"You realise you're expected to pass the exams to qualify," Braith flicked a blonde curl off her neck.
Rhian narrowed her eyes. "I know that." It was Monday morning and the deadline to apply for the scholarship loomed. Of all the people who could be waiting in the financial services office, why did it have to be Braith?
Braith snorted. "You're type are all alike. You think just because you have an ability, you can skate by."
"It's not like that."
"No?" Braith lifted her brow. "Beth ydy e fel? Ydych chi'n gallu deall mi?"
"Whatever." Rhian sat in one of the dozen plush green chairs. Braith never missed an opportunity to show off. Not only was she fluent, but she was among the top of the class. Rhian slumped. What chance did she really have to be selected for the scholarship, her grades were far from stellar and unless she could master pronouncing her ignition words by tomorrow she was certain to flunk her composition exam.
Emmanuel entered the office, wide eyed and slack jawed. "Rhian..."
She stood. "What's wrong?"
"It—" He looked at his hands. "Its Afia, she's gone."
Fear tickled down Rhian's neck. "What do you mean gone?"
He shook his head.
It couldn't be. Rhian shoved the scholarship form into her bag. "How do you know? Did you tell the office?"
"Katie told me, she's in the nurse's office, she is an absolute wreck. Ms. Landeg is contacting her parents for her. She's going home."
"I don't blame her." Rhian muttered. First Katie's best-friend and now her roommate, Rhian made a mental note to have Gretchen make wards for their room. "But Katie's been off since Julia, maybe she's jumping to conclusions, Afia may have stayed out in town." The possibility sounded weaker aloud than it did in her head.
"I hope so." Emmanuel stared down at his empty hands. "No one's seen Afia since Sunday morning."
"Malu cachu," Braith muttered. "I saw Afia last night."
"You did?" Emmanuel's eyes lit up. "Where?"
"She was having a row with Gareth outside the gym."
Gareth, doesn't that figure. Rhian's palms grew hot, she clenched them in a fist. "If he hurt Afia--"
"Hurt?" Braith shot Rhian the same look she gave when Rhian'd butchered her ignition words in composition class. "I doubt that, aren't they dating or whatever? Sounded like a lovers spat is all."
"Lovers? You're mental."
"I'm only saying." Braith swatted her hair. "They're your mates, you'd know better than me."
"Gareth is not my mate." Rhain simmered as she felt Emmanuel's hand rest on her shoulders.
"Can you tell us where Afia went after?" Emmanuel's calmness made Rhian feel remiss for letting Braith rile her.
YOU ARE READING
A barely literate pyromancer struggles to avoid expulsion from the prestigious Crymych School of Druidic Sorcery; but when a murderer begins hunting her more talented classmates, exams become the least of her worries. (Especially when her friends ar...