“Busy guy,” Clem said.
I nodded and tried to push the anger aspects out of my aura. Abi had every right to be suspicious of me after what had happened in Singapore. He wasn’t the only one who watched me with wary eyes since that day.
I just wished he’d be more open with me. His secretive stares and cryptic comments were already getting on my nerves, and the first day of school wasn’t even over yet.
The Cottage
THE SHADOW PHOENIX dormitory tower surprised me in a lot of ways. I’d expected the same sort of gloomy, dark wood walls and floors that had dominated the new initiates’ quarters. Instead, the main hallway was lit by bars of ivory light shining from the ceiling. The walls were a pale cream color, covered in a faint pattern that reminded me of both scales and feathers. As Clem and I walked down the hall, the pattern took on a rainbow sheen of blues, greens, purples, and reds.
“This is different,” Clem said. “I don’t see your name on any of these doors, though.”
She was right. Each door had its occupant’s name emblazoned across it in letters that glowed with the same hypnotic hues as the wall. We were three-quarters of the way down the hall, and I hadn’t seen my name yet.
“Maybe they kicked me out,” I teased.
“That’s not very funny.” Clem frowned.
“It is, now,” I said with a grin. “It wouldn’t look very good for the school to kick out its champion after a record-breaking winning streak, would it?”
“They could still try,” Clem said, her voice low and urgent. “Winning a bunch of fights isn’t the same as winning people over. You think Grayson Bishop’s friends are willing to let bygones be bygones after what you did?”
That question had haunted me throughout the Five Dragons Challenge. Every city we stopped at was another opportunity for an enemy I didn’t even know to take a shot at me. And yet, no one had.
Maybe security had been tight enough to scare off would-be assassins or anti-Flame thugs.
Or, maybe they were biding their time until my guard was down.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Clem. “You’re right. I should keep my mouth shut about stuff like that. There’s probably a line of people waiting to knock me down a few pegs.”
“Hey,” Clem said, suddenly excited. “There’s your name.”
The only doors that remained were a pair of ornate ivory slabs at the very end of the hallway, their surfaces engraved with an elaborate scene of a fiery bird engaged in mortal combat with a serpent of some sort. There was a nameplate to the right of the doorway, and Clem was right.
I couldn’t believe it, but this was my room.
I traced each letter of my name, one at a time, and the illusory fire changed color as my finger moved through it. A wellspring of emotions bubbled up in my chest, and I bit the inside of my lip to hold it back. This wasn’t the time to go to pieces over seeing my name in lights. Clem wouldn’t understand how much it meant to me to have proof that I was worthy to be at the school. I’d look like a blubbering fool.
“Let’s see what’s inside,” I said.
The doors opened at my touch, sliding back into the walls on either side in utter silence. I’d expected a room like Clem’s or Eric’s.
Instead, I saw no room at all.
The double doors had opened to reveal a shaded walkway that wound its way between serpentine rows of tall, slender trees. Curious creatures somewhere between a squirrel and a fox perched on branches, their enormous amber eyes fixed on Clem and me. The air that gusted out of the unexpected forest was clean and clear, a faint, crisp chill on its breath.
“This day is just full of surprises,” Clem said. “Ready for a walk?”
“I guess,” I said. “I didn’t expect a portal here.”
I stepped onto the walkway first, unsure if there were any defenses that might bother Clem if she tried to go in ahead of me. There were no stone lions, but that didn’t mean something else wasn’t lurking beside the path. There was plenty of shrubbery and undergrowth to hide a snake, or even something larger.
When we reached the first bend in the walkway, I looked back and found the doors to my private sanctuary closed behind us. No one would be following us.
More of the squirrel-fox things peered out from the tree branches as we continued down the path. They were soon joined by birds with jewel-toned plumage, butterflies with wingspans wider than my chest, and swarms of tiny creatures I’d originally thought were hummingbirds, but which turned out to be tiny dragons.
“This can’t be real,” I said. “Thumb-sized dragons?”
“Niddhogg’s not much bigger than your thumb,” Clem said with a giggle. “I’ve never heard of itty-bitty dragons, though. Or those squirrel things.”
“It must be an illusion,” I said and reached out toward the nearest tiny dragon.
Most of the swarm buzzed away from my hand. One of the little creatures, though, zipped over closer to me. The wind from its wings was cool and gentle against the backs of my fingers. Its tiny tongue, ruby red and forked, flickered out to taste the air. Golden eyes with slit pupils focused on me, and then the creature landed on the tip of my right index finger. It weighed less than a feather, and its tiny claws put scarcely any pressure on my skin at all.
“That is a convincing illusion,” Clem said.
The tiny dragon puffed out its chest as if in pride, tilted its head back, and unleashed a thin thread of violet fire. Despite the flame’s small size, its heat warmed my face and ruffled my hair.
“I don’t think it’s an illusion,” I whispered.
Satisfied with its display of dominance, the tiny dragon leaped out of my hand and zipped away from me. It circled once around Clem’s vibrant
