Silver Storm: Chapter One
I call fire to my fingertips and watch Yale turn to ash in a champagne flute.
We regret to inform you that…
The rejection letters burn one by one, each Ivy League seal blackening as fire consumes dreams I never wanted in the first place. Yale. Harvard. Princeton. Even Cornell, my so-called “safety school.”
This isn’t how my life was supposed to go. I was supposed to follow the plan—graduate from Dalton, attend Yale like my parents, marry someone from the right family, and keep the Harrington dynasty burning for another generation.
Now the Gulfstream’s engine hums beneath me—the familiar sound of my family’s jet, a song I’ve known since childhood. But strapped into this flying prison bound for a school I never applied to, I’d trade it all for a beat-up Greyhound that smells like gasoline, headed literally anywhere else.
“Jade?” T’s voice cuts through the cockpit door. She’s been our family’s pilot for as long as I can remember, although she looks barely older than my sister. Her dark hair always whips like there’s wind following her, and her presence makes the air prickle, like a storm waiting to break.
I extinguish the flames with a thought and snatch up my lighter, sliding it across the table as if that explains the smoke.
“Everything okay back there?” she asks. “I smell—”
“Smoke. Yeah. Turns out rejection letters make excellent funeral pyres.” I raise a champagne glass in mock salute as she steps inside. “Did you know Blaze Academy doesn’t even have a website? Like, nothing. They’re a digital ghost.”
Her expression goes carefully blank. “The school must be… selective.”
“Come on, T.” I roll my eyes and set the charred glass down on the table. “You don’t actually think that, do you? Don’t you also have questions? Don’t you also think this whole thing is just a little bit weird? Just a little?”
“I’m sure you’ll love it there, Jade.” She glances out the window, her eyes catching the light in a way that makes me wonder if she’s seeing something I can’t. “Now, buckle up. The weather’s changing.”
“The forecast said clear skies all the way to Maine.”
“Forecasts are only suggestions.” She gives me a small, knowing smile. “The sky has its own plans today.”
Before I can press her further, thunder crashes so loud the jet shudders, lightning flashing across the sky in jagged silver veins.
“What the hell—” I’m cut off when another strike slams close enough that ozone scorches through the cabin’s filtered air, and then lightning is everywhere, webbing the sky with violent electricity that looks more like special effects in an apocalyptic movie than something in real life.
“T!” I shout over the thunder. “We need to land!”
But she doesn’t head back to the cockpit. Instead, she moves toward me with impossible calm, the lights in the cabin flickering and dying one by one as she approaches, leaving only the silver glow from outside.
“Your time has finally come.” Her voice carries over the chaos with unnatural clarity, like something possessed.
“Are you crazy? We’re about to get struck by—“
Lightning hits us dead-on.
The cabin floods with a brilliant silver glow, electric rivers racing across the walls and ceiling. And through the bone-shaking turbulence, there’s a high-pitched whine, like electronics dying, as if the jet is screaming in protest.
Ice-cold terror floods through me as I grip the seat and glance around the quickly deteriorating plane, the last few minutes of my life feeling like they’re moving in slow motion. So slow I can barely comprehend it, other than knowing this is all totally, horribly wrong.
T reaches me as another bolt strikes, and she’s incredibly calm, even though the plane is about to crash.
“Jade. I need you to relax and trust the storm.”
Then her palm is on my forehead, and light’s crashing through me. Not the shock of electricity, but something deeper. Starfire and storm winds. Power I can’t name. It pours into me, burning through my veins like molten silver, awakening parts of myself I didn’t know existed.
Every nerve in my body lights up like a live wire.
The cabin dissolves into brilliant silver.
And then, darkness.
* * *
I wake with a gasp, certain I’m dead.
My body feels heavy, and instead of the leather seats of the Gulfstream, scratchy fabric digs into my skin.
A car. I’m in the back of a moving car. And my clothes are different—the dress I was wearing has been replaced by something black and practical, almost military. And the matching combat boots? Yeah, those definitely weren’t pulled from my closet.
“Back with us, I see.” T’s voice floats from the driver’s seat, as if we hadn’t just been struck by silver lightning and survived a plane crash.
“What happened?” I bolt upright, wincing as pain sears my skull.
“You passed out.” She meets my eyes in the rearview mirror, her expression maddeningly calm. “The storm startled you.”
“Startled me?” I grip the back of the passenger seat, my fingers leaving scorch marks on the fabric. “The plane was going down! There was lightning everywhere, and you touched my forehead, and then—”
“We landed safely about an hour ago.” She takes a sharp turn, and I grab the handle before I faceplant. “Everything’s fine.”
I shake my head, unable to make sense of this. Because nothing about this is fine. My skin feels wrong, like it doesn’t belong to me anymore. Sparks keep flickering through my nerves, and my fire feels… feral. Like it’s burning hotter than ever, daring me to lose control.
“Where are we?” I look out the windows as pine trees blur beneath the gray sky, trying to ground myself in something normal. Something real.
“We’re almost there,” she replies.
I lean forward, gripping the seat again. “T, seriously. Where the hell are we?”
Her silence stretches too long.
“I need my phone.” I pat down my pockets, finding nothing. “Where’s my phone? I need to call my parents.”
“Your belongings are in the trunk,” she says, slowing the car. “You’ll get them when we arrive.”
“To the school?”
“To the beginning of your true education.” She navigates the narrow mountain road like she’s driven it a thousand times, and then the trees break ahead, revealing a large clearing. “We’re here.”
She pulls the car to a stop, and through the windshield, I count seven people standing in the clearing. They’re just waiting there, watching, as if they’re expecting us.
“You’re seriously just leaving me here?” I ask, not moving. “With strangers?”
“They won’t be strangers for long.” She’s already out, opening my door. “Come on. Out you go.”
“No.”
“Yes.” She pulls me out of the car with more force than necessary, and it’s a miracle I remain standing instead of falling to the ground.
As I steady myself, I become suddenly aware of the seven strangers staring at me like I’m an exhibit in a museum. Five of them look about my age—three girls and two boys. The other two guys are older, maybe early twenties. One of them practically vibrates with a mix of perfect control and barely leashed violence, his storm-gray eyes tracking my movements like he’s deciding whether to strike now or later. The other looks like he crawled out of a weapons catalog, all sharp edges and cruelty wrapped in skin.
The car door suddenly slams shut, and my attention snaps back to where T’s already sitting in the driver’s seat.
“Good luck, Jade,” she says, the locks clicking. “And remember—you can always trust the stars.”
“What? No, you can’t just—“ But she’s already backing up, tires crunching on gravel. I lunge, but the car spins in a perfect three-point turn before I can reach it. “My luggage! My phone!”
The engine growls, then fades into the trees, leaving me standing empty-handed, like the world’s dumbest abandoned puppy.
Perfect. Just perfect.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
“Jade Harrington?” someone asks from behind me, his voice clipped and precise.
I turn around, heat flooding my cheeks as the dark-haired guy steps forward. His perfectly pressed clothes can’t hide the coiled tension in every line of his equally perfect body, and when those storm-gray eyes lock on mine, I feel like I’m being cataloged and filed away.
“Yeah?” I cross my arms, feigning confidence while my pulse sprints. “And you are?”
He doesn’t answer. He just keeps staring, that silent assessment making me want to either fidget or punch him. Maybe both.
One of the guys around my age speaks first—ash-blonde hair slicked back like he raided his dad’s gel stash. “I thought the Harringtons haven’t had magic in, what, five generations?” he asks.
“Garrett,” a tall girl with dark skin says to him, not glancing up from her nails. “Save the genealogy lesson for later.”
“I’m just saying, it’s weird they’d accept a Harrington.” He turns to address me again. “You’re basically rich mortals pretending you matter.”
Wow. Okay, then. I’ve had my fair share of judgements because of my family name, but that’s definitely a new one.
“Thanks for the warm welcome.” I raise a hand to stop him from continuing, giving him a mock indignant look. “But I can assure you there’s no pretense here. I gave up caring what people thought about me a long time ago.”
As for having magic and not being mortal… well, I’ve always known creating fire from my fingertips isn’t normal. I’ve just never been around anyone who’s dropped the word magic so casually, as if it’s simply another thing in the world that exists, like ice cream and beach vacations.
I’m contemplating where to even start when a girl with a severe ponytail steps forward, yanking me out of my thoughts.
“I’m Vera Jackson,” she introduces herself. “That’s Sam.” She points her thumb at a nervous-looking boy with messy brown hair who keeps patting his pockets like something important is missing.
“I’m Nina,” says the nail girl.
“And I’m Evie,” says a girl with auburn hair piled into a messy bun, pencils stabbed through like forgotten weapons.
It’s a cool look. Academic chic. I like it.
They all watch me, like they’re waiting for me to tell them more about myself, as if this is a summer camp ice-breaking ritual. Which is insane. But at least they know my name and seem to have been expecting me, which means T didn’t kidnap me and deliver me to criminals in a creepy forest clearing who want to use me as blackmail to extort money from my parents, right?
No, I think, trying to shake some sense into myself. T’s known me forever. She’s basically part of the family. She wouldn’t leave me somewhere dangerous with people who weren’t safe.
Then what, exactly, did she do? And why didn’t she tell me she was going to do it?
I have so many questions, and she left before I could ask any of them. As if she never cared about me at all. It’s crazy, and unfair, and honestly, I wish I was home right now, taking my dog Gemma for a walk in Central Park or having drinks at Bemelmans with my friends.
Although, I don’t exactly have friends anymore, since they all left to go to their real colleges already. Harvard, Yale, Princeton, and all the others that sent me those lovely rejection letters I burned in those champagne flutes.
Now I’m here with people who are talking seriously about magic.
Which means they might know why I’ve been able to create fire with my fingers since I was twelve.
Isn’t this what I’ve always wanted—answers to all my questions? Well, I didn’t exactly want it to start with a plane crash and my pilot abandoning me in the woods, but I’m not about to turn down an opportunity to get answers, even if said opportunity isn’t happening in the most ideal of circumstances.
“Look.” I take a deep breath to center myself, addressing the group. “I was heading to Blaze Academy, but my pilot dumped me here with no explanation, no luggage, no phone, no anything. So, if someone could tell me what the hell’s happening here, that would be great.”
They all stare at me like I’ve lost my mind. Which is funny, since out of everyone here, I feel like the only sane one. And I’ve never felt like the sane one.
Finally, the gray-eyed guy steps forward, and all attention goes to him, as if he owns this clearing. “I’m Logan Ashford, student proctor,” he says, the title sounding like both a warning and a threat.
“Kieran Cross.” The dangerous-looking guy next to him eyes me sharply as he sizes me up. “Weaponry and Applied Flamecraft instructor.”
“Proctor?” I blink, looking back and forth between the two of them in confusion. “Weaponry? What is this, some kind of hazing ritual?”
“This is the Hydra trial,” Logan says flatly, as if it should be obvious. “First-year initiation. You fight, you collaborate, and you prove you belong at Blaze Academy.”
I stare at him like he’s crazy, because what he just said sounds pretty damn crazy.
Sam raises his hand—actually raises his hand—and we all look to him.
“The Hydra as in the mythological creature?” he asks. “Six heads? You cut one off and two grow back? Hercules killed it as his second labor, but only because he cauterized the necks with fire, which prevented regeneration—”
The ground shakes, like something huge rolled over in its sleep beneath us, cutting him off mid-sentence. Thunder rumbles overhead, and I swear the air tastes like copper and lightning.
“Time to see what you’re made of.” Kieran’s voice is calm. Too calm. The kind of calm serial killers have in documentaries right before they smile at the camera. “Survive… or don’t. We’ll be watching.”
Logan’s eyes burn into mine for one last second. “Try not to die, Harrington,” he says, and there’s something almost disappointed in his tone, like he’s already written me off.
Then, he and Kieran burst into flames.
I scream and stumble back, heat searing across my skin. But when the light vanishes as quickly as it appeared, there’s nothing. No ash. No scorch marks. Just empty ground where they stood.
“What the hell—”
“Relax.” Evie tucks one of the pencils deeper into her bun. “They fire traveled. And don’t freak out about the trial—we can’t actually die. It’s just an opportunity for us to demonstrate our raw talent before we reach the academy.”
“Can’t die?” The words rip out strangled, my chest tightening. “Super comforting when we’re apparently about to fight a mythological—”
The roar that erupts from the nearby cave makes my bones vibrate.
“Just remember,” Sam says quickly, his words tumbling over each other, “cauterize the necks or the heads grow back, that’s the most important—”
Before he can finish, the cave explodes, and everything erupts into chaos.
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