Shadow Assassins (The Second Realm Trilogy) (20 page)

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty

 

Night fell with an eerie silence over Moonriver Academy. The great castle stood in ruins, with rubble strewn carelessly around the school grounds. All around the rubble were bodies, of both Emeralde knights and the occupants of the school. The school grounds had turned into a grizzly war zone.

Evangeline stood at one end of the ruin, her shoulder horribly pulled out of place. She had dislocated it for sure, but that was about the worst damage she had obtained. She was definitely one of the lucky ones.

Once the knights had broken into the castle, all hell had broken loose. Freed from their teacher's protective barriers, the students of Moonriver Academy were fast to defend themselves and their school. Brave as they were, they weren't prepared for full warfare with men who had been specifically trained to kill. These were students, not warriors. Sure, some of them had done some damage and severely injured or even killed some of the knights, but they still had a lot to go up against.

In the onslaught, it looked as though the deaths around her were evenly split, more or less. There were plenty of men in plate armor to lie beside those who had occupied the school. The deaths pained her. These kids were younger than she was and they hadn't hesitated to fight.

She glanced around her. As darkness settled over the ruined school, magic had been put to use, lighting funeral pyres or just fire pits to keep the darkness away. The burning smell of hair and skin made her eyes water. She skittered away from the pyres, searching. She had been separated from her fellow Assassins in the melee. She didn't even know if they were alive.

“Evie!”

She turned at the sound of Marco's voice. She saw her friend some distance away, limping towards her. His left leg had been scraped badly, enough to tear away the cloth of his pant leg from the knee down. Horrible scratches were down his calf, blood pooling on his shoes and the ground around him.

She hurried to him and asked if he was okay. His answer was mostly yes, although there was obvious damage. As he spoke, he held his normal little smirk. The smirk was a relief to see, so normal within the remains of the battlefield they stood on.

He helped put her shoulder back into place. A scream ripped from her lips as it was forced back into place, but the worst was over soon enough. In return, she pulled a knife from her pocket and cut away Marco's good pant leg, severing it into several cloth strips used to bandage his bleeding leg. It was a horrible patch job but it would have to do for now.

Together, they walked through the rubble, seeking Kaleb. They found him in a half-transformed state, his skin an odd tiger striped pattern, his eyes glowing yellow and green, reflecting like a cat's in the dim light. He didn't seem to notice them approach.

Evangeline checked to see if he had claws or fangs at his disposal, but all he had were hands balled into fists and striped with orange and black. His face was half-transformed as well, nose and mouth fused together to make a sort of muzzle or snout, his ears higher up than they should have been. He looked altogether alien and in pain. He must have been too exhausted to transform all the way.

“Kaleb, it's Evie,” she said to him, gently.

That strange, half-formed nose twitched, scenting her.

“You need to transform back. You're stuck in a half-state.”

The form before her made a small mewling sound, both petulant and pathetic. He closed his eyes and his body shimmered for a moment as he gathered his thoughts and concentrated. He pulled his body back together into a total human state. The orange and black striping melted into his normal skin tone, his eyes shifting back and his ears sinking to their normal location. Once the transformation had been completed, he fell into a deep sleep, not even acknowledging his friends.

Evangeline tried not to take offense as he fell into sleep without
so much as a hello. He had breached his magical limit in that fight, shifting from animal to animal when he found a form that suited him better. He knew better than to shift so fast but he had been caught up in the battle. The result was his body needing to rest before it had finished transforming.

“He's lucky that didn't happen to him during the battle,” Marco said. The usual humor and sarcasm had been sucked from his voice, leaving him strangely quiet.

Evangeline nodded. “He would have been killed for sure.”

She and Marco stayed in that spot for a moment, keeping watch over their friend. Around them, the survivors were searching for the injured and the dead. The dead were dragged aside by crying, retching peers, while the injured were pulled to their feet and brought to a group.

“No!”

Her head whipped around at the sound. She recognized her twin's voice, even as it was thick with grief.

Dante knelt some distance away over a man, a body Evangeline instantly recognized.
Oh, no.

“No!” Dante cried again. The angel-demon hybrid broke down into tears, even as a boy and his black wolf tried to pull her away. Once they did, she grew desperate, her crying louder, harder, choking her to the point of incoherency. Her friend gave up on separating her and instead pulled her into a hug.

Dreading what she was to be looking at, Evangeline approached, slowly. There was a crowd of onlookers gathering to see their fallen teacher and some were crying with the same fervor as Dante. Others watched sadly.

“Okay, everyone, move back,” Evangeline ordered, with as much authority in her voice as she could muster.

Some of the crowd looked at her, then to Dante before they moved back. Others didn't budge. She didn't care. She moved through the crowd, not caring who she shoved out of her way.

When she came to the body everyone was gathered around, she choked back a sob. She might not have liked vampires much, but Dirk didn't deserve to die. He had been a friend in the short time she had stayed in the castle under his care. His quick humor and subtle authority was to be admired. Now, with him
laying limp on the rubble, she couldn't help but wonder who had dared to end his life, who had dared to go after him. He had bled out horribly, but not at the spot where he was laying now. There was a noticeable stab wound in his chest, near his heart, and above his gut. His clothes had been burned badly on one side, as had his hair. Despite the grisly ravaging of his body, his eyes were still closed, his expression more or less relaxed. He could have been sleeping for all they knew; except his chest was eerily still, adding on to the haunting reality that although he could have slept, he would never wake.

Evangeline moved towards Dante, again bringing alarmed stares and whispers about their identical looks. She recognized the boy that held her twin. Dimitri, the Immortal. He looked bruised and scraped, but mostly unharmed.

“Dante,” she said softly.

Her twin turned and she swore she could have felt the pain rolling off of her as it had a physical form. Instead of offering her twin words of comfort, she pulled her into a hug.

“I'm so sorry,” was all she could say.

Around the school, similar horrifying discoveries were being made as the injured and the dead continued to be separated. Different students and teachers went through exactly what Dante went through. The only difference was, while Evangeline and Dimitri were the only ones to comfort Dante, peers flocked together in groups of
friends, to comfort each other. It left Evangeline feeling resentful of the survivors, angry that they would ignore her twin when she was in just as much pain as they were. This wasn't a time to hold schoolyard grudges, this was the time to gather together, strong.

“Don't let him stay here,” Dante whispered, her voice ragged. Sobs wracked her body but she managed to choke out, “Funeral...pyre.”

Evangeline had learned some of the ancient school traditions in her short stay on campus. One that was hardly used in everyday life was the insistence on a funeral pyre. It was a school-wide belief that their peers deserved a pyre big enough to reach the heavens. There was no cemetery or burial rights to be had, but a pyre big enough and hot enough to go beyond this world and carry the dead into the next.

She and Marco helped carry Dirk's body over to where the pyres were being arranged. Dante had reached out to Dirk before she allowed them to carry him away. She took the amethyst charm from around his neck and placed it around hers as her reminder of him, before she allowed them to head to the pyre. Her heartbroken sobbing carried across the barren school lot and even though it seemed cruel, Evangeline tried not to hear it. Her heart was breaking for her sister. In the small amount of time that she had seen Dante and Dirk together, she saw the love and respect that her twin had for the vampire. No mere friend, but Dirk was a sort of father figure to her, in the same way that Evangeline had Dr. Fyrn. To lose Dirk was beyond what Evangeline could comprehend.

A fire mage had naturally selected himself as the one in charge of the funeral pyres. Dirk's body was arranged around a gathering of stones and wood, before the pyre was lit.

Dirk's body dissolved in a blur of tears as Evangeline watched. She made her way over to Dante and held her twin close. The two cried as the fire carried Dirk from their world to the world beyond.

It was as if the heavens were listening. As night fell, dark clouds gathered overhead. A gentle mist of rain fell on the survivors, as if even the heavens were mourning for their fallen peers. It wasn't enough to put the pyres out, but steam and smoke rose thickly above them.

Dante wiped tears and rain from her eyes. “I won't let his death be for naught.”

Evangeline heard her soft, angry voice. “What?”

“I'm not going to let him die for nothing!”

Dante's voice chilled Evangeline more than the raining mist did. In her voice was more than just anger, but pure, unfiltered hatred and the promise to avenge her fallen friend. No matter the cost. Evangeline knew better than to say anything or try to stop her. Dante wasn't going to listen at this point. She wouldn't be stopped anyway.

Sometimes, comfort was all that could be given, even when the person who needed it wasn't listening. So Evangeline continued to hold her twin close, with the smell of burning wood and smoke on her twin's hair and clothing, on herself and in her mind. The sights and smells of the pyre would be on her mind long after the fires went out. It was one of those things that haunted her, even when she closed her eyes.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty One

 

To say it was cold in the mountains was an understatement. Kaydee wasn't prepared for the cold, or the snow. Her sneakers caked up with snow fast when she tried walking. Eventually it got to the point where she grew tired of slipping and sliding on the icy ground and just raised the earth up a bit, shaking the snow and ice aside as a raised pathway was formed. It wasn't cheating, really, it was just making things easier on herself. The ground lowered as she passed but Atrimalous growled his disapproval, saying that her changing the mountain terrain could have unwanted effects. Leta told him it wasn’t a big deal, but he was insistent, saying that avalanches were unpredictable in these areas.

“Okay, let's see you do better,” Leta challenged.

Atrimalous sighed heavily and held out his hand. Gusts of wind blew the snow out of their path in a straight line. The wind seemed to be coming from his hand, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Better?” he sneered.

Kaydee couldn't help but stare. “A fire mage
and
a wind mage?”

Atrimalous stared at her for a moment, realizing that she had seen the fire he called earlier. He didn't bother answering her, instead, choosing to lead the group, walking fast and ahead of the two women, silent as the mountains around them.

“He has...unusual powers,” Leta said, trying to find words to explain. “I haven't seen the full extent of them myself.”

From what Kaydee had learned, it was near impossible to control more than one element. It wasn't as though it was a learned skill; mages were born with the ability to control only one element. She could only control earth and although earth meant the plants in the ground, the rocks and the dirt, it was still one solid element. This man before her had two separate elements.

There were ways to unlock control over more magical powers, but to do that took dark magic and evil intent. Kaydee shuddered to think of what Atrimalous had done to push his powers beyond that of what he had to have been born with.

They continued through the mountains. Kaydee had no sense of direction up here, no way to tell if they were going in the right direction. All she had to see was the lantern Atrimalous was holding up ahead. He walked at a swift pace ahead of them, blowing snow out of their way and waiting for them to catch up, before starting again. This relentless, daunting pattern continued until Kaydee thought she might die of exhaustion. When Leta saw her panting hard, trying to catch her breath, she suggested that they stop.

“We're almost there,” Atrimalous argued.

“And you'll have a dead girl on your hands if you continue to push her, tough guy.”

There was more grumbling from him, but he relented and let Kaydee catch her breath. When they set off again, Kaydee felt as though her legs were made out of lead. How was Atrimalous walking as though nothing were wrong?

To her relief, it didn't take long for their path to even out from an upward slope to something more level. The path widened into a large circular area, flat, hidden among the mountain peaks. The mountains around them blocked the wind for the most part. On the far side of the circular area was a large cropping of rocks that formed a sort of cave. Several stretches of cloth had been pulled tight over the rocks.
Some, damp and tattered, fluttered in the wind like eerie, ruined flags.

Atrimalous pointed to a large, roughly circular hole in the ground, where flames rose up. The fire pit burned brightly, lighting up the area around the pit and the makeshift tent.

“That's where we'll find him.”

Before they could make their way to the fire pit, there was a roaring noise above them. They looked up. A large shape was making its way towards them. Kaydee cried out but Atrimalous kept her from running. As the object moved closer, she realized that it was a creature – large and scaled, with talons the size of her whole arm. Great leathery wings beat down, stirring up snow and dirt as it approached the ground. Kaydee could only stare at what she saw. With everything she had encountered in the Second Realm, surely a dragon wouldn't be the thing that shocked her the most, right?

But no, that was a dragon in front of her.

This was a massive dragon that stood at more than twice her height, with heavy muscle and sharp, deadly golden scales. Great, spiked wings matched the horns on the creature's head and on the tip of its tail. The creature stared down at them with golden
slitted eyes, intelligence beyond their understanding flickering through its gaze. It opened its long-snouted mouth and let out a plaintive roar to the human on its back.

Kaydee had almost missed the man who rode on the dragon's back. Along the spikes that graced the ridge of the dragon's back was a man dressed in leather from head to toe, from the brown huntsman pants he wore to the hood over his head. The hood was attached to the jacket he wore, much like the hoodies Kaydee encountered in the First Realm. Around his waist was a leather bag with a long shoulder strap. It looked filled, but with what, Kaydee didn't know. The hood blew back as the majestic creature flapped its wings and made its final descent, touching down on the ground on the opposite end of the circular area. The area had seemed vast and empty without the dragon there, but as the dragon landed, half of the empty space had been eaten up by its body.

The man leaped down from the creature's back, straightening his wind-tousled and untidy black hair. His golden eyes seemed identical to the dragon's, minus the vertically slit pupils. Familiarity shone in his eyes, although Kaydee didn't know why.

“Atrimalous, you rat bastard! What are you doing on my lonely mountain top?”

Was that a smile flickering across her stoic savior's lips? Kaydee stared. The smile seemed so out of place for Atrimalous, not having cracked more than a sneer in the time she had been with him. Just as fast as it had appeared, it also vanished, replaced by a more customary smirk.

“Your lonely mountain top is far too difficult to travel at night!”

“It's not any easier in the day time either, my friend!”

“They know each other?” Kaydee whispered to Leta.

“Apparently,” was the equally quiet answer she received.

The two men greeted each other somewhere between where the women stood and where the dragon rested. The dragon riding man pulled Atrimalous into a tight hug, giving him a nice slap on the back to follow.

“Haven't seen you in the longest time,” he said, sobering. “Not since, well, you know.”

“Yeah.”
The expression Atrimalous wore darkened, remembering. “I know.”

The dragon rider slapped him on the back again. “Now's not the time, friend. Who are the lovely ladies you travel with?”

It took a moment for Atrimalous to gather his thoughts. He hurriedly introduced Leta and Kaydee, saying that Kaydee needed an escort to Aurialis.

“And you sought me of all people?” the rider asked, incredulously. “I should shed a tear, I'm so honored.”

“Always that sarcasm,” his friend spat back. “Are you not glad to see me, then?”

“It's not that, friend, but you know they
do
say I'm in exile for a reason.”

“I thought it was self-imposed?”

The rider laughed. “Bah, details, details! Come, let us get out of the cold!”

He escorted them into his makeshift cave, or tent as it were, introducing himself as James the Exiled, as the seer had mentioned.

“Of course, I didn't add that title on myself,” he added as he used a burning torch mounted on the wall to light the others in the tent. “Other people seemed to think it was catchy, though!”

Kaydee couldn't help but smile at this well-spirited man. How could he be so cheerful when he was supposedly in exile to a lonely, windy, bitterly cold mountain top?

James offered to make them a stew – the best damned wild rabbit stew this side of the Ice Dragon Mountains, he bragged. He had a small store of vegetables and a rabbit carcass from the leather bag at his waist. Kaydee tried not to watch as he skinned the poor lump of flesh and prepared it for the stew, but at the same time, she was starving, hungry enough to eat it.

As James prepared their meal, he and Atrimalous drew into hushed conversation some distance away from the women. Leta paid them no mind and instead turned to Kaydee, drawing her fellow female into some conversation as well.

The stew was prepared in the cave, but cooked over the fire pit outside. As they moved locations, James brought up their journey to Aurialis.

“I want to head out towards Aurialis while it's still dead of night. Don't want
no one to see my Night Spark there.” he nodded towards the great golden dragon, who was sleeping, for the moment. “Hard to miss a beast that big! I don't need word going out to the Aeriad nation that I'm on the same continent as them, you hear?”

Kaydee nodded,
then asked, “His name is Night Spark?”

He nodded. “Well,
Nyyargareth
in his native tongue, see, but Night Spark is easier on me. Dragon's tongue, that's a hard one to understand.”

Kaydee didn't understand at all, except that maybe dragons had an entire language to themselves that people could understand. Despite the potion she had drunk back in the First Realm, she couldn't understand that strange word he had said was Night Spark's native
name. All she heard was that strange, delightfully foreign rolling of syllables.

In no time, their stew was cooked and they settled around the fire pit with wooden bowls and spoons, eating. The stew had smelled delicious as it was cooking but it tasted even better. Kaydee was starving, not having eaten much throughout the day. She finished the stew fast.

As the others finished up, James reached into the leather bag at his hip and drew out a large glass bottle filled with liquid and stopped with a cork. He popped the cork and gave a small laugh as he drew everyone's attention.

Pungent odor filled the air, taking over that of the delicious food.

“What
is
that?” Leta asked, eying the bottle warily.

“Smells like rank piss,” Atrimalous added.

James laughed. “Well, there's piss
in
it. Dragon's Warning, right here. It's a potent mix of territory marking and spell herbs to keep strange men out. You can never trust the men out here, you know! This protects my camp while I'm gone and I thought it was more polite than having Night Spark do it fresh in front of our lovely ladies.”

With that, he winked at Leta and Kaydee.

“Couldn't you wait until we left?” Atrimalous asked his friend.

“It needs to seep into the ground before we leave. And we're leaving after you're done anyway!”

That said, James stood up and went to the farthest end of the camp ground. He poured the liquid in a small, thin stream, working his way around the perimeter of the territory. Night Spark woke up at the scent and moved out of his human's way, his nostrils flaring as he recognized his own scent. A low, approving growl escaped him.

With that finished, he went back into his cave and lugged out an enormous wooden carriage without wheels. Atrimalous ran to help him move the carriage.

“Now, normally I wouldn't put this on Night Spark; he hates being saddled down. But I won't have no green horns try to ride him like they was me!” he panted, then whistled to the dragon. “C'mon, you great oaf! You know the drill!”

The dragon whined, in a rolling rumble of sound like thunder, but obeyed. His long, golden neck laid down flat on the ground and the rest of his body followed. The men lifted the carriage onto the dragon's back, where it nestled between two of the spikes on his back. From inside the carriage came thick leather straps that held the carriage to the dragon's neck and body. The contraption looked ridiculous but James insisted it was better than trying to have two ladies try get comfortable while they rode hundreds of feet up in the air.

James pulled one more item from the carriage, a rolled up ladder made of rope. He dangled it from two hooks on the floor inside the carriage and helped the ladies in. Leta made quick work of the rope ladder and tumbled into the carriage. Kaydee followed with less grace, hesitating as the ladder swayed. When she made it into the carriage, she fell into a plush seat of faded maroon fabric. There was only enough room for her and Leta in the wooden box. She looked out the windows on the front and sides and saw the men climb up to the spiked neck, resting against the spikes themselves as if it was the most comfortable motion in the world.

“Like old times, huh?” James said to his friend. When Atrimalous nodded, he smiled and called out louder, “Hang on to your hats, ladies! Night Spark, we fly!”

The dragon stretched his wings once before he took off into the night. The carriage on his back made no difference to him; he flew as if it wasn't even there.

“Away we go, into the night!” James cried over the roaring, vicious air.

Kaydee watched as the mountain they had been standing on grew smaller and smaller as they rose up into the night sky.

Evie, Marco, Kaleb, wait for me. I'll be with you soon.

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