Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 97

But I do know. I go deeper and then I see it. Images flash, blurred and fractured, but clear enough. Her hands, slick with river water and blood, pressed against a glowing wound. The golden flare of dragonfire that wasn’t hers. The way that power surged into her like breath drawn too deep, like hunger finally fed. Then there’s more flashes, her in the woods again, pain in every line of her body, the echo of a growl that isn’t human. She’s siphoning, taking power, shaping it, wearing it like a second skin. And she’s good at it. Natural. Terrifyingly so. I step back before I’m seen, retreating to the edge of her consciousness. Her magic lashes once, like a snake sensing intrusion. I raise my own wards fast, masking the disturbance before she can register it.

She’s staring at the burnt parchment, whispering under her breath.

“I didn’t mean to,” she says softly, voice trembling. “It just… happened.”

No, I think. It didn’t just happen. You made it happen. You absorbed a creature’s power, many different powers and wielded them as if they were born in your blood. A siphon. She is a siphon, that I know now for sure. The realisation settles cold in my chest. Gods above, they’ll tear her apart if anyone finds out. Not because of what she’s done, but because of what she could do. Power like that doesn’t belong to one person, not according to the Council. It belongs to the war. I school my expression into calm neutrality, every trace of discovery buried deep behind my professional mask.

“Take a break, Miss Rivers,” I tell her, standing and turning away before she can see the calculation in my eyes. “You’ve done enough for

today.”

She blinks, confused by the softness in my tone. “Am I… in trouble?”

“Not yet.” The words slip out quieter than I intend.

I leave her sitting there, staring down at her still-trembling hands, and by the time the door closes behind me, I’ve already made up my

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12:50 Tue, Dec 30

What Are you, Little One?

mind. I won’t tell Scorched. Not yet. Not until I understand more about this girl, Allison Rivers. A Siphon.

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