On Friday Dylan took Aiden to school like normal and sat through Health like nothing was wrong. Guilt twisted in his gut. He almost got hurt during Major Magical Control, the fox sisters looking at him with concern as one of their spells knocked him flat on his back.
Dylan changed his mind a dozen times, but in the end he knew he’d regret it if he didn’t go. So instead of going to lunch, Dylan got in his car and drove to city hall.
A little stage had been set up across the street from the front doors, with a podium and microphones and everything. Several big lights surrounded the area, making it almost as bright as day. The whole street was blocked by the crowd. People stood around with signs saying things like Justice! and Wardens Lie, We Die!
As Dylan made his way into the crowd, a few people turned to stare at him. Then someone ran up to him, eyes wide. He recognized the girl who had been handing out fliers.
“Dylan! Oh my God, you came!” She grabbed his arm, and he yanked it back. “Oh, sorry.” She gave him an apologetic look. “You should follow me.”
“Why?” The whole thing seemed surreal and amazing, and he was overwhelmed. Now he was getting too much attention, and he wondered if he should leave.
“You should go up and make a speech,” the girl said.
Yeah, maybe leaving was a good idea. “No.”
She blinked uncertainly. “Um, well. Okay. But you should meet some people. Have you met Dalton’s parents?”
Dalton…? Oh yeah, the werewolf kid the hunters had murdered. The first victim of the corrupt wardens who had been kidnapping people so mundanes could hunt them for sport. “Yeah. Once.” They’d come to his house to thank him for helping to catch the killers.
“Well, I’m sure they’d love to talk to you again. Come on. Please?”
Everyone was watching him. But not in fear. It reminded him a bit of the spring exhibition—being the center of attention in a good way. So he followed the girl as she wove her way through the crowd to the side of the stage.
Dalton’s parents were dressed in suits with long black wool coats over them, talking to a small group. They smiled when they saw him.
“Dylan,” Dalton’s dad said. “I’m so glad you came.”
Dylan flinched when the man patted his shoulder. “Uh, yeah.”
“We’ll never forget how you and your mom caught our son’s killers,” Dalton’s mom said.
“Mr. Johnson too.” Holy crap, he couldn’t believe he’d just stuck up for the warden. “And Aiden,” he added hastily.
“Yes, them too,” she agreed, though it didn’t quite sound sincere.
“Are you going to speak? We’d love it if you did,” Dalton’s dad said.
“I’m not much of a… speech person.” How many people were standing out there? A hundred? Two hundred?
“It doesn’t have to be anything fancy,” Dalton’s mom said. “Just speak from the heart. Share your feelings about the wardens and how they’ve treated you with suspicion your whole life.”
Dylan thought about pointing out that everyone had treated him with suspicion, including the werewolves. He glanced at the growing crowd again. They wanted to hear him. They were carrying signs that ranged from challenging Enrico Abelli’s death to being outright anti-warden and anti-treaty. And they were doing it right in front of city hall. Talk about defying authority. Here was a chance to do something truly rebellious.
“Just… talk?”
“Yes.” Dalton’s mom smiled. “Go on up there, Dylan.”
Right now? Dylan swallowed. Before he could chicken out, he climbed up on the small stage and walked to the podium.
The crowd murmured and then began to clap and cheer. Everyone turned toward him. He could see a few police guarding the doors to city hall and standing at the edges of the crowd. Waiting for trouble, no doubt.
“Hi, I’m Dylan.” Oh, great. That was so lame. But the cheering got louder and his chest swelled. Speak from the heart, she’d said. “All my life I’ve been treated like a… a bomb about to go off. All because I was born dragonkin. I was guilty before I ever did anything, locked up in this town. I can’t even get a pass to go on vacation. I’ve never been outside Shadow Valley.”
People shouted comments. He made out the words “Unfair!” and “That’s not right!”
“Wait, no. I have.” He gripped the sides of the podium. Wood, so he better not get too pissed and set it on fire. “When wardens kidnapped me and dragged me outside of town so I could be hunted.”
More shouting and lots of booing. It felt so… powerful to stand up here and have people hang on his every word. “And now there’s a warden in my school, watching my every move. Threatening to throw me out of school and put me in prison.” He’s gonna be so pissed when he finds out I came here.
Yeah, and so would Mr. Johnson. And Aiden. Dylan tried to ignore the sting of guilt. It felt so good to vent his frustration with so many people cheering him on. The crowd kept getting louder, and he had to pause to let the noise die down.
“Why should I be treated like this? Why should anyone be treated like this?”
The spectators were practically roaring now, waving their signs, pumping their fists in the air. Dylan looked up at city hall where a few people without uniforms stood at the top of the stairs. Wardens probably.
Fear and defiance warred inside him, but finally Dylan stared straight at them and shouted, “Fuck the wardens!”
The crowd went nuts.
Dylan raised both middle fingers, elation making him light-headed, and walked off the stage.
Dalton’s dad clapped him on the back. “That was wonderful.”
“Excellent job, Dylan,” Dalton’s mom said.
Several more people came up to congratulate him, shaking his hand or patting his shoulder, and Dylan could only stand with a goofy grin on his face.
Zoned out, he missed when Dalton’s mom started speaking. She was at the podium now with Dalton’s dad beside her.
“… took my son from me.” Her hands gripped the sides of the podium. “The wardens claim they found everyone responsible, rooted out the corruption. But do we know how deep the infection goes? Can we really trust anyone that holds themselves as judge, jury, and executioner?”
The crowd looked even more pissed off now. Dylan spotted a cop at the edge of the protest, and he looked a little nervous. The wardens in front of city hall had expressions ranging from carefully neutral to glaring anger.
“Too long we’ve stood meekly by and followed the treaty without question. Allowed the council and the wardens to lock up our innocent children in order to protect the mundane world.” Her voice had a growl in it. “And now they’ve murdered a man for stepping out of line. And we’re supposed to be content with the wardens’ explanation of events?”
Dylan’s power coiled inside him. The cold air carried a mixture of scents as several other people were close to using their magic.
“How many more of our neighbors, our friends, our children have to die before we do something about it?”
An object sailed out of the crowd and hit one of the wardens. It shattered into white powder as it hit her, and Dylan realized it must have been a snowball. The warden shouted in surprise and started marching toward the crowd.
Another snowball hit a different warden. A few people in the crowd laughed.
Then something else flew from the crowd, hitting a warden in the chest and then shattering on the ground with a distinctive tinkle.
All the wardens and police tensed and started coming at the crowd. The scent of magic grew even stronger.
Dylan froze. This was his chance to really fight back. But how could this possibly end well? Even with this many people, would they be able to fight the wardens, the council, and the police?
A spell crackled in the air, flashing amid the people with yellowish light. Dylan couldn’t tell if it was from the wardens or the protesters.
That was it. He was getting out.
Dylan tried to run as the crowd surged, some running toward the fight and others running away.
A hand clamped on his arm, yanking him hard. “Down on the ground, now!”