Emberlight

20. Blood of Another

Kelsey

Kelsey glanced around the empty classroom with unease, no longer expecting the door to swing open. Martel was late for her first lesson, and he didn't seem like the late type.

It's because you still can't create Perls, duh. You're not worth teaching magic, not like Feya.

"Screw this," she hissed over her toxic thoughts. She resisted the urge to pour one of his whiskey bottles down the sink and fled the room, an angry mist around her head and a lung full of complaints. She needed Feya before they exploded out of her.

The moment Kelsey spotted her friend at the far side of the bunker, the walls glowed. The sigil comprising of three straight lines burned across the walls. A moment later, a deep booming voice filled Kelsey's head as if it were a cavern.

"Dining hall, now. The lot of you."

The gruff demand came from none other than Martel Simmons. By the way Feya clamped her hands over her ears and stumbled into the wall opposite, Kelsey knew the dozy girl had heard it too.

The sigils died down.

"Don't you love magic?" Kelsey said.

"Huh?" Feya removed her hands. "Oh, you heard him too?"

"I think 'the lot of you' means all of us, Fey."

"Right."

A steady stream of Embers moped towards the dining hall like lost souls heading to Hades underworld. Kelsey and Feya joined the end of the line. The dining hall was already packed before they reached the entrance.

Holding onto the doorframe, Kelsey stretched onto her tiptoes to peer over the crowd. A patch of tall Embers blocked her view, but she could see what she wanted. Martel sat at the head of the room, his sidekick 'whiskey' nowhere to be seen. His wide nostrils were flared, and his dark eyes were distant.

"He's been here a long time," Odin murmured from the doorway. The hawk held his jaw rigid and kept his focus straight over the crowd towards Martel. Before Feya could answer, he whispered without looking at her, "I recommend this doorway. It's a great place to stand, if you know what I mean."

"Do you know something?" Kelsey asked.

Odin shook his head and lowered his voice. "That's what scares me."

Kelsey held a poker face, but Feya blanched.

"Stay nearby," he added.

"What's going on?" Feya asked. "Are we under attack?"

He shook his head, and gestured for them to watch.

Martel leaned over the head of the table and drummed his fingers against the wooden surface. Usually Martel held himself still and only moved in rigid sequences as if his bones were made of rock, but something made him restless.

"Excuse me," Oliana said, manoeuvring through the doorway and into the crowd. As their leader made her way through the throng, the Embers parted for her as if repelled by an invisible force. "What is this in aid of?" Oliana demanded loud enough for all to hear.

"You should sit," Martel said, and he pulled out the chair beside him. "I've gathered the Embers."

"I can see that, Mr Simmons."

"Ha. Are we no longer on a first name basis, Miss Thorne?" Martel mused. "We have drifted apart, haven't we? Or are you distancing yourself, I wonder?" He straightened out with a heavy sigh. His dark skin camouflaged his tiredness, but it couldn't hide the bags under his eyes.