As I approach Bello’s office, my breathing slows and my heartbeat returns to normal. I take a deep sniff of salty sea air. The ocean is the only part of Bay City that I love. It is fishy and musky and warm. The steady sound of water lapping on the sand soothes my frazzled nerves, rinsing away the grime of the city…shooting an arrow at Siv Gareth…winning the competition…the horrific Brown Cloakers. I exhale it all in one deep breath, but dread soon fills the space it leaves behind. I know what is coming next. All too well, I know what is about to happen.
I reach the rounded wooden door of Bello’s office and pause before knocking, staring like a lost child at the black lines etched into rich mahogany and the ornate brass door handle. I lift my hand to knock on the door, but before I do, it swings wide open – all by itself, a slight squeak greeting me. Gingerly, I step into her office, setting my bag on the floor. All by itself, the door shuts behind me with a small clank, as if it needs to have the last word.
Bello is floating in the air before me, her legs crossed in a sitting position, and a smug smile on her face. If I hadn’t seen her do this before, I might be alarmed.
“What’s with the flair for dramatics?” I ask, disgusted as usual by her display of Power. I chastise myself silently, knowing that my snarky comments won’t help the situation.
Bello lands with a thud in a huge green overstuffed chair that is perched behind her desk, deep blue eyes hammering at me. I meet her gaze head on. I will not back down to her. Still, my palms are sweaty and damp and cold.
“What took you so long?” she barks at me.
I sigh, not wanting to relive my encounter with the Brown Cloakers. My hand instinctively bolts to my neck, rubbing at the soreness. What will my punishment be this time? The burning? The wedging? The squeezing? I especially hate the squeezing. Maybe she has something new…for a more serious transgression. I bite on my lower lip, contemplating my words, before speaking.
“Just a run in with a couple of Brown Cloakers,” I tell her, my voice dull, emotionless. “I won.”
Bello nods her head, slowly as if she is waiting to make a move at chess. Her silver earrings dangle with each movement, tiny dancing swords. I stare at them, refusing to make eye contact. Is she going to play with me like I am a mouse and she is a cat? Bat me around until she goes in for the kill?
“Sit,” she orders.
Obediently, I plop onto the hard backed wooden chair at the opposite side of her desk. I hold my back straight and peer down at Bello’s small frame in the huge green chair. She appears almost childlike, but I know better.
I scan Bello’s office…it is a mess. There are weapons everywhere. Old weapons that we never use but have to study anyway – battle axes, short swords, aiming swords, dirks, katars, longbows, and crossbows. There are even guns…rifles, shotguns, automatic weapons and more…all outlawed now. And, of course, the weapons we have trained in – that feel more familiar to me than the red jumpsuits I must wear every day. Bow and arrows. Blades. Spears.
Long mirrors line one wall, and I catch sight of my reflection. My pale face stares back at me with amber, almost golden eyes, and my long blonde hair spreads down off my shoulders in an unruly mess. The Mark of Power on my upper left cheek glares back at me, as useless as the golden sword in my bag. It takes me just a few minutes to come to the usual conclusion that I am nothing more than a freak….Teak the Freak. It is what they all call me. That or Ghost. Immediately I turn my eyes away.
On the opposite wall is a bookshelf full of troll figurines – Bello’s collection. I don’t understand her fascination with the ugly dolls, but there must be at least fifty of them, short, fat with wild hair of various colors. They are the only things in her office that are displayed neatly and not covered in dust.
Bello has some weapons training books scattered on her desk. Schools, healers, and a few others are allowed to use books for training purposes only. All other books have been banned since Siv Gareth’s army won the Final War, and he became the leader of the Alliance seven years ago. Some of Bello’s books are opened to pages displaying pictures of weapons and short descriptions of their uses. We have been allowed to look at them throughout the years, and I can visualize almost every weapon within. I stare blankly at them as I wait for her next move. It doesn’t take long.
“What was that pathetic display I saw today?” she spits at me, her piercing eyes full of accusation. I look up slowly as a small trickle of saliva lands on her desk.
“What are you talking about?” I retort sarcastically. “In case you didn’t notice I placed first.”
She pauses, strums her fingers on her desk and sneers at me. “Yes, you placed first…but that is it.”
I muster up my meanest look, hating her for what I know she is getting ready to bring up, hoping my amber eyes will unnerve her. I am wrong. Yet, I am guilt ridden. It hasn’t always been this way between us.
She wastes no time. “You refuse to harness your Power.”
Here we go again. The Power thing. I don’t know what I can say or do to make her understand. I try one more time.
“I. Have. No. Power.” I tell her, slowly, as if she is a small child. Or dumb.
Her blue eyes, a strange dark color that is almost purple, continue to slice through me, as if I were a piece of meat. “Are you really aware of who was there watching today…who you foolishly shot an arrow at?” Her voice rises.
“Yes, I am.” I mutter, sighing. I roll my eyes, something I know infuriates Bello. “Siv Gar…. Lord Gareth.”
Bello’s anger heightens. “Yes, Lord Gareth.” She bends forward, leaning toward me, and whispers so softly I can barely hear her. “The one man who can still order you to be destroyed.”
I fall back into my chair, as if I have been hit in the chest by a dragon flying at full speed. Destroyed? I can still be destroyed? I turn my attention back to the mirror…to the crescent shaped Mark of Power high up on my left cheek bone. The Mark of Power that has kept me alive.
She continues her tirade. “And what in the Angel’s fury were you thinking…shooting an arrow at the Alliance leader? Lord Gareth himself… in front of everyone? It is a wonder you are still alive!”
I turn my eyes toward Bello’s, contrite for a change. “I…I…don’t know. It just happened.”
“It just happened? What kind of an excuse is that? You had better start thinking before you act.” My mind wanders as she continues her outburst. What if my arrow would have killed Siv Gareth? What would have happened to me? A shudder runs through my entire body as her voice drones on.
“Unless you can display Power soon…”
My mind drifts again, not knowing what to say, what hasn’t already been said. I don’t know how to get through to her. I sigh, breathing out the entire, miserable day.
“...they’ll eat you alive at Soldier Academy.” Her lips curl up a bit, almost into a perfect smile. Is she taunting me?
I try to respond, to explain rationally what I have told her uncountable times about my Power – or lack of it. Her deep auburn hair, a mess of its own sort captures my attention and I focus on it as if it were a gem or jewel. Soldier Academy….Soldier Academy. No, I, think…I can’t go to Soldier Academy. It will kill me. Maybe not physically, but I know it will kill me on some level. Bello might as well pick up one of those weapons and kill me right now.
Staring at her, remembering all the drills, all the punishments, all the taunting…I suddenly snap. All the years of frustration and anger I have tamped down rise up in me like a flame that can’t be squelched. I bolt to my feet, rage coursing through me, an anger like I have never known.
“You don’t understand.” I yell, fire breathing out of me like a dragon’s flame. “I am tired of you always telling me I am not good enough. I am sick of hearing about my Power. The Power I tell you over and over again I don’t have. And I am done…so done getting punished for not having it.”
I pause, shooting her a death glare. Then, the words that should never be spoken spew out of my mouth. Once a
gain I don’t stop to think about the punishment that surely will follow. “I HATE WEAPONS! I HATE IT HERE. AND I HATE YOU!”
Bello’s head shoots backward, as if I had just kicked her in the face.
My voice lowers a little. “I especially hate all of those baggers in my class who have called me Teak the Freak…and Ghost…treated me like a…like a real circus freak ever since I showed up here.” Panting, I can’t seem to get enough air in my lungs. I feel a lump forming in my throat and a tear squeezes out of one of my eyes. I quickly wipe it away, not wanting Bello to notice, but I know she will. “AND I DON’T WANT TO GO TO SOLDIER ACADEMY!”
Bello blasts up out of her chair, leans forward, bracing herself on her desk. Her eyes narrow into tiny slits, cutting into me like a sharp dagger. I expect to be pinned against the wall, to have a burning sensation creep slowly all over my body, to have her squeeze me into a little ball with her Power. Or worse. I have crossed the line, broken the rules, and that is not allowed. In Weapons. That is not allowed at all.
But she remains still, quiet. I have never seen Bello without words. Or swift action. Finally, she speaks, her voice low. “What is it that you want?”
“DRAGONS!” I don’t know why I am still shouting, but I can’t seem to stop. “I LOVE DRAGONS. I WANT TO GO TO DRAGON ACADEMY!”
Another tear spills down my cheek, but this time I don’t even bother wiping it away. It lands on my crimson jumpsuit, leaks out like blood from my heart. I brace myself, knowing what Bello will do…preparing for the punishment of her choice. But as my eyes cast up toward the blue eyes that always overtake mine, nothing happens. The room is eerily quiet.
When Bello speaks again, words spill out of her pursed lips like poison. “Dragons?” She pauses, her eyebrows turning down, nostrils flaring. She strums her fingers on her desk again, then sighs deeply as if she were letting out all the evils of the world. “Entho won’t be happy about this. He won’t be happy at all.”
Chapter 6