Shadowspell Academy: The Culling Trials, Omnibus

by Mayer, Shannon

  “Yes, you heard right. This is all new to me.”

  “But you made it to the end of that Shade trial.”

  “Teamwork. You should look into it.” I looked out the window as we rode. The scenery was all trees and bushes in full summer bloom. The heat wasn’t too bad, at least, especially not this early in the morning. If this trial was as physical as the last, we were going to be hurting in a few hours.

  “The others in the crew, they’re useless. You’re…” A small crease formed between his brows as he studied me. “Odd.”

  “Great. Good observation.” I turned away, nervous about how he was studying me. He was the last person I wanted to know my secret. His kind would sell secrets to the highest bidder and laugh when “Billy” ended up paying the price.

  “You know Rory Wilson?” he asked.

  The change in his conversation threw me and I paused before answering. Until yesterday, I would have said we were friends. Not anymore. “We grew up together.”

  “He’s trouble.”

  “Always has been, yes.”

  “He’s the best Shade in his class. Nearly the best in the school, though he’s only a third year. Well, fourth year coming this year.”

  “He’s a lying blockhead that’s going to get a thump as soon as I get a chance, so help me God.”

  “What’s he doing here though, at the trials?” Ethan asked.

  I paused again, having no idea where the conversation was going, but still not expecting it to end up where it had.

  “I have no idea,” I said honestly. The bus turned down a small dirt road. Dust flew past the windows, fogging the view. Anticipation quickened my heart. “He didn’t tell me he was coming here. I thought he was in Nevada. He sent me a postcard from Nevada.”

  Ethan didn’t say anything for a long time. A quick glance told me he was staring at the side of my head.

  “Is there a problem?” I asked

  Ethan’s eyes bored into me. “Rory Wilson doesn’t have friends.”

  “As of yesterday, I know why. Where are you going with this?”

  The bus came to a stop, and Ethan pushed me to get out of the seat.

  “He’s an enigma. People wonder what side he is on,” Ethan said.

  “Side of what?” I moved in line as everyone exited the bus. He didn’t answer. Great, another question to add to the pile.

  The five gates stood in front of us once more, sentinels lined up at the top, same as the day before.

  Ethan blew air from his nose, and I got the distinct impression it was supposed to be a laugh of derision. He motioned me to a gate with a sparse crowd waiting in front. Our crew followed behind.

  “You better hope you keep being useful,” Ethan said, “or someday soon you’ll be crushed by your lack of knowledge.”

  “You should get a side job writing for fortune cookies. You’d be a smash hit.”

  “This is the House of Unmentionables,” Pete said, interrupting us. “Why are we doing this one?”

  “We have to do them all, and we have to do them all together. I’ve got a pattern we need to follow.” Ethan shifted as the same beautiful woman from the day before walked along the edge of the wall.

  “Welcome, everyone,” she began.

  Ethan didn’t stop to listen. “This is one of the easiest. All we have to do is beat the simpleton creatures and find the gold. I know where it’ll be…mostly…and the basic spells I’ll need. With you guys to run interference, it shouldn’t be a big deal. Hopefully by the next trial we’ll be used to working together and you won’t drag me down.”

  Wally’s voice dropped low. “This cheater always prospers.”

  The gates shimmied open and Ethan gestured us on ahead of him.

  “Go back with your team. You’re going to get in trouble. You’re going to get us in trouble!” Pete tried to shoo Wally away, like a wayward dog.

  “You’re my team. They are just my dorm mates,” she replied. “The school will catch on eventually. That’s how this works, you know.”

  As we crossed the threshold into the trial, bare dirt was all that was in front of us. A few scraggly bushes dotted the way and one lonely tree reached into the sky, its branches bare and trunk gnarled and hunched. Gradually, a hush pressed in around us, unnatural for so large of a place. The wall behind us melted away, and the desolate land stretched out to infinity.

  “This stuff trips me out,” I said as Ethan found a path on the cracked earth and followed it without hesitation.

  “Did you memorize all the right paths or something?” I asked, scanning the way for any sign of danger. A warning vibrated through my body, but it didn’t take a form or indicate a direction. We were in the thick of danger without any indication where it might come from.

  Giddyup.

  “Yes. It’s good to have friends in high places.” Ethan stopped at a fork, looked each way, then went right. “Except I don’t remember that fork.”

  “Super,” I glanced back at the others. “Thoughts?”

  “He’s the one cheating. We’re just playing follow the leader,” Pete said. “We can claim we didn’t know.”

  “I agree. This is the best-case scenario at the moment.” Wally turned in a circle while walking. “When he doesn’t need us anymore, that’s when we will need a plan B.”

  “Wise woman,” Ethan said.

  I gritted my teeth. His overconfidence that we were all idiots or incompetent would be the ruin of him. I’d make sure of it. But right now, Sunshine’s words burned through my brain. I needed to stick to the middle of the pack. To let Ethan take the heat off me so I’d go unnoticed.

  “We’re about there, I think,” Ethan said, hitting a three-way stop and choosing the far right path. He’d clearly made the correct choice at the previous fork.

  “Where is there?” I asked, winding toward the left before Ethan took yet another right turn. Then another. My brain said we were going in a circle, but my sense of direction said we were still winding our way east. The path was a mind bender for sure.

  “The bridge. It’s the easiest crossing place,” Ethan said.

  The roar of water grew louder as we walked. Ahead, I could barely see the rolling, boiling, white water of a large chasm. Foam floated up, creating a rainbow in the strengthening sun rays, then cut off abruptly as if tumbling off a cliff. The oddity was the land was flat. There was no actual cliff, no natural drop off. The chasm cinched into little more than a stream.

  “I do not like this,” I grumbled as Ethan pointed right.

  “There,” he said, picking up the pace.

  “We have all day. We don’t have to hurry,” Pete groaned, jogging to keep up.

  “I’m not the only one with connections,” Ethan said, not slowing. “The first one to the gold takes it all. I want to be the first.”

  “Don’t you have enough money?” Orin asked, drifting along behind us, in no apparent hurry.

  “You can never have enough money,” Ethan replied. “And this isn’t about the money. Not really. It’s about taking all the glory. It’s about winning.”

  A stone bridge was built into the side of the river, leading over the thinnest part of the water. The drop from the bridge was plenty steep, I had to admit, but only a trickle of muddy water flowed through, probably knee high at best.

  “What’s the task?” Wally asked.

  “Simple, we have to get across the bridge,” Pete replied as we all slowed near the stone steps.

  “It won’t be simple,” Gregory said quietly. “I can guarantee that.”

  A deep growl issued from somewhere. At first, I couldn’t figure out the source, but the growl rose in strength until a deep, booming roar reverberated from under the bridge.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head, knowing exactly what was coming. Mom had read me enough fairy tales for me to know what lived under bridges. “No freaking way.”

  Another roar like a garbled “ahhhhhh” followed, shaking the ground and sending my senses into overdrive.
Everything in me said to run. To get away. Fighting whatever was under that bridge was absolute madness. You didn’t slap a lion on the nose and then put up your dukes. No. You climbed a tree and hid like a coward. Right?

  My laughter rang out, a reflex I couldn’t control, as a huge green head poked out from under the bridge. Warty and hideous, it had a wide nose with big nostrils dripping thick yellow goo. An enormous hand grabbed the edge of the bridge, its thick fingernails chipped and deeply lined with the color of dried blood.

  “Who’s going first?” Ethan asked, taking his wand out of its canvas holder.

  Almost as one, everyone looked at me.

  Chapter 3

  I shook my head as the others backed away from the bridge and the oversized deep green troll climbing out from under it, which effectively put me out in front. I stood sideways so I could keep an eye on both the troll and the traitors.

  “Some friends you all are,” I said.

  “You’re the quickest of us,” Wally said, her eyes glued to the troll. “If you can get the troll to follow you, then maybe the rest of us can get by with minimal fighting.”

  “Basically, what she’s saying is, you first, Shade,” Ethan said. “I’ve got your back, but we all know you move like lightning.”

  I turned a look on him. “Really? Compliments now?”

  Pete snorted but didn’t step up. “He’s trying to sweet talk you into going. You know, as if you were just as dumb as he is.”

  A bellowing roar snapped my head around and I took a few steps back. I couldn’t help it. I might be braver than I was smart, but even I could see this was far from a slam dunk.

  The troll now stood fully exposed in the center of the bridge, flexing his big hands with those disgusting cracked nails. His feet and toes matched his hands, right down to the chips in the nails and the junk jammed under them.

  But to be fair, that was not what had my attention. I blinked and shook my head. When I said he was fully exposed, I do mean fully exposed. The big bastard was over eight feet tall and his hands, feet, and…other appendages…were about three sizes too big for his body.

  “How does he not step on it?” Pete wondered out loud. I had the same question, but I was as irritated as a cat who’d been thrown into bathwater. The irritation kept me from freaking out and letting fear control me.

  “Put some clothes on!” I snapped and pointed a finger at the troll. “Ain’t nobody got time for that.”

  The troll bent at the waist and roared in my direction, showing off cracked and broken teeth, a tongue split in three and a maw big enough to stuff my entire head in and bite down.

  Fear tickled at me, working its way down my spine. I fought it hard. Pushing it away as it fought to take me over. “You look ridiculous. Like an oversized Shrek, you know that?”

  “Yelling at him won’t work,” Gregory said behind me.

  “Really? What are you going to tell me next? That the pope is Catholic?” I brushed the hair from my eyes and adjusted my hat. “So what will work?”

  “Why are you asking him?” Ethan barked. “Get moving!”

  I rolled my eyes and held my ground. “Gregory?”

  “His sensitive spot is not what you might think. Trolls are capable of—”

  A crack behind us preceded a burst of light as though a series of fireworks had been let off. Gregory yelped, and something snapped my ass like a metal-tipped whip on steroids.

  “Ah, what the hell?” I jumped forward as heat and pain sliced through my right butt cheek, making me gasp. Cold washed over my body. The troll startled as though I’d snagged my foot on a trip wire.

  “Ethan!” Wally gasped. “How could you do that? He’s on our team!”

  “We need him to move. He’s the bait today.”

  As if I needed any confirmation of who’d just shot me and with what. I put a hand to my butt, but my rear end was far from my biggest problem.

  Apparently, there was an invisible line I’d just crossed—a line that Ethan had known about and pushed me over on purpose.

  And now the troll was coming for me full tilt, mouth wide, hands outstretched as it made grabby motions with those wretched fingers.

  I darted to the right, drawing the troll back to the bridge. If I could get him to follow me to the other side, then my crew would be free to cross. Maybe this was like those golems from the Shade trial, and we could leave the troll behind to terrorize the next set of kids.

  I ran up onto the edge of the bridge, climbing the stone railing so that I was almost as tall as the troll. “No questions? Isn’t that how the fairy tales work? Shouldn’t you ask me questions before you go crazy and try to kill me?”

  “No, don’t engage him! Keep moving! He’ll overwhelm you!” Gregory yelled.

  The troll curled his lips and rolled his wide shoulders as he slowed his advance. “You wanna question, little duck? How about a rhyme? Do you think you can outsmart me?” The troll’s lips curled and pulled wide, a grotesque sort of smile if I’d ever seen one. “Give me a moment, and I’ll have you.”

  He wiggled the index and middle fingers on his left hand, and a strange sizzling feeling rolled over my skin—his magic, if I had to guess. Trolls clearly had magic.

  I worked to brush it off, but a scene interrupted my vision. The troll stood over me as I lay with my limbs bent at strange angles, my eyes wide and pleading.

  I blinked my eyes then rubbed them, trying to clear away the image. Trying to root myself in reality and shake the visual he was forcing on me. I couldn’t quite do it, but it no longer commanded my attention. Pain throbbed through my body as though his huge, meaty foot had stomped on me.

  My legs shook from the visceral reaction, so badly, I had to lock them to keep standing.

  “See?” the troll breathed the word, hissing it. “Now you see. You see what I will do to you. What I will enjoy doing over and over again.”

  Gregory groaned. “It isn’t real, Wild! None of what he will show you is real—ignore it and fight!”

  I gave a slow nod and breathed through the washes of fear coming at me, like breakers in the ocean. I squinted through the double vision. “Try again, dumb ass.” I gritted my teeth as I made myself grin at him.

  His bulbous eyes bugged out even farther. “Not possible! You will fear me!”

  I couldn’t stop myself from flipping him off, even though the effort left me shaking. I forced my frown into a grin. “So much eloquence coming out of a big, dumb-looking, booger-riddled creature. Why is that? What do you have? Some smarty-pants magic user feeding you lines?” I adjusted my stance on the thick stone railing of the bridge. Or tried to. I fought to lift a foot, but I was stuck to the stone. The troll’s smile widened and the bugger winked at me.

  Oh crap.

  “Six little ducks went out one day.” He took a step toward me.

  “Get ready to run. He’s about to be very distracted,” Ethan barked, but I didn’t think it was at me. No, I was the distraction here. My crew would run to safety, leaving me to handle the troll.

  The troll took another step and the image it was taunting me with shifted again, showing my intestines spilled out into the water below the bridge, the water turning pinkish red. I blinked it away and fought to keep my balance as vertigo hit me hard and left me swaying.

  “Over the bridge and far away.” The troll took another step and I tried again to yank my feet off the stone. Glued, I was damn well glued to it with some sort of troll magic.

  “Boots, get them off!” Gregory yelled.

  I bent and ripped frantically at the laces. Got one of them off.

  “Mother duck called quack, quack, quack.” The troll reached for me before I could free my foot from the other boot. “But only five little ducks came limping back.”

  That big paw of a hand swept toward my head and I did the limbo backward on pure instinct, my one foot stuck in the boot that was still attached to the stone. I yelled as I swung down, the force wrenching my knee before that foot came loose
at the last second.

  I tumbled through the air, landing in the water below with a sickening thud. Not enough water to cushion my fall, not enough mud to sink under me. I groaned as I rolled onto my belly and feet, soaked through.

  “Hurry!” Wally said. “Trolls are known to eat as many as ten people per annum.”

  I lurched toward the far side of the creek, the cold water soaking my clothes and chilling me despite the warm weather. A huge splash behind me told me all I needed to know. My new friend had followed me, allowing the others to cross.

  I spun, reaching for my knife as I whipped around.

  The troll was a hell of a lot bigger than I’d thought, that or he’d grown in the last few seconds.

  “Little duck, you are going to die. Better that I do it now than you see what is coming for you. What is coming for you, oh, that is much worse than anything I could do.” He grinned and pointed a finger at me. A magic finger that could make me see horrible things.

  Well, that was enough of that garbage.

  I lunged toward him and slashed with my knife, aiming for that finger. He was far too slow, and I took the finger off at the second knuckle before he could so much as blink.

  We both stared as the digit fell into the water. Bloop. For just a split second, there was nothing, no noise, no drop of blood, and then it all went to hell.

  The troll fell backward, swinging up his hand, and in the process, spraying me with blood the color of a grapefruit’s innards. Pale pink splattered over me—the smell of it not that far off citrus either—and I pushed my back against the solid ditch behind me as the troll wailed at the top of his lungs.

  The fear was gone as were the visions he’d superimposed on my sight. But for how long?

  “My fingy, my fingy, she took my fingy! You said I wouldn’t get hurt. You said I’d scare them and get to eat them, but none were mean enough to hurt me! Oh, I’m going to tear this bitch apart.” He roared the words as he straightened himself up, his eyes coming back to find me on the far side of the ditch.

  Time to go.

  Panic clawed at me. I had no boots, a single knife, and a troll that had just decided I needed my body parts rearranged.