Shadow Walker (Neteru Academy Books) (14 page)

Valencio glanced down the row at her, his expression as dumbfounded as hers.

They turned back to the tapestries to see Val’s mother, who was all warrior rage in the air, firing silver-tipped arrows into a cloud of circling, gargoylelike Harpies. His dad was in full daywalker mode, sending black charges into a cloud of demon bats, fangs glistening with the blood of battle.

They’d never seen their parents like this. They had thought that all the stories told around the dinner table and at holiday meals were inflated by memory with a little dash of ego for seasoning.

All around them the students were going wild. Cheering and shouting as Uncle Mike lowered a shoulder cannon and took out a charging werewolf squad with a hallowed-earth-packed rocket, then threw down his spent weapon, hurtled over two Amanthra serpent demons and full-on tackled a werewolf, snapping its neck. Before the thing could recover to attack again, her father was at her uncle’s side to behead the creature with one furious strike.

Sarah’s attention bounced between the crowd and the tapestry screen, but then she saw her grandmother in the mix and thought she’d pass out.

“Nana…?” Her voice came out as a disbelieving croak. Eyes wide, Sarah sat with her mouth open, staring up, watching her nana Marlene gore two fast-moving vampires with her walking stick and then explode them into burning embers with a white-light discharge from the same staff.

But when her baba Shabazz shed his clothes to transform into a huge, muscular black jaguar, she felt for Allie to help hold her up. Baba was a shape-shifter, not just a Tactical? Oh. My. God!

Allie practically started hyperventilating as she kept her gaze glued to the images, staring in disbelief as her parents fought back-to-back, her mother charging stones with white light as her father hurled them into a thundering demon cavalry. Demon slime clung to her father’s blond hair, while her mother’s red hair rose from her shoulders in an angry static charge.

“My-my-my mom and dad…” Allie stammered in a shocked whisper.

“Un-frickin-believable,” Tami whispered in awe. “Uncle Dan always seemed so…so…regular.” Then she stopped speaking for a moment as her own father jumped on a Harley, pump shotgun cocked, and rode into a demon whirl of Harpies shouting obscenities while he unloaded hallowed-earth-packed shells.

Tami’s whoop joined that of the entire Great Hall when her dad rode out of a rain of cinders and her mom dropped out of a vampire fold-away onto the back of his bike wearing black leather and sporting fangs. Hyacinth practically froze on her stool as she watched her grandfather open a vein so her mother could finger-paint a dragon on the side of a building with his blood. Hyacinth’s mouth fell open when the monster came off the bricks to assist her dad, who was whirling like a white-light Merlin.

Yeah, okay, everybody knew Aunt Jasmine drew living art…but damn. And everybody knew Uncle Bobby was a wizard, had seen him do cool parlor tricks…but watching him ride a dragon, sending lightning bolts into a flying demon air squadron, was something to behold. The man had no fear.

The cheering reached a deafening level as her uncle Jose mowed down everything in his path, and then Aunt Inez pulled the pin on a grenade, lobbed it toward a water tower and blew back half a unit of demon infantry when the blessed water fanned out like napalm.

This is what the Neteru Guardian team did when they weren’t home?

This is what she and the rest of the compound gang had to live up to?

Sarah felt light-headed. The queasiness was back with a vengeance. She clasped her hands together to keep them from trembling and stared at the floor.

Riveted, she couldn’t have stopped watching the images careening across the tapestries if she’d wanted to. Two seconds staring at the floor had been too long. The dragon anchors holding the tapestries were agitated, as though reliving parts of the battle, snapping at the air at what they thought were demon morsels flying off the screens.

Suddenly the demons on the screens began retreating. Students cheered, but the looks on the warriors’ faces seemed anything but victorious.

In the careening images, Sarah’s mother and Uncle Richard broke away from the battleground first. Her mother’s voice carried throughout the Great Hall as she shouted, “Medic!” and Uncle Richard followed. That was when the entire Great Hall witnessed what was so callously called “collateral damage” on the Council Group News Network.

Sarah’s eyes filled as she saw her mother pull a victim from the rubble of an apartment building, then clasp the young woman to her breast, trying to save her. The girl looked no older than Ayana, and she coughed, clawing at Sarah’s mother’s wings, and then hiccupped blood as her mother rocked her, trying to staunch the pain and stop the hemorrhaging.

Chaos prevailed. Her parents had won the battle but were clearly losing the war. On the tapestries above, Guardians fanned out, Sarah’s dad trying to extinguish conflagrations set by the demons during their retreat. She watched silver tears fill her dad’s eyes as a woman knelt beside her young son, caught beneath a collapsed building, and begged her father to save him. But it was obvious to anyone that the teenager had been ravaged by vampires. His eyes were already glowing red, and the rubble that had trapped him soon wouldn’t be enough to hold him as he hissed at the approaching dawn.

All her dad said was, “Ma’am, I’m so sorry. May his soul rest in peace.” Her father’s bicep flexed, his grip tightened on his blade handle. The woman screamed, “No!” Her father moved so swiftly that it was a blur, and the only sound that followed was a dull thud drenched by the mother’s screams. The woman flew at her father, calling him names, punching him, kicking him, clawing at him as he held her and told her over and over in a gentle voice, “I know. I’m sorry. I know.”

The images slowed to a haze as Headmistress Stone’s eyes returned from a glowing white to their normal, ancient, wise brown. With a wave of her staff, she motioned for everyone to pay attention.

“That is the hardest part of the battle,” Sarah’s father said in a strong voice, walking to the edge of the platform and holding the audience in thrall. “Never forget why we do this. It is for those who cannot fight, those who are vulnerable. Every civilian you cannot save haunts you for the rest of your life…. So save as many as you can. They are why we need you to bring the light and humanity back to the world. The easy part is killing demons. The worst of it is burying the human dead…or the undead.”

He pointed at the now quiet tapestries as the anchor dragons grumbled and resettled themselves. “Don’t get caught up in the hype. The battle is only fun when you watch a Clair-V vision replay of it, like Headmistress Stone’s vivid recall—but while you’re there, it’s anything but fun. And if you think burying a civilian is hard, or beheading one so he doesn’t get up to harm his own family…try having to behead a comrade—a fellow Guardian who you’ve lived with, who you love, who’s like your blood brother or sister. That’s why you need to listen to your instructors.”

An eerie silence fell over the room. Sarah watched her mother step forward to stand beside her nana. Her father stood beside her grandfather. Slowly her mother allowed her wings to unfurl, sliding out of her shoulder blades and through the open slits in the back of her white robe. It was a majestic sight to behold.

Murmurs of awe and appreciation hummed through the crowd as her mother spread her pristine white wings to their massive six-foot width and then called her Madame Isis blade into her grip, making it materialize out of thin air in her hand. In this place, under these circumstances, a strange awareness began to overtake Sarah. It didn’t matter what she had been told over the years. Here, in this hall, it finally sank in and she realized what it meant that her parents weren’t just normal Guardians. They were the Neterus.

Her Baba Shabazz was the strongest Tactical Guardian on the planet, and she stared up at him now as his eyes glowed gold, as if the jaguar spirit within was looking out at her. His upper and lower canines were extended, and after watching the tapestries, she understood why no one in the school wanted to tangle with him. Until today, she’d never seen him change. He would always threaten the compound boys, especially Al, not to bring out the bad cat in him, but he’d never done it around any of them. He was the last of a breed, a carryover from the old days. There were no more shape-shifters like him left, not that she’d heard of.

But her mother’s wings… It was something she’d only witnessed a few times in her life, yet each time it always stole her breath. Then her father stepped forward and snapped her mind back to the immediate. Now, after the visionscape on the tapestries, he seemed taller, looked thicker, more muscular, his fangs sharper, as he called his weapon—the glowing Blade of Ausar—into his fist.

“We knew your parents.” Her father’s voice thundered through the hall, speaking to all the students present. “Some we unfortunately watched give their lives.”

“And some,” her mother said more moderately, “we were able to heal. Some still fight on to this day.”

“But the mantle is being passed.” Her father looked at her mother and then lifted his chin. “We will do everything we can, till the last man and woman fall, to keep the demon incursion at bay, but you must apply yourselves. There is still a lot of work to do.”

Her mother spoke again. “We came today despite great risk…. The forbidden zones are widening, the astral plane is teeming, and the point beyond the edge of Light is growing. During your first days here you’ll be instructed in the parameters past which you must not venture. Study them well. Heed the advice of your instructors, and respect this faculty and staff.” Her gaze went to Alejandro and remained there until he looked away.

She continued speaking. “There are many spies, the Morrigan, not to mention demons and human helpers, searching for this enclave, as you well know. We’ve thwarted them for years as we have protected the children, you, our future. Do not be so eager to battle the unseen just yet. Off campus is off limits until Headmistress Stone and Headmaster Shabazz say you’re ready. I know the towns at the base of the mountains seem exotic, and curiosity is a big lure—but you also saw what can happen to a town if they know Guardian children are there. We need each and every one of you. If we lose even one of you, our hearts will shatter.” Her mother’s voice wavered with passion as she lifted her Isis blade. “You are the future.”

“My wife is always so diplomatic,” Sarah’s father said, his silver gaze scanning the Great Hall. “I’ve been to Hell—used to run that joint for a while, at least in the Vampire Council. If it weren’t for my wife, whose plea won me amnesty from the Light, I wouldn’t be standing here.” He waited theatrically as gasps and murmurs rippled through the hall. “Yeah, that’s right. I know every warrior thinks he’s a badass—until he gets captured. But let me tell you, the Dark Realms will do whatever it takes to break you. And the things they can think up to do will haunt your dreams for the rest of your life—if they let you live. You must become stronger, not only here,” he said, tapping his temple, “but also here.” He raised the fist clutching the blade to his heart.

Headmaster Shabazz stepped forward to speak. “As you know, some students stay here year-round and don’t go home on break. All new students start in September. But before this semester began, at the last full moon a month ago,” he said, rubbing the tension away from his neck, “we had a couple of unfortunate incidents locally. I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors on PirateNet about the loss of Guardians from several North American compounds, as well as some students and faculty here at the Academy. It’s true. We have experienced some recent and devastating losses. We’ve found the bodies of Peter Matthews and Gregory Duncan, but there are still some students and faculty we haven’t found. So now is not the time for pranks or sneaking off campus.”

“It wasn’t a rescue mission when we went looking for two missing Valkyrie fliers,” her father said flatly, looking particularly hard at the compound students. “It was a recovery mission.”

Headmaster Shabazz’s gaze hardened as it traveled around the Great Hall. His jaguar was peeking out again. “The students who died in the forbidden forest were simply victims of the forest itself. But the others had violated curfew and were on the grounds when they went missing, just as the instructors were. We haven’t found them—yet. We are still in search-and-rescue mode as we look for them. That’s why, when we lay down rules and tell you that certain areas are off limits or set a curfew, it’s with good reason. So don’t make me to have to shape-shift to come down the side of that mountain looking for you. Trust me, you really do not want that. “

“Or to have to have the school send in aerial support,” Sarah’s mother said, gaining a nod from Aunt Valkyrie.

Nodding as the awareness that
all
the faculty members were also warriors overtook the new students, Headmistress Stone continued. “The brave people in the border towns would rather risk the threat of demons, dark creatures and even the occasional walker that comes out of the woods than deal with the repressions taking place under the One World martial law system or the madness of corruption and crime in the dense population zones. Our mountain town neighbors don’t know about us, and we like to keep it that way. They are simple people who live off the land as best they can, because if you go into the cities, you can’t buy or sell or move about without the central number and ID. But just because these folks have bucked the system, don’t think they can’t be infiltrated by evil. As Neteru Damali Richards-Rivera said, there are spies everywhere. Sanctions for putting yourself or your fellow students and the faculty at risk are severe. This isn’t a game.”

Sarah stared at her mother, catching her eye, seeing extra moisture there. It was the same look she’d given her earlier. Her mother was scared, and rightfully so. Something had happened inside the walls of the school. What did they think had abducted the students and teachers? There, information was still not being shared.

Her grandmother’s voice rang out, distracting her from her thoughts almost as if on purpose.