Hunted

Thirty-Seven: The Price of Inspiration

"All we're looking for is inspiration, James," Ethan breathed, pulling him back from his misgivings. "We will do the rest – trust us".

James watched them both guardedly and sighed. "You have thought this through?" he asked. They both nodded solemnly.

"Challenge his power and make him victimise you. Be the martyr for the cause – inspire them," Iseult said in a steady voice. "You both managed it before when you defended Jun Lin. You need to put yourself on the line for them. Show them your strength".

"Mate, only you can do this," Ethan nodded. "Give the students cause to want something more than this".

James gritted his teeth, his insides clenching anxiously as he regarded the strongest minds on the island, forcing himself to trust in their madness. He nodded, swallowing uneasily, hoping he would invent some clever plan to insight a revolution before the moment passed and their fight ended before it had ever began.

***

James wasn't really sure what he was hoping would happen when he watched Ethan and Iseult enter the Food Hall without him. He knew already, even if they didn't know, that he was going to be acting on instinct once he entered the hall. He half-hoped that his presence alone would send the headmaster into a rage, though he doubted he would be that fortunate. If that failed him, he would just have to improvise, something he doubted Ethan or Iseult would have approved of.

The only thing he was certain about was that the entire student population had to be seated when he staged his entrance, otherwise there would be no point to any of it. He wanted them all to see whatever was about to unfold, hoping it would get the reaction Ethan and Iseult wanted.

He was nervous, but couldn't deny the thrill of excitement than ran along his spine. There was a certain freedom to finally standing up to Elmhirst out in the open. He couldn't supress the grin that lit up his face as the last of the students disappeared into the hall.

The bell sounded, ringing clear and determined across the island. James crossed the deserted yard, clenching and unclenching his jaw in a furious determination. With a heavy sigh, he ran his hands through his blonde hair. "Play the game," he breathed, knowing that he had only one shot at gaining the students' support.

James used his alteration to send the doors to the Food Hall crashing open, the heavy wood clattering against the stone walls with the sheer force of his focused power. The slightest murmur, which had been running through the students gathered inside, died away to nothing as James strode in. He gritted his jaw, very aware that every pair of eyes in the room were set on him.

The room seemed wrong now that the prefect dais and table had been dismantled. The table was covered with a white dustsheet, disregarded and unwanted, against the end wall and the chairs were stacked in the corner. He let out a low whistle as he moved his gaze to the other dais, the platform that placed the staff and Elmhirst above the powerful students, the stage that allowed them to look down upon their pupils.

With forced indifference, James turned his gaze on Elmhirst who had stood up abruptly at the disturbance. James proceeded to move to where his seat should have been, shaking his head in disapproval.

"This will never do," he murmured, flicking his wrist in an outward display of how easy his alteration was to control. He shook his head, glaring back at the Headmaster as a sound like thunder began to roll through the Food Hall.

James' heart was racing, sweat prickling his skin, but he fought to appear indifferent before them all; he fought to appear powerful and fearless, as his alteration set to work.

The room was filled with a deep rumbling sound and the building itself started to quake as a larger, far more permanent dais emerged from the ground, crafted from the rock and clay that lay beneath the foundations of the Food Hall. Large schisms appeared in the flags stones as they were pushed aside with so little effort. Dishes and cutlery clattered as the tables beneath them shuddered violently and the chandeliers above their heads chimed, threatening to plummet down before the groaning ground fell silent.