Free Bloodcraft by Amalie Howard Page B

heat signature. “Heat radiation?” she asked and he shook his head. “Fine, how did you do it?”
    “You’re no fun. Come on, be inventive!”
    “Projection?”
    “Now we’re getting somewhere, but no.”
    “I give up.”
    Pan flung his arms wide. “The trees.”
    “The trees?” she repeated.
    “Yes, I can talk to them and they talk to me.”
    Victoria stifled the giggle that rose in her throat, her face twisting into a sarcastic expression. “Yeah, right. You saw me come in here, didn’t you?”
    “I’m serious, Victoria. I talk to trees, plants, bushes, and flowers.” He paused. “Why so surprised? They’re living things, too, and can communicate just as well as anyone. It’s why I was placed in the Advanced Program. I study Dendrology. It’s a rare gift.”
    She stared at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that was even possible,” she apologized, despite feeling like he was playing her. “And my name’s Tori.”
    “Here, I can see that you don’t believe me. I’ll show you.” Pan gabbed her arm and pulled her out of the building. He waved his hand above his head, and sure enough, the branches swayed, rustling in the wind as if in response to Pan’s special brand of magic.
    Victoria glanced up into the boughs of the trees stretching above them and shook her head in wonder. “Now that I think about it, it makes sense. Out of every living thing in the world, why would they be any different?” She smiled. “So what are they saying now? I can hear their leaves rustling, but that’s about it.”
    “They’re saying, ‘Pan, your friend is greener than we are. But she’s oh, so pretty,’” he said with a mischievous grin.
    “No, they’re not.” She laughed, drawn in by his playful teasing. Feeling determined to hear them on her own, she focused and summoned the blood magic to her center, but all she could discern was a muted whispering and a few indecipherable words. Still, her eyes widened in surprise—they were talking, although it seemed to be in a language she didn’t understand. “What are they really saying?” she said. “I don’t understand their language.”
    Pan shot her an incredulous look. “You can hear them?” She nodded, and this time, it was Pan’s turn to look surprised. “You truly are gifted.”
    “Where are you taking me, anyway?” she asked, blushing at his comment and noticing that they were headed back to the main manor house.
    “I was sent to fetch you for your assessment,” he said in a fake ominous tone. Despite his jovial eye roll, Victoria felt a nervous weight settle in her stomach as they walked toward one of the other points of the building. Her blood swirled restlessly, as if it, too, knew that something was in the wind. She quieted it with an unspoken command. There would be no display of rogue blood magic today, not if she could help it.
    “Here we are,” Pan said, depositing her at a door with some steps leading down into what looked to be some kind of basement area. There was a sign on the door that read ASSESSMENT IN PROGRESS. Victoria’s stomach soured even more at the thought of what lay beyond the entrance.
    “Good luck, Tori,” Pan said, opening the door and ushering her inside. He shot her a wicked grin. “Try not to die.”
    On that parting note, Victoria made her way down the stairs, her heart pounding so wildly she was afraid it’d leap out of her chest. She entered a large room, where Madame Starke and four other people were waiting.
    “Ah, Mademoiselle Warrick, you are right on time.” Madame Starke introduced her to the other four people, all of whom were various teachers and department heads—Mademoiselle Claret, head of Offensive Magic; Madame Didier, teacher of Curative Magic; Monsieur George, teacher of Defensive Magic; and, finally, Monsieur Thornton, head of Spatial Manipulation. Victoria committed the names and faces to memory and hauled a deep breath into her lungs to calm her rattled nerves. This was