The Academy

Chapter 5: KIKI

Hey. So, uh, I've begun to swear a lot more in my writings - please don't take it personally. Sometimes, friends, profanity is the one way to truly express how pissed a person is. Well, maybe it isn't, but sometimes, it sure as hell works (ha, proof).

That said, you're all gonna hate me for chapter 5, which contains many important plot things. Like, you're gonna hate me. Because there is character death. I killed one of my favorite characters in this chapter... and then I started pushing two other characters together, which is weird because it was entirely unplanned until I reread what I wrote...

Oh, and while I'm at it - everything in this story belongs to me! Please don't copy without asking me first!

I knocked on Committee's door, impatience twisting my features into a scowl. Something about the Swiftwing irked me. It wasn't that he could actually retaliate to my remarks - that in itself was something he should take pride in - or that he had been, frankly, a bit annoying.

Just... something. Something was off about him. And I couldn't figure out what it was...

There was an answering knock, so I deactivated my poison locks and pushed into the small room, still feeling irritated. It hadn't been fair of me to take it out on Siamese, I realized now. In fact, knowing him, he'd probably been a little more civil with the hawk Reydru and become his friend. Which boded ill, because Siamese, no matter how hard he tried to hide it from me, took much enjoyment in manipulating people without using his telepathic powers.

Ninell is going to have to watch his back, I thought to myself as I activated my poison locks behind me.

"Dreina." Quinton, tome open and sitting wearily back down on the floor; he had probably been the one who'd knocked on the door in response to mine. "Why are you here right now?"

I breathed out slowly, eyes warily scanning the room. Allie was conked out on her makeshift mattress, Penelope was regarding me with innocent, amber eyes, and Quinton was glaring at me like I'd disturbed his afternoon nap. Not that the guy took naps, but I had seen the look often at my cousins at home.

"Nothing," I said, a little too quickly. Quinton's expression told me that he'd press if that was all I gave him, so I continued, "Just - nothing happened, but I wanted to make sure nothing's here."

"Right, and I have two tails," Penelope spoke up from where she was curled up in a chair, her tone remarkably sarcastic. "What's going on?"

"I - I really think it's nothing." I hope Ninell will forgive me if I'm wrong.

"Your intuition, so far, has been spot-on," Quinton said icily, effortlessly tying an insult into a compliment. I made a mental note to ask him how he did so later. "Who?"

Unnerved by Quinton's immediate deduction that it was someone, not something, that was bothering me, I blurted, "Ninell Swiftwing."

There was a silence; then Penelope said incredulously, "A Swiftwing? A hawk? What is someone like that doing here?"

Quinton's eyes had narrowed in thought, and he stared at the ceiling as he absently untied and retied his ponytail. "A Swiftwing... and you say his name is Ninell?"

I crossed my arms. "Yes."

There was a pause; then his brown eyes flicked down to me and he repeated, "Ninell." After a few moments more, he said, "The name is familiar. What does he look like?"

I described the hawk - tall, buff, intelligent - and with each passing sentence, I could see Quinton becoming more and more certain. As soon as I mentioned Ninell's wingspan, after describing the colors of his feathers, the brunet stood up and began to pace, fingering his chin. I waited for him to speak his thoughts.