Shadowspell Academy: The Culling Trials: Books 1-3 Omnibus

by Shannon Mayer

  Through Wally’s ongoing chatter, one thought kept cycling through my head—an apology to Dad. To Sam and Billy. I’m so sorry. I screwed this up. I’m so sorry.

  We stopped five times in total after my pick up. I rolled the states through my mind. Arkansas, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio. We were getting closer to New York at least, but how close? Could I find a way out of this mess?

  After the third stop, I stopped thinking about anything but getting the zip ties off and having a pee. My wrists were numb, but my bladder surely was not and each bump and drop of the helicopter made the urge worse.

  “I think we’re almost there,” Wally said, breaking off her monologue about paper cuts getting infected and going gangrene in a rather small number of people—a freak occurrence, but an unfortunate way to go. Hardly heroic.

  “Almost where?”

  “You don’t know?” She sounded genuinely surprised. “I mean, you really don’t know?”

  The helicopter began to descend rapidly, throwing us all into the air for a split second, the lack of gravity making my belly roll. As we dropped and hit the floor once more, my heart rate skyrocketed. There was no time to ask Wally what she meant, and really, I didn’t need to. I’d been a fool not to figure it out earlier. Anyone who threatened a family would do something this insane and violent.

  They’d given me a ride. How sweet of them to wrap me up like a present.

  And now, we’d arrived at the Culling Trials.

  Chapter 8

  A popping sound filled the interior of the helicopter as if a balloon had been burst, and the steady drum of rotor blades assaulted my senses. Something had definitely been hampering the sound so we could all hear one another speaking without headsets. Now, there was nothing but noise and darkness, mitigated only by that one tiny peephole that had become my salvation for the ride.

  Something hard brushed against my back. A knee. The bag was ripped off my head, and light bit into my eyeballs, as jolting as the onslaught of sound. I ducked my head and squinted as my wrists were tugged. My hands came free, tingling and numb as strong fingers curled around my upper arm.

  “Time to show us what you’re made of.” I heard the words still audible over the helicopter as though they’d been delivered right to my ear. The familiar voice sent shivers down my spine.

  I blinked my eyes opened, forcing myself to acclimate to the sound and light. Shorter than me still and built stockier with a hand that seemed made out of pure metal was my old friend.

  Sideburns.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, sounding as lame as someone could. It was all I could think to say. This was obviously his gig, and my rough handling was likely by his instruction.

  Sideburns jerked me past the bodies of other kids in the helicopter, my feet catching on limbs and my weight tipping forward. Shouts and yelps were reduced to muffled cries by the helicopter’s noise. He held me up and all but dragged me to the edge, my feet edging out into space as we started to land.

  My jaw dropped. Five other large army helicopters had landed ahead of us, with three more still in the air waiting to touch down. Before us loomed an enormous twenty-foot-high stone wall covered in ivy. The wall stretched in both directions, broken only by thick metal gates, five in all, that looked like they’d been there a very long time. Sentries lurked atop each gate, looking down on the strip of land before them, their bodies poised and hands holding guns or nothing at all. They each looked to be assigned to certain portions of the ivy wall.

  More shivers attacked me. For some reason, those sentries without weapons made me the most nervous.

  Kids tumbled out of helicopters that had already landed, falling into the dirt and scrambling to get up and wipe their eyes or rub their wrists. Others stood in lines or clustered in groups, occasionally shoved this way or that by handsy men or women dressed like Sideburns.

  All of that paled with the realization that the sun had hardly moved from when I’d been grabbed at the airport. I felt like I’d spent a whole day traveling, but the position of the sun said it must’ve been no more than a couple hours.

  Magic.

  I didn’t get a chance to dwell. In the distance, rising above the cacophony of sound, roared an enormous beast.

  “What is this place?” I asked quietly as the helicopter bumped down.

  “Your future. Or your grave,” Sideburns said, somehow hearing me. He jerked me to the right. “The choice is yours.”

  “Clearly it isn’t, since you kidnapped me and brought me here.” I resisted him slightly, just to make him work for it. What could he do, kidnap me again?

  “The most important lesson one of your kind needs to learn is how to adapt.” He directed me off the helicopter and toward a table surrounded by wide-eyed kids who all blinked in a daze.

  “One of my kind?”

  He shoved a girl with straight blonde hair to the side before grabbing the shirt of a tall lanky kid and ripping him the other way, making a path for us. The kids from my helicopter were just now tumbling from its belly, landing on the dusty ground. Apparently, Sideburns holding a grudge meant I got preferential treatment. Yay me.

  “Time to wizen up, or you’ll get dead faster than you can cry for your mama,” he growled.

  “Ah.” I nodded as he pushed me against the table. “You have superior linguistics. Quite the professor.”

  He reached around to a large pocket on his side and pulled out a hat—my hat! I didn’t even remember losing it. He slapped it onto my head and pulled it down taut. A cold feeling washed through me, wondering if he knew exactly who I was. How couldn’t he? But if he did, why would he be playing along?

  “Johnson, Billy,” Sideburns barked at the table attendant, an equally hard-faced woman with a jaw that could chop boards.

  She glanced at me then down at her computer, her fingers tapping the keys with a staccato that blurred her surprisingly bright red nails. The kids around us pushed away, their tight-eyed gazes flicking to Sideburns and then quickly away. He clearly made people nervous.

  “He’s young for the trials. Have you got the appropriate permissions?” she said without inflection.

  No kidding, “Billy” was too young. All of the kids crowding into the strip between the helicopters and the imposing walls looked like recent high school graduates. My age. The same age Tommy had been when he’d left. I didn’t know what was in store for us, but it was clear that it was dangerous, and my younger brother wouldn’t have stood a chance.

  “That has been cleared, all permissions granted,” he replied, lying with ease.

  “What do you have against my family?” I asked without meaning to.

  The woman’s eyes flicked up as a handheld machine resting on the table beside her computer bleeped blue lights. She pointedly looked down at her computer.

  “Not me,” Sideburns said in a low voice, for my ears alone. “But our world? That’s a whole other issue with you and your family.”

  I didn’t have time to process that statement. The woman ripped off a piece of paper that had emerged from the machine and handed it across the table. A name tag with Billy’s name and the word “Shade” under it.

  Sideburns snatched it up before grabbing the wrist with the watch and pulling it out over the table for the woman, forcing me to bend over or lose an arm. He peeled the backing off before slapping it onto my chest, his hand briefly covering my breast before pulling away.

  I froze for one heart-stopping moment, staring at myself in his aviators, knowing that he was looking at me from behind them. A tense beat passed in which I wondered if he’d felt my flattened boob. I was skinny by boy standards even though I was all lean muscle—no way could that little squishy area pass as a pec. The sports bra had it smooshed tightly to my chest, but it was still a breast, and they felt different than anything on a man’s body. A guy like Sideburns would know that. Despite the bad choice of facial hair and the hard lines etched into his face from constant scowling, he was a looker. He would
know his way around a female’s anatomy, or a man’s, if that was his thing.

  The thought rose up again: If he knew who I really was, why was he playing along?

  Uncertainty churned my gut.

  The beat lengthened as a machine beeped in the background. My watch vibrated against my wrist. In the distance, three helicopters lifted into the air, leaving their human cargo behind.

  “All set,” the woman said.

  Sideburns turned, and my exhale gushed out of me. If he knew—and how could he not--he didn’t plan to reveal me. He grabbed me by the arm again and yanked, taking me back in the direction of the helicopter that had dropped me off, its interior empty now. It shuddered before lifting into the air.

  “Watch yourself,” Sideburns said, pulling me past a gate where a group of kids with name tags waited, shifting and fidgeting with nervousness or maybe anticipation. A few of them were grinning, which seemed out of place after a ride like that. What the hell was going on?

  He walked me toward the last gate, and as we neared it, I saw that the ivy covering the wall wasn’t the lovely docile plant I’d originally thought. Inch-long barbs covered the vines, and the leaves had fully serrated edges, scratching in warning against the concrete wall. Like nails on a chalkboard, the sound made my teeth clench.

  Sideburns finally stopped, but he didn’t back away. “Your strength has always been in adapting. This is no different. Adapt and follow your gut instincts. Don’t question your intuition, and don’t shy away from your nature. Do whatever it takes to stay alive. Always. That is your only chance.”

  I stared at him, mute, as he let go of my arm. Kids shied away from us, their widening eyes following him like they were sheep staring at a wolf in their midst. His advice made it sound like he knew me. Like he was a coach who needed to remind his star player of her training before a big match.

  Her, because he surely knew, I realized that now. He knew and he let me stay anyway. Why?

  Strangely, his words hit a primal place deep inside me. I felt their rightness. Their poignancy. Something within me responded to his suggestion.

  “Stay strong,” he said before glancing at the huge iron gate in front of us. “And stay here. This will be the easiest course for you to get through while your mind is spinning.”

  He nodded, as though I’d agreed, before striding away, his shoulders straight and head high, parting the anxious students.

  “What just happened?” I muttered to myself.

  I barely noticed the slight girl with large brown eyes and heavy black lashes drift in beside me, her gaze fixated on Sideburns.

  In her strangely deep voice, the one that reminded me of Walter Cronkite and his nightly news specials, Wally said, “Life is eternal, when you know the right people.”

  Movement at the top of the wall caught my attention as more kids filed in around me. A huge wolf prowled near the edge, looking down at the kids gathered in front of the gate. It passed in front of a stoic individual with a large knife attached to a belt around her black clad hips. A sword scabbard jutted out behind her on the other side, the weapon attached to her back within easy reach. The wolf didn’t react to her presence. She didn’t appear to notice it stalking along.

  “What is happening?” I breathed, my heart ratcheting up. Wolves did not ignore humans like that.

  “Hello.” The slight girl stepped in front of me and stuck out her hand. Her head barely reached my chin. “I’m Drexia,” she said in a squeaky voice, drastically different from the deeper one she adopted when delivering odd statistics that had little relevance. “I’m named after my beloved Nana, God rest her soul. My friends call me Wally.”

  I couldn’t help a smile. “I’m the one that called you Wally, actually. In the helicopter.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  Okay. I guess that meant we were friends now.

  I lifted my eyebrows, not really sure where to go from there. To say she was an odd duck would be a bit of an understatement.

  The last of the helicopters lifted from the ground, showing the natural land behind them, covered in dense foliage and gently rolling hills. The helicopters hadn’t been for show—I could feel it. There wouldn’t be civilization for miles. We were at the mercy of whoever ran this show.

  “What’s your name?” Wally asked, holding her hand out to me.

  “Wild.” I grimaced, quickly deepening my voice to cover my mistake. “Billy, actually. It’s Billy.”

  “Wild. I like that better. Hi, Wild.” She didn’t lower her hand.

  “Hey.” I took her hand in a sure grip, not having to pretend to have a strong handshake. Running a farm, you dealt with men a lot, and a handshake said a lot about a person. I had learned quickly to make it firm. No limp handshakes were allowed in Texas.

  The deep roar I’d heard earlier shook the ground and clattered my teeth, still way in the distance but no less potent. The wolf from before passed along the wall in the opposite direction, and though I couldn’t see for sure, it felt like its eyes were beating down into me.

  “The Tyrannosaurus Rex, often referred to as the T-Rex, lived around sixty-eight to sixty-six million years ago in what is now western North America,” Wally said as she stepped in beside me.

  A red-headed kid I immediately named Freckles pushed his way to my other side. “Why’d the Sandman bring you over here?” Freckles asked over Wally droning on about T-Rexes and their eating habits.

  “The Sandman?” I asked, watching that wolf make its way past us yet again. “How is… Why… Am I seeing things?”

  “To date, in this century, there has never been a death by mauling as it pertains to the T-Rex,” Wally said within the ebb and flow of nervous chatter around us.

  “Yeah, the Sandman,” Freckles said, apparently not realizing that someone else was also talking to me. It was a miracle I could focus on anything outside of a massive predator walking the walls of some sort of death compound. “He has the most career kills of anyone of his kind. Rumor is he’s a millionaire from all the high-dollar contracts he’s taken, but he doesn’t do too many anymore because he’s bored. He needs a bigger challenge. That’s why he became a teacher in the House of Shade. Rumor is he’s creating his own army. This is his first year of recruiting. Did he say anything to you?”

  “To date,” Wally said, fingering a button on her sweater as she watched the top of the wall, “in this century, the Sandman has laid to rest over one thousand people that we know of, the most lethal in the House of Shade, driving fear into the hearts of the students, and creating discourse between the faculty and the school headmaster.”

  “Yeah. Him,” Freckles said. “Do you know him?”

  “He threatened my family if I didn’t show up.” I glanced down the wall before pushing up onto my tiptoes. Six feet might not have set any records for height, even for a girl, but it was usually tall enough to see over a crowd of people.

  More groups of people waited down the way, each clustered in front of one of the gates. A few people stood closer to the wall, but most were pushed back in a big horde, shifting and fidgeting in a way that indicated they weren’t excited about what lay beyond. It spoke of the unknown. Of nasty surprises.

  “Oh.” Freckles nodded like my answer made all sorts of sense. “You must’ve been on the ‘hard case’ roster and gotten unlucky with him. A lot of people didn’t think he’d do well as a recruiter for the House of Shade because he’s lacking in his manipulation techniques. Clearly he found another way that suited him better.”

  I frowned as I looked down on Freckles, seeing the logic in what he was saying, but bewildered all the same by the lingo. “Huh?” was about all I could muster.

  “Yeah, he probably brought you up personally to prove a point. Man, that sucks.” Freckles shook his head and shifted to the side. A lithe and beautiful woman walked along the edge of the wall, a serene smile on her face and a stick in her hand. “This place is scary enough. I can’t imagine dealing with his threats on top of it.”


  “The House of Wonder.” Wally’s voice dropped. “Beware that which beguiles and delights, for a blade is hidden under the mage’s robe.”

  “What is this place?” I asked as the beautiful woman passed in front of the black-clad woman, who was so still, I almost lost track of her presence. Almost.

  Wally turned her gaze to my face. “Did your parents not tell you of this place? I wondered about that in the helicopter, a metal beast not meant to fly.”

  I shook my head. “No, they must have forgotten to include it in their bedtime stories.”

  “They didn’t tell you anything?” Freckles asked, turning to survey me as well. “Why not?” He tilted his head in commiseration. “Did they think it was cheating? Yeah, my dad said I should experience it blind, like he did. That it would make a man out of me. But my mom walked me through everything I might face. Don’t worry, I’ll help you, man.”

  “Attention, everyone.” The speaker was the beautiful woman who’d walked past us, and although I could barely see her now, her voice rang out with perfect clarity. “Attention, please.”

  The noise and chatter from the ground died down. A few fingers came up to point.

  The woman continued to make her way along the wall until she stood in what I assumed was the center above the middle iron gate.

  “Welcome to the annual Culling Trials.” She lifted her hands to the sky and a cheer rose from around me and on down the way from all the other kids. “Here is where we will test your mettle. Your strength. Your speed. Your know-how. Here is where you will learn if you have what it takes to advance into the Academy of Shadowspell, or if you’ll be doomed to a life…of lesser.”

  A wave of chatter followed her pronouncement. Feet shifted and scraped against the dirt. Bodies pressed in tighter, the anxiety and excitement palpable.

  “I really hope I make it through,” Freckles said softly. “My dad said he would disown me if I didn’t. I mean, he was joking, but…” Freckles’s voice reduced down to a soft mutter. “I’m pretty sure he was joking…”