The Forsaken Saga Complete Box Set (Books 1-4)

by Sophia Sharp

  “But mom’s talking to the headmaster,” I protested. He shook his head.

  “I doubt it’s going to do any good. I talked to him already.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “Just like I said. He explained how it’s the school’s policy not to allow anybody but the students onto Traven Island.”

  “But why?”

  My dad shrugged. “Beats me. Although I suspect it has something to do with their sense of liabilities over the students’ welfare.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I think it has to do with the way they run the school. It’s on a very small island, after all. If there were tourists or visitors always coming to check out the school grounds, well, it might take away from the students’ experience.”

  “But you’re not tourists!” I emphasized. “You’re my parents.”

  “Even more to the point,” my dad replied stiffly. “If they were to make an exception for us, well, they’d have to start making exceptions for everyone’s parents. And pretty soon, the entire island would be overrun—especially during move-in week. At least, that’s what the headmaster told me.”

  “And you couldn’t tell him anything to change his mind?”

  “Trust me, honey. I tried. But, he was set on not allowing a single exception.”

  “That’s why Vlad ran back to the boat, isn’t it?” I asked, that sinking feeling in my stomach returning.

  “He’s starting the engines now,” dad said. “That’s why I don’t think anything your mother says or does is going to influence the way things are turning out.”

  “Although you have to applaud her for trying,” I said somewhat awkwardly, in a stiff attempt to make a joke. My dad must have sensed my unease, because right at that moment he took a step forward and put his arms around me in a big hug.

  “I’m going to miss you when you go, Tracy.”

  “I know, dad.”

  Chapter Two – A Rocky Start

  I stood at the back of the boat, my hands gripping the cold, metal railing. In the distance were the shapes of both my parents, huddled against the outside of the car, waving enthusiastically to me. For a few seconds, the uniform trail of the boat’s wake caught my eye. When I looked back, my parents were gone, hidden by the cloud of fog that we had just steered into.

  I shivered, and not because of the cold. Leaving my parents at the shore was not how I expected to start my new life. And yet here I was, more or less completely alone on an unfamiliar – not to mention rocky – boat.

  I turned around to take in my surroundings. The boat I was on was small, yes, but it was also old. Every heave through the waves caused the entire hull to groan under the pressure. It wasn’t a particularly reassuring sound. Moreover, the way the thick fog blanketed everything more than twenty feet away did not help calm my nerves.

  Vlad was inside the main cabin, steering the small boat toward Traven Island. At least, that’s where I hoped he was going. In this thick fog, I didn’t doubt that one could get very lost in these waters, especially if he didn’t know precisely where he was going. But Vlad had apparently made this trip dozens of times, as he informed me, rather brusquely, when he was directing me where to put my luggage when I first climbed onboard.

  I sighed, and walked the short distance to the cabin. Opening the door, I slipped inside. It was a small room. A single light bulb hung from an otherwise bare ceiling, and two round windows were built into the side walls. A circular staircase in one corner led to the second level, where all the steering equipment was. From where I stood, I could hear the faint but staticky sounds of an AM radio talk show through the ceiling. I couldn’t make out what the host was saying, but I had a slight suspicion that the host might be speaking in a different language. It didn’t matter. All that I wanted to focus on was getting to school, where I could settle in and forget about the misadventure that was the start of my new school year.

  The boat heaved heavily to one side. I yelped in surprise and nearly lost my footing. Thankfully, I was able to catch a hold of the wall to prevent myself from falling over. The boat leaned the other way, then righted itself slowly and kept moving forward. I stared wide-eyed around the room. If I had been outside, close to the railing, when that happened…

  Shaking my head, I made my way cautiously to the plastic seats bolted to the side wall and sat down. They were sturdy enough, and felt like they were built to withstand anything this small boat might steer into.

  Glumly, I looked at the two suitcases strapped to the handrail of the circular staircase. After stuffing an SUV full with my belongings, those two suitcases were all I had been able to bring. Vlad was in a hurry, and pointed out that, whatever I brought on board, I’d have to bring off board by myself, without any additional help, when we got to Oliver Academy. And so, the idea of bringing even a quarter of everything that my parents and I had packed into the old car quickly fizzled out, to be replaced by the harsh reality that I could only take with me an amount equal to what I would pack for a two-day sleepover.

  So, those two suitcases represented everything I now possessed of my past life. Inside were clothes, mostly, yet not enough for even a full week. My laptop was also somewhere in there, as was my trusty iPod, which had been with me for more than five years. Everything else I wanted to bring – sheets, pillows, notebooks, scrapbooks, pens, drawings, journals, books, posters, rugs, and whatever else I had deemed essential – was still in my parents’ car, waiting to make the long drive back home. I sighed. This was definitely not the auspicious start to a new school year that I had been hoping for.

  “Little girl!” I heard Vlad yell from upstairs in his harsh accent. That was what he had taken to calling me, for whatever reason, from the moment the boat left its mooring. Not Tracy, not Miss Bachman, not anything else, but little girl. It was patronizing and demeaning at the same time. “Little girl, do you like some food?”

  “Oh! Uh… No, thank you,” I replied, caught off-guard by the unexpected question.

  “What?” Vlad yelled back down. “Speak up! I barely hear ye from up here!”

  “I said, no thank you!” I called back to him, louder this time. I didn’t hear anything back for a few moments, and started to wonder if he had heard me at all…

  “Suit yerself!” he called down to me. “I’m jus’ the captain, and all I’m to do is bring ye there in one piece. Not my fault if you starve before we get there.”

  Starve? It’s not like we were taking a trip across the Atlantic, for crying out loud. At that moment, however, my stomach rumbled loudly, almost as if it were mocking me for rejecting Vlad’s offer of nourishment.

  “How much longer until we get to shore?” I called up. Again, I had to wait a few moments before his response.

  “What? I can’t hear ye, girl. You best come up here if you be makin’ conversation!”

  I sighed, and pushed myself up. I wanted to know how long I would have to endure the nauseating rocking of the boat. Sitting by myself waiting for it to end seemed like one of the worst ways to spend my time. If I knew how long this trip was, at least then I could start counting down the minutes to my arrival.

  Carefully, using the walls for support, I edged my way over to the bottom of the staircase. The boat hadn’t tilted harshly since the first time it nearly threw me off my feet, but I didn’t want to take my chances, either. I reached the stairs, and, holding onto the metal rail tightly, climbed up to the second level.

  There, I found Vlad standing behind the panel of a wide, complicated looking control counter. It stretched from wall to wall. All along it were literally hundreds of knobs and switches and lights—none of which I recognized. I noticed a dark radar screen off to one side. A fluorescent green line swept across it in a circular motion every few seconds, updating the display.

  Vlad must have heard me coming up, because right as I climbed up the final step, he turned around to look back. The entire upper cabin smelled like smoke, and I saw now that it was because he h
ad a thick cigar clenched between his teeth.

  “Ahh, the little girl decide to come up. Yes?” he asked in a way I thought might be friendly, for him. “Well, come on here and look outside. Yer sure to get a better view than fightin’ the fog down below.”

  I followed his gaze out through the main window in front of him, and was surprised to see the rays of the sun showing through the cloud of mist. While it didn’t mean that visibility was any better than it was on the lower level, seeing the sun’s rays made the whole ship feel slightly less depressing.

  “I was just wondering,” I began, “how long the trip to Traven Island is going to take?”

  “Ah, feeling a little seasick, are we?” Vlad asked with a mocking edge to his voice.

  “No!” I defended. “I feel fine. I just wanted to know how far away the island is from mainland, that’s all.”

  “Oh, well if that’s all ye want…” Vlad looked back at me and raised an eyebrow, and, when he saw that I didn’t shift, continued on, “…I tell you the trip’ll take no more than another two hour.”

  “Two hours?” I exclaimed, feeling completely incredulous. From what I had seen on the maps, the island was definitely closer to shore than that. “How can it take so long? There’s no way it should take that long! The island’s only a few miles from the coast!”

  “Ah, in a straight path, maybe,” Vlad answered ominously, “but these be rocky waters. And in this fog, there be no telling exactly where we is. Best be careful, that’s how I like to steer. We be takin’ the long way around.”

  “The long way?”

  “Aye. Around the rocks, away from the shallow sea. You want to get there in one piece, don’t ye?”

  “Well, yes…”

  “Then the long way’s all ye can expect from me. I promis’d ‘em I’d get ye there in one piece, and that’s what I intend t’do.” He nodded triumphantly to himself. “Truth be told, there ain’t nobody who should be sailin’ out in this fog. There’s no telling where you be, even with the most sophisticated equipment.” He tapped the screen of the radar with one finger, and drew another puff from his cigarette. “This thing be all but useless to me right now. It doesn’t tell where the dangerous zones are. Not at all. Right now, the only way to steer is t’follow yer instinct.”

  I gulped. “Your instinct?” That definitely wasn’t the most reassuring thing he could have said. “You mean, the way you’re steering the boat right now, is just based on your—”

  “My instinct.” Vlad nodded at me. “That be the only way to get you there on time, but to do it we gotta take the long way around. So that’s what it’ll be.”

  “Well… I should probably get going then,” I said, feeling quite unnerved by what I’d just been told. “I wouldn’t want to distract you from your work.”

  “Nonsense!” Vlad interjected. “It’s good fer me t’have some company up here.” He smiled stupidly at me. Just at that moment an enormous wave crashed into the side of the boat. The whole cabin lurched violently to one side, and I cried out as I was flung into the air. Desperately, I tried to shield myself from the oncoming impact. But I was moving too fast. My head hit the edge of something, and I blacked out.

  ~~

  I was lying somewhere hard. The surface was absolutely frigid, and the cold seeped through my jeans and jacket like they weren’t even there. I tried to open my eyes, but the light that rushed in sent piercing pain across my temples. I groaned. My head hurt, and my body felt as if it had thawed after spending half a century cryogenically frozen.

  “She’s up!” someone whispered excitedly to my left. I heard the shuffling of feet, and a door open and close, as the person left. The draft that came through the doorway in that brief moment chilled me even more.

  Where am I? Getting an orientation on things was difficult, especially when all my senses were being overloaded like one of those science-fair toothpick buildings straining under too much weight. Just an ounce more, and the whole thing would collapse. That’s kind of how I felt. Any more stimulation, and I would fade back into the abyss of darkness from which I just emerged. I took a slow, deep breath.

  Surprisingly, the salty air I had been expecting was gone. In its place was a very flat, very sterile smell. I was somewhere else, then… somewhere inside. Away from the coast.

  I tried to open my eyes again under the bright overhead lights. This time – being prepared for the shock of the pain – I was surprised when there wasn’t any. The piercing that shot across my skull the last time, had vanished. I smiled laconically. At least that was an improvement.

  It still took a few moments for my eyes to focus on the surroundings. The first thing I saw was the ceiling overhead. And, surprisingly, there was no spotlight shining down on me – as I had believed the first time I had opened my eyes. The room was quite dim. A single floor lamp standing in the corner provided the only illumination. I wondered how badly I had been concussed to have experienced such hypersensitivity when I first awoke.

  Twisting my head from side to side, I saw that I was in a small, tightly crammed room. To my left, less than four feet away, was a short row of three hard plastic seats which ended at the doorway. To my right, less than a foot away, was a wall with a single window carved into it. The drapes were wide open, and it was pitch black outside. From where I lay, I could see the reflection of my legs in the dark glass. Remarkably, they were covered with a thick blanket. Despite the weight of the cloth, it felt like there was nothing there. My body was cold. Apparently, no amount of layers could alleviate that discomfort.

  The door beside the row of chairs swung open, and a bright flood of light from outside shone in on me. I squinted and turned away instinctively. I heard somebody come in.

  “Miss Bachman?” a strong voice asked. “My name is Doctor John Frame. I have been watching over your condition since you arrived.”

  I moved my arms to cover my ears – He was speaking so loudly! – but stopped halfway. There was something about his voice that caught my attention. After taking a second to process it, I realized that he was whispering – which meant he was likely well aware of my sensitivity to sound. But there was more to it than that. His voice was smooth, calming… therapeutic, even. I turned my head to look over at him – and had to forcibly suppress a gasp.

  The doctor was young. Not young like early-forties or mid-thirties, but young like fresh-out-of-med-school young. And he was also absolutely handsome. His straight, black hair lay haphazardly on his head as if he hadn’t had the time to tame it this morning. Dark, heavy-set eyes of indistinguishable color gave him the look of someone very trustworthy. In them was a wisdom that belied his youth. His jaw wasn’t particularly heavy or deep-set, as is usually the case with very handsome men, but rather somewhat delicate. A light brush of stubble on his cheeks and chin made his face more rugged. His mouth sat squared perfectly under an elegant nose.

  “Miss Bachman?” he asked hesitantly. “Are you alright?”

  “Ah… it’s the light,” I stumbled, trying vainly to cover up the fact that I had been gaping at him. “It hurt my head a bit. I’m not used to it.”

  Doctor Frame smiled, and gently closed the door. I felt my heartbeat increase. It was now just me and him in the small room.

  “Is that better?” he asked softly. “Should I turn down the lamp?”

  “No, that’s fine.”

  “Good, then. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m… alright,” I said, not wanting to lie to the doctor but not willing to alarm him, either. “My head kind of hurts, and light… and any noise… makes it all worse.”

  “Hmm,” Doctor Frame intoned, taking a step closer to my bed. “Well, you did suffer quite a severe concussion. Those symptoms are to be expected.”

  “Severe? How bad is it?”

  “Nothing that you won’t recover from in the next few days, I don’t think. But we have to keep you in the clinic until then.”

  “Is that where I am? I thought this was a hospital.”
>
  To my surprise, the doctor laughed. I was taken aback, at first, but then realized that he was laughing gregariously, rather than derisively. “No, we don’t have any hospitals on the island. The closest one is back on the mainland.” He smiled reassuringly at me. “But don’t worry. I’ve seen to it that you’ve gotten all the proper care here.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said slowly, trying to think back to what happened. My last memories were of saying goodbye to my parents by the car. There was nothing after that. I wasn’t even quite sure where it was I said goodbye. “You said we’re on an island?”

  Doctor Frame nodded. “That’s right. Traven Island.”

  A flood of memories rushed back to me. I had said goodbye to my parents near the ferry dock, when we found out they couldn’t come with me to my new school. And the ferry I had boarded in the deep fog was little more than a boat, captained by a small, not particularly competent looking man. Then there was a storm, and a wave crashed into the side of the boat, at which point I slammed my head…

  “I’m at school!” I exclaimed, and tried to push myself up. For some reason, though, my body didn’t want to cooperate. All my limbs felt tired, as if I had just run a twenty-four-hour marathon. And I was still cold. My effort to sit up in bed amounted to little more than some weak squirming. It was pitiful.

  I felt warmth on my hand, and looked to see that the doctor had placed his hand reassuringly over mine. My heart skipped a beat. “Yes, you’re at school,” he reassured me. “I need you to relax. The injuries you suffered weren’t at all minor, and you’ll need to rest to recover your strength.” He withdrew his hand, and I felt the momentary pang of loss.

  “Do my parents know what happened?” I asked. I would have expected them to be here in this little room if they did.

  Doctor Frame frowned, looked down at his notepad absently, and traced his finger along the side of the page. “Ah… it says here that they haven’t been contacted yet. The school has a very firm privacy policy when it comes to student welfare and wellbeing. In your case, since the injuries you sustained weren’t life-threatening, it’s your discretion whether your parents should be contacted or not.”