I did not possess special magic. I was no diplomat. And it was doubtful anyone would authorize my passage.
“Your father is in the youth section of the prison, known as the Reformatory,” Ramseff said.
“Youth?” I wasn’t sure why I focused on that word alone.
“Eighteen to twenty-year-olds are permitted to apply for admittance.”
“I see.” From what I’d heard, the Reformatory and main prison were located side-by-side on the island. The Reformatory was believed to be a school, though I didn’t know what they taught. Maybe the usual subjects like at the Academy.
It couldn’t be for rehabilitation purposes. Criminals arrived to serve their sentences, but from what I’d heard, the only way off the island was in a coffin.
“He’s a teacher in the Reformatory?” I said. “Or is he the warden, the janitor, or a guard?” Maybe he worked in the kitchens. A prison would employ a large support staff unless they utilized brownies, like at the Academy.
“I’m afraid I’m not feeling generous enough to share further information with you.” Ramseff lifted his mug and calmly drank. “You asked for your father’s location, and I’ve given it to you.” His gaze flicked to the foyer. “You may leave now.”
“But, but,” I spat out. “How will I get there?” It was vital I talk with my dad.
He smirked. “Surely a Level Five Seeker such as yourself can arrange this on her own.”
It was impossible. I’d never get through the veil, let alone to the island.
Anger and frustration dueled inside me. My hands clenched at my sides, and I gnawed on my tongue to keep from hurling the wrong words out. That would get me nowhere.
Hold on a sec.
I pulled my cointage from my pocket and dropped it onto the table with a clang. The disc didn’t grant unlimited spending, but I should have enough credit, courtesy of my generous parents, to satisfy Ramseff.
His low growl rumbled through the room, and florid color rose in his cheeks. He slammed his mug on the table and hornwit tea slopped over the sides. It sizzled when it hit the surface. “You hope to bribe me?” Clouds of rage arcing with lightning stormed around his head. Did he possess a weather skapti in addition to a Seeker’s? Skaptis were inherent skills we used magic to enhance. Few had more than one ability to develop.
“How else can I pay?” I asked with a shrug I hoped came out casual. Inside, I alternated between quivering and fuming.
His head tilted as if he was unsure what to make of my response. Or maybe he was evaluating my worth. Would I come up lacking? “In order to reach the Reformatory, you’ll need to explore different options.”
In other words, there was no monetary price I could pay for transport. Despair rose inside me. I’d come so close. I’d found my birth father’s location but he was no closer to me than he’d been the moment I verified he was alive.
“Okay, then.” Standing, I swiped my sweaty palms on my thighs. “Thanks.” Not really, but I’d remain civil. He had shared where my dad was and that detail was important. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and strode toward the foyer, my stockinged feet swishing on the polished surface. My head remained high. I’d ask my grandfather. He might be able to—
“Perhaps we needn’t be hasty,” Ramseff said. “There might be a way. If…”
I turned and supported myself with my hand on the terat wood trim outlining the archway, to keep my shaky body from giving me away. “If what?”
“I need a small favor. In exchange I’ll arrange for your transportation to Darkwater.”
I could finally confront my father.
My legs trembled, threatening to dump me on the floor. I returned to the chair and sank onto the hardwood surface. “What kind of favor are we talking about?”
In my experience, favors came with stiff prices.
His fingers tapped steadily on his leg, and he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I have a minor problem. It’s almost not worth mentioning. But someone with your unique set of skills might be able to help me bring about a solution.”
“What would I have to do?” There was no hiding the eagerness in my voice. Despite my reservations, excitement burst through me. Close. I was so close!
“Before we proceed further, I’ll need your bound promise you’ll do as I ask and not speak of this to anyone else.”
A bonded promise required blood. My blood. It could only be broken when the promise was fulfilled. Or the person making the promise died. Might be best not to think about that part of the clause.
I reeled back, banging my shoulder on the upper edge of the chair hard enough I winced. “A bound promise before you tell me what I need to do?”
“A favor for a favor, shall we say? Do this one little thing for me, and I’ll send you to your father.” His voice deepened. “I believe you need something from him.”
How had he found out? I’d told no one.
I was desperate to talk to my dad, but how high a price was I willing to pay?
“Decide,” he said, his fingers tightening on his legs. “A chance like this won’t come again. My offer will be gone in three, two, o—”
“I’ll do it.” Whatever he asked. I had to. Otherwise…I shook my head. Do not think about it here. He might somehow…know.
A conniving smile flittered across his face before it smoothed, making me wonder if I was already too late.
“Hold out your hand,” he said.
I extended it forward, palm exposed. He mumbled a string of fae words too quickly for me to translate, and my blood pooled, forming a small circle in the depression of my hand. Ramseff suspended a triangular, silver pendant over the blood and it disappeared, sucked up by the cloudy stone in the center of the pendant.
“Lovely,” he said as he hung the pendant on a chain around his neck. “Your promise to complete this task is now unbreakable.” The slick satisfaction blooming on his wrinkly face sent fear bolting through me. I wanted to run but there would be nowhere to hide from a bond made with a Master Seeker. He’d be able to track me beyond death.
He’d own me until I’d fulfilled my part of the bargain.
A wave of his hand, and a large gold ball with a glossy, opaque surface appeared to hover between us.
“I’d like you to eliminate someone for me,” he said as if discussing the pinta cookies he’d consume with his mug of hornwit tea.
I blinked. “You said a small favor. You can’t mean murder.” I couldn’t do it!
“This person is a hardened criminal already. He’ll soon be slated for death.”
“Then why do I need to hasten that along?” This didn’t make sense. What wasn’t I seeing here? “He’ll die anyway.”
“I want it done as soon as possible, not after his relatives host multiple appeals.”
I held up my hand that still stung from the blood-letting. “Hold on. You’re saying he hasn’t committed a crime yet?”
“No more than you.”
The Master Seeker knew the crime this person would soon commit. Did he also possess a divination skapti? Only rare Sídhe could harness more than one ability, but this man was the leader of all the Seekers. No one rose to this high a position without considerable power and cunning.
If he could do divination—although no one could see everything—I didn’t stand a chance of outwitting him.
Unease prickled along my spine, making me itch, and a bitter flavor pooled in my mouth.
“Come,” he said, waving toward the ball. “See.”
A dark gray mist swirled inside the ball. The fog slowly cleared, and a picture formed of the Academy’s eastern pasture, with the forest behind. Someone walked there. Oh. Professor Trarion. My sister, Fleur, had taken classes with the fae Magical Creatures and How to Tame Them teacher. She was sweet and kind and a lot of fun. I liked her.
I leaned forward, watching as another person slunk behind the Professor, picking up speed. They…My breathing shuddered to a halt.
It wasn’t just any person—it was
me.
My jaw dropped, and I turned to Ramseff. “How…?”
“Careful,” he said in a cheery voice, but his eyes… They were sharp enough to slice open a vein. “Watch or you’ll miss the best part. It’s about to happen.”
The person following Professor Trarion—no, me—pulled a knife from a sheath on her calf. She rushed toward the Professor and sunk the knife deeply into the Professor’s back. No sound was released into this room, but I felt the Professor’s death shriek as if I stood right behind her. In some ways I did stand behind her.
Dread splintered my bones, and I moaned.
Professor Trarion collapsed onto the ground, and the person—me—fled toward the woods.
“No,” I wailed, my fingers knotted together on my lap. “What have you done?”
“Me?” Ramseff asked with a low chuckle. “I haven’t done anything. You have.”
“But I didn’t.” I cupped my cheeks as pain rushed through me. “It’s not me. I’d never… Who is that?”
“A wizard who needed a favor. Much like you.”
He couldn’t have known I was coming here, yet he seemed to have arranged for this…assassination while I sat across from him, salivating about cookies. Forget hunger. I wanted to throw up.
“This wizard’s payment came due,” he said casually. “And now they’ve fulfilled their side of our blood bargain.”
Waves of horror roared over me, drowning me. “I…I…”
Ramseff stood. “It’s time for you to leave, child. Darkwater awaits.”
I gaped up at him, barely hearing his words. Professor Trarion! She needed help.
Who was this man, this Master of all Seekers? Seekers were cops, always the good guys. They delivered justice.
Not murder.
Yet…I’d promised—blood promised—to commit the same crime.
“Monster!” Jumping up from the chair, I ran at him, my hands lifting.
Ramseff flicked his fingers toward me, and I froze.
The room compressed. Wavered.
“The favor I need?” His words pierced the flit-space yanking me away from the Guild’s headquarters. “I’d like you to kill a young man. His name is Brodin. Complete this task, and I’ll arrange for your extraction from the Reformatory.”
I landed with a jarring thud, my knees biting into the ground on the edge of the eastern pasture of Crystal Wing Academy. My gaze blurred as I rose and spun around.
The Professor lay unmoving, the blade still sticking up from her back. Slick blood pooled around her, glossy and dark. Lifeblood.
The person warded to look like me was nowhere to be seen. I stood in their place after what must’ve been a seamless switch.
“Her!” someone shouted. “She did it. Tria stabbed Professor Trarion!”
Run.
I raced into the forest, my stockinged feet pounding the path and my heart slamming against my rib cage. Darting around bushes and trees, I leaped over logs and aimed for the mountains. If I was lucky, I could—
They were on me in a flash.
Whimpering, my breathing grew ragged. I was shoved from behind, and I tumbled forward. The earth slammed up to meet me.
Stupid to think I’d never outdistance centaur Seekers. Their hooves ground into the soil as they surrounded me and, when I peered up, fury blazed on their faces.
“Gotcha,” Roark said. “Caught in the act. Your Council trial will be swift.”
One of the other Seekers—Harline and a former mentor—laughed. The harsh sound grated across my skin. “Darkwater’s the only place that’ll claim you now.”
Of course. Ramseff’s favor. I’d committed a crime and would now be sent to the Prison. Once I found a way to the Reformatory, I’d be able to confront my birth father. But in exchange for my freedom, I had to kill Brodin.
Hauling me to my feet, Roark and Harline secured my wrists and ankles with unbreakable, magical binds. Tenna devices. I’d learned about the fiery, magic-suppression bands in my Seeker’s classes.
The bindings tightened as the imbedded spells bit deeply, severing through my flesh and drawing blood.
It dripped on the white snow like a massacre in progress.
* * *
Look for Wicked Betrayal, Book 1 in my Darkwater Reformatory Series, on Amazon.
You can find it here.
Would you like a peek at my YA contemporary suspense,
Dead Girls Don’t Lie?
Just turn the page…
Other books by Marty Mayberry
DEAD GIRLS DON’T LIE,
A contemporary YA suspense
On Amazon & in Kindle Unlimited
CRYSTAL WING ACADEMY
A YA suspense set in a Potter-like world
Outling, Book One
Dragonsworn, Book Two
Unraveler, Book Three
DARKWATER REFORMATORY
Wicked Betrayal
Untitled
Untitled
Join Tria in a grittier YA magical series
set in supernatural juvie.
More about Marty
I also write adult romance as
I also write romance as
Marlie May
You can visit my Amazon Page
Crescent Cove Contemporary Romances
SOME LIKE IT SCOT (link)
SIMPLY IRRESISTIBLE (link)
Other, Independent Titles
TWIST OF FATE, May, 2019
(A time travel romance set in ancient Pompeii)
On Amazon & in Kindle Unlimited
Crescent Cove Romantic Suspense
FEARLESS
RUTHLESS
RECKLESS
Dead Girls Don’t Lie
~or do they?
Seventeen-year-old Janie Davis was found wandering a Maine beach with second-degree burns and no memory of what happened. An accident on a yacht caused it to sink, taking her parents and best friend down with it. Recovering, Janie returns home under the watchful gaze of her new guardian—an aunt who had been ostracized by Janie’s family.
Snooping uncovers the accident report. She’s horrified to learn the deaths could be murder and is determined to solve the crime. Selective breaking and entering leads her to two suspects: her father’s shady business partner who profited from Dad’s death and her aunt, a woman with a sketchy past she’s eager to hide. Unsure where to turn next, Janie enlists the help of Emanuel Sancini, a fellow high school senior who thinks doing community service in the library means he can call himself a librarian.
Their investigation leads them to crash a party where they uncover more evidence in the homeowner’s office. Discovered in the act, they’re forced to conceal their crime by pretending—sort of—that they snuck into the room to make out. Then Janie’s brake lines are cut and only a quick plunge to the tile floor keeps an overhead lamp from impaling her in the school library. This, and the warning, You’re Next, proves Janie’s getting closer. With Janie targeted, she and Emanuel must race to expose the murderer. Or Janie could wind up dead.
Chapter 1
Aunt Kristy insisted I was strong enough to go to school today, but my heart, a tiny bird trapped in my chest, disagreed. I climbed from her SUV and pushed the door shut, steeling my expression as pain shot up my arms.
My aunt came around the hood and thrust out her hand. “Give me your backpack, Janine. I’ll take it inside for you.”
“It’s Janie,” I said.
“What?”
“I told you before. Everyone calls me Janie.” I tightened my hand on the strap looped over my shoulder. “And I can carry my own bag, thanks.”
“Well. Okay. If you’re sure. Janie.” She worried her necklace, releasing a sigh, then pivoted on her heel and hurried up the walkway. I imagined she was dying to get to the teacher’s lounge to put away her things. Gulp down a cup of coffee before she had to convince a bunch of teenagers that chemistry was fun. Or maybe she just wanted to get away from me.
Two months ago, Aunt Kristy moved
into my home and applied for a job at my high school. She’d done her best to be a parent since. Few people would take on raising a niece they barely knew. Considering she and Dad hadn’t been close since before I was born, that said something.
“Hey, there you are,” someone said from behind me.
Turning, I hugged Sean, my remaining best friend from before.
“Whoa, aren’t you a rebel? I like it,” he said, taking in my dark green skirt and white tee. At Finley Cove High School, we were expected to wear white collared shirts and khakis, and ‘keep our appearances tidy’. Sean could be a poster child for the school dress code.
“That’s me, living dangerously.” I’d tucked my shirt into a skirt that landed above rather than below the knee. While my outfit would challenge the school board rules, it still felt awesome wearing something other than ratty shorts and a tee. “I, well, you know, lost weight. Nothing else fits. Think I can get away with it until I hit the mall?”
“I won’t tell.” His gaze fell away from mine. “You ready to hit the gauntlet?” At my tight nod, he shoved his backpack strap higher on his shoulder and held out his arm. A few months ago, he would’ve held out both arms. One for me and one for his girlfriend. Brianna.
The doctors said I should be grateful because I’d only received second-degree burns. Third-degree would’ve been worse because the nerves would be shot and I’d never regain sensation. Those doctors didn’t know a damn thing. Pain could be swatted away like a pesky fly. Losing the people I loved had gutted me.
Crystal Wing Academy- The Complete Series Page 78