Eric yawned, feeling too comfortable lying in the hammock tied to the only oak tree in the academy. He'd found this spot during his wanderings, and it seemed he might adopt the quiet place for meditation. Or probably just to burn time while staying away from people, just as he'd always wanted.
The oak tree was indeed a prime lounging spot. The twin wooden daggers Silk had given him rested on his chest, rising and falling with his breath. He wasn't asleep. In his mind, he was replaying the fight with Opal—not his clumsy attacks, but the moment everything changed.
It was the boots.
He was going to pay Silk a visit sooner than intended. Silk was probably trying to get him expelled, giving him such life-threatening gear when the academy had clearly stated that first years were not to carry any weapon besides the standard blunt, wooden training equipment.
"'Train with these,' he told me. He didn't say they'd shoot out porcupine prickles and nearly kill a student."
