CHAPTER 29: THE GREAT ESCAPE

As families were ripped to shreds, fevered hope sprouted in the breasts of new believers, turning to the woman hovering over the horizon, unmoving and pale.

“Well.” Bridget frowned, considering the small crystal dish set on the blanket in front of her, right beside the essay that she was ignoring.

  “Yeah.” Tuck bobbed his head, leaning back and looking up through the trees overhead. “It’s been about half an hour now.”

  “Hasn’t melted a damn bit.”

  “Not even a little.”

  “Think it’s the dish?” Bridget picked up the faceted bowl, filled to the brim by a black sphere with a soft, textured surface. The cold seeped through the crystal into her fingers, betraying no hint of sweat or condensation, just as it had when they picked up their rewards from the cantina earlier.

  “Considering they’re the same as the one I used to eat cereal this morning?” Tuck shook his head.

  “Unnatural.”

  “Should we put them out in the sun?”

  Briddy peered towards the wobbly line where the shade of leaves met desert sun and squinted briefly before looking back at the blanket she and Tuck had spread on the ground.

  “We should eat it.” She said, picking up her spoon.

  Needing no further encouragement, Tuck snatched up his own and took a bite, closing his eyes.

  “Well?” Briddy said. “I need to know if it tastes like poison.”

  Tuck popped an eye open, his spoon darting towards her dish in a silver blur as a small divot appeared in the black sphere.

  “Hey!” Bridget swatted at him.

  “You weren’t eating it.” Tuck grinned back. “It’s good though. I think mine is passionfruit. Yours is-”

  Briddy held a hand out, finger extended upwards as she scooped a spoonful of her own. The edges of her tongue went a little numb from the cold, floral, fruity notes exploding across her tongue in stings of sweetness and zest. The creamy smooth treat flowed through her mouth, swallowed and gone before she could fully memorize its flavor. She could see why Niles had made such a huge display of enjoying his at dinner the night before, though the rest of them had decided to wait and leave theirs till after lunch the next day. “Lychee.” She murmured happily.

  Spooning another chunk of the treat into her mouth, Briddy grabbed up the essay on Lamb’s Breath that she had been working on for Instructor Cardenas. It was due by the time she got to Practical Botanica later that day, and she was at the point where she was simply looking for errors among her work. The diminutive instructor may have adored plants with every fiber of her tiny being, but she loathed misspelled words like they were forest fires.

  “Did you finish?” She wiggled the top of her paper at Tuck, who looked up from his half-finished reward.

  “Mostly.” He said, glancing towards the discarded pile of paper he had been scribbling on while they waited.

  Craning her neck down, Briddy looked over his long, tilted writing and studied the short, word for word paragraphs that he had all but copied from the textbook. None of the information was wrong, but nothing was expanded upon or connected. His summary had been left trailing halfway through, and it was short, but Bridget could see it getting a passing grade.

  “Not bad.” She said, leaning back. “Might be worth double-checking the ending though.”

  “What are we ending?” Gail loped her way over and sat down on the blanket between Tuck and Bridget, her dark skin radiating the midday heat through the transparent fabric of her Shroud. “Hey trouble.”

  “Tuck’s essay.” Briddy chewed on her lip, returning to her own as Gail began to pull papers of her own out of her bag. Fading into her work, Bridget looked up after a while when Gail moved in front of her, taking a bite out of her unfinished treat.

  “No!” Tossing her essay aside, Bridget dove for the spoon. “Go get your own!”

  Gail leaned out of her way, swallowing the black lump with a smile. “It’s a long, hot walk to the cantina.”

  “Well if you want it-” Bridget began.

  “Then there’s some here already.” Gail scooped some more, deftly dodging through Briddy’s swipes.

  “My ice.” A small frown quirked Bridget’s mouth down.

  “Coalbet.” Tuck corrected. “I think that’s what it’s called.”

  “Yeah. Sure. Coalbay.” Bridget said, drawing out the word. “Still mine.”

  “Don’t pout.” Gail put the spoon down, shooting her an exasperated grin. “I’ll split mine with you.”

  “Wasn’t pouting!”

  “It was a little bit of a pout.” Tuck said.

  “No- you ate my dessert, stop laughing, you beast!” Briddy scrunched up a piece of paper and threw it at Gail, who had begun to chuckle.

  After a small scuffle and some good natured bickering, the trio returned to their studies with varying degrees of reluctance, chatting about the upcoming rally to watch the guildhunt. Scanning through her essay, Briddy made several more corrections and was in the middle of rewriting a sentence when Tuck said “Oh, there’s Thurston.”

  Looking up from her paper, Bridget spotted the young lord, his footsteps closely shadowed by Abaget’s waifish frame. Muck covered their arms and legs in a layer of filth, doing nothing to hide the looks of disgust that curled at their lips.

  “Enjoying the high life?” Thurston called, beginning to stroke at his sideburns but stopping with a grimace once he brought his hand up and saw the stains covering it. He made as though to wipe them on the pale green fabric of his uniform, but it shifted out of the way like someone pulled at it with an invisible string.

  “How was mucking out the menagerie?” Tuck responded, shooting the pair a sympathetic smile.

  “Come closer and you can find out.”

  “My lord, we should take this chance to bathe before class.” Abaget responded, picking rapidly drying pieces of dung off her arms.

  “You know,” Thurston said, not acknowledging her words. “I expected it to be darker, given that Doctor Nguyen said the menagerie was in the basement, but it’s closer to the surface than you’d think. They’ve got this contraption of mirrors that-”

  “My lord.” Abaget said in a tone of infinite patience. “The showers.”

  Bridget felt Gail nod behind her, long nose scrunched up. Seeing Briddy’s glance, she raised an eyebrow. “What? You can’t smell that?”

  Sniffing the air, Bridget caught the faintest hint of dung, shot through with the sweet scent of rotten meat twisted into some unknown, bitter scent.

  “It’s a good thing she didn’t make me go down there.” Gail muttered. “I would’ve slaughtered half the damn beasts before I cleaned up after them.”

  “They’ve probably got protections against that.” Tuck said mildly. “More than a fair share of people here have grudges against monstrosities.”

  “A lot of parentless kids.” Bridget murmured. For one, horrible moment, she considered what it would be like to lose Ruba and Kerr, be free of their clutches. The thought curdled in her stomach, twisting a bitter taste up her throat. She didn’t mean that, not really. Even though she couldn’t say the same of them.

  Are you sure? Vex whispered.

  Gail leaned back. “Nobody says working for the guilds is a safe job.”

  “Indeed,” Thurston said, and began to say something else, but Abaget hooked her arm through his, pulling him towards the dorm with dispassionate tugs of surprising effectiveness for someone of her build. “Have a good day.” The girl called out over her shoulder, closing the door to Liberty House, in whose shade Tuck and Bridget had sought refuge.

  Bridget caught Tuck looking down with a small frown. “What’s wrong?” She asked quietly, eyebrows knitting.

  He looked up as though surprised and then shook his head. “It’s nothing. Never enough and all that. Speaking of…” He grabbed his spoon and stole another bite of Briddy’s still-frozen treat.

  Bridget glanced back and forth between Liberty House and Tuck, lips pursing in thought.

  “The rest of them should be coming back soon.” Tuck said, striking up conversation again with unnatural vigor. “I wonder if they’ll all be that mucked up.” He accompanied the pun with a wider grin.

  Gail gave a long groan and Bridget chuckled, her eyes catching the way Tuck’s shoulders relaxed once she did. Sweet Tuck, always wanting people to smile.

  There is nothing wrong with finding your peace in others, so long as it is not the sum of your worth. Vex murmured.

  He is worth much more than just jokes and making people laugh. Bridget shot back, feeling protective.

  But does he know that? He stands in shadows that stretch similar to your own.

  Shaking her head against Vex’s arcane insights, Bridget glanced over at Tuck, who was batting Gail’s spoon away from his dish. Letting the mystery of his earlier comment go –for now–, she returned to the sentence she had been rewording. “Asher’ll probably be happy as a clam.” She said.

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  “You think?” Tuck glanced up from his cutlery battle.

  “I saw him on the way over from grabbing our treats.” Bridget said, taking a quick bite of hers and savoring the way the fruity flavor bloomed across our tongue. Swallowing, she added “He looked…” She trailed off, noticing Gail silently working her jaw while she wrote. “...excited.” Briddy slowly finished.

  “Excited?” Tuck laughed.

  “Well he was with Warrin, who looked like he was walking to his own execution, but then there was Asher, talking his ear off and grinning like a madman.”

  “If anyone was excited to be wading in crap, it would be him.” muttered Gail, who threw her spoon down, eyes dark.

  “Is everything ok?” Bridget asked.

  “Fine.”

  “Doesn’t seem that way.”

  “I said I’m fine.” Gail said firmly, her lips drawing to a line.

  Briddy looked over at Tuck, who gave her a helpless shrug. Turning her head back towards Gail, she set her mostly-edited paper aside. “Are you upset with me?” She said, icy fear sparking through her chest while her friend took a long, deep pause before answering.

  “No.”

  “But you are upset?” Tuck prompted, in a way that made Briddy’s eyes flick back and forth between them. Had they talked about this before?

  Instead of answering, Gail grabbed Briddy’s spoon and stabbed it into the mostly consumed Coalbet in front of him, glowering at Tuck as she took a bite.

  “What-?” Bridget began.

  “Yours is better.” Gail informed her, swallowing the mouthful she had just taken.

  “-are you upset about? Don’t avoid the question.” Bridget made to grab her spoon, and Gail held it out of her reach.

  “I just don’t want to talk about Asher right now, all right?”

  Bridget let her arm fall, all thoughts and hope of completing her essay fleeing her mind. “Asher?” Her mouth quirked down. “Why are you mad-”

  “I’m not.” Gail muttered, looking away

  “Is this because I ran off after him during class yesterday? I’m sorry, I wasn’t-”

  “It’s not your fault, Briddy.” Tuck said gently.

  Tilting her angular head back, Gail breathed in and out, closing her eyes against the dappled sun that peaked through the leaves. “Let’s not talk about this.”

  “You have been acting odd ever since the bonfire though.” Bridget said, reaching hand out, fingers hesitating before she placed them on Gail’s shoulder. “Talk to me.”

  Gail’s shoulder didn’t flinch under her touch, nor did the other girl give any recognition that she had heard Briddy at all. After a while, Bridget looked back over at Tuck, who raised his eyebrows and bounced his shoulders up and down once again.

  Going to open her mouth to ask once again, Bridget cut herself off as Gail’s lips did the same, and waited to hear what her friend had to say.

  “It’s annoying.” Gail said, without opening her eyes.

  “Oh.” Briddy began to retract her hand.

  “Not that.”

  “Oh.” She left it there. “So-”

  “The way he is around you. It’s annoying.” Gail lifted her lids, still stubbornly keeping her gaze on the leaves over their heads.

  Bridget felt a creeping heat creep up her neck that had no relation to the midday warmth. “I’m sorry?” She offered, unsure of what else to say. “Is there something I can do?”

  Gail cleared her throat. “No. I know what it looks like when he’s pursuing someone, and I’d just rather it wasn’t you.”

  “I don’t think he’s- I mean, he flirts with everyone, but he’s not pursuing them, he’s just-” Bridget babbled, her words tumbling over each other.

  “Asher’s a good egg though.” said Tuck, who had been watching them silently. “If he was chasing Bridget, would it be so bad?”

  Briddy’s heart picked up as she looked over at Gail, who was still examining the canopy. She wasn’t sure what she wanted the answer to be, but a part of her hoped for…something. Bridget wasn’t sure, and was trying to figure out what that knot of emotion was when Gail’s eyes slid down from the trees, pinning Bridget on the spot with their hazel gaze.

  “Maybe I don’t want to share.” Her husky voice was barely audible, but Bridget heard.

  Confusion, thrill and uncertainty all mixed together into the red pigment that gathered in her cheeks, wiping away thought and reason as she tried to get her emotions under control. What was that supposed to mean? Even worse, what did she hope it meant?

  “I-”

  Underneath them, the ground shuddered like a creature awakening, and a great sound exploded in the distance, pealing through the air in metallic tones as though an enormous bell had been struck.

  “What was that?” Tuck sat straight up, looking around.

  “Maybe they reworked the end of break chimes,” Gail said, eyes darting about. “Do you hear that?”

  “No.” Briddy replied.

  A slow breeze lazily rustled the leaves over their head, carrying the scent of unwashed bodies to her nose, along with something else, metallic and vaguely familiar.

  Bridget was on her feet the second she recognized it as the tang of freshly spilled blood.

  “Something’s wrong.” She said, looking around at the empty, wood-surrounded clearing in front of Liberty House.

  “What do you mean?” Gail straightened up beside her, legs unfolding her to her full height.

  “I don’t know, I-” Bridget cut herself off as Vex’s voice sounded within her.

  Be on your guard, Bridget.

  What-?

  And then the ground began to tremble.

  Bridget looked at Gail, whose eyes had narrowed, and Tuck, whose gaze was slammed wide.

  The ground began to shake harder, movement cresting into a frantic, rhythmic shudder.

  Leaving their bags behind, the trio sprinted for the white stone path that led through the woods and towards the main walkways of campus.

  Between the sound of pounding shoes on the shaking stone and quickly stolen breaths of quiet worry, it took Briddy a moment to notice the chorus of beating wings overhead, growing ever louder like the applause of a crowd. She didn’t even attempt to look through the foliage over their heads, the spotless shade that lined her way more than told her that the view was obscured.

  Gail’s wide stride easily carried her ahead of Tuck and Bridget, so when she reached the tree line and came to a sudden, dead stop and flung her arm out, Briddy nearly clotheslined herself on it.

  “Gah.” Bridget choked as Tuck slid to a stop behind them. “Why did you-?”

  A streak of grey and green ran past them down one of the campus walkways, feet running at a quick pace with wet, slapping steps. Then another, tendrils of wet seaweed flapping behind its tail, joined by another with the smell of wet, mossy dark radiating from its fur.

  “What are Kelpines doing loose in the school?” Tuck breathed.

  One of their heads snapped up suddenly, causing the group to tense.

  Briddy held her breath, watching the pointed snout move. She jumped a little when it suddenly howled, and leaped upwards at something they couldn’t see. The Kelpines darted off, and before Bridget knew it she was following them, Vex’s silent name gracing her lips.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Gail snapped, hooking an arm around Bridget’s waist and dragging her back.

  “The dorms are that way. Our dorms!”

  A familiar screech, shuddering and long, rent through the air, echoed across the sky in different tones. Ducking their head out from the trees, the group took in the scene before them in broad, hectic glances.

  Carrion serpents filled the sky, blotting out the sun as they swooped and snapping at green uniformed students, who ducked for cover with their bags over their heads. Kelpines streaked toward the dorms, snapping at any of the winged beasts who fluttered too low to the ground, puddles of water trailing their path. Another long, loud peal rang out, and Bridget’s head snapped around in time to see an enormous shape run into the metallic dome of the central teleportation hall, showering the ground around it with plaster and stone.

  As the creature raised its head, Bridget noted the telltale hand-shaped horns of a DireMoose, each finger covered in jagged thorns of bone. A group of older students was already gathered around it, Shrouds of black and purple shifting in the afternoon light as their owners threw ropes, nets and spells up at the huge creature, who let out another trumpeting bellow of frustration.

  “Enjoying the scenery, are we?” A voice snarled behind them.

  Jumping in her skin, Briddy turned to see Hennigan right before he pushed through them, the overlarge half-moon of his axe glinting wickedly.

  She caught him eyeing the golden sword in her hand as he passed by.

  “With me, greencoats.” He ordered. “Wards will be going up any second now.” He walked directly across the spot the Kelpines had occupied moments before, crossing to the other side. Bridget and the others followed, Gail’s armored fists sliding into place with each lengthy stride she took.

  “I’m ready to crush some heads.” Gail said eagerly.

  “There will be no crushing unless your life is in danger.” Hennigan said crisply. “Our goal is to capture, not kill.”

  Gail opened her mouth to reply when a dull buzzing roared up from the path behind them, echoed across all of the walkways that dissected the campus like spokes on a wagon’s wheel. Buttery yellow walls of light shimmered up from their flat stones, solidifying into translucent existence within mere seconds. Bridget looked at the wall behind them, at the yellow layer of light locking in the last of the sky overhead, and then at her friends.

  “What is going on?” She said, looking over at the one person who seemed to have a plan.

  Hennigan didn’t turn around as he continued heading towards the tall spire of Doctor Maistwel’s tower.

  “Did the outer wards fail?” Tuck added as they hurried after him. “Is that why the quarantine wards are up?”

  Hennigan kept walking until he reached the base of the Insular Tower, where he came to a prompt halt. Pointing the blade of his axe toward the long, ovular shadow cast on the ground, he growled “Tell me what you see, Vasily.”

  Squinting into the darkness, Briddy spotted several shapes huddled near the flat, rectangular stones at the base of the tower. She took in bristled fur, glinting tusks watched over by eyes of yellow and orange, and vaguely, the description of a creature from the Two Hundred and Twenty lept into her mind.

  Looking closer, she studied the biggest one, which nearly matched Hennigan’s six-foot height. The creature ignoring them as it upturned, snuffling snout, mirrored by four little ones, dug around in the dirt with snorted oinks.

  “MarrowBoars?” Her brow creased. “But they’re not native to this…” Her face relaxed in grim understanding as a memory of the filthy Thurston and Abaget flickered through her mind.

  “The Menagerie.” Gail said flatly. “The one you people insist is a good idea-”

  “I do not have time to listen to your opinions on our curriculum, Miss Kirvar.” Hennigan snapped. “You are here to do what your peers are already accomplishing without giving lip.” He looked between each of them “Obeying the only orders that matters to you while you are at this school.”

  “The teachers?” Tuck offered.

  “Headmistress Terna’s?” Bridgets cocked her head to the side.

  “Mine.” Hennigan ran towards the cluster of creatures, axe swinging as he called: “Corral the young, I will take care of the mother.”

  Scattering, the three of them did their best to respond, waylaid part of the way through their efforts by a flock of GutsGeese some upperclassmen drove the wrong way. Bridget dove and captured her boar only to have the wretched creature wiggle away again. Looking to the side, she saw that Tuck and Gail were having similar success, with the latter threatening to make the fleeing creature her breakfast. Picking herself up, Bridget raced after the Marrowboar, swinging Vex to ward of the sharp, cruel beaks that dove at her head, her essay left unedited and forgotten in an afternoon spent in a flurry of wiry bristles, sqauwks, feathers, and hooves.