonely they must be.”

“Do they seem lonely?” Clint asked. “Because the way you described them, they seemed happy.”

“I thought they were. Now I realize they’ve never had any close friends.”

“Given a choice of marrying Ferrin or keeping to yourself, which would you choose?” Ivy asked.

“Good point.” Maybe she was projecting her own feelings on her parents. They’d never seemed unhappy when she was growing up. “I think I’ll call them tonight to tell them about Christmas.”

Later that night in her room, she made the call. No one answered, so she left a message and decided to email them. She explained that she’d come home on the twenty-second, fly back to her grandparents’ estate for the Christmas Eve ball, and then come home later that night so she’d be there to open presents Christmas morning. After sending the email, she waited for a reply. None came. They were probably out Christmas shopping.

That brought a puzzle to mind. How could she shop if she wasn’t allowed to leave campus? If she had a credit card, she could shop online. She crossed her fingers for luck and pulled out her Dragon’s Bluff credit card. Sure enough, there was a Web address, which allowed her to shop online at several stores. First she needed to check her balance. Her parents didn’t have that much to give her. Before she tried to order Christmas presents, she should check her limit.

After typing in her information, she gaped at the screen. The number for her account had far too many zeros at the end. She checked her account’s history and saw the modest balance she’d begun with. The extreme jump in her funds had come after her grandparents had recognized her.
Huh… That was weird.
It was nice that they were willing to help out with her expenses, but why hadn’t they mentioned it?

She’d ask her grandmother about it later. Right now, she’d shop. First, she ordered a giant tin of caramel corn from Snacks Galore and several frozen pizzas from Fonzoli’s to be shipped to her parents.

Now, what to get Clint and Ivy? An art set would work for Ivy. For Clint, she bought a T-shirt that looked like a tuxedo jacket and shirt when you put it on. Since he’d made such a big deal out of hating to wear a tuxedo to the dance, maybe he’d find it funny. Guys were hard to buy for. That left Valmont and her grandparents to shop for. For Valmont, she found a rug that would match the pillows his sister gave him as a housewarming gift for his cabin. For her grandparents…she had no clue. What did you buy people who had two ballrooms?