by Brenda Trim
A smile crept over his mouth at her familiar snark. “I see that. How do we get out of here?”
“Since when have you been able to manipulate minds?” she asked instead of answering his questions.
“I just noticed it today,” he replied. “But I don’t think I was manipulating anyone.”
He heard the rattle of bars. “You did. I felt your power seep into me, and I saw how you had control over Gullvieg for a second. Do you think you can get control of her and make her release us?”
Ryker laid his head against the stone wall and took a deep breath. His head pounded and his body ached, but the fog that encroached earlier seemed to have dissipated entirely. “I doubt I will be able to do much besides toss my lunch. What the fuck did she give me?”
“I see your sunny disposition has remained as cuddly as ever, Prince Charming. Stop being a baby and get over yourself. Be glad she didn’t give you the potion that looks and smells like tar. That crap messes you up like none of the others,” Maurelle shot back at him making him smile.
Only she could manage to make him smile and lighten the mood when they were being held prisoner by a psychopath in a musty dungeon.
“I have no idea what I did earlier. I panicked when she caught me in the restricted section of the library and tried to convince her not to hurt me. I know it worked to some extent because she told a guard she didn’t need help. I have you to thank for losing what control I had.”
“What can I say? I’m talented. When she comes back, I know not to say anything and you won’t be shocked into letting go of her mind or whatever,” Maurelle told him. “Seriously though. You need to get that skill back like now. She likely won’t be back until tomorrow, but the guards will serve meals later, so you can practice on them.”
“I will get us out of here unharmed,” he vowed. He would practice every second until he mastered the skill if he had to. No way was he going to leave Maurelle or himself in this fucked up dungeon.
Chapter Thriteen
“What the fuck, bro? What happened?” Brokk blurted the second Ryker entered the dorm room.
Ryker ran a hand down his face fighting the fatigue that threatened to drag him down. He’d just been released from the dungeon after a long fucking night of misery. Gullvieg wanted to teach him a lesson, but all she managed to do was piss him off and make him more determined to stop her treachery.
He hoped to be the one to get them out of the dungeon. In the end the Bitchtress had returned and released them trusting they’d learned their lesson after spending a night in filth and squalor.
“She took me to teach me a lesson,” Ryker replied, keeping his eyes off the others. He trusted Brokk enough to share what actually happened, but he had no idea what the others thought, so he didn’t give them more details.
“Looks like you’ve been through the ringer,” Sol observed.
Ryker chuckled without mirth. “You could say that. It wasn’t a picnic in the park.”
“Watch your back, bro,” Daine added. “Students are pissed at you. Gullvieg announced at dinner last night that thanks to your exploits in the restricted section of the library everyone had mandatory gardening.”
“Yeah,” Brokk said as he flexed his fingers with a grimace. “Even the earth Fae worked themselves to the bone. I had no idea the brambles were so damn dangerous.”
“Brambles?” Ryker clarified as his heart sped up. Everyone was going to hate him after being forced to do manual labor. No one would see the Headmistress as the enemy. They would all see Ryker’s foolish stunts as the reason they were forced to do the work.
“She had us fucking pulling weeds, dude,” Sol explained with a shake of his head. “Along and inside the brambles.”
“Those thorns will slice you open from gut to groin,” Daine complained as he picked at a scab on his forearm that ran the entire length.
“The earth league couldn’t magic them away?” Pulling weeds was the last thing he ever imagined them being forced to do. It was a simple problem the earth students and faculty should have been able to solve.
“Wasn’t possible. She magicked them or something. Spells rolled off without making even one disappear,” Brokk muttered.
Sol slapped him on the back. “That bitch has to be the most powerful Fae in all of Mag Mell. Don’t piss her off again. Okay?”
Ryker nodded his head and closed his eyes against the momentary dizziness. The last twenty plus hours seemed like they had lasted a week. It felt good to be back inside the dorm with his friends.
Despite the warnings, Ryker didn’t think they were telling him out of their own anger, but from concern for him. Meeting these males was chance, but developing a lasting friendship was up to him.
“Thanks for the support. In this fucked up place it’s nice to know I have someone at my back,” Ryker confessed.
“Too many Fae are only out for themselves,” Sol said as he sat on the couch in the main living room. “My parents told me that’s not how it used to be. I would like to know what that’s like again.”
“True that,” Daine muttered as he took a seat as well. Ryker considered it, but knew once he was down, he wouldn’t get up for a while. “What do you say we go into the Edge this weekend for some ale?”
“I’m broke,” Brokk interjected. “Ever since being forced here I haven’t been working, and my dad doesn’t make enough to supplement me in any way.”
“I’m broke, too,” Ryker agreed. “We should petition to be able to work part-time while attending classes.”
“That’d defeat the purpose, dipshit,” Sol blurted. “Our powers are out of control and a danger to society, remember?”
Ryker recalled when his fire got out of control last night as he was trying to pick the lock. He’d nearly killed he and Maurelle in those small cells. It was difficult to think about the fact that they were there to learn discipline and control, not only over their abilities, but also their elements.
Accidents happened all the time. It was the skill of the professors that kept the academy in one piece and running smoothly. Gullvieg could be credited with manipulating and brain washing the students, but that was about it.
”We might not be able to get an ale, but we can go into the Edge for a change of scenery,” Ryker suggested.
“Sounds good to me. After this week, I need to get away from this place,” Brokk admitted.
”I’m going to go shower,” Ryker told them before he went into his room and grabbed his soap and toothbrush. “I’ll be right back.”
They waved him away as they continued talking about a group of females they’d worked beside yesterday and how they could convince them to join their group for the trip into the Edge.
Lost in thought, Ryker walked down the hall and entered the male’s communal shower. The room was noisy with several finishing cleaning up. Placing his basket of toiletries on a counter, Ryker leaned inside a stall and turned on the water.
His body was still stiff, but he was too eager to get clean to worry about the discomfort of taking his clothes off. It was difficult, but he managed to remove his clothes and climb into the shower. Once under the spray, he let his head fall forward as the hot water pounded his back.
With his eyes closed, he reached down and picked up the bottle of soap. He’d just squirted it into his palm when cold air hit his body. His eyes flew open and he snarled at the group of males standing outside his shower stall.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Get out,” he demanded. His heart raced in his chest, and dread filled his mind. This group didn’t stumble into the wrong stall. They were pissed and were going to take it out on him.
“You’re what’s wrong with us,” the blonde male in the front announced with a sneer. His eyes raked over Ryker’s muscular frame as if taking stock. The curl to his lips told Ryker he didn’t find him intimidating at all.
“I don’t want any trouble,” Ryker said as he lowered his hands to his sides.
“You should have thought of that when you went
and pissed Gullvieg off,” the ringleader countered.
“Yeah,” another added. “Because of you we had to pull fucking weeds and get cut up.”
“That wasn’t my fault,” he denied. “If you have a problem you need to take it to the Headmistress. I never asked her to punish anyone else.”
“Like we give a shit. You were off on some holiday while we were working,” a male at the back of the group spoke up.
Ryker’s gaze shifted left then right, assessing the situation. He was in a small three by three stall with a glass door where the males were threatening him. The sides were plaster or stone covered in tile, and the only weapon he had was a bottle of soap.
“Get out of my way,” Ryker growled as he took a step forward.
That was the wrong thing to do, he thought as all hell suddenly broke loose. A comb, toothbrush and several bottles of soap sailed toward his head in the next heartbeat.
Bringing his arms up, he was able to deflect some objects, and even managed to send one careening into the leader’s face. With a shout, the male lowered his torso and barreled toward Ryker.
Startled by the sudden action, he threw a fist up and hit the male in the head. Unfortunately, all that did was make him madder. The four males right behind the leader reached past his body, trying to grab hold of Ryker.
Ryker kicked out and managed to hit something, but he had no idea if he did any damage and couldn’t stop to find out. Several fists flew toward him at once, making him back into the stall.
The water turned ice cold, but never cut off. The leader shoved Ryker when he was mid-step and he lost his balance. His shoulder and the upper part of his wing smacked into the tile with a hard blow. Pain spiraled down his side and his hand went numb for a second.
Chancing a look behind the leader and his best buddies, Ryker noticed most of the group stood outside the stall watching. No way was he going to escape that way. His body sailed to the left as a hard fist caught his side.
Ryker swore he heard a cracking sound right before he suddenly struggled to breathe. Gasping, Ryker called any power he could and shoved it toward the males in front of him.
The amount of power that filled his body when he opened to the elements surpassed what he expected in his current physical state. He pushed a pulse of it out of his body. The force of it blew everyone back. Bodies tumbled over each other and slammed into the walls.
Ryker took a step out of the shower, willing to run naked to his dorm, but he didn’t make it very far. A male grabbed him by the back of the head and slammed it down onto the counter outside the stall.
Stars dotted his vision after he hit the marble. Warm liquid trickled down his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. With wild fists, he punched anything he could. Problem was the blood made it impossible to get a good read on where the males were.
Fists hit his stomach, shoulders and kidneys. It felt as if someone sliced through his wings while pulverizing the bones. He was overwhelmed very quickly and could do nothing but crouch on the floor and curl into as much of a ball as possible.
For the hundredth time he wished he had clothes on to add one more barrier around his body. Anything to minimize the damage to his body.
Boots hit his back and the arms he pulled over his head. His body was kicked across the floor between males like they were playing soccer with him. The pain from Gullvieg was nothing compared to the agony trailing through every cell.
At some point, his arms went slack and left his head exposed. He recalled a hard kick to the back of his skull that cut off his thoughts about the fact that he’d ever been so hated in his entire life. He was going to die naked on a dirty bathroom floor. What a fucking nightmare, he thought. A second later blackness took over and his last coherent thought was whether he’d see his mom or Maurelle or his friends again.
Maurelle wrung her hands as she climbed the stairs. ‘You’re being ridiculous and needy. That’s unattractive.’ she told herself for the tenth time.
Several minutes before she had been inside her room pulling on a pair of sweatpants when her chest twisted. Pain registered for a split second before it disappeared. It was the oddest experience of her life and made her wonder if it was caused by something Gullvieg had done to her.
The only person she could ask about it was Ryker. He’d been through some of the same torment as her which was the only reason that she was heading to his room at that second.
As she got to the floor above hers, several males hurried out of the bathroom congratulating each other on a job well done. “Seriously, dude. You showed him who’s boss,” one male called out.
Males were strange creatures. It was a wonder males and females ever got together, she thought. The sexes thought about things so differently.
As she continued walking, she realized Ryker’s differences were some of the things she liked best about him. When she reached his room, she knocked on the door.
“Hey, beautiful,” Brokk greeted her. “Did you miss me?”
A smile spread over her mouth, but her stomach still churned and cramped. “So much it hurt,” she teased him.
He tossed his head back and laughed. “What brings you here?”
“Ryker. Is he around?”
Brokk looked down the hall behind her with a furrowed brow. “No. He went to shower half an hour ago.”
Her heart skipped several beats ad started racing. “Does he primp that much?”
Brokk was walking out the door with Sol and Daine following. Maurelle kept pace with them. “He never primps or wastes time in the bathroom.”
“Something isn’t right,” she muttered.
“Why do you say that?” Sol asked.
Her mind immediately recalled what she heard those males saying when they left the bathroom. “I heard some males boasting about teaching someone a lesson,” she told them as she started running.
She didn’t give a damn that she barreled into the males’ bathroom. She had to see if he was okay. Her feet skidded to a stop and a scream left her throat. Ryker was on the bathroom floor covered in blood.
Hurrying to his side, she fell to her knees and lifted his head to her lap. Her fingers shook as she pressed them into the pulse on his neck.
“Fuck,” three male voices barked at once. Then Brokk was at her side. “Is he alive?”
She lifted her tear-filled eyes and met Brokk’s stunned gaze. “His heart is beating, but barely. What the hell happened?”
“Do you remember who did this to him?”
Maurelle grabbed a shirt and pressed it into a wound seeping blood on his head. Nodding, she hiccupped as the tears fell freely. “I can identify them. We need to get him help. Daine, go down to my room and tell Calla to get up here now.”
Daine took off running as Sol crouched and pressed a towel to his abdomen. His entire body was black and blue, and he had major cuts that bled freely. She’d never seen a worse sight and tried to calm down. There was no hope for her to take a deep breath and be able to take charge. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath and she had this clawing need to stop the bleeding.
Ryker couldn’t die, she chanted in her mind over and over again. Her chest tightened and she couldn’t quite catch her breath. The urge to wring her hands was nearly overwhelming. She wondered if he experienced something similar when he’d rushed her from the sewers after vampires attacked her.
“Shouldn’t we take him to the infirmary?” Sol asked as he looked up at her.
“He won’t make it,” Maurelle replied right as Calla, one of her dormmates and Daine returned.
“What happened?” Calla whispered as her face lost all color.
“He was attacked. We need your help,” Maurelle told Calla. Calla was the closest thing she had to a female friend. They studied in the living room together often and got along well, unlike the others living there.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she screeched.
“All I need you to do is heal him enough so we can move him and take him to
Titania,” Maurelle explained.
Calla knelt down next to him and her hands fluttered over his body. It was clear she was losing her shit and going to be no good in about two seconds flat.
“Don’t think about anything but calling up your healing powers,” Maurelle ordered her. “Place your one hand on his chest and the other on his head then close your eyes. You can heal enough to save his life.”
Maurelle had no idea what she was saying, but she knew the heart and the brain were the most important organs in the body.
“I can’t, Maurelle. It’s too much. I’ve never even managed to heal a paper cut. How am I supposed to help him?”
Maurelle heard the hysterical note in Calla’s voice and tried to keep her voice calm. “You can do this, Calla. I believe in you. Your healing is a part of you. Not some skill you have to learn. I know you haven’t had time to learn enough to make his injuries go away. All we need to do is stop the bleeding enough to save his life. That’s it. You can do this. You have to.”
Nodding, Calla licked her lips and took a deep breath. “I’ll try.”
With her hands on Ryker’s head and chest, Calla tapped into her power. The room was silent, everyone holding their breath while Calla did what she could. The building shook as she used her powers, but she didn’t stop.
The lights flickered, the water started in all the sinks and showers and the tiles became unmoored on the bathroom walls. Glancing around frantically, she wasn’t sure what to think when a gasp made a scream escape her mouth. It was Ryker. He was breathing again. The movement wasn’t smooth, but choppy and ragged.
Brokk knelt at Ryker’s head and Sol stayed at his feet. “We’re going to take him to the medical ward now,” Brokk told her.
She watched as they gently lifted him from the ground. Maurelle grabbed a towel and placed it over his groin and followed them out the door. His vibrant wings were dull and hung in bloody tatters from his back.
The second she entered the hall, she searched for the culprits. Several males stood outside a room with smug looks on their faces. She lunged for them and punched the one in the front in the face.