HUSH, Ivy 2: Knights at the Academy (HUSH IVY)

by Kirah Nyx

  The beast’s hands rested on the floor, its back arched to its limits, and its face peered out from between its legs. Its lips parted in an echo of a grin.

  Only, instead of laughter, came a cackle, and in place of teeth were pointed metal needles bulging from bleeding gums.

  Ivy’s vision was obscured by tears of horror. Through the cloudiness, she gawked in absolute horror before a wretched scream ripped through her throat and tore through the school.

  11.

  “Stay in formation everyone!” Houseparent Rowena shouted over the wails of the alarm. She herded the Vampires out of the Academy onto the grounds. “A two-person line! Amina! Amina, get back in line!”

  Holding Ivy’s pet wolf, Addie jogged beside Harriet in the queue. Addie had awoken to the alarm in the dorm, yet neither of her roommates had been there.

  She jumped up to look over the other Vampires at the rest of the grounds. Stray Fae were pouring out of the manor and forest to reach the evacuation point.

  All around the Academy grounds were the teachers and Houseparents directing their students to the emergency glittergate by the Fae Springs; Videer Knights supervised, but there went many of them—the rest would be in the crypts, responding to the threat. But, neither Ivy nor Penny were in sight.

  The frantic thumps of her heartbeat thudded in her throat. Addie stretched herself up onto her tip-toes and scanned the area again.

  The panicked Fae Houseparent dashed toward Houseparent Rowena.

  The line of Vampires stumbled to a halt, and they waited with bated breaths. Harriet shoved through the line to the front where the Houseparents whispered between themselves.

  “What’s going on?”

  Addie glanced over her shoulder. It was Asher Bellmen. He seemed to have spoken his thoughts aloud, but Addie answered anyway.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I think the crypt was breached.”

  Zeke Parker pushed forward and looked over Asher’s shoulder. “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Nowhere,” she replied stiffly. “But why else would there only be twelve Videer Knights supervising the evacuation?”

  Zeke and Asher scanned the grounds. Zeke’s lips twitched as he silently mouthed the number of Videer he spotted.

  “Bloody night,” whispered Asher. “You reckon they were really breached? They’re impossible to get into.”

  “They were,” said Harriet. She grunted as she shoved by a fifth year to join them. “Houseparent Mabel said as much.”

  Addie frowned and looked over at the Houseparents. Mabel raced away, back to her own pupils, the Fae; all of whom did the same as the Vampires—speculated.

  “She told Rowena,” whispered Harriet, “that the glittergate is jammed. We can’t get through. We’re stuck here.”

  “Jammed?” repeated Zeke shrilly. “What d’you mean, jammed?”

  Harriet shrugged nonchalantly, though her panicked eyes gave her away. “That’s what she said. It hasn’t got enough energy to carry anyone through to the other side. A few of the Fae teachers are trying to repair it right now.”

  How does a glittergate suddenly … break down? Addie couldn’t answer that. It was Fae business. But in all her life lived within the confines of the cloaked world, glittergates had never failed.

  Asher gulped. “So what, then? We just wait it out?”

  “I guess so,” said Harriet, wringing her hands together.

  Addie, up on her tip-toes, looked over the heads of the Vampires. “Has anyone seen Ivy or Penny?” she asked, craning her neck to look over at the Fae. “They’re not here.”

  Harriet rolled her eyes. “Not since yesterday.”

  Zeke and Asher shook their heads.

  “Felix,” whispered Addie.

  “Oh, I saw Felix,” said Harriet. “He left the den about an hour before the evacuation alarm.”

  “No, I mean, there’s Felix,” said Addie, jerking her head toward the woods. “What’s he doing?”

  Harriet hissed at a nearby second-year student. He stumbled back, clearing the view for Harriet and Addie.

  As she had said, there Felix was, creeping into the woods. It appeared that he’d snuck down the side of the school.

  Tucked under his arm was a bulky marble box, bigger than his torso.

  Addie could see the faint lines on the box, but couldn’t make out the symbols that they formed. She was too far away from Felix to recognise them.

  He slinked into the edge of the woods. The Videer Knights didn’t notice him. There weren’t enough of them to observe the entire area, and they were preoccupied with watching the students.

  “Isn’t that Noah?” asked Harriet.

  Addie squinted at the trees. Noah stepped out from behind a thick tree trunk and took the box from Felix. Noah turned, and scampered into the forest with the strange box.

  Silus whimpered in her arms. Addie’s softened gaze glanced down at the pup cradled against her bosom. “Shh,” she hushed gently. “We’ll find your mum, don’t worry.”

  Harriet stuck out her tongue at the wolf, but Addie didn’t notice.

  Her eyes had flickered back to Felix by the trees. Samael came sprinting down the side of the school. He almost collided with Felix before he skidded to a stop.

  “What are they up to?” wondered Addie aloud.

  “The usual,” murmured Harriet miserably. “Being major assholes. They should be here in the queue, like the rest of us. You know, I didn’t even have time to find my familiar. She’s probably running around the school, scared and alone.”

  Distractedly, Addie hummed.

  Samael and Felix had her full attention.

  The prince’s hands were balled into fists at his sides, and his eyes flashed with fury visible from even across the school grounds. Felix looked stunned; stunned and afraid.

  Their heads jerked in Addie’s direction. Both Felix and Samael looked directly at her. But, then their gazes merely passed over her and washed over the crowd of Vampires. Addie saw the tensing muscles work in Felix’s jaw as his gaze raked over the line of students. When he reached the end, he and Samael turned their focus to the Fae queue. They scanned the colourful students briefly, but didn’t find whatever they were looking for.

  Addie realised. They were looking for Ivy.

  “May I have your attention, children!” hollered Houseparent Rowena. “Please, be patient! We will head to the Springs in a few moments. In the meantime, I want each one of you to find a buddy. You and your buddy will not separate until after you both pass through the glittergate together.”

  Addie didn’t hear her.

  Her attention was solely focused on the edge of the woods. Slowly, her bulging eyes dragged down the trees to where the Fae were standing.

  “Do you want to be buddies?” asked Harriet.

  Addie said nothing. The fear that widened her widened eyes said it all. She merely gaped at the trees.

  “Hey,” snapped Harriet. “I’m talking to you.”

  Addie’s jaw slackened. Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open. Stumbling back, her arms tightened around Silus as he suddenly squirmed against her.

  Silus scrambled out of her hold and landed on the grass. He dashed away, but Addie didn’t care. Shakily, her arm raised and her finger pointed at the thick woods.

  “LOOK OUT!”

  Her shouts didn’t reach the Knights on time. The Fae weren’t warned. She’d been too late.

  Screams and shrieks tore through the night sky. The students burst into panic. They came bounding out of the woods, in all forms, shapes, and sizes.

  The Rebellion.

  Before the stunned teachers could even gather themselves and respond to the threat, the Shifters bounded toward them, separating, scattering. Chaos erupted.

  Shifter after Shifter poured out of the forest, hell-bent on blood.

  Teachers were tackled and ripped to shreds, students were chased in all directions, brave ones fought and resisted.

  But Addie just stood there in
shock. There were over a hundred Shifters plaguing the Academy grounds, killing, biting, tearing.

  Addie, hyperventilating, embraced the rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins. She snatched Harriot’s arm tightly and wrenched her through the ambush toward the forest.

  “What are you doing!” shrieked Harriet. “We’re going the wrong way! The evacuation point is down the path!”

  “We can’t go there!” screamed Addie. “We have to find Ivy!”

  They jumped out of the way just as a Shifter lunged at them.

  It was in the shape of an enormous, deformed dragon. Only its tail was alight with the flames that fired from its horns.

  Harriet landed on a rock and clenched her teeth from the agony. Addie helped her to her feet. “We can’t go to the evacuation point. It’s not working, we need to—argh!”

  Addie was thrown off her feet and sent flying through the air. With a crunch, she landed on the grassy ground. Wheezing wretchedly, she rolled onto her back and clutched her chest, where beneath her lungs constricted.

  A Vampire lay beside her, covered in blood, and without a head—the body that had collided with her.

  Panicked, Addie scrambled to her feet and searched for the attacker. A shadowy wraith, cloaked in tattered robes, hovered above the grass and stared her dead in the eye.

  Blood dripped from its circular mouth, which covered half of its face, and held a head; Provost Caesar’s head.

  Addie snarled at the beast instinctively, but quivered. The Shifter suddenly soared at her.

  A burst of pink and midnight blue erupted in Addie’s eyes. The wraith was tackled to the ground.

  River Ridge wrestled the howling monster fiercely.

  He slammed his hand onto the grass and summoned thorned vines from the earth.

  The earth ropes looped and coiled around the writhing wraith. River straddled its neck and clutched onto its head.

  A ferocious roar tore through his throat as he ripped the head off the beast’s body.

  Addie and Harriet stared at the pink Fae. He wiped blood off his face, jumped to his feet and winked at Addie.

  “You’re welcome,” he said smugly. And then he was gone, back into the battle.

  “C’mon,” ushered Addie breathlessly. She hauled Harriet to her feet and dragged her away. “After we find Ivy, we can go to the tunnels and get the hell out of here.”

  12.

  Yellow and white connected; malevolence and terror joined.

  The Shifter and Ivy simply stared at one another. Its thin, metal teeth dripped drool onto the carpet as it peered between its own legs at her. Its withering fingers wrapped around its own ankles. The creature almost appeared to grin before its jaw extended, stretching open like melted blood-toffee. It roared in her face.

  Ivy blinked.

  Beads of its foul saliva spurted onto her stunned face. Ivy erupted into shrieks of terror that ricocheted through the school.

  She turned and scrambled down the stairs.

  Her trembling legs could barely carry her. They tripped and wobbled beneath her with each stumble and leap.

  The rapid clamber of the beast thudded in Ivy’s ears. It wasn’t heavy or noisy, but it was quick and right behind her.

  Ivy was fast, but not fast enough to outrun an Abarimon.

  Ivy barely heard her own screams over the thunderous heartbeat pounding against her ribcage. It lunged at her, that beast that had been a person mere seconds ago. It crashed into her back, sending them both tumbling the stairs. Ivy’s skull cracked against the floor as they landed. The floppy limbs of the Abarimon were wrapped around her like vines.

  Its slender fingers twisted in Ivy’s hair and whacked her head back onto the floor. An explosion of pain erupted in her eyes; her vision, obscured by bursts of white dots, gazed at the beast in a daze.

  Crunch!

  It struck her again. A warmth spread over the base of her skull. Ivy smelled her own blood oozing from the wound.

  The creature held her down, coiled around her, and howled in her face.

  Rancid spit splattered onto her nose. Ivy heaved, a dry and wretched noise. The sound was cut off—the slinking creature wrapped its arm around her neck, and cut off her oxygen supply.

  Hooded eyes, fluttering in pain, slewed to the side. Her schoolbag lay on the second step, at arm’s length.

  Stretching out her hand, Ivy raked her fingernails down the fabric, trying to hook onto it. She grunted and reached closer. Her hand went limp. Her fingers twitched against the bag.

  The thing was killing her. She wondered, fleetingly, if it would tear off her head. That was the only way to truly kill her.

  It was succeeding.

  Her neck ached from the pressure of its hold, the bones inside quivering, ready to snap—

  Ivy readied her nails.

  They pointed, sharpened, and grew. She curved her fingers and lashed out at the thing on top of her.

  The nails sliced through its skin. She struck again.

  Its throat tore apart, and blood spurted from the gaping holes. The Abarimon screamed in agony, a haunting sound, and recoiled. Ivy bucked her hips, throwing the flimsy beast from her body.

  It crashed into the bannister, and its legs whirled, wrapping tightly around the wood.

  Ivy clutched her aching throat. Wheezing, she snatched her schoolbag and lurched down the corridor. The Abarimon had already begun to heal.

  The strap of Ivy’s schoolbag was frayed and threatened to snap at any given moment. She slung it over her shoulder and lurched onto an adjacent corridor.

  Her shoulder smacked against the wall, her legs threatening to give out beneath her. She needed magic. She needed Fae magic in her body as quickly as possible.

  Her wounds were too severe, the wood still protruded from her neck. If she didn’t heal, she would collapse and lose consciousness.

  Splaying her hand against the wall, she stumbled down the corridor. Her fingers pulsed against the empty walls, searching for power to drain.

  Ivy was thrown off her feet. She collapsed to the ground, face-first. It wasn’t the Abarimon on top of her. This thing smelled different, felt different.

  Ivy twisted her body and flung her legs up.

  Her bare feet kicked the new creature in the face, but it only whimpered.

  Ivy gawked at the animal.

  It was a night-tiger; black, like a panther, but with poisonous stripes marking its fur, and magnificent wings that stretched farther than the walls encasing it. Though, this particular night-tiger wore bubbling and gurgling skin, like that of a ghoul’s.

  Scrambling back, Ivy screeched at the top of her lungs. “SOMEBODY, HELP!”

  The abomination lunged at her. Its toothless jaws snapped at her face. Ivy swung her legs around its neck, and clenched. She heard it—the bones snapping, crunching, and breaking. Its black gums oozed tar onto her face. She jerked her legs and heard the final snap. The tiger went limp and wilted to the floor.

  Ivy simply stared at the dead Shifter. A hoarse sound escaped her; a sharp inhale sucking in through her teeth. She’d never killed anyone before. Not a real person. And that thing, even if the enemy, even if in creature-form, had been a person.

  Ivy vaguely heard footsteps. A heavy sound, like boots thudding against carpet. It came from behind her, but she heard only her breaking heart, shattering within her stiff body. Even if in self-defence, Ivy was a killer. The realisation didn’t strike her, but the realisation that she wasn’t remorseful did.

  Hands suddenly grabbed her arms and hauled her up.

  “Argh!” she shrieked wildly.

  The hands spun her around. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight. Coated in combat gear, covered in weaponry, was Domenic.

  Domenic was furious. There was no other way to describe it. His black eyes had transformed into pits of nothingness, smouldering with a promise of vengeance.

  “Are you all right?” he asked urgently. “Are you hurt?”

  Ivy touched her pur
ple throat.

  His eyes flashed at the bruises. His jaw clenched and he yanked a forked dagger from his belt. “We’ll get that healed once we’re out of here.” His gaze raked over her bare shoulder, assessing the small cuts and nicks.

  “I killed it,” she said blandly. Her hand gestured to the blistered tiger on the floor. “I had to.”

  Domenic didn’t spare the beast a glance. “We need to leave,” he said briskly. She didn’t get a chance to reply before she was hauled down the corridor toward the stairs. “The Rebellion has attacked.”

  “I figured,” she mumbled, staggering alongside him. “I saw a Shifter in the woods before the alarm. I knew it, Domenic. I told you I saw paw prints—”

  “Not once did I say I didn’t believe you,” he interrupted. “I promised I’d look into it. I never found any evidence, but I was clearly wrong.”

  If she wasn’t so frazzled and frightened, Ivy would have shot him a smug glance.

  “Why are they here?” she asked. “The Rebellion, what do they want?”

  “The crypts were breached,” he replied firmly, his attention on evacuating her, not chatting. “Whatever they came here for, they got it.”

  “But what is it that they’re after?” she asked.

  “Honestly, I have no idea,” he tersely replied.

  She glowered side-ways at him, bristled by his hostile attitude. “Why aren’t you with your people? If your crypts have been breached, shouldn’t you be—”

  “I am where I need to be.”

  His tone was sharp, but a small smile tugged at her lips. He chose to find her and ensure her safety in favour of his duties. He would be punished. There was no doubt about it.

  They reached the bottom of the stairs, and entered the hallway that led to the kitchens. Domenic steered her toward the brass door at the end of the corridor, but veered them into another passageway before they could reach the kitchens.