Rule 9 Academy Series Boxset: Books 3-5 Young Adult Paranormal Fantasy (Rule 9 Academy Box Sets (3 Book Series) 2)

by Elizabeth Rain

  “What is it, Lucas?” Wendy asked softly.

  He gave a confused shrug and frowned. “That was the infirmary. They just took in three new patients. Two are Other and one first-level sorcerer.”

  We nodded. “And?” Wendy encouraged.

  “Seems the Other are having difficulty changing to their alternate forms? And the Sorcerer can’t even conjure a match. Something has happened to their Magic.”

  I met Nick’s frown with one of my own. Uh Oh.

  Our vacation was over.

  #

  Book V~Dragon of Deep Lake

  CHAPTER ONE

  The October breeze bit deeply, raising goosebumps along my shoulders and arms to chase my shivers. I’d forgotten a jacket in my rush to escape the confines of my dorm room. I shared the cramped space with my roommate, Leanne, who snored in a deep, sonorous bass. I lengthened my stride, my thigh muscles cramping in my human legs as I ran faster along the path that took me away from Rule 9 Academy. Through the trees on my left I could just make out the dark smoothness of Bitterroot Lake, reflecting the moon’s dimpled brightness back at me off the glassy surface. But I continued on past the larger body of water that cupped the small town of Bitterroot in its bend. I needed something a little less civilized to match my mood.

  I lifted my face, the fresh snap of wind brushing the length of my silvery hair back and out as I ran. I scented the briny tang of another lake, smaller, and devoid of humans, Magical or Other. In the woods on my left I heard furtive movements in the underbrush, followed by the desperate scrabble of small feet. Mr. Chipmunk hadn’t been quicker than the fox, who was hungry and storing up fat for the coming winter.

  Then I was cresting the ridge and pulling at the hem of my shirt, flipping the cotton past my belly and up and over my shoulders. The rest of my clothes followed. I dropped them in a random pile on the long, flat boulder that rested at the water’s edge. I never paused, the skin along the back of my shoulders and hands tingling, my feet already expecting the burn. I took to the air with a gymnast’s grace, cutting a smooth arc as I dove to rival any Olympian. I welcomed the brief shock as I went deep, my hands brushing the silty floor of Bane Lake in a matter of seconds. The slithering of scales and the fusing of my legs was complete before I reached the bottom, with scales replacing the fine hairs of my human legs, and my feet smoothing into long feathery tail fins, glittering with every hue of pink, blue, and silver. I sighed, taking a long, welcome breath. My gills were already functional, the lamellae in them filtering oxygen in while releasing carbon dioxide out to sustain me beneath the surface of the lake.

  Perfect peace settled in as my eyes adjusted to the near complete blackness. My pupils widened to freakish proportions to compensate and sharpen my underwater view. The silty bottom of the lake spread out before me, angling down and away in the distance, past large outcroppings of rock and through deep valleys, the flat olive-brown leafed pondweed waving up at me.

  With a flip of my tail amid a froth of bubbles that rose to the surface, I struck out, coasting along the floor just above the weedy bottom. I was close enough to feel the tickle of reaching leaves brush my belly and the tips of my webbed fingers as I drug them through the silky foliage. A school of yellow perch scattered up ahead of me, recognizing the predator in their midst. But I wasn’t hungry for food. It was the familiar caress of lake water along my body I needed—the wetness gliding past the fine net of shimmery scales that covered my tail. I needed to replenish the moisture I’d sacrificed in my human form on land.

  A flash of movement to my left caught my eye, and I grinned at the panicked movement of a selkie dashing from sight, her tail not unlike mine. I felt her frightened eyes on me as I passed. I’d known that the smaller species of Seal-folk inhabited Bane Lake. They were in Bitterroot as well, but it was the first time I’d ever seen one. Selkie were shy and kept to themselves.

  I reached the other end of the lake way too soon, turning to angle back along the east shore, a little over thirty yards out. I missed the bitter cold expanse of Deep Lake. Bane Lake was tiny in comparison. And it didn’t hold the secret race of Sylvans that were my family. I was human in my heart. I’d been born an Onlander and lived most of my life with my father, Jerry. But I was also part Sylvan, and my roots weren’t all on land. I’d been a young child when I left my water home behind and came to live with my father permanently in the human town of Breathless, nestled at the base of Shephard’s Mountain. My mother had brought me there when I was barely five, shortly before she died. My memories of my water home beneath Deep Lake were vague. Few knew Tarus existed, the small domed city hidden in the recesses of that vast mountain lake. It was an even better kept secret than Drae Valley, where Bane Lake was nestled. It was hidden deep in the center of Shephard’s Mountain and concealed from the non-magical world beyond it.

  My mother had left her Sylvan heritage behind to save me and give me a chance at a life with the father who loved us both. For the first time in more years than I could remember, I thought of her—and missed her.

  Because being a teenager kinda sucked sometimes. Especially when you were crazy about a broody wolf shifter who drove you insane.

  I gave an irritated swish of my tail, pulling silt and debris up from the muddy lake bed in thin brown clouds behind me. I had always been what I was. A Sylvan mermaid beneath the water, and Sirris Waverly, an Other, on land. My change was a part of me. But Thomas, as a werewolf, was essentially just human until his first change occurred in his 17th or 18th year. And as it neared, it made him moody, and difficult, and…maddening. The mood swings were driving me insane. One moment he was my partner in adventure, keeping me safe as we explored all kinds of crazy, in—and out—of our Magical world together with our best buds, Sadie and Nick. In the next breath, he was overbearing: a control freak that dreamed he could boss me around.

  I wasn’t having it. Maybe he was a lot bigger, with those freakishly broad shoulders I had started having strange dreams about. I sighed, little bubbles leaving my lips and rising to the surface. And he had those hooded wolfish eyes that made my insides quiver with nerves when he looked at me sometimes.

  It didn’t mean I was going to let him get away with thinking he could run my life. Nope, that wasn’t happening.

  Part of the problem was that Thomas worried. A lot. I knew some of that stemmed from his own insecurities. Growing up, he’d carried more than a few extra pounds of puppy fat, making him the object of unkind teasing from his peers. And the change itself could be dangerous. Some didn’t survive it.

  But in the last year, along with our close-knit group of friends, we’d been called on to save Drae Hallow from several outside attacks. The ensuing act of staying alive and battling old enemies and new had hardened his excess into sinewy muscle and hard planes. Thomas was changing into a broody stranger I couldn’t read. And I didn’t like it. I missed my best friend.

  I swam back towards the small bay where I’d entered, angling up towards the surface with reluctance. I’d lost myself in the depths of Bane Lake for the better part of two hours. I needed to get back and pull a few hours of sleep before I got up. I was meeting Sadie, Nick, and Mr. Attitude for breakfast at nine. And I had a major test in Elemental Magic to study for. I was scowling when my head broke the surface. Sadie had promised to help me study. It was not my best class.

  I turned towards shore and my scattered clothes. I frowned as my pupils adjusted once more and I began to tread water, swimming closer. My discarded Nikes and jeans weren’t the only thing on that rock. A slim shape materialized, stretching dark wings wide, with round, gold eyes staring hard at me. The white-capped head dipped, curious, in my direction.

  The young bald eagle stepped back as I approached, dancing on muscled legs, his claws making a clacking sound. I pulled myself free of the water, the hair and skin of my legs still tingling from the transformation back into feet and toes. He let out an annoyed screech, the sharp sound bouncing off the canyon walls in a harsh echo. But he didn’t
fly away. My feet nudged my crumpled shirt, bumping into something hard. A fist sized rock, dark and smooth, broke free and rolled forward. Another screech made me shiver as the night breeze dried me. His eyes were intent on the rock. A shudder of premonition rolled through me, and I bent down to pick it up, the smooth stone dry in my hand. A flutter of sound rippled beneath my wet fingers where the stone grew damp.

  I knew what this was. Reluctantly, I bent down and submerged my fist and the stone beneath the gentle ripples that rolled against my rocky perch and waited.

  A high-pitched whine emerged into the air…words for a Mermaid’s ears. I listened with mounting dread and fear as the lilting song rolled over me. When it was done, I looked over and realized that the eaglet was gone, released from the spell that had enthralled him to serve a mermaid's will and deliver an Echo Rock.

  No matter, the message had been received.

  I dressed with jerky movements, the clothes sticking against my skin where it was still damp as I yanked them on. Why now, after all these years?

  My ties to my mother’s family had been severed a long time ago, at their command. They’d banished my mother from Tarus, and me as well. If they thought they could just crook a fin and I’d come swimming, they were delusional.

  Dressed, I looked down at the message stone, now just a chunk of useless granite. A flick of my toe sent it flying into the lake, sinking from sight.

  I turned with a hiss and snatched my staff from where I’d leaned it against a tree on my way down the hill. Sparks sprang from my fingers and shivered along its length as my irritation bubbled to the surface.

  I entered the path I’d followed down and broke into a run, suddenly glad for my human legs that pumped beneath me and took me away from a different set of memories I didn’t care to revisit.

  I’d been desperate to reach the water. Now I was equally determined to leave it and what it represented behind me. Which was why I nearly missed it.

  I ignored, to my near peril, the crackle of dry autumn leaves and brush deeper in the woods on my left, not realizing that heavy feet were running through the woods, keeping pace beside me until it was almost too late. The footfalls were awkward and bumbling, unschooled in any attempt at stealth. When the slightly briny scent of their sweat hit me, I ground to a halt. My heart hammered in sudden panic. I knew that stink. And it was neither human nor animal. A high-pitched keen reached my ears as my stalkers realized I’d stopped and turned back in my direction, speaking in an agitated whisper my sharp hearing didn’t miss.

  I gripped my staff tighter, wishing Nicholas were here with his concealment spell, or Sadie with her skill with a bow and athletic ability to scurry up a tree. I had neither, but it didn’t mean I was without power of my own. My fingers flexed, splaying wide as I called up my magic, feeling the electric slide leave my fingers and cruise along the length of my staff. The sizzle-pop of sparks brightened the night before I pulled them back, hesitating. I could fight, and part of me wanted that rush of blood pumping through my veins. I was in that kind of mood.

  But reason made me cautious. What I really needed to do was hide and listen. Maybe I’d learn why they were stalking me.

  I stared frantically at the ground, searching. My eyes narrowed on a patch of skunk weed. With a flick of my hands I brought my staff up and down in the center, sending a jolt of energy dead center of the plant and releasing its pungent scent into the surrounding air. I backed up against the massive trunk of a bigleaf maple, the bark rough against my back. Deep inside I called on the part of me that made its home in the seas. I pulled on the long buried gene of the rockpool goby, whose ability to conceal its appearance and blend in with its surroundings was well known. I looked down the length of my arm as it splayed flat against the muddy grey trunk. The pale pearl of my skin darkened until I could no longer tell where the rough bark of the maple began and the smooth edge of my skin ended.

  Unblinking, I watched as three Mer-men skidded to a halt, mere feet from where I stood in plain sight, camouflaged against a tree.

  All three were big, easily topping six feet of lean muscle. Their eyes darted about in confusion, sure they’d had their quarry within their grasp, and clearly not happy when they didn’t. “Where’d she go? She couldn’t just disappear into thin air.”

  “Maybe she gave us the slip somehow, moved deeper into the, what’s the word, woods?”

  “The Dragon won’t be happy.”

  Grunts of agreement all around.

  “We should have been quicker, caught her while she was in the lake.”

  “Well, we didn’t.”

  The smallest of the three snickered. “If things go as planned, pretty soon we won’t have to.”

  The darker of the three, and tallest added. “That’s the plan. Let’s get back. We have a fair piece to go, and I’m already drying out.”

  “There’s the lake. We’ve already lost her.”

  “No. It’s bad enough we go back, having failed. Best not to add late to it, too. Bitterroot Lake isn’t that far, and the tunnels are quicker.”

  I watched as they turned, continuing along the shore of Bane Lake. I’d heard rumors that an enterprising mermaid could follow the tunnels in the underground river that flowed out of Bitterroot Lake and come out on the other side of Shephard’s Mountain. But I’d never tried them myself, afraid of getting lost in that confusing warren of rivers and streams that ran beneath my feet.

  I took a small breath, and then a second, releasing the essence of the tiny goby fish that had probably saved my life. Stepping away from the tree, I stared after the retreating Seascrill Mer-men in confusion.

  I’d had every plan to ignore the strange summons in the Echo Rock. I owed my Sylvan side of the family nothing.

  My stalkers had changed that. Seascrill were a distant cousin to the Sylvan, who considered them inferior in almost every way. In the Sylvan world, Seascrill could not hold office or be a part of the royal court. The Sylvan race varied in hue from the lightest of pearl to the darkest of midnight, the speckling of their scales a kaleidoscope of color in the spill of light from the surface. Seascrill were different. They were all predominantly one color, a light mauve, with long dark hair. Their hands and feet were earmarked by a sixth digit, further setting them apart from their cousins.

  I didn’t hold the same disdain that the Royal court did. I’d been reared by Jerry Waverly, who’d taught me to see our differences as individual strengths. But I wasn’t a fool. Those Seascrill hadn’t looked friendly, and they’d been armed to the teeth. I wanted to know why they were looking for me.

  Thomas moved, tall and silent at my side as we walked back from The Commons after supper. It was the weekend, and I missed my father, Jerry. I felt Thomas’ loss, too, though he was right next to me. My childhood bestie was gone, replaced by this brooding stranger I didn’t know. I wanted the ease back. Lately, it seemed like everything was changing, and not just with him. I hadn’t told him about the summons. Not yet.

  What was the point if I wasn’t sure I was even going to respond to it. It would just cause an unnecessary fight between us. He worried about everything lately. I should have said something about being followed and the Seascrill, but I’d always had a hard time talking about the other half of my heritage, even with him.

  Harsh words reached my ears, and I glanced over to where Nick walked beside Sadie, his back rigid and his mouth a flat line of anger. Sadie said something to him and he hissed back, too low for me to hear. He was still hot over her changing their plans on our double date so she could meet with her Dragon Shifter class to study for some test. I felt for my friend, but I had problems of my own.

  I moved up alongside Todd and Fern, walking ahead of us. She cast me a dark look, but she shifted to make room. Fern Mason was the most antisocial person I knew. She avoided people on principle. At least, that’s what I'd always believed before we spent the previous summer at a summer camp for Dragons on Greylock Mountain. Sadie’s cousin, Niel, had helped us realiz
e Fern was not only an exceptional witch but she was also an Empath. Being around other people didn’t just annoy her, sometimes it came with blinding headaches from the emotional overload.

  “So, break starts in a little over a week. What are your plans for your two weeks off?” I asked, making conversation—anything to avoid one more stilted exchange with a certain difficult wolf.

  Fern looked away. “Going to spend some time with my Aunt Feather. We are working on a few different spells that aren’t taught in class.”

  “Oh? Are they illegal or something?”

  “No. They are too difficult for second-year students.”

  “You are a second-year student.” I pointed out.

  She didn’t answer, a ghost of a smile tilting her lips.

  “I thought maybe you might return to Greylock Mountain, you know, to visit,” I teased.

  Her scowl turned fierce. “Now why would I do that?”

  “Well, I thought you might want to vis—”

  “Don’t finish that. What do I have to do to convince everyone I’m not interested in that…that…clown?” she ground out, her eyes flashing.

  On the other side of her, Todd grinned, adding, “Who are you trying to convince, Fern?”

  She rolled her eyes in disgust and walked faster, double-timing it on her shorter legs to get away from us. I covered my mouth to prevent a soft giggle.

  “How about you, Sirris? Plans to do anything interesting?” Todd asked.

  I shook my head sharply, wincing. “Not a single one. I plan to sleep and help Dad around the house. That’s it. How about you? Fern’s not the only one with ties to Greylock Mountain.”

  In an instant, his own smile vanished. He was a long time answering. “Sometimes, the past is best left there. Things didn’t…work out. Best leave it at that.”