The Faerie Guardian

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

I draw my legs closer to my body, pulling my feet out of the way of the two dwarves rushing down the corridor. I don't know what's got them in such a hurry so early in the morning—the dwarves around here generally like to take their time—but it's obviously important. I stretch my legs out again once they've passed and lean my head back against Tora's office door. So much for counseling and a report back. I've been waiting here at least twenty minutes and Tora hasn't shown up yet.

I stand and pull my bag onto my shoulder. I may as well get down to the Training Center instead of wasting time on a cold, hard floor. I jump over the stray vine busy sneaking its way toward the other end of the corridor and head downstairs. As always, I glance up at the domed ceiling as I cross the foyer. The swirling cloud of protective enchantments is still of the purple-grey-blue family. Ever since Flint told me they would change color if the Guild were under attack, I've felt the need to keep checking them. Just in case.

I've almost reached the other side of the foyer when I hear an all-too-familiar voice whining nearby. "But you know me. You see me every day." I slow down and look over at the entrance. Ryn is arguing with Basil, the day guard.

"You know the rules," says Basil. He crosses his arms and looks down at Ryn. As one of the few people taller than my obnoxious classmate, Basil manages this quite effectively. "Find your trainee pendant. Then I'll let you in."

I turn and continue on my way, not bothering to suppress a smile as Ryn groans in frustration. I pass the dining hall—which smells so good I want to stop and have another breakfast—and several empty lesson rooms before I reach my favorite place in the Guild: the Training Center. It's a massive hall with various areas set up for different kinds of training. Target practice includes shooting arrows, throwing knives and aiming blasts of magic. Trees, ropes, nets, a rock wall and a brick wall are clustered together in the section for climbing practice. Bars of different levels are set up in another area, and large mats meant for anything from stretching to sword fighting are strewn around the place.

I wander over to the trainee notice boards to check my schedule for the day. Finding the list of fifth years, I scan down it until I spot my name. Whoever organized the schedules has divided my morning into Running, Fish Bowl (Opponent: Honey), Target, and Climbing. I look up at the enchanted clock face painted onto the ceiling. Ten minutes early, but I may as well get started.

I head toward the running rectangles, passing two fellow fifth years sitting on a mat. They reach forward to touch their toes. I quicken my step. Aria and Jasmine have perfected the combined art of stretching and gossiping, and I'd rather not hear anything they have to say. Especially if it's about me.

I dump my bag beside the nearest running rectangle, sit down, and change my shoes. I'm already wearing clothes suitable for training. I remove my sound drops—circular shapes smaller than a coin—from a side pocket and stick one to each temple. With a wave of my hand, music blasts through my ears, drowning out all other sound. I step onto the darkened rectangle of floor, barely concentrating as I whisper the spell in my head. The floor slides away beneath my feet. I settle into a comfortable jog, matching my pace to the beat of the music.

My thoughts turn immediately to Nate. I still don't know what to think of him almost blurting out the big-deal L-word last night. How can he think he loves me already? He's only known me a couple of weeks. I try to examine my own feelings on the matter. I know I care about Nate, but I'm pretty sure I don't love him. Not yet. Do I? Maybe I do. Maybe being terrified that I'd lost him in the labyrinth means I love him. Would I do absolutely anything for him, just as he said he would for me? Would I . . . I don't know, die for him?