by J. M. Kearl
A tear rolled down my cheek. My mother had never hit me before. Training had gotten me used to the pain and bruises but it wasn’t the physical sting that hurt me. “I don’t know, I’m just stupid.”
She continued on her tirade. “If you wanted to see him that much I’d have taken you there. All you had to do was ask. But instead you sneak away, steal potions from a professor, and use your friends to do it all.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, voice wavering with emotion. “I won’t be so foolhardy again.”
“I should make you stay here for your sixth year—”
“No, please,” I blurted, and then I lowered my voice. “I want to go to the Allied Academy.”
Mother’s face softened slightly. “I said I should, not that I’m going to. If you can pass your test with your father that is.” She sighed. “What was so important you couldn’t wait a week?”
“It was his birthday.” Now that I stood before my mother I felt embarrassed to have done what I did. Even if I had other more pressing excuses, like finding out why he’d been ignoring me, it could have waited too.
My mother waved a hand. “Not a good reason. And by the look of you, you’ve been awake all night, I hope you’re up to the task of passing your test.” She went to a chair and rested her face in one hand. “You better go get a few hours of sleep. We’ll talk more later.”
I thought about telling her everything that happened but she needed time to cool off so I’d save that conversation for after my sparring match with Father.
∞∞∞
After I’d fallen asleep, what seemed like only moments later a knocking sound jolted me awake. By the bright light shining through my windows I guessed it was high noon.
“Visteal,” Bindy said loudly. “It’s almost one o’clock. Are you unwell? Your father is requesting you at the sparring grounds.”
With heavy eyelids and a slight headache I wouldn’t be at my best. I shouldn’t have drunk any honey mead. I knew better.
“I’m getting ready!” I shouted. I tossed my blanket and dressed quickly. When I opened my bedroom door, I still combed my hair.
Bindy’s eyes slid over me and then she narrowed her gaze. “So you’re not feeling ill?”
Mother didn’t tell her? “I think I was just extra tired.” I braided my long locks and then tied off the end. “Is Father already there?”
Bindy turned and started walking. “He was on his way a couple minutes ago.”
When we arrived my father, his friend Rorin, and ten guards stood in a circle. They all laughed at Rorin as he grabbed at his chest, gasping as if dying. Some of them turned when we neared.
My father stepped out and waved me over. “Today I will make my final decision.”
I shook off the fatigue and my worries. “I’m ready.”
With but a nod of his head, the guards formed a wide circle. “We will use magic.” An iridescent bubble surrounded us so no rogue spells would hit anyone.
I pulled my sword and whispered a spell that set the blade alight with blue fire.
“Wooo,” Rorin jeered. “She might just give you a good wallop, Boaden.”
Father smiled and readied himself. I swung and drops of azure flames showered around us when our blades hit. My father had forty years of training on me and also happened to be one of the best, if not the best in Delhoon. Winning wasn’t my goal; I just needed to hurt him once. Or if I couldn’t do that, at least not take a beating. Probably the latter since I doubt he’d be caught off guard for me to get him a second time.
Our swords clashed, ringing out as we danced in circles. His leg swung out and I leaped back. I vanished, appearing to his right just out of sight then I swung; he turned fast enough to block my weapon. I flipped backward, cold chilled my hand as I threw a blast of winter from my palm. His shield blocked and absorbed it until there wasn’t an inkling of snow. An invisible rope wrapped around my legs and I lost balance. I tucked and rolled, waving my hand to dissolve the trap and Father’s sword came down. SHIELD! My magic firmly surrounded me, his sword bounced off. He laughed until I got to my feet.
“Come on, Visteal,” Father’s friend Rorin teased. “I thought you wanted to go to the academy so you could see your man.”
Clenching my jaw, I charged. Father easily blocked everything I had. I threw fire and ice and swung my sword like an assassin but nothing could get through. So I backed off, barely able to breathe.
“You’ve improved a lot in the last few months,” Father said, not breathing nearly as heavy as me, I noticed. “You may not have gotten me today but,” he looked me over. “I haven’t gotten you either. Your defenses are excellent. And against most other opponents I believe you’d win.”
Pride swelled within me. “I did get your calf with my dagger yesterday.”
Half smiling, he replied, “Yes, you did.”
Chest still heaving, I waited for his answer. Did I pass his test? “So I can go?”
Sheathing his sword in silence, his lips formed a line.
Is he going to say no? After how hard I’ve tried. After all the work I’ve done?
Hard-pressed lips slowly pulled up. “I’m confident that you’re good enough. You may go.”
I ran, wrapping my arms around his torso. “Thank you.”
He patted my back. “Your mother said you had something to tell me. What is it?”
I nervously laughed. “I have a lot to tell the both of you.”
∞∞∞
A week later I sat in the dining hall of the Allied Kingdoms Academy. After I was berated for over an hour by my parents, they both got past my mistake. They were more worried about what happened to Taz and me with the foreign prince. They actually believed me and both of them immediately went to contact the merfolk. However, meetings with the king of the ocean always took a long time to schedule. I feared it would be at least a month before we learned anything new.
As time had passed and no other attacks, no Fae sightings, and no red moon rose in the night sky, I wondered if the birds and our encounter with the Prince of the Winter and Night courts was a one-time event. Had King Enden been right? Had I jumped to conclusions?
Yet as I sat staring at the dining hall doors waiting for the Hesstian students to arrive, in the back of my mind I couldn’t stop the worry that had taken hold. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the vampires were paid to attack us and the Fae man showed up to retrieve the scepter that let them pass our defenses.
I popped a grape into my mouth and turned when Legacy tapped my arm. I still couldn’t believe she ratted me out to my mother the week before. All she had to do was stay in my room for a couple more hours. Oh but she had to venture out to get a late-night snack and ran into my mother exiting my room. I told her the pixies would bring her food. She claimed they wouldn’t come. I suspected she wanted to sneak out and see her barn boy. Which would have been difficult for her to explain considering he’d thought he saw her leave.
“You’re sure Aric is coming?” Legacy asked and sounded more nervous than excited.
“Zyacus said so.” Then I spotted the barn boy down the table. He stared our way and it wasn’t like he was trying to hide it. With so much on my mind I hadn’t told her I knew about him yet but now seemed like a good time. “By the way I met Taron. He thought I was you.”
Her hand flew to her mouth when she nearly spit out her drink. “What? He never mentioned anything to me.”
“I don’t know why you’re hiding it from me. It’s not like I’d care.” I didn’t blame her for moving on from Aric even if I felt bad for him. I thought she should have at least seen how much he changed—other than the whole drinking blood aspect.
“Taron was just a little fun for the break, a friend like Taz. Someone to help pass the time.” She lifted her head slightly. “I want Aric.”
I tried not to give her a judgy look but my face scrunched up at the words. Seriously?
“See, that’s why I didn’t tell you about him.”
I t
ook another purple grape between my fingers. “Did you kiss him?”
She cleared her throat. “Just a couple times.”
I glanced at Taz who was locked in conversation with Freya. “You’ve never kissed Taz. Never even considered it when he was in love with you for years.”
“Alright Taz is different from Taron but it’s done. And Taz was never in love with me, what are you talking about?”
I chomped on the grape. “You’re oblivious if you never noticed. But he’s moved on, clearly.”
The doors swung open, pale-skinned, gray and green uniformed students marched inside. The new Collweyan students were obvious by their “oohs” and “ahhs’’ and devouring the room with their eyes. It was impressive with murals of dragons and phoenixes flying across the walls from a gifted artist and a magic imbued paintbrush. It was also massive with long tables, and of course different from their home academy with students from another kingdom joining them. The students who’d been here before found their seats without the sense of wonder. The last three to come through the doors were Kyan, Aric and the auburn headed friend Brax. Seeing them reminded me of the night I first remembered coming face to face with Senica, when he’d threatened to come for me at the party. I shuttered.
Aric’s eyes slid to our table and then he turned away without acknowledgment. Perhaps he’d been serious when he’d said he wanted Legacy to forget about him.
I wished I could rush over there and ask how he’d been. If he’d gotten his new—senses under control. When he’d first turned, he tried to attack me. I couldn’t imagine him being here if he still wanted to attack everyone.
Maybe I could corner Kyan for an update, if he’d still talk to me after everything. Kyan and I hadn’t parted on the best terms. Our last real conversation I’d threatened to expose him. Once I found out what he was, I’d all but shunned him. To be fair, he was a liar.
Soon after, the Hesstian students strolled in with their blue uniforms. Zyacus took up the rear with his friends, Mateo, Skinny and Unibrow. I hadn’t changed my mind about their nicknames and I couldn’t remember his two minions’ real names anyway. Am I the worst girlfriend?
With a wave at me, Zyacus smiled and took his seat. I supposed day one he would sit with his own people.
I wasn’t sure what happened with Headmaster Jace but a new Headmaster, Elvbane Brevins Lacspor took the podium. His dark blond beard was braided and reached nearly his chest. He wore something akin to light battle armor, his long blond mane was pulled back and he had a roughness to him that our previous Headmaster lacked. I knew he was Delhoon because he spoke our language, Delian and mentioned being from Fildor, a city in my kingdom.
He gave a long speech about the rules, what we’d learn here, what he expected from his prestigious students. About the same jargon as last year. The only thing new was to keep an eye out for vampires, given the attack. To report anything or anyone suspicious and to always be on our guard. He mentioned some changes would be coming the next day.
What would he do if he knew of any vampires here? My parents knew what happened to Aric. They knew he would return but they hadn’t made it public knowledge. Perhaps given that he was a prince that made him different but anyone else likely wouldn’t be given the luxury of living, let alone staying here.
When that borefest was over we were led outside for an unknown activity. Sixth-year students were told to follow the magic teacher, Professor Tessam.
As we made our way outside, my boots crunched on the dirt path. An arm suddenly snaked around my waist, flashbacks of Senica at the dance sliding his hand around me and whispering “sorry I’m late” sent a shot of panic. I threw a hard elbow as I turned, Zyacus caught my arm and held it firmly.
His blue eyes searched mine. “It’s just me.”
I shook the memory away of that terrible night and forced a smile. “After I sliced you from chest to naval last year, you’d think you’d learn to not sneak up on me.”
He laughed and wrapped my arm around his low back. “I like it when you show a little fight. It’s amusing.”
“What did you just say?” I snapped, pulling away. My mind played the moment Senica said, “I like a woman with a little fight in her.” I didn’t know coming back here would be so hard. It was bringing up all the bad memories that I’d somehow escaped being at home.
Zyacus tucked his hands in his pockets and narrowed his eyes. “I’m confused. Why are you upset with me?”
“I’m not,” I said, the edge in my tone evidence to the contrary.
“No?”
“I’m not mad,” I said quietly. “It’s just, something you said reminded me of Senica.”
His tense face softened. “Dragon’s breath, I hope I don’t remind you of him. He wasn’t nearly as good looking or charming.”
I quietly laughed and lightly shoved him. “Just as arrogant as ever I see.”
“It must be true if I got you to fall for me. Which was more difficult than I expected, by the way.”
I scoffed and trudged ahead to catch up to the group. “You thought it would be easy?”
Appearing at my side he chuckled. “No but I didn’t expect to get sliced with a dagger, slapped, punched, scolded and be called names on a regular basis.”
“It must be part of my appeal since you seemed to like it.” I tried not to grin. “And I’ve never punched you.”
“Hmm must have dreamed that one. Alright it was a long chase with unexpected turns, some more pleasant than others.”
I arched an eyebrow and turned toward him. “I hope you don’t get bored now.”
Slinging his firm arm around the back of my neck he said, “I’ll never stop chasing you. And you’re anything but boring.”
When our group stopped and gathered together before the outdoor sparring arena, Professor Tessam, our fifth-year potions professor from last year, stepped onto a raised platform. Her silver curly hair that was usually pulled back blew freely in the breeze.
Staring up at the high gray rock walls of the, I wondered what we were doing here. Previously they said this was only to be used for seventh-year students who would fight the Wargon Trolls. It never was used.
“Our new Headmaster Elvbane has made some adjustments to how this academy will run.” She clasped her hands together in front of her. “He, and some of the professors,” she added as if she weren’t one of them, “wanted to start the year off with something memorable.”
Memorable could be good.
“He wanted to start this year off to weed out the weak,” she said, almost tentative.
Zyacus and I exchanged a glance. Would students be leaving if they didn’t make the cut? Had my father trained with me personally to prepare me for whatever was coming? He said it was for my safety but I had taken that as in case someone like Senica tried to capture or kill me again.
“Some of you will fight against Wargon Trolls. You will kill the beasts or they will kill you.” A collective gasp spread across our group. “However, you have the choice to leave this academy and not fight if you don’t think you are ready.”
One girl from Hesstia yelled, “It’s cruel to capture trolls so we can kill them.”
“They volunteer. They live for the chance to fight humans,” Tessam said, and that shut the girl up. “As your leaders, and to set an example, the princes and princess will be first to fight. Princess Visteal, Prince Zyacus, and Prince Aric, please come forward.”
My heart thundered, drowning out the chatter from the group. I hadn’t even remembered seeing Aric among us but as the crowd parted he appeared at my side and we moved to the front.
When we stood before the professor, she stepped down from the podium. “Wait here a moment.” Then she walked toward the—three doors to the arena.
Aric leaned over. “Good to see you two.”
It was shocking to see him—normal. He smiled at me, spoke as if he’d just been away on a break and that night hadn’t happened. It almost made me question if he’d turned at all.
The last time I’d seen him he’d chased me. Thrashed and cried. Begged for death.
“Either of you ever fought a Wargon Troll?” Zyacus asked, calm as ever.
I shook my head, afraid if I spoke my voice would give away my nervousness. Weren’t they scared too? Weren’t they afraid we could die in there? I supposed Aric wouldn’t since he was harder to kill now and faster and stronger.
“I’ve never even seen one. But if I had to choose anyone to face them with, it would be you two,” Aric said, touching the sword at his waist.
“I’ve only ever read about them.” Zyacus took his sword from between his shoulder blades. I wondered when and why he’d moved his weapon from his hip holster.
I’d seen them in previous years. I’d seen them rip a boy apart. I’d seen them laugh as they drove a rusted sword through a girl. I’d seen their huge yellow tusks, and hideous green skin, thick enough to be armor. A putrid smell that lingered about them like a dead rotting corpse. Stringy black hair that looked like it had been soaked in oil. Oh, and they’re at least eight feet tall.
With a scraping sound, Professor Tessam opened each tall metal door.
“It appears as if we’ll be going in separately,” Aric said.
I pulled my sword and took several long breaths.
“You seem nervous,” Zyacus said quietly.
“That’s because I am. And you should be,” I hissed.
Aric put a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve fought vampires and won. You’ll do fine. Trolls are slow and they have no magic.”