Fireborn

18 ¦ Horrors of Halden

After the other students had followed Professor Petrescu to the portal, Peter pulled me aside. My face flushed crimson when his receptors met mine, sending a stinging shot of energy through both of us.

"Listen to me very carefully," he said in a solemn tone. "I know that we've had a little fight, but we have to put that aside during the battle. I want you to stay beside me at all times and follow my orders."

"I have to do what the Professor asks," I insisted.

"Petrescu has made me her second-in-command." His eyes flashed like metallic steel in the blistering sun. "And she agreed you should stay with me."

"May I ask why?"

"You may ask," he replied in a harsh tone, "but you already know the answer. And now is not the time to discuss what we both know."

He can morph into a more powerful creature to keep me safe.

"What about the others?" I asked.

"Blunt truth?"

I nodded.

"I don't give a shit about them," he said. "They're mere pawns."

"The Rogue shows his true colors." I narrowed my eyes at Peter. "What makes me more important than them?"

"In battle, you quickly learn who matters and who doesn't."

"Are you sure that your personal feelings aren't getting in the way?"

He sucked a breath through his teeth and gave me a gentle nudge towards the door. "It's a simple equation. Don't get any stupid ideas and play the hero. Stay with me."

"Yes, sir!" I said, my voice laced with sarcasm.

Peter grasped my arm in his tight grip, his eyes like daggers. "I'm serious, Liselle. This is not the time to prove your independence. You're not a combatant, and they have fucking dragons."

"Fine, I get it."

"No, you don't," he said in a firm tone. "Whatever you might have heard, never underestimate the ferocity of a dragon. Trust me, I know better than you think."

"All right," I said, ripping my arm from his grasp.

"Dragons are impulsive and ferocious creatures controlled by whoever holds the reins. If the controller is evil, a dragon is the deadliest creature you will ever face. Have I made myself clear?"

I nodded.

"Good," he said, "as long as we understand each other."

"Peter?"

"What?"

I raised myself on my tiptoes, and he lowered his head. "What about the Fireborn?" I whispered in his ear. "Can't they help us?"

Peter pursed his lips and squeezed his eyes shut. "Many of them aren't fully formed yet, and it makes no sense to throw only a hundred onto the field. When we attack, we want a damned battalion."

"Not fully formed!" I exclaimed. "After two months?"

"The process is laborious and painful, and they require several weeks of physical training," he admitted. "Half of the candidates have not even survived the initial transformation."

"My gods!"

"If the Ministry had allowed us to launch a pre-emptive strike, the handful of Fireborn might have helped." He checked the sundial on the wall. "No more time for twenty questions. Let's go."

As we hurried through the halls, a few stragglers fled towards us, their clothes and skin scorched. One of the male Wizards running towards me grabbed me by my Healer robes.