Flynn Nightsider and the Edge of Evil

by Mary Fan

  But it was worth it.

  He’d lost any shred of the life he’d known before, but he didn’t regret where he was, and he wouldn’t want to go back if given the chance. A day ago, he’d been trapped, doomed to a lowly existence with no hope.

  For the first time in his life, he could make a difference to the world. For the first time in his life, he mattered.

  “So. You’re the Untouchable One.” Aurelia’s voice reverberated against the training room’s rounded wall, and Flynn turned to find her standing in the doorway. She entered, holding two swords. An excited look lit her black eyes. “But that doesn’t make you, well, untouchable.”

  She lunged at him. Startled, Flynn grabbed the first weapon he could reach, which turned out to be a blunted training sword. He held it up in alarm, blocking as she swung one of her blades at him.

  To his surprise, Aurelia didn’t continue her attack. She dropped her arm with a quizzical expression. “Huh. That’s interesting.”

  “What?” He cautiously lowered his sword.

  “You’re unpredictable.” From the way her gaze bored into his, she seemed to be trying to read his mind. “I thought you’d duck or run away. You grabbed the sword. Didn’t see that one coming, which is weird because… Let’s just say you’re the first person to have surprised me in a while.”

  Flynn wasn’t sure whether to take that as a compliment, but he supposed being unpredictable was a good thing. “Thanks?”

  “So did you pick up anything about monster-fighting back at the Academy?”

  “Not much. Just that all supernatural creatures are vulnerable to silver.”

  “You’re right. That’s not much.”

  The mocking smirk Aurelia gave him sparked Flynn’s annoyance. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been barred from even looking at the Cadets’ textbooks. “It was enough to save the Gold Triumvir’s son from the three specters.”

  “You did that, eh?” Aurelia raised her eyebrows in obvious disbelief. “Sure.”

  “It’s true! They attacked us in the library, and I fended them off. You can ask Williams. He’s the one who showed up to banish them.”

  Aurelia’s eyes brightened with curiosity. “What happened?”

  As he recounted the tale, Flynn realized that the reason he had made it through the haunted library unharmed was because the specters had been powerless against him. It hadn’t been the silver frame that had warded them off. It had been him. When he finished his story, he looked at Aurelia, hoping she’d be impressed.

  “You are so stupid.” She let out a humorless laugh. “Running back into the library with all those specters around… If you weren’t Untouchable, you’d be dead!”

  Flynn’s irritation returned. “What else was I supposed to do? Those specters would’ve torn Connor to shreds!”

  Aurelia looked as though she was about to call him stupid again then relaxed her expression. “That’s true. I guess you did kinda save his life.”

  Flynn detected a trace of admiration behind that dry lilt she always seemed to speak with, and for some reason, he felt as though he’d won a prize.

  “You’re still an idiot.” Aurelia spoke with disgust, but Flynn could tell she didn’t really mean it. “Hey, do you know why Connor stayed in the library in the first place?”

  “He needed to get his notebook.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I’m not kidding. I have no idea why that notebook was so special, though. I got my hands on it later, and it was blank. He must have enchanted it to hide the writing—” Flynn broke off as he realized that if that had been the case, the enchantment would have stopped working as soon as he picked up the notebook. “No, that can’t be it. I flipped through it and didn’t see anything.”

  “Weird.” Aurelia crinkled her nose. After a moment, her eyes brightened, and her mouth formed an O. “It must have been a Nuntius Book—N-Book for short. You write something in one, and it shows up in another that was made with the same magic. Instant communication. Connor must’ve been talking to someone. I wonder who.” Her expression turned to concern. “Hey, is he okay? Do you know how he’s doing?”

  “Yeah, he’s fine. Why do you care so much?”

  Aurelia shifted her weight uncomfortably. “We… were friends. Back at the Academy, I mean.”

  Flynn saw his opportunity to get back at her for all her previous zings and gave her a joking smile. “I get it. The Firedragon and the Gold Triumvir’s son: the Academy’s star-crossed lovers.”

  Aurelia’s expression turned furious. She jabbed a fist at his arm. “We were not lovers! Not Connor! Ew!”

  Flynn laughed. “Hey, I’m not judging! You must have been the envy of all the girls.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about! Besides, he doesn’t even like girls!” She stormed across the room.

  “Oh… my bad.” Flynn was about to quip that half the Academy would be disappointed to learn that but realized that half the Academy might already be aware, for all he knew. He hadn’t exactly known Connor personally. “So, what, you were best friends?”

  “I liked hanging out with him, okay? He wasn’t like his brothers and sisters—spoiled, selfish, entitled brats! He wanted the Triumvirate to change as much as I did, and it never mattered that he was an Enchanter, and I was a Norm. I even told him before I ran away, and instead of reporting me or trying to talk me out of it, do you know what he said? ‘Good for you. I wish I could come.’” Aurelia sighed and looked out the window. “He’s a great guy… I miss him.”

  Flynn realized that he had struck something real in her, something he shouldn’t have made fun of. From the way she talked, she and Connor had been as close as he was with Brax—or rather, had been. He still couldn’t believe he’d never see that guy again. An unexpected grief weighed on his heart, and he realized Aurelia had to feel the same way about Connor.

  “I’m sorry. I left a best friend behind too.”

  Aurelia’s expression turned sympathetic. “It gets better. After a bit, you stop missing people so much.”

  She knit her eyebrows and spun back to the window.

  Wondering what had her so concerned, Flynn approached. All he saw were the darkening sky and the black outlines of the dark forest beyond the equally dark field. A bright yellow light flashed across the distant treetops, and he jumped. “What was that?”

  “Not sure. I’ll check it out.” Aurelia rushed out of the tower, still holding her two swords.

  Flynn followed her down the stairs, scrambling to keep up. They reached the ground level and crossed the grand hall. Aurelia threw open the door at the front of the Citadel, ran outside, and halted by the columns before the door, on the top step of the curved stone stairs leading down to the field.

  Flynn stopped beside her. In the darkness, the enchantments surrounding the Citadel glowed like a thick silver mist at the edge of the field, right before the trees. “See anything?”

  She shook her head. “It kinda looked like a hellhorn’s fire, but they’re supposed to be extinct in these parts. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were back, though. Something’s stirring in the Underworld, and everyone knows it. I wish I knew why.” She snapped her gaze toward the trees.

  Flynn surveyed the field, trying to see what had caught her attention. A series of soft thuds sounded in the distance. What’s that?

  A soft breeze blew toward him, carrying a faint odor. It was barely there but instantly recognizable: the stench of decay. The last time Flynn had smelled something so foul had been six years earlier.

  “Draugr,” he whispered. The odor suddenly became sickeningly pungent, and he gagged. “Can’t you smell that?”

  “Smell what?” Aurelia gave him a funny look.

  The silver mist parted. Flynn stared in disbelief. An undead giant, standing taller than the trees behind it, trundled toward the Citadel. It
had the same rotten gray flesh as the one Flynn had seen before, some of which was peeling off its skull. The draugr’s stringy white hair fell across its empty eye sockets, and its rotting, torn clothes hung off its massive frame. It reached out with a pair of bloody arms that looked as though they had been sliced open, and its grotesque gray lips split into a twisted grin.

  It was not alone. Several shadowy human figures followed it.

  Aurelia gasped and ran back into the Citadel. “Calhoun! We’re under attack! It’s the Defiants!” She continued shouting from the doorway, yelling at the Risers to come quickly.

  Flynn was too captivated by the sight of the advancing enemies to move. One of the figures had an arm raised, holding a glowing red wand. He couldn’t make out the man’s face, but he instinctively knew who it had to be. There was only one person who would both lead the Defiants and control a draugr. Tydeus Storm.

  An enormous fireball materialized before the Citadel, blocking Storm from view. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind the shadowy form of a fangbeast.

  Flynn stared. He’d seen pictures of such creatures before, but he’d never thought he’d see one in the flesh. The large, hound-like creature snarled. Fire ringed its pointed tail and twisted horns, which rose above its pointed ears, and its black fur seemed to melt into the night. Two glowing white fangs curved down from its upper lip, each flanked by two smaller ones, and its red eyes pierced the darkness. Though fear gripped him at the sight of the creature widely known as the Underworld’s deadliest, he found himself frozen in place. A real, live fangbeast stood before him, and he couldn’t look away.

  The fangbeast roared—a sound akin to tiger’s cry mixed with the whoosh of igniting flames—and split into two identical clones. Each split again and again and again until about a dozen creatures paced the field before the Citadel.

  Oh, hell. The fascination disappeared, leaving behind a sick feeling of impending doom. There was a good reason everyone feared fangbeasts so much. Spells bounced off them, and their wounds healed immediately. What kind of evil power must Storm have possessed to control such a thing? And even with Enchanters in their ranks, how could the Rising defeat it?

  Flynn glanced back, aiming to warn the people in the Citadel, but from the sounds of their shouts, they’d already spotted the monster. Several people rushed out the door, armed with guns or wands, their faces fierce with the anticipation of battle.

  Meanwhile, Aurelia approached him at a steady walk, her eyes fixed on the fangbeast and her fists tight around her sword hilts. The edges of two black blades glinted beside her.

  “What now?” he asked.

  Aurelia firmed her mouth, and her eyes flashed with fierceness. She raised her swords by her sides. “Now, you get to see why they call me the Firedragon.”

  Chapter 10

  Attack in the Night

  Flynn watched in shock as Aurelia sprinted at the fangbeast. He briefly wondered if he should stop her before she got herself killed then recalled having heard that she’d taken on a fangbeast before. Someone had to destroy it before it endangered everyone at the Citadel, and he wished that someone could be him. But with his lack of skills, the only thing he’d do by following her onto the scene would be to get himself mauled—or worse, distract Aurelia and get her mauled as well. Not knowing what else to do, he stared as she approached the multiplying monster, which had become several roaring, sharp-toothed clones.

  Still running, Aurelia clanged her blades together. “Metal fire!” she yelled. The blades glowed yellow, as though someone had set them ablaze. The fangbeast—or rather, fangbeasts—turned to her, glowing red eyes fixed on her weapons. They appeared mesmerized by the swords’ radiance. Flynn, too, was mesmerized. He forgot where he was and what else was going on around him. All he seemed able to do was watch Aurelia in fascination. The beautiful light her swords gave off seemed incongruent with their lethal purpose and the danger their wielder faced.

  One of the creatures leaped at Aurelia, and he gasped. She swung both swords to her side then raised her right arm and brought one sword across her body, cutting its throat. With a swift backhand, she repeated the stroke with her other sword. She brought the first sword around over her head as though drawing a ring in the air and sliced across the creature’s neck. Its head tumbled to the ground.

  Another fangbeast clone ran at her from behind. Flynn opened his mouth to warn her, but before he could call out, she spun toward it. She brought her blades across her body, decapitating the clone with the same three-stroke pattern. She whipped to the side and beheaded another before it had a chance to make its move.

  The yellow glow of her weapons surrounded her, and she became a human cyclone of blades. Her eyes, reflecting the blades’ light, seemed to glow gold, as though flames flickered behind her previously black irises. The bright illumination appeared to attract the attention of the hound-like creatures since they all targeted her, ignoring the others on the field. She seemed to anticipate the beasts’ movements, cutting them down the moment they approached and eliminating new clones as soon as they appeared. She swept her arms with grace, drawing bright arcs in the air as she hit her targets with swift precision.

  Flynn found himself unable to look away even though his heart pounded with nervousness at the sight of a lone girl against multiplying monsters. The sight was too amazing—and strangely beautiful with Aurelia’s fluid motions and her long, thick hair whirling around her. He understood why even the Gold Triumvir would notice her enough to write to Everett about her. She was the Firedragon: a girl of extraordinary skill, lethal and elegant, who seemed as supernatural as the monsters she fought.

  A blue light caught his eye. Tearing his gaze from Aurelia, Flynn saw the Risers heading across the field, carrying enchanted blue shields that glowed with magic. They engaged the draugr, shooting it with wand blasts and projectile weapons. The undead giant, which Flynn had nearly forgotten about, apparently possessed magical abilities. It blasted through the Enchanters’ force fields, clearing a path for the Defiants to advance, and swatted away bullets and blasts as though they were gnats. Its crumbling lips spread into a warped grin, and the rotten flesh near its empty eye sockets crinkled with glee.

  Tydeus Storm, holding his glowing wand over his head, strode toward the Citadel. Each step was taken with confidence, as though he knew that with the forces of the Underworld powering him, he couldn’t be stopped. Flynn’s hatred for the murderer surged back. He wanted to attack Storm himself and avenge his mother. None of Storm’s dark powers would have any effect on him. If he were to charge at the man, there would be no stopping him.

  A hand grabbed Flynn’s shoulder, and he whirled to see Calhoun beside him. “What the devil do you think you’re doing?”

  He pointed at Flynn’s right hand. Flynn suddenly realized he was still holding the training sword he’d grabbed in the tower. “I was—”

  “We’ll handle this.” Calhoun gave Flynn a shove toward the door. “You think magic’s the only weapon the Defiants have? Just because their wand blasts can’t get you doesn’t mean their blades can’t find a home in your throat, and we can’t afford to lose you. So get inside, now!”

  Flynn wanted to protest, but he realized Calhoun was right. As much as he wanted revenge, he couldn’t lose sight of the bigger things at stake. The Rising needed him alive. Being Untouchable meant that his life was no longer just about him, and with that in mind, he reluctantly reentered the Citadel.

  He walked through the large, open hall, wondering how he was supposed to sit out when the people who’d rescued him from the Triumvirate faced the greatest dangers the Underworld could conjure. Not only that, but the man who’d killed his mother was out there, close enough that Flynn could see his shadowy figure advancing toward the building through the tall, rectangular windows.

  He stopped and looked out. The anxiety of watching a battle he couldn’t fight made him so
edgy, he couldn’t keep still, and he started pacing. The field before the Citadel had turned into two separate battlegrounds: the Risers facing off with the draugr and the Defiants on the left and Aurelia singlehandedly engaging the fangbeast clones on the right.

  His gaze fixed on her. She was one against half a dozen creatures that kept multiplying, and his heart jumped each time one of them pounced at her. At the same time, her movements were so exact, they could have been choreographed, and all the fangbeast’s attempts to stop her were swiftly truncated. Intense energy burned behind each swing, as though each stroke was her first. Monsters’ horned heads tumbled around her, dissolving into the air seconds after they were separated from their bodies, which also vanished.

  She’s incredible. Flynn watched in awe, certain that he could train all his life and never gain such skill.

  Meanwhile, the draugr approached, and the ground trembled with each heavy, plodding footstep. The Defiants followed, and it served as their shield, absorbing the Risers’ spells and gunfire. Flynn recalled that the creature had the ability to walk through walls, and he wondered if whatever protections the Risers had put around the building would keep it out. Calhoun had wanted him to go inside for safety, but if the draugr seeped through the Citadel’s stone façade, he’d be no better off here than outside.

  One of the Defiants broke off from the advancing group and ran at Aurelia, who appeared too busy decapitating fangbeast clones to notice. Flynn eyed the silhouetted figure, narrowing his eyes. Did the Defiants send the fangbeast to isolate Aurelia? She was undoubtedly the Rising’s greatest fighter. Maybe this was their way of taking her out of the battle.