Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 157

Chapter 157

Cassian

The first bell of the day hasn’t even finished ringing when the air starts to hum. Thornhill always feels old-its magic soaked into the walls, the floors, the bones of the place-but today it feels watched. The corridors are scrubbed, banners polished, uniforms pressed to perfection. The students whisper as they walk in straight lines like good little soldiers. Everyone knows what’s happening. The Council is coming. I stand near the front gates with the other professors, the morning light sharp against the frost on the stone. Scorched waits a few paces ahead of us, his back straight, his hands folded behind him like a general about to welcome his executioners. No one speaks. Even the birds seem to have the sense to stay quiet. The first carriage arrives in a slow roll of wheels and gold-trimmed wood. Two horses as black as night. The crest on the door catches the sun-an eye encircled by thorns. The Council’s sigil. I’d hoped never to see it again. The door opens, and Varyn D’Altair steps out first. He hasn’t changed. Same immaculate grey coat, same calm, predatory expression. Cage’s father carries the kind of composure that makes men flinch without realising why. Beside him, a second figure descends-a woman in silver robes, every fold embroidered with sigils. High Enchantress Lyssa Thane, one of the Council’s auditors. Her power slides through the courtyard like

cold oil, thin and poisonous.

Scorched inclines his head. “Lord D’Altair. Lady Thane. Welcome to Thornhill.”

Varyn’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Headmaster Scorched. It’s been some time.”

“Not long enough,” someone behind me mutters under their breath. I ignore it.

Lyssa looks around, her gaze assessing everything from the walls to the wards humming faintly at the gate. “The Academy appears to be in fine order.”

Scorched answers smoothly, “As always. Shall we proceed to the staff lounge?”

Varyn waves a hand. “No need. We prefer to begin immediately. Time is precious.” His eyes sweep the assembled professors until they find mine. The corner of his mouth tilts in faint amusement. “Professor Hill,” he says, drawing out the title just enough to make it sound like a taunt. “I believe you teach

Advanced Alchemy, do you not?”

“Yes,” I reply evenly.

“Excellent. I think we’ll begin there.”

A muscle jumps in Scorched’s jaw. “The Council will, of course, conduct their inspection as they see fit,” he says carefully, “but our first classes do not begin

for another hour.”

“Then we’ll wait,” Varyn replies pleasantly. “I’ve heard fascinating things about your students. I’d hate to interrupt their… progress.”

I know what he’s really saying. I’ve heard about her.

The rest of the teachers are dismissed to their own classrooms, and I walk back to mine in silence, feeling Varyn’s gaze like a knife between my shoulders. By the time I reach my desk, the usual morning noise feels distant. I sit. I wait. The door opens again right on time. Allison steps inside with Tessa, laughing softly at something I can’t hear. She looks tired but composed-her hair braided, her uniform neat, the faint shadows beneath her eyes the only sign she didn’t sleep, Kael and Evander follow a few minutes later, moving with that easy confidence that hides how dangerous they are. And then Cage walks in. He looks different this morning-calm in that forced way that makes my instincts go cold. He glances at his father waiting by the door, and something unspoken passes between them. I’ve seen soldiers look at their commanders that way.

“Take your seats,” I say quietly.

The students obey. Varyn and Lyssa stand near the back, pretending to observe the class at large but never taking their eyes off Allison.

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Chapter 157

“We’ll be reviewing controlled infusion today,” I announce. “Emphasis on balance.”

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Allison starts working immediately. Her hands are steady. Her power, which I know she’s taken from me, flows neatly into the mix, gold and white, flawless.

She’s trying hard to be invisible.

Cage, meanwhile, isn’t even pretending. He leans on his elbows, watching her like he’s waiting for her to trip. Varyn’s slight nad confirms it-this is the

game.

When Allison passes her vial forward for testing, Cage mutters something under his breath. She doesn’t react. He tries again, louder this time. “Careful, Rivers. Wouldn’t want to blow the place up again accidentally.”

Laughter ripples through the class and my pulse spikes.

“Mr D’Altair,” I say sharply, only using his last name for the sake of formality today, “focus on your own work.”

He grins without looking away from her. “Just trying to make sure she stays focused, sir.”

Allison’s jaw tightens. I can feel her temper rise through the bond-hot, bright, crackling at the edges. She keeps her gaze fixed on her hands. I slide my

consciousness carefully toward hers, brushing the edge of her thoughts.

Stay calm, little siphon. That’s what he wants.

Her head lifts slightly, her eyes flicking toward me for half a breath. Then she exhales, slow and deliberate, her magic settling again.

Varyn’s smile falters. Lyssa frowns faintly and notes something on her parchment. I should feel relieved. Instead, I feel…dread, because Varyn isn’t the kind of man who leaves a plan half-finished.

He steps forward, folding his hands behind his back. “A most disciplined display, Miss Rivers,” he says pleasantly. “Though I must admit, I had expected

something… more.”

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