Necromancer Academy
Stones of Amaria Book 1
by
Lindsey R. Loucks
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Stones of Amaria
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
About the Author
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Also By Lindsey R. Loucks
Copyright
Necromancer Academy (Stones of Amaria Book 1) © October 2019 Lindsey R. Loucks
Copyright notice: All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
COVER: Design by Definition
Editing: Heather Hambel Curley
Stones of Amaria
Be sure to check out the other authors’ series in the Stones of Amaria world! You don’t have to read them all to understand what happens in this one, but you might as well because books! ☺
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Chapter One
I never thought I'd find myself with a dead man’s hand in my pocket while on a boat that smelled like goats that was taking me one step closer to committing a murder. Life sure had thrown some unexpected twists at me lately, all of which had splintered and cracked my foundation, irreparably changing me from the inside out. Gone was the girl who started singing right after leaping out of bed in the morning, who clapped at random, often inappropriate times, and who was drunk on happiness.
That girl was dead. She'd died right along with her brother.
I was a shell of that girl, a ghost, an empty husk whose heart had been crushed. Not just once, but over and over since it had happened. So I wrapped my heart tight with thorny rage, whispered a spell, and brought it back to life. Soon it would eat through my chest and devour my enemy.
But right now, I couldn’t focus on much of anything because of the overwhelming smell of goat.
"Aura flare," I whispered into the brittle pages of the old book I held.
The slightest magical breeze ruffled over the tops of everyone's heads in the rows of seats in front of me. Not the sea air, though, since we sat in the lower level of the boat. A teenage boy near the front turned to give the person seated behind him the stink eye.
Really, I was doing him and everyone else a favor. Me too, since I was trying to clear my nose while practicing my dark magic.
"Sicut odor pluviam," I whispered.
Wispy blue coils that smelled like a storm rose up from below everyone's seats. Instantly, the boat smelled a thousand times better, but the coils kept winding up, up, wrapping around people's legs and climbing higher. Lacy fingers unfurled in front of their faces, stretched around their necks, and squeezed.
Oh crap. That wasn't supposed to happen.
The passengers who'd been sleeping lurched awake. Everyone gasped and choked and clawed at their necks.
I turned the pages of my book, looking for a counter-spell before I killed everyone on board. My heartbeat galloped into my throat, almost too loud to concentrate. My eyes raced across spell after spell, but none of them undid the one I'd just done. Think. Think.
I glanced up to gauge how much time they had left and immediately wished I hadn't. Some passengers were turning a horrific shade of blue.
Panic shook through me so hard that the words in the giant Book of Black Shadows blurred together into a jumbled mess. I only wanted to murder those who deserved it, not people who smelled like goats. The rain scent thickened in the air, warmed it, until I felt drops on the top of my head. The wispy fingers turned dark as a thunderstorm as they squeezed people's necks harder, and devilish points grew from the tips of the fingers like claws.
I had to do something. Any kind of counter-spell or something to redirect the magic toward something else or an off button. Anything.
My gaze caught on one word: diluti. Like dilute? Good enough. "Diluti exponentia."
A torrent of water crashed down from the wooden ceiling of the boat’s bottom level and soaked everyone. The wispy chokeholds drifted away like clouds and dissipated. The passengers sucked in air and coughed and sucked in more air.
I blew out a short, relieved breath and sagged down in my seat, so low I hoped no one could see me. The standing water I’d created sloshed almost to my knees. The brittle pages of the Book of Black Shadows were soaked through, so I was pretty much done with magic for now. I shoved it into my satchel and clutched it to my chest, my cheeks flaming. I'd done that spell before with no problems, both the white magic version and the black, two sides of the same coin that produced the exact same thing. Maybe I'd said my Latin wrong, and the result had been something entirely unexpected. I didn't think so, though.
The passengers were starting to question each other now, if they'd seen what had happened. The water at our feet took the goat smell and shoved it so deep up my nose I could taste it. My stomach churned at that, and then again when we hit several rough waves in a row. We must've been getting close to Eerie Island.
I twisted out the water from my hair, watching some of the coal I'd used to dye it black swirl into the lake at my feet. Gotta be honest, this was not going well so far. The trip to Necromancer Academy was supposed to be the easy part. After that came the murder part. Oh, I saw the problem with killing someone at a school like where I was headed, but my target would stay dead. Not only that, but they'd wish they had never set foot in my house. Of that, I would make certain.
The boat slowed, so we were probably nearing the dock. I was ready to be there and for everything that came after. I’d trained the entire summer, created plans within plans. I wouldn’t fail. Leo deserved that much.
I stood with the other passengers, doing my best to blend in. Some of their eyes were bloodshot and some had bruising handprints around their throats.
I tugged up my cloak collar and cast my eyes downward, muttering, "Bind thee in health, Protect mind and soul too, Boost vigor and happiness, Make it all renew." A healing spell that was nowhere near Latin. That seemed to perk them up a little, and hey look, it didn't appear to go haywire. Yet. But that spell was all white magic. Perhaps the universe was trying to tell me something about using spells from the Book of Black Shadows. Perhaps I'd learn to listen, but not today.
The boat finally slowed to a stop, and since I sat in the back row, I waited for everyone to trail out in front of me, their legs splashing through the standing water and making its waves crash against my knees. I shivered, but not from cold. There, at the front of the boat, stood the captain, glaring right at me.
Oh good
. This should end well.
After the next to last person filed out in front of me, I clutched my satchel tighter and followed, my chin held high. What was the captain going to do? Take me back to Maraday for messing with his boat and passengers? He could try, but not much could keep me away from Necromancer Academy. I'd given up admission to White Magic Academy to be here with almost all of my tuition already paid there at WMA. My money. Nearly every coin I'd earned since age ten when I'd started working as a healer, and I couldn't get that money back. Because if I did, that would mean dropping out, and for now, I wanted Mom and Dad to think I’d followed my dream to White Magic Academy. It was the least I could do after what they’d been through, however temporary that façade was.
"You going to buy me a new vessel?" the captain asked as I came closer. His shaggy dark hair and beard nearly hid the red bandana at his neck.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about."
"There's always at least one of you gits making trouble before every term at that sinful school."
The fury in his tone surprised me some, though I tried to keep it from showing on my face. Necromancer Academy had been here for hundreds of years. I didn't really know what to expect since I’d never been there before, but I figured most people were used to it and everything it represented. I guessed I was wrong.
"Okay..." I stopped in front of him, completely soaked now from my thighs down. "You think I had something to do with the water on the boat?"
"Yes. I do.” He crossed his arms, his sharp eyes seeming to miss nothing. “And you're going to fix it before you even think about getting off this boat."
Curious that he knew which school I headed to, and yet he didn't seem afraid. At all. I'd been brushing up on my black magic and knew some horrific spells. He must've known some counter-spells, even though I didn't get that vibe from him. I could sense magic on people, sometimes even smell it or feel it pressing against my skin. Not with him though.
"How do you suggest I fix it?" I asked.
"Not the same way you caused it."
"Why is that?"
"Magic don’t work on Eerie Island outside the gates of your sin school. For protection against you heathens."
"But I did it—"
"Ah, so you admit you did it now." He raised his finger higher than his quirked eyebrows.
I blew out a breath. Well, he'd caught me there.
"The magic starts to work again the farther out to sea you go." He shook his raised finger. "Starts to. It's wobbly before it evens out again."
No wonder my smell-better spell had gone awry. "So if you don’t want your boat fixed by magic, then what?"
He held his hand out to me and rubbed his fingers together. "That's what."
I sighed. "How much?"
"Enough to go back to Maraday and hire a mage to do a drying spell."
"I don't know how much that will be."
"Me neither, but pay up." He waved his hand impatiently.
Grinding my teeth together, I dug in my satchel for my coin bag buried at the bottom. Since most of my money had gone to WMA, I didn't have much at all, and what I did have was for food at Necromancer Academy. I'd picked up more odd jobs and scraped every last coin together to pay for my first semester here. I wouldn't need to go here any longer than that. In fact, I’d likely be out in less than a week.
I opened my coin bag and started to shake a few out into my palm, but the captain plucked the whole thing from me.
"This'll do," he said and turned toward the door, a smug smile on his face.
"Hey, no, absolutely not. I need that money." I marched after him as he stomped up the steps to the main level of the boat.
"Should've thought of that before you ruined my boat," he said over his shoulder.
"Your boat smells like sweaty goat balls," I snapped. "I was trying to keep from suffocating."
He tossed his head back in a laugh and then jumped down on the dock. "And guess where your money is now, miss. Right next to my sweaty goat balls."
My stomach curled as he walked away from me. That was everything I had. Other than the hunk of cheese and bread I'd slipped inside my satchel back home this morning—now thoroughly soaked, I was sure—I would starve. And there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Not magic since I now stood on Eerie Island, not until I entered the gates of Necromancer Academy. And then? I hadn’t seen any conjuring spells in the Book of Black Shadows, and if I had...well, guess who doesn’t know Latin all that well? I fail more times than I succeed unless I practice constantly, and by then, I’d be dead by starvation.
A dark voice slithered around inside my skull, one I'd had to work hard to silence. "Murder," it said. Murders plural, if I decided the captain needed a lethal dose of my anger as well.
When the happy, song-in-my-heart version of myself died, I'd buckled under the rage and let it consume me. Every part of me burned with it, and I lashed out like a feral wildcat. It took a lot of time and self-control to rise from the ashes of my former self and center my being so I could sort of function again. To not be so obsessed with murderous fury that I could go on living.
No, I wasn't a killer. Yet. My first and last victim already had a target on his back, and it wasn't the captain. I would just have to scrounge for food. Steal it if I had to. I wouldn’t be there long anyway.
I found my trunk among everyone else's, half submerged on the muddy shore. Gods forbid the luggage handlers push them back five feet to a sandy area. Hissing my frustration through my teeth, I grabbed the handle on one side of my trunk, and when I hefted it, broken glass clanked inside.
Sonofabitch.
I angled myself in the direction of the academy, even though I couldn't yet see it through the thick forest, and dragged the trunk behind me along a worn path into the copse of trees. The other passengers had taken their luggage and had swept toward the beach. Other than the academy, Eerie Island was known for its fishing industry. I suspected those people I’d almost killed were here for jobs. Honest to gods, I hoped my healing spell gave them a boost.
As I walked, I wondered why there weren't other students cutting across the island like me. Surely I wasn't the last one to arrive.
The trees towered above me, their oversized green leaves blocking out the already meager sunlight. A chill seeped into my wet clothes, and before long, my teeth clicked together loudly. Eerie Island wasn't big, though, and soon, I spotted a pair of large gates ahead. They were open but not inviting.
Beyond the gates, warped trees twisted at odd angles, the bark on them shadowed black. Or maybe they really were black. Some had spindly limbs while others were about as wide as the trunk I dragged behind me. All of them looked long dead. A stone path wound through them, and the last curve disappeared into darkness.
Unease dragged down my back. I'd had no idea what to expect, but when I imagined Necromancer Academy, I envisioned...life. Undead life, but still life. This was not it.
Hardening my will, I stepped through the gate and onto the path. Immediately, it struck me how quiet it was without the buzz of insects or the skitters of wildlife. Even the sea breeze had died. Maybe it was this way on purpose, an eventual assignment for students once classes started.
The path led around a few bends, and then a monstrous nightmare towered above me. Necromancer Academy. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen. Made from drab gray stone, it spiked toward the boiling clouds overhead and spread two wings to either side, but the angles were all wrong. There were too many cutting in and out in irregular intervals all across the top, the sides, even the foundation. Slabs stuck out from the rooftop like turrets, but they weren't shaped like the structures. The worst thing of all? No windows. None. Just a large arched double door at the front.
Staring at the building unsettled me, and if I didn't have a valid reason to be here, I might have run. Instead, I stepped toward the towering staircase leading to the closed doors and pulled one open.
Inside, I received another shock. The place bustled with
life. Students zipped around the entryway carrying books, laughing, calling out to each other. And they looked...normal. All of them wore black cloaks, which was standard, but some had added their own color flares. A few even wore hats or scarves like I used to or had sparkly charms dangling from their wrists, ears, and necks. In my all-black cloak, dress, and boots, I was the one who stood out.
The architecture inside was similar to the outside with all wrong angles and two more towering staircases that zigzagged up the stone walls to a black abyss above. Across the expansive entryway floor, all sorts of symbols were etched into the stone. They pulsed with movement under the torches lining the walls, and if I stared too long, I was sure I would lose my balance from dizziness. The whole place made me want to squeeze my eyes shut.
"Name," a bored male voice said from my side.
I glanced up. Not the guy I was looking for. He was older, taller, with patches of facial hair on his chin.
"Dawn," I said. "Dawn Cleohold."
He consulted his roll of parchment in his hands. "Well, Dawn Dawn Cleohold, your room is on the second floor, room 2B. Drop your things there and then go to the Gathering Room."
"The Gathering Room?"
He pointed with his furry chin to my right and through another pair of massive, arched double doors. Torchlights flickered from within, brighter than out here, but I couldn't see what was inside.
He turned and said over his shoulder, "And hurry. We're about to start."
“Start what?” Not classes, unless we had late-afternoon classes? The only information I'd gotten was that I'd been accepted, where to send tuition, and to be here today.
He didn’t answer and I didn’t actually expect a response. I was on my own...but where was I going?
"2B, 2B," I repeated, scanning the two sets of stairs, as well as people's faces.
He was here, somewhere. I'd imagined what I'd do when I first saw him, and what he would do once he saw me too. We would likely find out soon enough.
Necromancer Academy: Book 1 Page 1