A growl rolled through the faculty benches. It wasn't one voice, it was the sound of teeth grinding behind closed mouths, the sound of pride being forced to swallow.
The commotion and disgust and cries in the audience still continued, but Teravik never bothered to face them.
Jawne and Kelsy had wrapped the two unconscious maidens with thick blankets. Crystal's hair still carried flecks of melted ice like shattered glass. Cryshela's lips were pale, her lashes trembling faintly with breath.
To the school, the audacious teacher taking the tower tokens and the prizes looked like a scavenger collecting from corpses.
She moved toward the exit without hurry, the recording crystal lifted between thumb and forefinger as if it were a ring of authority.
At the exit, teachers and parents clogged the path. They stared, eyes red, hands shaking, lips drawn back over words they couldn't yet afford to say.
Teravik stopped just before them.
She lifted the recording crystal higher.
