Dark Abandon

Home > Fantasy > Dark Abandon > Page 8
Dark Abandon Page 8

by Nicole R. Taylor


  “Cool,” I said. “I’ll check it out.”

  “Cool,” Kayla echoed, then tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder before swanning down the mall, her entourage in tow, and climbed into the minibus.

  Trent had stuck around and I narrowed my eyes. I totally got the kid versus adult divide now. I knew I could be reckless, but I had nothing on a horny teenager.

  “Thanks, Scarlett,” he said sheepishly.

  “Just don’t do it again,” I replied, glancing towards the bus. “Just because we can influence people, doesn’t mean we should use it. Do you want to get kicked out of the Academy?”

  He shook his head. “It was stupid.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  “I, uh…” he scuffed the toe of his boot against the ground, “I kinda like Kayla, and…”

  He did it to get a girl’s attention? Sheesh.

  “There’s better ways to get her to notice you, you know.”

  “She’s the most popular girl at the Academy,” he argued. “I’m nothing to her.”

  “You’d be surprised,” I drawled.

  “All the girls have the hots for the new teacher, Mr. Wilder.”

  “Mr. Wilder?” I snorted and rolled my eyes.

  “He doesn’t have another name,” Trent argued.

  I scratched my head. Now that I thought about it, he was right. Wilder wasn’t exactly first name material, but we did live in an ever increasing world where people made up their own creative spellings that had little to no basis on the English language.

  “Forget about him. He’s old. Practically geriatric.” I slapped him on the back and turned him towards the minibus. “Besides, it’s against the law.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be giving me advice?” he complained.

  “There’s a party coming up, Trent. Get dressed up and tell her she’s pretty. A girl like Kayla will lap it up, trust me.”

  “That’s awful advice.”

  “No, it’s not. She thrives on adoration. Compliment her until you’ve got her attention, then win her over with your stellar personality.” Maybe that last part was a stretch, but it got him thinking.

  “Really?”

  I nodded. “What have you got to lose? If she says no, then you’ll be right back to where you started, which is right here.”

  I pushed him towards the bus and sighed.

  They were training to become soldiers in a never-ending war, but deep down, they were still kids. Kids with hormones. Light help us all.

  Tick, tock, tick, tock…

  The grandfather clock beside the headmaster’s desk ticked loudly in the silence and the leather on the chair I sat in creaked as I moved.

  Liam Islington sat in a grand chair behind his grand authoritarian desk, reading the incident report Masters had submitted the moment we’d arrived back at the Academy. I could see the angry pen strokes through the paper, and all the places the nib had broken through in his rage.

  Wilder was draped in the chair beside me, clearly annoyed he’d been called into the headmaster’s office. He and Islington were mortal rivals after all, but as far as I could tell, they’d avoided butting heads up until now.

  “Scarlett,” Islington said, lowering the piece of paper, “I’m extremely disappointed.”

  I looked at Wilder, but he didn’t even lift his gaze and it stung. Either he was that bored, or he was hiding something. Ultimately, I felt like I was at a parent-teacher conference, though it was one where I’d have to come to my own rescue.

  “I’m conducting a mission here, headmaster,” I drawled. “I need the other students to trust me.”

  “By using alteration to incite a brawl?”

  Wilder eyed me, half-confused, half-surprised.

  “Yep.” I popped the ‘p’ at the end and pouted.

  “She incited a brawl?” Wilder asked, staring at me. “Scarlett?”

  “According to Mr. Masters, she admitted to it.”

  “Damn right I did,” I declared.

  “Your continued presence here is defined by your behaviour, Miss Ravenwood,” Islington said. “I will not treat you any different than any other student.”

  “Oh, come on,” Wilder declared.

  “Outside of your mission,” he narrowed his eyes, “other than to teach you some much-needed discipline, I’m not sure why you’re here,” the headmaster said, staring at me with his cool, authoritative gaze. “Aside from today’s infraction, and tossing Masters across a classroom, your grades are outstanding. Have you made any progress?” He glanced at Wilder then back to me.

  I smiled. “I’m working on it.”

  Islington knew his hands were tied and leaned back in his chair, clearly annoyed. “If you disrupt the students any further—”

  “Don’t worry,” I interrupted, “I’ll try not to ruin their fine educations.”

  “Be thankful I’m not punishing you, Miss Ravenwood,” he said. “I’m more than happy to if it helps you maintain your cover.”

  “Don’t give her detention, Islington,” Wilder said. “We both know you’re itching to, but we need Scarlett out there with the students, wandering the boundary on pointless demon duty. If a threat does remain, it’s inside these walls.”

  Islington’s jaw began to grind and he set his gaze on him. “And what progress have you made, Wilder?”

  “As we learned with the other cases, any alteration in the host can take time to manifest. Thus, we must remain vigilant and maintain our covers.”

  I tensed and shot a confused look at Wilder. Since when did Islington know about the mutations? I was farther out of the loop that I realised, but then again, I’d been the one pushing everyone away with my newfound surliness.

  Islington clearly didn’t like being schooled by his one-time rival. “Then you better resume your duties,” he turned to me, “both of you.”

  I heaved a sigh of relief once we were out of the headmaster’s clutches. At least I didn’t get detention, that was something.

  “You didn’t do it,” Wilder said as we walked down the hall. “I know you and you hate alteration.”

  I shrugged. Did he miss the part where Islington said I was excelling in all my classes?

  “You’re protecting someone else. It’s not like you to be such a reckless show off.”

  “Does it really matter?” I snapped. “I needed a way in. I have to get to know these kids for their own safety.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are you ready to talk to me yet?”

  “I just…” I glanced down the hall, but it was empty. No one was coming to save me from myself. “I just don’t feel…” I shrugged. “I don’t know how to describe it.”

  Wilder frowned, understanding crossing his features. “You won’t be here forever, Purples.”

  “And what about you?”

  “Neither will I. Thank God.”

  I snorted and swallowed a smile.

  We walked a little farther, emerging out into the main foyer of the manor. “You know, you’re beginning to sound like me when I was you age.”

  “There’s not that much of an age difference,” I huffed.

  “What are you getting at, Purples?”

  Where should I start?

  I scowled at him, doing my best to settle my churning stomach. “I know I’ve got a lot to learn—it’s hard to forget when people keep reminding me—but I’m your equal, Wilder. I’m playing the role I was ordered to, but it doesn’t mean I’m your inferior.”

  “When did I imply that?” He tilted his head to the side. “You’ve made it crystal-clear that you don’t need anyone to get by in this world, no matter how much you apparently need to learn.”

  I shook my head. I didn’t want him to call me out on my bullshit.

  “Separate the mission from whatever’s going through your head, Purples,” he murmured. “You’re only a student on the surface.”

  “When this is over, when I’ve graduated, what’ll happen then?”

  “We’
ll both be reassigned.”

  “Where? Patrol?”

  Wilder sighed and ran his hand over his face. “What you need to do is tell someone about what you did at the Necropolis. You need to come clean about your Light, Purples. Greer, Aldrich, and Ramona can help you.”

  My lips thinned. “What about you? You conveniently left your name out of the line up. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

  His gaze darkened and his eyes flashed silver, almost as if his Light was calling to mine. “What good am I when you don’t trust me anymore?”

  His words cut through me with deadly precision and I jerked away from him.

  “Scarlett.”

  I didn’t like it when he called me by my full name. It was the only time I knew he was being serious.

  My hole had gotten so deep that I didn’t know how to claw myself out of it. My own mess of feelings, secrets, and the lies I had to tell to keep them swallowed me whole. Honestly, I didn’t even know how I’d gotten here.

  Turning, I strode away from Wilder, climbing the stairs two at a time. If I was going to do anything, I was going to figure out if Human Convergence had stained the Academy, study the shite out of the ways of the Natural solider, then I was going to figure out why the druidess gave me that coin. For that, I’d have to go see Aiden in the library.

  At the end of it all, I would be so formidable, I’d outshine Wilder, the wonder boy. The Naturals and the demons wouldn’t see me coming, not by a long shot.

  “Hey! Where are you going?” Wilder called after me.

  “To make sure you never doubt me again.”

  8

  Aiden pounced as soon as I walked into the library.

  “You’ve had an eventful day.”

  “I see the gossip mill is in overdrive,” I drawled as my cheeks heated.

  “The students like to talk.” He glanced around the library, but it was fairly empty on account of it being dinnertime.

  “I was hoping you found out something about the coin I gave you,” I said, changing the subject. “I could do with a pick-me-up.”

  “A few things.” He gestured for me to follow him. “It’s a real puzzle, you know.”

  “I’m beginning to wonder if that’s what being a Natural is all about.”

  “Solving puzzles?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Depends,” he said with a chuckle. “There isn’t anything that cryptic about patrolling cities and battling demons.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “I suppose not.”

  “That coin was a beauty, but the way. I had to do some digital reconstruction, but I was able to clean the image right up. I’m still working on the text, though.”

  “Digital reconstruction?” I asked as he led me across the library to a door hidden at the back.

  “Photoshop.” He grinned and led me into what looked like an office in the aftermath of an explosion.

  Papers and books were strewn on every surface and even stacked on the floor. Amongst the piles was an iMac computer, various stained coffee cups, and just a hint of Light coming from a display case at the back. Bookshelves lined the walls, and an old fashioned framed window let it the fading light from outside.

  “Sorry about the mess,” Aiden said as he cleared off a chair so I could sit.

  It took him a while to find new homes for his research, so I turned my attention to the thrum of Light. The display case had a brass lock on it, and it was just as old-fashioned as the ones out in library—all lacquered wood and wobbly-wobbly eighteenth-century glass.

  Inside, I was surprised to see an arondight blade and promptly began to miss my own. The one in the case was much older, though. The hilt resembled more of a traditional sword with a heavy cross guard and pommel. Its blade must be huge when activated—which didn’t sound dirty at all.

  Aiden hovered over my shoulder. “Cool, huh?”

  “How old is it? It reminds me of some of the hilts at the London Sanctum. You know, the retired ones.”

  “This is one of the earliest examples I’ve found,” he explained, his eyes glinting with excitement. “The earliest use was recorded in the Codex around the year 1200. After the cataclysm, one of the knights of Camelot—whose name was Bedivere—devised a way to forge cold iron with steel in such a way that it created the Light-infused arondight blades. It took a while to perfect and he never saw them finished, but without Bedivere, we wouldn’t have a way to fight the demons as effectively as we do now. This one was forged around the year 1350, but it’s hard to tell.”

  “Shouldn’t it be in a museum somewhere?”

  “We don’t have museums,” he replied with a shrug. “The walls of the Sanctums and in the library are the only places we have to display our history.”

  I gazed at the hilt. “Shame…”

  Aiden looked as forlorn about it as I felt. His historian side was really shining through, revealing just how much the Naturals had lost in the cataclysm.

  “We can’t afford to stop and ponder the past when the future is so precarious, I suppose.” He patted the now empty chair and said, “I’ve found out some pretty interesting things about your coin.”

  “You have?” I slid into the seat as he woke up the computer from its swirling screensaver.

  “See the flame here?” He showed me a high-resolution scan of the head’s side of the coin. “It’s a symbol for power and authority. If it’s a bale seal like I suspect, then this is the organisation it ultimately belongs to, which makes deciphering this extremely important. But…” he clicked the mouse, zooming in on the image, “the more I looked at it, the more familiar it felt. Turns out,” he reached for a hardcover book on the table, “there’s a reference to it in the Codex.”

  “The Codex?”

  “Yeah. Greer is here giving lectures,” he said. “Maybe we could request that she consult the real Codex. If it’s linked to Arondight, she’ll definitely help.”

  My hackles rose and I shrugged. “Where’s the symbol?”

  “Here.” He clicked onto anther window on the computer and the twisting flame became sharper. “I was able to clean up the image so I could cross reference it with a digital copy of the Codex. The flame matches the one on this page.” He handed me his hard copy of the Codex and tapped the illuminated drawing on the left page.

  It was a Medieval-style image of a ring of standing stones in a dense forest with a night-time sky shimmering above. Runes were etched into the stones, similar to the ones on the Druidic runes the druidess had Wilder and me retrieve from that laboratory. Though it was the symbol on the rock in the centre that caught my attention. It was small, but it was there—the same twisting flame from the coin.

  “Do you think these stones still exist?” I asked.

  “Maybe, but they could be anywhere. Nature has a way of reclaiming places like these.”

  The text on the other page was in Latin, or some early form of English—it was hard to tell.

  “What does it say?” I pointed to the text.

  “It’s gibberish, for lack of a better word.”

  “It doesn’t say anything?” I frowned and held the book closer to my face like it would all suddenly make sense. “At all?”

  “There are a few pages like that,” he replied. “Many of them don’t have cyphers. That’s why I think you should ask Greer. The true Codex can sometimes reveal much more, especially when needed. There’s so much Light infused in it that it takes a skillful eye to peel back all the layers.”

  It was so one of those moments, but I couldn’t think of anything worse than speaking with Greer right now. Not after the mess I’d made with taking the rap for Trent and standing off with Wilder.

  I ran my fingers over the illumination, the paper devoid of the Light that flowed through the real thing. I was letting my jealousy ruin my chance at finding my lost family and a clue to where Arondight might be hidden. I couldn’t let a stupid crush be the reason the world fell to Darkness.

  I’d explain it to Greer. As the protecto
r of the Codex, she’d be able to consult it and help decipher the meaning behind the coin, the coded page, and the druidess’ words. The future is unwritten, but the past holds all the secrets. All the power. Past losses, reborn futures.

  Then I’d make things right with Wilder. He was too important to me to lose forever. He’d kept my secrets, concealed the truth about my affinity with Arondight, and how I’d destroyed Markzoth, all while I acted like a crazy hormonal teenager.

  “Scarlett?”

  Aiden was staring at me, his head tilted to the side.

  “Huh?”

  “Are you okay? You spaced out there for a moment.”

  “I, uh… I was thinking about stuff.”

  “Well, the mystery is just deepening.” He shrugged and took the book out of my hands. “So far, I’ve only uncovered more questions.”

  “It’s okay,” I replied. “I’m really starting to get used to it.”

  Aiden laughed and shook his head. “I’ll keep digging,” he went on. “But you should really ask Greer.”

  I nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.” Right after I sucked it up and swallowed my pride.

  Standing, I brushed off my jeans. “Hey, thanks for all your help with this. I couldn’t have done it on my own.”

  He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “You’re welcome.”

  I decided to go see Greer before I lost my nerve, which was the moment I left the library.

  As a glutton for punishment, I put my head down and ventured across the Academy to the rooms where I knew she was staying. Not so ironically, it was the top floor of the rear wing where the posh apartments were located.

  Once upon a time, the owner of the manor would’ve called these rooms home. There was a private bedroom, dressing room, sitting room, music room, and various others that had no reason other than to rub wealth into visitors faces. Now, they hosted important visitors to the Academy. Visitors like Greer.

  When I approached, I was surprised to find the hallway empty. I half expected there to be guards considering the apparent threat that lingered here. Perhaps she didn’t want to raise suspicion and compromise our mission.

  Ahead, the main door to the sitting room was ajar and I lingered as the sounds of a hushed conversation ebbed though the crack.

 

‹ Prev