InkBorn (InkHaven Academy Book 2)

by Kenna Bardot

  I stepped onto the glider with a deep breath in and out, controlling my panic and casting my eyes over to where Docent Frost smirked at me cruelly. Making my way to the back was only natural, given that the last time I'd been in that glider he'd pushed me out of it.

  I ignored Pia's arrogant glance my way; the one that said I was somehow a coward for that twinge of residual fear that clung to me as the glider rose into the air. She didn’t understand. Undergoing the third-year version of the Final Trial the year before meant she hadn’t had the pleasure of being sent up the air in a glider and forced to jump.

  I resisted the urge to reach out and grab the framing of the glider, focusing on keeping my feet planted to the floor and avoiding eye contact. That was where I stayed for the remainder of the fortunately short flight.

  When we landed, we walked a bit before stepping onto the grass of a freshly-mowed lawn, walking up to lurk behind the garage as Frost motioned us all on.

  I had to stop myself from kissing the ground.

  "The sacrifice is the little Inked boy playing in the yard," he whispered, and I clenched my eyes shut. I'd known there would be a child and an adult to be sacrificed, an example of each of the types Assassins would encounter much like there were two types of tattoos people could have - the young one for those younger than sixteen and the adult one for those older.

  The child knew. The parents of the child knew.

  They all knew there was a chance it would be today. He could survive, as I had, and go on to live until his adult death date. Or he could be reborn, and given the opportunity to prove himself worthy of the Order in his next life. Like I inexorably had, like all of us watching him had.

  It didn't make it easier. Knowing what was coming made no difference.

  "For children especially, the goal is for it to be as quick and painless as possible. They shouldn't be made to feel fear, only the peace that comes with being embraced by Zeevar's light for rebirth, or the honor of being marked for Order duty," Frost explained. Even through his emotionless speech, I appreciated the humane process. It was the last thing I’d have expected from someone like him.

  He motioned us forward, and we hurried into the trees at the edge of the wood line. The evening dusk camouflaged us until we had more appropriate cover in the trees.

  "Waiting for the right opportunity is critical for the children. Don't rush it."

  We waited in silence, watching as the boy made his way closer and closer to the garage at the edge of the property. The windows were shut up, and only the small door next to the car door remained open.

  "Brody!" the boy's mother called out from the doorway to the house. "Bed in ten minutes."

  "Okay, mom," he returned, and the father stepped out from the house.

  He kissed the boy’s forehead.

  "Love you, kiddo," he murmured, dashing into the garage. The engine started up on a rough rev. The man left the car running and turned back to hurry into the house, leaving only the small door cracked open. A few minutes passed, and he didn't come back out as the car continued to run.

  I knew what was going to happen and though I was sure to get called on it, I turned around and shut my eyes.

  I didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see. The group was quiet around me, no doubt observing in rapt attention. I didn’t need to observe. I would never choose the Assassin’s path.

  Only a few moments later, Frost announced that it was done.

  We left then, because Frost’s job was complete. I shook with frustration, only wanting to be done with the night of torment.

  The entire reason we were there was because we were trying to figure out if we wanted to be Assassins.

  I already had my answer.

  If I had thought that we'd been silent at the start of our trip, you could not even hear us breathing as we rode in the glider once more. It should have helped knowing that the worst was beyond us, but I couldn't get rid of that pinching feeling squeezing at my chest. When we landed on the tarmac outside the mall, I couldn't have been more surprised. For a Mage, a Docent at that, to bring an entire class to observe a sacrifice in such a public place seemed quite unusual. We made our way into the mall, each of us dragging our feet as much as we could get away with. "Sitting to the right of the door, the man in the blue shirt," Frost instructed as he stared at the scroll in his hand. It glowed gold, and I knew that Frost was seeing something in it. I knew that feeling, understood it and somehow resented it as my eyes turned to observe the sacrifice’s profile. He sat in a restaurant, chatting amicably with what appeared to be a friend. It amazed me that people who knew today was their date could be so enthralled in what they were doing; so oblivious to the Mages around them.

  But he was.

  He had absolutely zero clue we watched him.

  Docent Frost gave no further instruction. A flick of his arrow in his fingers, and the man wheezed as he took a bite of his food. One hand flung out to grasp at the table, the other went to his throat. He frantically clawed at it, and while his friend looked horrified, no one stepped in to help.

  It was his day, and the tattoo behind his ear told all around him not to interfere.

  He collapsed back in his seat, going still.

  Gone.

  We went back to InkHaven in the glider. My emotions from the night were so churned up, that I could not even muster up any of my earlier fears. I’d seen something that much worse.

  Ten

  Kaia

  Emerson stood beside me, taking deep but steady breaths. I knew he tried to contain his fear for my sake, because he probably knew I was terrified enough for the two of us. I reached out a hand, taking his in mine in a rare expression of my affection for him. Or used to be rare, I should say. Showing affection was becoming more and more of a common occurrence for me as I came out of my grief.

  I’d been so carefully blank until Vali and Mar had managed to break through the fog surrounding me, but touch was something I needed more of - needed to give more of. I could only hope I could speak more eventually. But I knew Emerson needed the contact and the comfort. Especially on that day. He wasn’t unskilled in combat, but he abhorred the seemingly senseless violence that the Tumult represented. He hated any violence at all, in truth.

  I hated knowing how shadowing an Assassin during rebirth would break his heart- how completing the Loyalty Trial was sure to shatter his soul.

  But they were worries for another day.

  I turned to him and gave him a small smile. “We defend ourselves and protect each other,” I murmured. “Nothing more and nothing less.”

  His grin was tight, but he nodded empathically. “We protect,” he agreed, before eyeing the whip wound on my arm with a playful grin. “Are you ready for everyone to see you work with that finally?”

  I shrugged. “Gale seems to think so as I’m more bonded to it than I am my sword and to hide my strength is just a weakness at this point.”

  The room quieted as the Headmaster approached the edge of the dais. “The rules of the Tumult are simple. Be standing at the end of the thirty-minute timer. Should you fail in this endeavor, you are not a true Air Mage, and will be dealt with accordingly. As it is yearly, there is to be no use of Air in any form with the exception of calling your long-range weapons to return to you.”

  Docent Ho stepped to the front of the room next to the Headmaster.

  “Students.” She gave us all a brief nod. Behind her, Gale threw us a meaningful glance that drew a deep, comforting breath from me - settled in the knowledge that he would watch out for us both as best he could and still be a Docent. Docent Ho turned to nod to the Air Docents about the edges of the room, and knowing what would occur calmed me. There would be no surprises during this Tumult unlike the previous year’s.

  “You may begin,” she announced.

  The first years ducked and covered themselves with their arms, surprised by the suddenness of the attack - the noise and confusion caused by chaos. Emerson and I stood back to back, trusting
one another implicitly to protect our other half at all costs. My whip pulsed against my arm as I waited for someone to engage me, my sword in my left hand. Thinking of how inept I’d been with it using my dominant hand the previous year nearly made me chuckle, given that I was now better with it using my weak hand. Having a weapon in both hands, I had no shield this year but thought it a good tradeoff for me in that moment. I was more in the mood for offense rather than defense.

  The first person to attack me was an axe-wielding Albert Brown, one of the guys I’d had classes with for two months as a first year. No doubt he’d witnessed the pressure eat at me and my struggle the year before and thought me to be weak prey. The blade of my sword rang against his weapon with a loud clang amidst the harsh cacophony surrounding us. Holding it with everything I had, I let him focus on that - my frontal attack. The downfall of a two-handed weapon was that he was largely inhibited by that when combined with his height. He was less agile than me, and I proved it when I lifted my right leg and used my booted foot to shove him away forcefully. I wasn’t strong enough to kick him using sheer strength but since his arms were raised above his head and focused elsewhere, I took him by the surprise of it. He fell to his ass, his axe ringing against the floor. I sent him a victorious smirk and stepped back.

  A flying dagger sliced through the flesh of my thigh, but a quick glance confirmed it to be shallow enough to be irrelevant in the end. Brown glared at me, shaking his head and smiling, and I turned away to parry with a student I didn’t recognize. My sword slipped when he backed off halfway, slicing through the flesh of his forearm.

  First year.

  Only a first year hesitated to commit in that way. A first year who had not gotten his head wrapped around what he needed to do and what was expected of him.

  I’d have been there, would have been that, without Alec Gaius. Without Gale.

  I threw my head back to narrowly avoid the throwing dart that came my way, hissing towards my nose. I turned my attention to Pia where she stood smirking at me. I didn’t hesitate, throwing my whip her way to strike the high of her cheekbone just hard enough to draw blood.

  “Oops, sorry, Ramos. Should I give you a matching one on the other side? I know how much you like symmetry. I can use my sword so you can have a memento of both of my favorite weapons.” I gave her a smirk of my own, flicking my whip back to me and letting my Air curl it around my arm once more.

  She raised a hand to touch her fingers to the blood trickling down her cheek, twisting that perfect mouth into a scowl. “Bad move, Shaw. You don’t have your dick collection to protect you today.”

  I grinned at her, feeling nearly manic in my disgust and hatred for the hateful blonde. “Careful, Pia. Your jealousy is showing again.”

  Wella appeared in my peripheral vision, and I turned to block her attack with my sword a second too late. Before her dagger could connect with the flesh of my arm, Cel was there blocking the blow with his spear and glaring daggers at Wella as he inserted himself between us.

  “I don’t like bullies,” he said it in a cruel voice but moved so calmly one could almost believe he didn’t move at all.

  Wella turned a sickening smile his way. “Girls will be girls, Cel,” she cooed. Pia took the opportunity to try and disappear into the crowd. I wasn’t surprised, she had proven that she never fought when the odds were stacked against her. I wrapped my whip around her ankle and yanked to send her crashing to her face with a thud.

  “I’m sorry, that may not be symmetrical!”

  She threw a glare back at me with blood dripping from her nose as she scrambled to her feet and made her getaway. Cel, on the other hand, had Wella on her ass, his spear pointed at her chest. Even in that precarious position, she still lounged back as though seducing him.

  “Marcellus,” I called, and his eyes turned to me. “She’s not worth the attention you’re giving her. She might actually think you’d want to fuck her.” He smirked at me, that handsome face so breathtaking even in cruelty, and made an impressive show of twirling his spear around until it was parallel to his tall frame.

  “Where’d you leave Emerson?” he asked me calmly.

  My head swivelled around, and I saw he was quite a few feet away. “Oops. Seems I lost him.”

  Emerson sent me a thumbs-up, which seemed to just annoy the person he was fighting with who he easily drove off with two swords. After that, he bounced towards us, twirling his swords easily.

  The three of us lined up in a defensive position, ignoring Wella’s existence completely even as she huffed her annoyance at me.

  “You can’t claim them all.” She dusted off her skirt. With a quick flick of her wrist, she had three flying arrows downed using her weapon, and I could respect her fighting skill even as I abhorred who she was as a person.

  I gave her a sweet smile. “What makes you think I’ve claimed Marcellus?”

  “He protects you. Why else would he?”

  “Perhaps it is the other way around, and I am the one who has claimed Kaia,” Cel input, spinning his spear around and easily downing anything flying towards us.

  “Can’t be worth it.” She turned on her way.

  “Golden vagina!” I yelled out, making Emerson snicker in surprise. She turned a disgusted look back at me and shook her head before disappearing into the crowd of Airs. I relaxed on a deep exhale when she was gone. Handling myself against people who underestimated me was one thing, but fighting people who hated me the way those two women did was another story entirely.

  The next few minutes passed in relative peace, considering the mayhem surrounding us. Our wall presented too much of a challenge and no one was willing to try to penetrate it.

  A boom of Air was flung from the front of the room and all the flying weapons clattered to the floor. Docent Ho stood, knife in hand, the Headmaster beside her and leaning on his cane.

  Complete silence hung in the air, broken only by the heavy breathing of the students. The only one not left standing at the end was the first year who’d hesitated when fighting with me, and he wasn’t even conscious to know he’d failed the Tumult. The rest of us looked on in horror as he was carried out of the room. Fire Mages flooded into the room to heal any injuries sustained by the rest.

  Cel turned to me and crouched down to examine the wound on my thigh. Staring down at him, I found myself caught by the sight of those stunning hazel eyes on me. His fingers ripped my pants open further, and I lost the eye contact - jumping back from the intimate touch as his rough fingers caressed the skin around the cut.

  “It’s alright, Kai,” Emerson murmured, coming up behind me to wrap his arms around my waist in support. “Just let him make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine,” I hissed, jerking away when Cel touched my skin again.

  “She’s right. It shouldn’t scar, even without a Fire Mage.” Cel nodded as he stood. He ran a hand through his dark blond hair, shrugging it out of his face with a seductive smile. “I wouldn’t risk marring that creamy skin, so you best believe I’m positive of that fact, Emers.”

  Emerson chuckled, his chest vibrating against my back. “I believe you, Cel, knowing how much you like smooth, creamy skin.”

  “Let’s go, you slut,” I teased, taking Emerson’s hand in mine and tugging him to leave. We passed Pia, who was forcing her way into the direct attention of a Fire Mage to be healed before those with much more pressing injuries.

  “Did poor Pia get a boo-boo and is scared she’d be stuck with it forever?”

  “Not all of us are content with having a deformed face, Shaw.” She snarled at me, but winced as she did. I was pretty sure I’d broken her nose.

  I feigned a wounded look in response. “Oh, I’m sure. Couldn’t have your face matching how hideous you are underneath it all, could you? Then who in their right mind would fuck you?” I asked sweetly, feeling Cel’s presence at my back as he closed in.

  “Vali didn’t seem to mind what I looked like underneath it all.” She grinned at me, b
arely acknowledging the Fire Mage who set to healing the small cut on her cheek. A blue fire lit up as well, fixing her nose back up.

  “If he liked it so much, then why’d he throw it away like yesterday’s trash?” I retorted. Cel chuckled, wrapping an arm around my waist and lifting me from my feet easily when Pia lunged for me with her claw-like nails. He set me to my feet just slightly behind him, turning his attention back to the seething woman in front of him.

  “You do not lay a single finger on her. Do you understand me, woman?”

  “Gods, you’re still Vali’s lapdog aren’t you?” Pia shrieked. “You’ll never be anything but his shadow, his sidekick.” As soon as the Fire Mage finished with her, she stormed off with an exaggerated flip of her hair. A couple men gathered around her as she went, and I noted them for the future.

  “She’s such a bitch,” I sighed.

  “Si, bella. She’s a puttana.” I laughed as Emerson made wide sexy eyes at Cel’s use of Italian vernacular. He held my hand and I let him guide me from the room with Cel trailing at our heels.

  Another day, another shadow.

  ✽✽✽

  The last thing I was in the mood for was another party. But I was not one to turn my back on tradition. Besides, Emerson just pestered me about it until I broke down and said I would go. So I found myself shoved into a dress Lottie had picked for me earlier that year - which meant hot, short and slinky - heels on my feet and teetering at the edge of the party with Emerson at my side.

  We both didn’t say much, simply enjoyed one another’s presence. Sadly, the music pulsing around me only served to remind me of the fact that Lottie had been with me at the last party I’d attended, enjoying flirting and seducing a man or two to take them from the two bitches. Emerson had even suggested that we grab something more substantial to eat from the kitchens before the party, but I’d refused - I’d gone with Lottie to the kitchens before that last party too. It was our thing. That had been the last day I’d had the true Lottie. The Lottie I’d had after that was only a shell of what she’d been before.