Betrayal: An Urban Fantasy Academy Series

by Bob Dattolo

  “Nope! No shakedown. Nothing like that. Speaking of? The girl that was here last year when I was here? A little shorter than I am? Gold dragon?”

  “What of her? I heard she died in challenge just before the trial?”

  “She did. She did not like me.”

  Her eyes widened as she realized what I meant, “Holy hell, you beat her in challenge?”

  “I did. Anyway, that’s not why I’m here.”

  “Umm, okay? Are you interested in another book? How did the grimoire work for you?”

  “I am interested. The book I bought from you? I actually liked it a lot, but it was destroyed when someone started tearing everything I owned apart. I’ve never been able to figure out who did it.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that! I hated that about being there.” She frowned, “Have you been able to figure out your affinity?”

  Hmm, what to say? “I’ll loosely say that we have figured out what we think it is. We’re not entirely sure how to test that. I have some researchers thinking up new tests for me.”

  “You…what? Researchers? I’m old, and I’ve never even met one of them before!”

  “Yeah. I met three of them last year just before the trial. They’re back this year and swapping time on campus, so to speak. They want to run more tests on me. So far, I seem to be a one-of-a-kind dragon. Both in power and in shifting.”

  “I see. I’m thinking there’s more there than you’re letting on?”

  “A bit. More the specifics than broad things. I thought I’d come into town and see if you had anything good that I can pick up.”

  “I picked up a bunch of new grimoires if you want to take a look?”

  “I’d love that.”

  She brought me through the little maze of shelving to the grimoire area. The store isn’t that large, yet there are bookshelves everywhere. It’s not the easiest place to walk through, and I’m thinking people would die if there was ever a fire in here. Not that one can start, given the spells on everything.

  “Here we go? Newer grimoires are on this shelf.” She patted the one right at eye-level.

  “Thank you so much! They’re priced, right?”

  “They are.”

  “Okay, thank you. I’ll take a look.”

  She didn’t leave me with the threat against stealing anything. I don’t know if she trusts me. Given our limited interactions, I’d honestly be shocked by that. I’m pretty much taking the threats as implied and letting it go at that.

  Once she leaves me alone, I start looking through every grimoire there. Just like all the others that I’ve seen, so many of them are this weird combination of things. Cookbooks with spells every few pages. Diaries talking about folding doilies on one page and then a spell to help cure leather on the next. Real-world example there, too. Those get put back on the shelf after I poke through them. Thank God they’re in English, otherwise this would suck.

  Yes, there are others not in English, but they’re on their own set of shelves. I’m not about to mess with that. No way. No how. I don’t have the time or patience to learn another language. Maybe I’ll try at some point in the future. Assuming I live through another two years of the academy.

  As I work through the collection, I sort out ones that I think need another look. I only have three of them before I hit the new books.

  Then the number goes up. She actually has a pretty good selection here. Still a ton of the mixed things, but even more that are just talking about magic and various spells.

  That leaves me with a small pile of 11 books to go through. Well, these are grimoires, so some are like 18 inches tall and four inches thick, so don’t picture a pile of thin paperbacks. I’m just saying it’s a small pile relative to the overall number of books that I just looked through.

  My second look through finds that one book is actually a copy of another, although they have different titles. Different handwriting. Someone copied a book and sold it again. That’s freaking crazy.

  The older version stays out and the newer one goes away. I’m not sure I want something derivative if I can help it. I’m thinking the older one was copied on purpose.

  In the end, seven of them seem interesting enough to spend the money on them. The original one I bought was $200, but that was because it wasn’t all that great. At least for the most part. It had hugely important information in it, just nothing like these. As it is, the cheapest here is six grand.

  Yeah, right? That sticks in my throat a bit, except the money from Samantha’s parents cleared, and now I’m pretty loaded.

  The woman is behind the counter when I come back out and her eyes go wide when she sees my selection. “What…what’re you going to do with those?”

  They go onto the counter, making a satisfying thump from the weight, “Buy them? Unless you don’t let me. If that’s the case, then I won’t.”

  She so doesn’t know how to respond for the longest time as she looks through them. “You do realize how much this will cost, right? Do you have that kind of money?”

  “I do.”

  She takes in my scars again, “How did you come into that kind of money?”

  “Challenges with a payout to keep them alive. They never should have attacked me to begin with.”

  “I…see. Interesting.” She starts working on them, slowing as she gets about halfway through, “These are across the affinities, at least mostly. Are you sure you want to spend this kind of money on them?”

  “I do? I’m still working on things, so I was advised to pick up as much broad knowledge as I can.” One of the researchers said that specifically, I just don’t recall which it was.

  “It’s your money. I’m just shocked.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be weird. You’re one of the few people that doesn’t treat me like I’m a freak, you know?”

  Another look at my scars, “I’m sorry for questioning you. It’s just rare to see someone your age collecting like this. I have other customers that collect like this, but it seems to be something that takes some time to start. My next youngest that collects like this is just about 250 years old.”

  Ahh, “Okay, that makes sense. I’m glad I was able to find these, then.”

  “I’m glad you found them! This will be the highest selling month for in-store sales that I’ve ever had. Possibly over six-months, although maybe not.”

  That’s crazy as hell, especially considering the prices of other books in here. She continued working through things as a thought popped up in my head. “Umm, question?”

  “Shoot?”

  “Every year they have kids that don’t want to take the first trial and they’re turned into stricken. That happens around here. What happens with them?”

  She smells dejected pretty much immediately, “Honestly, it all depends. You know that they do it and then basically throw them out of the building, right?”

  “I heard that a few days ago. They don’t even drive them to town?”

  “No. So they’re left in a place they’ve never been to and they’re blind and in agony. Some kill themselves in the woods. If they’re smart, they band together and make it back to town. Sometimes they go in the wrong direction. We’ll get reports of their bodies being found by hunters. They basically starved to death. Or the weather got to them.”

  “How about the ones that make it back? Where do they go?”

  “Why do you want to know?” Suspicion wafts from her.

  “I may be a dragon now, but my last name is Stricken. I’m wondering if I can do anything to help them in some way.”

  Her hands slow, “You’d help them? Why?”

  “Because they’re alone? I had that exact thing done to me, and it’s fucking agony. Every day of my life for more than nine years was agony from those things in my face. I can’t even imagine having to live in a strange place and try to make it. How do they make money?”

  “Most of ‘em turn tricks.”

  “I’m thinking they get robbed constantly by mages and dr
agons that find them.”

  “They do.”

  “Please don’t tell me that you do that.”

  She stood up straighter, “No! I was raised with the same idea of what a stricken is to us, but my very best friend in the world when I was young? She was hurt in an accident and lost an eye just before our first year at the academy. She wanted to try to make it and made it through the entire year, then bowed out. She barely made it that far and we both knew I couldn’t stop the others from getting to her. She accepted it. I saw her once after the trial was done. Her body. Four days later, they found her body. She’d been ravaged. She died hard. So fucking hard. So I get the fear that people have. They’re the boogie man of our world to many of us. To me, though? That’s my best friend in the world that died in that house, all because she was a stricken.”

  Dammit, this blows, “I’m sorry about your friend. What about the others, though? We had eight accept them last year.”

  “They’re…umm…some of us pool money and try to take care of them We have a place for them.”

  Holy. Shit! “Is that where they turn tricks?”

  “No. They can if they want to, but that’s mostly the ones that won’t accept our help. They don’t trust us.”

  I can see that. I honestly can. “Is there any chance I can see the building? How many do you have there? How many did you get from last year?”

  “We have 27 currently. There are four from last year that I know of.”

  “How many don’t live in your building?”

  “I’m not sure about that. It’s a decent number, but probably no more than 15. Some die every year from being homeless. Montana’s not a good state to be homeless.”

  “They don’t try to move?”

  “Some do. Or try to. Get to LA. Vegas. Miami. Places like that. No idea if they survive, though. It’s not like they’re going to write us.”

  Dammit to hell. “Is there any chance I can see the building? I’d love to contribute money to things?”

  “We’d accept? I can give you the address? Just so you know? If you go there and start anything? Every one of us will be after you.”

  There’s the threat I was expecting. “Let me put it this way, if I go there and start anything with them and hurt them? I’ll get on my knees and give myself to you to punish. I want to make sure they’re okay. I’d love to find out if I can get their mortmagi out somehow.”

  “No one can do that.”

  “Funny. I’ve done it to myself already. Twice. The original set and then one that girl from last year managed to ram into me during our challenge. I don’t know if I can do it for others, but I’d be willing to try. It hurt to do more than I can say. Just way less than what it really feels like to have those fucking things in your face.”

  Long stare. “I’ll give you the address. If you can help them? That would make things so much better. Even if it’s just getting them out and they still can’t see. Being blind and a norm is not the same thing as being a stricken to the supernatural community.”

  “Ain’t that the truth?”

  Chapter 24

  My new grimoires got the same protection as my old set, and I dropped them off back in the dorm to keep them safe. I could hear Eva in the bathroom, but I didn’t try to stay and talk to her. She’s been…distant, is the best way to put it. As has Tiffany. Eva rarely says anything at all in the room, while Tiffany won’t come in if I’m there. If she comes to the door, Eva leaves with her.

  As if I wouldn’t let them meet in the room. They act like I’m holding a grudge when I’m clearly not.

  Well, maybe it’s clear to me. So hard to say.

  Once everything was back in place, I left again, flying up high as I watched my GPS. The shop owner finally gave me her name; Alicia Thornrow. I have to say that I really like her. She’s crazy nervous about giving me the information on the stricken, yet I think the fact that I was completely honest with her when I told her that I’d let her punish me really sold it to her. I’d do it, too. I don’t want to hurt these people. I really and truly don’t. If I can help them, I want to do it. But I want to check out the building first.

  As I flew, I was shocked to realize just how not in town the place is. I expected some small place with people hanging out, yet that’s not it at all. She didn’t really elaborate other than saying it’s a place for them to live and hopefully thrive. The people that help put money in a pot, and then some of them use it to help them. Get food. Help with the place they’re living. Try to help them with fitting in. At least as much as possible. It sounds like they have someone teaching them braille. They get them internet access. Things like that. Some of them can work, while the newer ones are still struggling just to stay alive.

  This is so messed up. Beyond it, actually.

  My flight takes me out over some gorgeous territory. I’m not rocketing along, yet I’m moving at a decent speed. It still takes me most of 20 minutes to reach where the GPS says I need to go. It’s soooo not a building like I was expecting. My map app tells me that the land is pretty big. Huge, honestly. I’m seeing some cropland and some trees with fruit on them, I’m just not sure how a blind person handles stuff like that. If my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me, I see apple trees as the most dominant. Then I think some of those might be cherry trees? Some corn. Some grape vines. Umm…potatoes? I think that’s what I’m seeing. Not something I expected to see here, that’s for sure.

  There’s a huge house here. Not quite a mansion, although it’s plenty big enough. Then there are two other houses right near it. A huge pool is between them. Then there’s a larger outbuilding that I think actually houses most of them. It’s metal, yet I see chimneys and those pipe things that you’d see on the roof of a house. Interesting. Then again, there are three other barn-type buildings a little way away from them.

  There are folks outside as I circle. I’m seeing mortmagi already on them. One person is sitting at the edge of the pool, legs kicking in the water. Two more are in the field with the apple trees. I can’t quite tell what they’re doing. Two others are walking. They have the traditional white and red canes with them, which is probably good. Lord knows how you’d get around otherwise in a situation like this. I never had one, but I wasn’t really out of the house at all, either. You don’t quite need that when your world is the tiny apartment I shared with Jean or the few rooms I was able to go in at Reggie’s place. When I was outside of there, I was normally with him or his friends, so it’s not like I ever needed to figure out how to walk down a city street.

  Damn, even having been blind for half of my life, I still have to give credit to everyone that fights through that daily. I lucked into being healed and I can’t be thankful enough for that. I just wish others could have the same thing happen.

  Instead of landing by the pool, I head towards the front of the huge house and come in for a landing. I’m shocked as shit to see a familiar person sitting on the front steps, leaning against the railing. I can tell from her shoulders that she’s crying, although none of the tears escape the mortmagi. They get routed down her tear ducts, making crying like that a fucking nightmare. Every sniffle hurts your eyes even more.

  That’s part of the horrific nature of those things. Normally, I’d expect the damage to sort of heal. Yes, your eyes are gone, but I’d expect them to sort of atrophy. Or rot, maybe? They don’t, though. They stay kinda normal, as if the damage was just done. Yet every moment of having the knives in there hurts like pure agony. Moving your eyes? Even worse. As if the damage was being done again and again.

  My feet touch down as her head comes up. I’m a solid 20 feet from her, yet I can pick up her fear.

  “Please don’t get up!”

  She freezes at hearing my voice as her head tilts. “Who are you? You sound familiar. We’re protected here, if you hurt us, they won’t stop hunting you.” Now I can pick up her terror on the light breeze.

  Shifting, I padded towards her. I have my bag of clothes still, but it’s not worth cha
nging. She’s blind, you know? That on top of me not caring means you can get away with a ton that way. “I’m Maddie.”

  She catches that I’m closer and tenses more, “Please don’t come any closer!”

  “I’m sorry, you’re safe from me. I’m not here to hurt you. To hurt anyone here.”

  “Then what do you want? You just flew in, you’re a dragon. You see who I am. What I am. That means you’re here to hurt me. Us. We just want to live; can’t you bastards get that through your skulls?!?”

  Damn, man. I think that means people have been fucking with them. “I’m not here to hurt you, Jenny. Not at all.”

  Her breathing hitched, “How…how do you know my name? Is that my name?”

  She doesn’t react as I move up and sit on the other side of the steps from her. “Yeah, that’s your name. I don’t know if it was Jennifer, though. You didn’t say.”

  “How do you know that? Who are you?”

  “I’m Maddie? From first year?”

  “I…I don’t understand? I lost so much when the spell hit me. The only Maddie I remember is the girl that came in. She used to be stricken. She was planning on killing all of us.” Her tears start again. I can hear it in her voice. Her sniffling kicks into high gear again as well.

  “For the record? I never, not even once, had any plans to collect people and kill them. Not once. I still don’t know who was spreading rumors about me to everyone, but they got to everyone. I lost every ally but one from it. Everyone believed that I wanted to kill the weak, when I meant what I said. Had we banded together we could have made it through. As it was, I had to basically force nearly half of the class to make it through the trial. They were set to kill each other at the last step. No one could trust anyone else enough to make it through. So I was the guard for everyone.”

  “No…no. Your voice sounds familiar, but you can’t be her. Everyone knew what she had planned for us.”

  Fucking hell. I’m gonna hurt whoever spread those lies. Somehow. If I ever figure out who did it.