by A. S. Oren
Copyright © A.S. Oren 2015
Rook Hilt Publishing
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locals are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, real locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental or used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2015 A.S. Oren
Cover copyright © 2014 A.S. Oren
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Book design A.S. Oren
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Previously on Spearwood Academy…
Judgment
“The Cell”
Of Life and Death
Objective
Memories
Insane
Saved
Beautiful
“C” is for Cookie
The Strange Twin
Excerpts from Heather Dowell’s: The Newcomer
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Previously on Spearwood Academy…
The semi-sweet aroma of cocoa wakes me up from a peaceful dream. I stretch my arms above my head and open my eyes. I’m still on the couch in the Cabin.
We fell asleep here while we were cuddling. I smile. I’m glad he was okay with not going any farther than what we did last night. I’m just not ready for something like that yet.
It felt so good just lying in his arms though. Through the entire night; never once feeling the pull of the moon.
I look to the coffee table. On it sits a steaming mug of cocoa. He remembered. I sit up and grasp it in my hands before standing. I wonder where he is. I walk around the living room. “Mav?” I call.
“Out here!”
One of the windows near the front door stands open. I go outside and cup the mug with both hands. “What are you doing out here? It’s kinda chilly.”
“I don’t feel it. Look at how beautiful the sunrise is.”
Hues of pink and purple mingle together amongst the fluffy clouds. The clearing around the Cabin gives a perfect view of it. “Absolutely gorgeous,” I say.
I stand next to him and he wraps his arm around me and gives me a kiss on the head. I sigh. I wish we could stay here forever.
“I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to ruin it.”
He sets his mug down and turns me so my back faces the Cabin. “You didn’t ruin anything. I love you and nothing could ruin that.”
“I’m so glad I admitted my feelings to you in the barn that day. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“That was the happiest day of my life.”
He leans over and kisses my forehead, nose and lips. I run my hand through his black hair. The white forelock hangs in front of his eyes, and I push it behind his ear. I like that he hasn’t tied it back yet for the day. “Let’s just stay here forever. No one knows we’re out here. We could just live in the forest.”
Maverick sighs. “You know we can’t do that, Lon. We have to fix my brother and yours. We can’t leave them in that state.”
He’s right. I wish he wasn’t. “Then let’s just stay here for the morning and make out. I don’t want to have to think about the rest of the world.”
He grins. “Now, I think that could be arranged.”
His warm lips meet mine in a gentle kiss, but a thump makes me pull away from him. Where did that sound come from? No one else is out here.
Maverick grunts, and I look to him. He grips at his chest and falls to his knees. A gasp escapes him.
“Mav?” Cold rushes over my body. I fall to my knees with him. “Mav, what’s wrong?”
Blood trickles down the corner of his mouth. I can’t breathe. I look over his shoulder. The end of an arrow sticks out near the left side of his back. Red feathers attached at the fletching. “Oh God!” I gasp. “I need to heal you now!”
He rips open his shirt. A black spot spreads out over his heart. He shakes his head no. “You can’t,” he gasps. “I’ve been poisoned by nightshade. There’s no cure.”
His body falls forward into me. “I have to try. My Angel powers will cure you.”
He shakes his head against my shoulder. “No. That will kill you.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
A sob erupts from me. My fingers go into his long black hair. “Please don’t leave me.”
“You need to live, Lon.” His gasps are becoming shorter.
“I don’t want to live without you. This isn’t the end.”
Maverick uses my shoulders to push himself up to look at me. He kisses my forehead, his lips blue. “I . . .” He sways and falls forward again. His body convulses in my arms before he goes still.
“Maverick?” I can’t feel his breath on my shoulder. I lift a hand to check for a pulse. Nothing. “Maverick!”
Judgment
One Week Later…
My wrists turn in the golden cuffs, their magic keeping mine at bay.
“Do you understand why you are here, Miss Roseman?” asks one of the men sitting behind a judge’s stand, which is wide enough to fit six of them: the Governors. Memories of Edgar warning me about them swarm my mind—like they have been for days—since all of this started.
“They are ruthless, Avalon. They rule most things now, and unless an Ancient steps in, their rulings are final. If they can’t come to a cohesive verdict, then yau will go before the Heads of the Families, and their ruling is final. No Ancient can overstep it.”
I asked him why.
“Because each section of the Families has their own Ancients, the ones who started it all.”
Then I asked him why the Families have any say in matters dealing with dragons.
“Because they make up the order keepers. If it weren’t for them, all Norms would know about us.”
I wondered why that would be a bad thing.
“Remember learning about the Salem Witch trials? It would be that all over again, but ten-thousand times worse. The Norms have better weapons now, and we aren’t immune to everything they can throw at us.”
I stare at the dark wood that makes up the base of the stand. I keep my mouth shut. Nothing they do will affect me at this point.
As if it just happened, I feel Maverick’s body convulsing in my arms. A stray tear falls down my face. I bite my inner cheek until the taste of copper floods my mouth. Damn it all.
“Miss Roseman, that requires a response.”
They think I killed him.
“Miss Roseman . . .”
Killing a Royal means death without trial . . . in normal circumstances.
“Answer them, Avalon,” Roseman says. He stands at my left.
Apparently, I’m special.
“As your father, I order you to answer them.”
He is not my father. Not even close. Edgar’s dead, and my parents are missing. What happened to them? I don’t even know what day it is. How long has it been since they captured us?
Do they honestly believe I’m still brainwashed at this point? Are they fools or just delusional?
I pull my lips apart, breaking the dry seal on them. “You think I killed Maverick Hansen.” His name falls off my tongue like a
n anvil, as if saying it solidifies he’s gone.
“Thank you, Miss Roseman. Now, we will see to your trial,” says the guy at the center of the table, the youngest one there.
The man to his left clears his throat. Deep wrinkles line the underside of his eyes and long jowls hang off his face like a humanoid bulldog. “Since your father is the current head of the Governors. He cannot give the final ruling on your punishment.”
“Killing a Royal means death. However, you are the only female of our kind in many eras,” the youngest governor says.
The man with a long, pointed, penguin nose takes in a deep, nasally breath, which compares to the sound of hacking a loogie. “Thus, we will give you a chance to prove your worth. If you fail, regardless of your status as the only female, you will be put to death. The weak do not belong in our bloodline.”
I should probably be shaking right now. If this were happening at any other time, I would be; but right now, I just couldn’t care less.
“Do you have anything to say for your actions?” the old bulldog asks.
“I didn’t kill him.”
“You were found with Mr. Hansen’s body in your arms. You were in the woods, outside of a rundown cabin, and you were the last one to be seen with him.” He tries to clear his throat, but his words sound like gravel when he says, “As says the witness.” The old bulldog motions to Paden, who sits in the witness box. His dark blue eyes show a coldness . . . no . . . a hatred I have never seen in them before. Spearwood students fill every available pew in the stadiumesque courtroom. Let out of school to see the trial of the century, even the guys sit among them. Bullock sits in his own section and Mirren sits with a group of guys I’ve never seen, but none of them have their true memories back. Who knows if they believe I did it or not.
“His back was shot with an arrow. If I had done that, why would I have stayed with him? Why wouldn’t I run?”
“Would you like to speak, Mr. Hansen?” Penguin asks.
“She was having a fling with him and didn’t want me to find out about it. My brother told me about anyway, but she didn’t know that. He was going to tell her I knew on that day, but then he wound up dead. She had motive. She didn’t want people knowing she sleeps around, considering she’s supposed to be marrying me soon.”
Chills run over my entire body. How could he say those things?
Dante stands up from his seat. “That’s a flat out lie, and you know it, you prick!” He points and makes his way down the stairs toward me. “She didn’t care when you found out she was with me. Why would she give a shit if she found out you knew about your brother and her?”
I must sleep around a lot in their memories. I don’t know how I feel about that. Why did they make me such an easy girl? So that it’d be easier for them to turn against me? Was Maverick getting killed Roseman or Aibek’s plan? If it was Aibek’s, why hasn’t he killed Amr and me yet? What’s changed between now and the time he wanted to off us in a dirt room? What are we? Sitting ducks now? Easy targets?
My eyes go wide. Maybe the arrow was meant for me and not for Maverick.
The youngest governor bangs a gavel on the stand. “I will have order! You, young man, are not part of the trial. Take your seat, or you will be removed.”
“You have no witness for her side. How is this fair?” Dante counters.
“To your seat . . . now!” yells the old bulldog. His jowls quiver.
Dante turns to me and rests his hand on my shoulder. “You’ll make it through this, Avvi. I know you will.” It’s weird hearing him call me Avvi. He never does that. Does he still call me Fire?.
His lips meet mine before I have time to react. I try to push my face away from his, forcing his lips to my cheek. He thinks we have something, but I just can’t do this right now. All I want is Maverick back.
Dante returns to his seat beside Amr and Horace.
“Without further interruption, we will now rule on your punishment,” Penguin says.
“Avalon Roseman, for your crime of killing a Royal you will be sentenced to a trial of survival. If you succeed, you will be absolved of your crime. If you fail, may the Sun god have mercy on your soul. Your trial begins at sunrise.” The youngest governor bangs the gavel again.
I didn’t kill him. I love him.
“You may take her back to her cell now, Mr. Norse.”
Jericho Norse takes ahold of my arm and guides me to the exit. He’s been my day and night guard since we got back. He even sleeps on a bed in my living room. He can’t be older than nineteen. Why was he chosen to watch me?
“C’mon, Miss Roseman, get a move on. I don’t have all day to wait on you.”
If I had my way, I’d elbow him in the stomach. Unfortunately, these golden cuffs on my wrists prevent me from being violent in any way, whether physically or magically.
“The Cell”
A beep sounds as Jericho opens the door to my dorm. He holds Enid, my P.A., in his hand. I’m not allowed to use her until my trial is over, not that I would know how to use her for anything dubious.
He pulls me inside the room and unlinks my cuffs. They remain on my wrists, but I no longer have to hold my arms behind my back. “Go do whatever. You only have a couple hours of freedom left.” He says do whatever, but I can’t leave my dorm.
Roseman had to pull some father strings just to get me under house arrest. If it weren’t for him, I’d be in the dungeons below the school. As much as I hate him and the guard I’ve been stuck with, I’m glad I’m not in a dungeon. Still, I’d like to know what they want from me. If Aibek wants me dead, why are they dragging this out?
I’m sure Jericho will just go and read or watch something with the help of his P.A. I head for my room, closing and locking the door behind me. Sir Pointed Face can do whatever he wants to do.
I fall on the bed and curl up.
A sob erupts from me. It’s not just Maverick; it’s Edgar as well. I never had a chance to mourn. I’ve lost two people in such a short period. Why does this keep happening?
Edgar wouldn’t want me to waste my time crying over him, and Maverick . . . Maverick wouldn’t want me in pain.
Maverick grins. He walks up to me and places his hands on my hips. I look up into his ocean-blue eyes. Leaning over, he kisses me. Why can’t every second of the day be like this one? I wrap my arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. He lifts me up, breaking the kiss as he places me on the horse. I turn my body and lift my leg over the saddle.
“We need to get going, so we can talk,” he says. “I could kiss you all day long and never tire of it, just so you knowt.”
“I feel the same way.”
I grab the end of my white comforter and pull it over me as if it will shield me from the memories of our last day together. Like a broken record, they just keep playing.
“I’m so glad I have you through all of this. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t.”
He smiles and leans in for a kiss. I return it instantly and straddle his lap. His hands meet my sides as he brushes my shirt up. Heat fills my body at the touch of his fingers.
I run the tip of my tongue over his lower lip and pull it with my teeth. He opens up for me, and we fight for dominance. He growls, his grip on my waist tightening.
My chest aches. Why does it hurt so much?
“Clementine.”
My crying stills. That wasn’t Jericho’s voice, and he would’ve called me Roseman. I peel back my comforter enough to peer around the room. No boys are allowed in here; the alarm would go off.
To the left of the fireplace, a small door swings out of the wall, revealing a crouched Bullock behind it. I gasp.
My brow furrow as I sit up, but I don’t speak. I don’t want the Watchers or Jericho to know he’s here.
I study the door leading into the living room. It doesn’t budge. Jericho must be watching something with headphones in.
I slip out of bed and kneel before Bullock. “What are you doing here?” Am I with him too? His th
ick, square-rimmed glasses sit back on his nose. I fixed his sight. They must’ve reverted what I did. There’s even a scar in the shape of a three that stands out by the right corner of his mouth. This must be what Dante was talking about when he said I scarred Bullock’s face.
“Come here, Clementine. This passage and all the passages in the school block out The Watchers” He backs up to give me room. “The alarm won’t be effected if you move over the threshold.”
How does he know that there’s a ‘no boys’ alarm on my room? Did Triton tell him before he betrayed all of us? I crawl deeper into the passage.
“First, do you know how I got this?” he points to the scar.
I sigh. I really don’t know. I wouldn’t even know where to begin to try to fake the story. Frankly, I’m too tired to care. I give a shake of my head. “I don’t know.”
He gives a sigh now. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure if they had been able to get to you again.”
“You’re not brainwashed? But you’re wearing your glasses again.”
He pulls them off and sticks his finger through one of the holes where the glass should be. “I woke up with them on, after we were captured, but I couldn’t see out of them. I popped the glass out. I don’t think they’ve noticed the change.”
“Why aren’t you brainwashed?” Just like Maverick. Why weren’t they changed when the others were?
He shakes his head again. “I don’t know.”
“Maverick wasn’t affected either. That’s . . . that’s why we were at the Cabin together.” The grip on my emotions slides again.
“What happened?”
My legs go weak; I sit down. “I don’t know. One second we’re watching the sunrise and drinking cocoa, then he’s gone. An arrow laced with nightshade pierced him. He wouldn’t let me heal him, because he knew it would kill me.” A sob bursts from me before I can stop it. “It’s all my fault. We shouldn’t have gone to the Cabin to talk.” I hide my face.