Urban Mystic Academy: Third Project (A Supernatural Academy Series Book 3)

by Jennifer Rose McMahon

  Darkness of night grew heavier around us as the dense smoke burned our eyes. Tears streamed down my face, and their source was unclear, either from the pain of the sting, or sorrow for the sisters.

  Both.

  "This way," I said, pointing to a familiar carving in one of the trees. "Maybe they'll come back with us this time. They'll have no other choice."

  My words stiffened my spine. Would that even be possible?

  If we displaced the sisters into another dimension, would they be able to live full lives, or would the entire time-space continuum be disrupted beyond comprehension?

  There was no way to know the full extent of the disruption, except for the fact that it had been done before.

  Tommy.

  He lived in more than one dimension. It had been possible for him.

  And with the book of spells, we might have access to the right rituals to bring balance to the shift.

  My thoughts went wild on how to save the sisters as we came to the edge of the woods.

  "This is it," Shane whispered. "We have to stay hidden until we know what's going on. Last thing we need is to get caught by psychotic colonial villagers."

  I swallowed hard as we crouched behind a thicket of shrubs at the edge of the farm.

  Moonlight illuminated the clearing, and my eyes adjusted to the change in light. Swirls of haunting black mixed with the thick gray smoke, making it nearly impossible to make out any shapes. High above, my gaze landed on the three bright green pines that rose up behind the barn.

  The pines were my North Star. They confirmed to me that we were in the right place, and their youthful size and color made it clear what time period we were in.

  "Let's sneak around to those trees," I whispered. "We can feel our way to the exact location of the house and the barn from there."

  Shane took my hand in agreement, and we traveled around the perimeter of the woods in stealth silence. Crouching every few feet to listen, we paused in confusion from the eerie silence.

  As we reached the base of the pines, a breeze moved through the clearing, pushing the hovering smoke like a gentle wave.

  The momentary clarity exposed the edge of the barn.

  "There." I pointed. "The barn. It's still standing." My heart rate accelerated with increasing hope.

  Shane lifted his finger to his mouth to hush me, and he bent his head to listen.

  Crackling sounds came from the location of the house, and a new waft of thick smoke covered the barn again.

  "We need to get inside the house. Maybe they're hiding. They could be in the basement." My mind raced with possibilities, knowing that their survival instincts would remain intact until the final moment.

  Shane took a deep inhale.

  "Entering a burning building would be suicide," he murmured. "Especially a house like that. It's made entirely of kindling." He pressed his lips together.

  "We need to check," I said. "We don't have a choice."

  I stood from our crouched position.

  Without hesitation, he joined me.

  We both knew what had to be done.

  With arms outstretched, we felt our way toward the house. Knowing its general proximity to the barn, we shuffled along the yard, catching glimpses of the space ahead of us with each gentle gust.

  Finally, just as we nearly walked into the back corner of the home, its proud outer walls rose toward its highest gable.

  The side of the house where we stood was untouched by the flames.

  "Quick," I blasted, running my hands along the edge of the home. "This part’s not burning. We have a chance."

  We hurried along toward the front of the house, losing full vision at random moments, then regaining it enough to confirm where we were.

  As we reached the front corner, Shane reached to slow me.

  "Wait," he whispered. "We need to be sure no one's keeping watch."

  I controlled my over-exuberance, knowing he was right. As much as I wanted to burst around to the porch, I knew it couldn't be that easy.

  We waited a few short moments, listening for voices and searching for any sign of movement. Another breeze rolled past, exposing a small portion of the clearing. The gust moved the vile smoke directly into our faces, and we choked on its stench. Coughing into our sleeves, we stifled the sound as much as possible.

  "No one would stick around in this foul air," he gasped.

  Blinking through my burning tears, I stepped out and glanced up the porch.

  In the movement of the smoke, I caught glimpses of the steps and front door—neither showing signs of being torched.

  "We can get inside," I gasped. "The doorway isn't in flame."

  My words made me hesitate in confusion, and then Shane's reaction paused me further.

  "Brynn. The house isn't on fire." He blinked in the direction of the thickest smoke, away from the home.

  Pushing through the floating ash, I cringed as grit covered my teeth and filled my nostrils.

  Next to the house, an orange glow of flame danced in the smog, and we moved closer to it. With our elbows pressed against our noses, we struggled to breathe.

  As we approached the crackling flames, my feet hit off shards of wood. We stepped around the pile, fighting to see what they'd burned.

  My heart pounded, forcing unnatural pressure in my head. My hearing hit a high pitch of near-deafness as a gentle gust pushed the blanket of smoke across the woodpile.

  My eyes fell on a hand-tied bouquet of herbs and twigs—one I’d seen before. An ill wish. A gasp of terror escaped me, causing me to inhale too much smoke.

  Bending over choking, I struggled to get a full breath of oxygen. Shane pulled me into him, placing his sleeve over my mouth to filter the air.

  Then, with a final gust of clearing wind, our minds exploded to the point of hysteria.

  Our eyes landed on the broken pieces of a spiked whiskey barrel. Bloodied clothing and gooey bits of charred flesh poured out of it. Sickness rose in me, and I lifted my gaze from the horror, only to land on the full height of the pyre.

  A stake rose from the woodpile, and a silent scream coursed through every nerve in my body. Unable to release the horror that welled in me, I stared at the blackened figure. Her arms tied over her head. Her body slumped, and head fell back with a permanent scream etched on her blackened face.

  Brutalized and burned beyond recognition, but leaving no doubt in our minds, they were the remains of Gertie and Millie.

  With a jolt, I twisted away from the horror and buried my face in Shane's chest. His arms wrapped around me, and he pulled me away from the pyre. We stumbled back toward the shelter of the trees.

  Only whimpers escaped my lips as shock took over my body. My shallow breaths grew quicker, and my body temperature plummeted. Shaking and coughing, I fell into the brush. Shane held me as terror quaked through every fiber of my being.

  His chest heaved in rapid sets, proving his own state of shock, and his silence spoke volumes.

  We'd stumbled unaware upon our worst nightmare.

  And our foolish hope at rescuing everyone and saving the day only made the crushing reality more difficult to accept.

  We'd been naive to think we could change the past.

  To think we could have saved the sisters from their cruel fate.

  And now, there was nothing we could do about it.

  Mockingly, time passed us by as we sat shivering, hiding in the woods.

  Hours.

  Maybe more.

  The deep chill in my body proved it was reaching the level of unsafe.

  "We should move," I whispered through a parched throat.

  Shane shuffled his limbs and creaked them back to life.

  Between the two of us, it took massive amounts of effort to stand as we forced our resisting muscles to respond.

  "I, I...," Shane stuttered.

  "I know," I soothed him.

  We took a few weary steps along the edge of the clearing, away from the direction of the house. T
he smoke had dissipated considerably, allowing for more visibility and full breaths of cleaner air. And the sky was brightening as dawn's light threatened to rise over the horizon.

  Unsure of our next moves, we tripped along the twigs, pushing clumsily through curious branches. Snapping, rustling, and crunching in fallen leaves, we made no effort at concealing our presence. We were too far gone at that point to care.

  But then, our survival instincts returned to us in an instant, and we froze in our spots.

  A flash of black pulled our attention toward the deeper woods. The fast movement left a blur in our peripheral vision. Then a snapping twig caused us to jump.

  We remained riveted like statues, listening with every fiber as our eyes darted in all directions.

  My breathing accelerated, leaving me panting, as another flash of black whirred by us, closer this time.

  "What is it?" I muttered, terror stealing my voice from me.

  "It's an animal," Shane said, reaching for a stick. "We're being hunted."

  His words made me want to puke. I didn’t have the strength to run or fight.

  I wove my arm into his, closing my eyes with the horrifying thought of one of us going down. I prayed it would be me.

  I reached to the ground, feeling around for a stick and grabbed the closest one. At least we wouldn't go down without a struggle.

  "If we back away slowly, we can make a break for the house," Shane whispered from the side of his mouth.

  The idea of going into the house made my stomach clamp into a knot.

  The streak of black tore around behind us. And then to our side. It circled us with menacing precision.

  "Move slowly with me," Shane instructed, as he stepped out into the clearing. "Move backward. Keep your eyes on it at all times."

  We pushed through the brush, struggling to stay on our feet while keeping our eyes locked on the predator. Within a few more steps, we moved into the open space of the clearing.

  The black creature paced aggressively in the woods, moving closer with every step. As Shane and I turned toward the house, ready to make a run for it, the large animal sprang out of the trees and landed its heavy paws in the dirt with a thud.

  My air whooshed out of me as I stared at the massive black wolf.

  It snorted and scraped its paw in the dirt. Swinging its head, it signaled a sense of communication rather than attack.

  My eyes narrowed, and I stared into its deep blue eyes. My flight response mellowed as its gaze held mine with familiarity.

  "Dom," I murmured.

  Shane stood straight up, staring at the intimidating wolf.

  He swallowed hard. "Dom," he agreed with a huff.

  The wolf paced without breaking eye contact as if sizing us up. Staring at Shane, it bared its teeth in what appeared to be ravenous hunger.

  Frozen with uncertainty, I looked to Shane. "What do we do?"

  "I have no idea," he said.

  Keeping its eyes on us, the wolf moved away from the direction of the house. It burst into a run then, circling us like corralled animals, then moved toward the barn.

  By instinct, we followed his lead.

  The wolf lapped around the barn twice, whimpering and shaking its head by the door.

  "Something's inside," I gasped.

  Running to the barn doors, I threw open the heavy metal latch and rushed inside.

  With Shane right behind me, we tore through the barn searching for any sign of life. The animal stalls were empty, and only deafening silence filled the musty space.

  I looked back and gazed out the open barn doors. The wolf remained in the grass, watching with sharp focus.

  Then my eyes burst wide.

  "The root cellar!" I cried.

  Kicking hay and dirt away from the hidden hatch, we tore at the handle and pulled with all our might. The heavy wooden door creaked open, and we dropped it to the floor with a thud.

  Peering down into the darkness of the cellar, I blinked to clear my vision.

  A gentle rustling came up from the underground darkness.

  Then two shining eyes blinked up at me.

  My voice choked out of my throat, "Courtney?"

  Quiet whimpers traveled up to us from the root cellar, and without hesitation, I bombed down the ladder.

  "Courtney," I gasped. "It's us. Brynn and Shane."

  Her teary eyes blinked at me as her mouth opened to speak. Words wouldn't form, and she struggled to make any sound other than small whimpers.

  She was in shock.

  We were well aware of the feeling, but judging by her close proximity to the events, it was clear she'd reached a more threatening level.

  Protecting her from experiencing any more horror was our immediate mission.

  "She should stay here," I said to Shane. "It's safe. We can bring her blankets, and there are barrels of root vegetables down here. We can boil some." I met the terror in his eyes. "It's the safest place for her right now."

  He gave a slight nod, knowing that what remained above in the ashes would be unbearable for her to see.

  I stepped closer to her, and she flinched in response to my proximity.

  "We're going to help you, Courtney," I whispered. "Will you let me touch you?" I reached for her in hopes of sharing some of my warmth with her.

  She froze in place, and I moved closer, wrapping my arms around her. At first, she didn't move, but as the security of my nurturing hold seeped through her, she shook violently. Allowing her pent up emotions to quake out of her in convulsive torrents, she then slumped onto me. The weight of her falling body knocked me to the ground, and I kept hold of her in my full embrace as she wept.

  Heavy sobs shook through her as she gasped for air between them.

  I stroked her hair and allowed the sorrow to move through her in unrelenting waves.

  As exhaustion overtook her, she settled within my arms and, within seconds, fell asleep. As I lifted my gaze, I watched Shane coming down the ladder with blankets in his arms.

  He wrapped us and sat behind me, pressing his back into mine, holding me up with his weight.

  "You went to the house?" I whispered.

  "Yes," he sighed. "Everything's been taken. Everything of value, anyway."

  My eyes closed in anger—my frenzied emotions having no idea where to land.

  The smell of burnt flesh wafted up from the blankets, and I cringed at the permanency of the scarring scent on my soul.

  "Is the wolf still outside?" I asked.

  Keeping an eye on Dom’s whereabouts was paramount at this point.

  "Yes, he's guarding the grounds."

  I took a huge cleansing inhale, and let it wash out of me.

  While glancing around the root cellar, my eyes fell on the candles on the table. Like an epiphany, I remembered the items stored down here.

  "There should be a Zippo lighter down here," I gasped. "And...." My eyes widened as I stared at Shane. "And the book of spells!"

  Chapter 16

  Shane snuck back to the abandoned house with the Zippo in his pocket. He planned to light a small fire in the hearth for cooking. I sent him with some carrots, parsnips, and potatoes from the root cellar in hopes of some warm soup for Courtney.

  Before long, he came back with another blanket from the loft and draped it over my shoulders.

  "I think you two should stay hidden here," he advised. "It’s best for only one of us to be moving around up there. And best for her to not see… you know. Not before I get a chance to bury them."

  My shocked eyebrows lifted. "Will you be able to do that?"

  He shrugged. "Someone needs to. It's not right, just leaving them there."

  "But the villagers will know then," I warned. "They'll know someone came back."

  Shane shook his head. "It doesn't matter. They can't be left like that." He closed his eyes in disgust. "There's a shovel in the barn. I'll take care of it once the two of you are settled down here."

  Pressing my lips together, I nodded in a
greement. There was no way Courtney could ever leave this root cellar if her sister's remains were still on display in the pyre.

  Shane knew what he needed to do, and I was grateful. It would be a gruesome job, particularly moving them. I had no idea how he would get through it.

  Courtney continued to sleep with her head in my lap. Judging by her slow, heavy breathing, she was in a deep sleep. Her profound exhaustion only proved the horrors she'd experienced in the last days, finally succumbing to it when we arrived.

  Curling up in the blanket Shane gave me, I rested my weight against the sidewall as my heavy lids threatened to close. The shock of the late evening's events had caught up to me, and I joined Courtney in mind-numbing slumber.

  Time seemed to stand still while we slept as our minds and bodies recovered in their suspended reality. As if all fears and sorrows had been forgotten, we rested within the safety of the dark root cellar.

  Feeling like I could have used several hours more, I lifted my head to the distant sound of a howling wolf. Its eerie cry echoed through the woods that surrounded us, causing my neck hairs to stand up.

  I shifted my legs to regain feeling in them, and Courtney lifted her groggy head. As soon as the sleep cleared from her eyes, she sprang to her feet with clenched fists. She shifted from foot and foot while her eyes scoured every inch of the confining cellar. When her gaze landed on me, her lost expression changed from her confused dream-like state to one of terror.

  "So it's true," she cried out. "If you're still here, it means it was more than just a horrifying nightmare."

  She paced the dirt floor, and within seconds, collapsed onto her knees. Dropping her head into her lap, she wept into her skirts.

  I dropped down by her side and returned to stroking her hair. "I, I'm so sorry, Courtney. It's too much to bear."

  Her head shook as if she were trying to reason the situation. "I can't get it out of my head," she whispered. "Their screams. Their pain. All I see is their beauty being destroyed by the greed of madmen. Tortured. Betrayed by their own people." She pulled at her hair. "How am I to live now? It would have been right and just for me to join them in their exquisite misery."

  "No, Courtney," I spat. "They wanted you safe. Hiding you away was their last wish, and having you live another day, their final thoughts."