by Valia Lind
Remembering Majyk
Skazka Chronicles #1
Valia Lind
Contents
Remembering Majyk
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Note from the Author
Do you like academy adventure romance?
About the Author
Also by Valia Lind
Copyright © 2020 by Valia Lind
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover by Gombar Cover Designs
Remembering Majyk
Skazka Chronicles #1
Valia Lind
For Mom, who first introduced me to stories.
For Dad, who continues to share them with me every day.
In a far away land,
Where majyk thrives,
There's a war raging on,
Shattering the quiet skies.
Good versus evil,
Wrong versus right.
The balance in danger,
With no end in sight.
The hero's journey,
Has just began.
For this is not a story,
Of a long ago time.
The battlefield's set.
The weapon's are drawn.
And the majyk pulses,
To the beat of the drum.
Du-dum, du-dum, du-dum...
The battle has begun.
Prologue
Darkness envelopes me like a cloak of fine silk, rustling against my skin and calming my racing heart.
I've been running for what seems like hours and the night is a welcomed protector, keeping me hidden from the monsters. The rain comes as sudden as a shadow of a bird racing through the sky, soaking me instantly.
I shouldn't have ran.
I shouldn't have panicked.
Although, if I ever had a time to panic, right now would be the best possible moment. When you go to a party for a friend, and get attacked by monsters straight out of some dark fairytale book, panicking is almost demanded. My heart is racing, as I try to calm myself down long enough to figure out what to do. I stop moving, letting my eyes scan the street around me, but there is nothing but a sheet of rain between me and the buildings.
I hear footsteps behind me, the same instant a body comes crashing around me. Strong arms pin me close to a solid chest, slamming me against the wall. I yelp and a hand claps over my mouth. Struggling against the human cage, a fierce whisper pierces my ear.
"Hold still, Calista."
Just like that, everything freezes inside me. My body heats up at the sound of his voice and I raise my head to find Brendan's eyes on mine. He's the last person I expect to see, and yet, this feels as familiar as a memory.
I open my mouth to ask the question, but he shakes his head and transfers his attention to our surroundings. The tall buildings rise on each side of us, the rain making everything glisten in the darkness. The full moon casts shadows on the cars parked along the street, turning a typical neighborhood into a scene straight out of a horror movie.
"Come on. We have to get out of here."
Brendan grabs my hand and pulls me after him, away from the main road. Surprisingly, I don't question him, but follow as he leads me away with the same urgency that runs through my blood. I stumble over my feet, but he keeps me upright. Glancing behind me I see shadows moving, closing in. There's at least a dozen bodies running after us, close to the ground as if sniffing out our scent.
"Brendan!" I choke on his name, as the panic threatens to overwhelm my senses. He glances over his shoulder, assessing the situation and I see the frustration written there as plain as day. The odds don't look so good for us, and he knows it.
Before I can offer advice, he pushes through a door on our right. Running behind him, as he holds my hand steady in his, I wonder how in the world I have found myself in this position. The thought is much calmer than I expect my mind to be at the moment, and that makes me pause. Brendan senses me slowing down, and turns to look behind him.
"What's going on Brendan?" I ask, when his eyes meet mine. I’m not even that out of breath. ”What are those things and why are they chasing us?" My voice rises with panic, as if now that I'm saying the words out loud, it's finally real.
"Now is really not the time for questions, Cali. We have to get to the roof."
"That's great and all, but you don't actually expect me to trust you, right?" I ignore the fact that it seems I was doing just that thirty seconds ago. It's like a reflex. It's been that way since the day I met Brendan. The moment he came into my life it was like trying to tune a radio and finally finding the right station. The feedback buzz is gone and there's comfortable silence.
"Cali, you already trust me. Don't deny it now. And once we get out of here alive, I will answer as many questions as I can, but for now, we need to move."
There is truth to his words, because I do know him and I do trust him. For some reason, that's all I need to hear before I'm the one dragging him up the stairs.
1
FIVE HOURS EARLIER
"I'm pretty sure no one wears shirts that way." I comment, as my best friend Jemma walks into the room. She's strutting her stuff, the bright orange and yellow shirt handing off her hips.
"Wait, this is a shirt? Well, that makes a lot more sense."
I laugh at the mock horror in her voice, shaking my head at her antics. She throws one of her exaggerated sighs my way, and strips the shirt off, before reaching for the dress she picked out earlier. It takes her all of two seconds to pull the material over her body, and then she turns on me.
"Can you please hurry up already?" She grumbles as I reach down to zip up my boots. She's been saying that for the last hour, even though it's another two hours before the party officially starts.
"Chill, Jemma. We'll get there."
Straightening, I check my reflection in the mirror one more time, cataloging the ordinary features that grace my face. Slightly tanned skin, small lips, and hair that can’t decide between the color of mud and chocolate. I tried to tame my ridiculous mane into some curls, but as usual, it didn't turn out as exciting as I hoped. My hair is too unpredictable, with the random straight, curly and wavy strands all meshed together. The only possibly interesting thing about me are my eyes. Medium sized, framed by long eyelashes, they look gray in most light, turning so dark at times, that they look somewhere between midnight blue and dark purple. No one has eyes like mine.
My best friend, on
the other hand, is gorgeous in that super model way. All legs and blonde hair cascading down her back, she walks into a room and everyone stares. She's just as outgoing as she is beautiful and that is the reason she's dragging me to this party. She says I don't socialize enough, even though I socialize plenty.
"Let's go, slow poke." She tugs on my arm and I have only enough time to grab my bag before we're out of the door.
I lock up, while Jemma stands beside me rocking back and forth on her heels, crossing and uncrossing her arms. It's like she's afraid I'll run back inside and put on my pajamas so I can stay in and watch my favorite brothers battle some new evil this week. Truth be told, I've thought it about it. She knows me too well.
"You know, there's nothing wrong with having a quiet Saturday evening." I comment, getting into the passenger side of her Prius. She's one of the few freshmen on campus who actually own a car, which earns her a lot of points with the crowd. It's actually how we got invited to the off-campus shindig in the first place. That, and her charming personality.
"Did I say there was anything wrong with that? No." She answers her own question as she pulls out into the main road. "But a night out with your best friend at one of the hottest college houses off campus is not something you walk away from!"
I laugh at her enthusiasm, but don't argue any further. I've been promising her a party for weeks now. As the two of the youngest freshmen on campus, both of us being seventeen, it’s pretty impressive we’re invited to the party at all. I can’t back out now. Even though crowds make me uncomfortable. I've been to enough parties over the years to have a system down, so I'm not that worried. But she would be worried if I didn't complain at least a little bit. It’s like tradition.
It takes all of thirty minutes to arrive to the house. I look around, taking it all in as soon as we step through the front door. There sure are a lot of bodies here. I'm going to have to ditch my jean jacket soon, since it's already starting to smother me in this heat. I motion Jemma toward the back of the house, the music is already too loud to have a normal conversation, and she nods, following my footsteps.
We discard our outwear in the front room, then head toward the kitchen. I'm following Jemma now, since she seems to know where she's going, and I can already see a number of guys checking her out. As per usual, she's about to disappear on me and head to the dance floor.
"Ladies," one of the guys leaning against the wall calls out to us. I turn to him, but his eyes are on Jemma. She glances over at me and I do a once over of the guy as he heads toward us. He's not putting off any creeper vibes, so I nod my head at Jemma and she turns to the guy in time to give him a brilliant smile. This is how we do it.
I seem to have an unbelievably acute sense when it comes to people. It takes me about three seconds to determine whether someone is going to be a problem or not. Now Jemma doesn't even bother talking to a guy unless I approve. I've been right more times than I wanted to count on the whole creepy factor.
Knowing she's taken care of, I grab a Dr. Pepper out of the cooler, and head for a dark corner of the room to people watch. It's my favorite activity at these kind of things. Since my people radar is so attuned, it's interesting to see just what sort of people are around me. I can already pinpoint the few who are going to be a problem by the end of the night and I have to chuckle to myself. People are so predicable.
I'm good like this. There's an uncanny stillness that is always present inside of me, something that I've had for as long as I can remember. It keeps me grounded, even with the chaos going on around me. My eyes catalogue the people dancing, laughing, drinking, automatically. As if my eyes were made for it. I used to find it unusual how calm and cynical I can be when it came to situations around me, but I've since learned how to use my skills to benefit me. Some may call me indifferent at times, but I think I just learned how to hone my emotions in the way most people my age haven't. It's not a bad thing, but it does make me different.
After ten minutes of people watching, I need a break. The walls feel too constricting around me, as usual. Too many people, not enough floor space. I dodge a particularly happy couple and then I'm outside. Instantly, I breathe easier and the sheen of sweat that began to cover my skin dissipates.
Michigan is a beautiful state, full of luscious nature. It's what attracted me most about coming to school here. I walk past the groups of people in the backyard, heading for a cluster of bushes on the side of the fence. It's hidden in the shadows and I smile because I see the space around it is unoccupied. My hands run over the leaves, which are holding on to their greenery, even though it's October. The weather has been so weird lately, not just here, but all over the states. Storms come out of nowhere, tearing up towns, but this place seems to be untouched for the time being. And I’m thankful.
"You know, you are very predictable."
I hear a voice behind me, and instantly, my cool skin heats up as if touched by a flame. It's only my self control that keeps me from jumping at the sound, and when I turn and face Brendan, he's wearing a smirk on his face that I find oh so irritating.
"I could say the same to you. Stalking much?" I ask, giving him a pointed look. He chuckles, but I swear he looks slightly guilty for a moment, before the mask is back in place. As usual, I find my people detector malfunctioning with him, and it's frustrating.
"I wanted to see how long it would take you to head outside, and here you are. Twenty minutes after arrival, on the dot."
"Oh, so you are stalking me."
"Carefully observing."
"Because that makes it less weird?"
I laugh, because it's the best defense against the strange effect he has on me. Since the moment I met him, my second day on campus during orientation week, I felt like I've known him forever. The instant connection more than unnerved me, and I've been trying to keep him at arms length ever since. He doesn't seem to have the same hiccup.
"At least a fraction," he replies, with a smile. It's hard to keep myself from returning it. He just has a way of getting under my skin, without even trying.
"Now that we have that established..." I say, pushing past him and heading back to the house. I can't stay around him for more than a few minutes at a time, before I start to give in to his charm. There's a big part of me that's uncomfortable with just how comfortable I am with him. If that makes any kind of sense.
I hear his chuckle, but he doesn't follow me. Smart boy. I tell myself not to turn around, but I can feel his eyes on me as I move through the crowd. A smile is still on my face as I smack right into a body much larger than my own.
"I'm sorry—” I start, but never finish. Rough hands seize my elbows and I glance up to find a stranger, much older than those around him, staring down at me. His face ripples for a second, as if someone has thrown a pebble into water, disarming me. I blink and the image is gone. I try to move back, but the grip tightens.
"Excuse me. Let go."
The man doesn't budge, his lips curling up in a sinister smirk as his grip grows tighter still. I can feel blood pooling under his fingertips, my arm going numb. When he opens his mouth to speak, it's as if a storm is brewing.
"Calista Faulkner, we need to talk."
That said, he drags me from the room.
2
“What’s going on?" I shout, as the stranger shoves me into the room used to store all of our stuff, shutting the door behind him. I expect someone to come to my rescue, but it's like no one can hear me yell. Stumbling back against the bed, I turn around and find myself face to face with another man already in the room. They tower over me, flanking me on both sides, wearing an expression of hatred that I don't understand. I've never seen them before.
"Look, I don't know who you think I am, but you've got the wrong girl. I have no idea who you are or why I'm here." I say, and my words sound a lot calmer than I feel. Staring at the large men, I keep backing away until I’m on the other side of the bed.
“Volshebnitsya Skazki, sechasze otdavai Znaniye, ili mi ybiyo
m vseh.”
“Umm, what?” My brain pushes to comprehend the strange words as the man in front of me growls with every syllable. His eyes narrow and he exhales, almost like a dog, before trying again.
"You are Calista Faulkner," he says, his voice thick with an accent I can’t quite place. "You will tell where Znaniye hides or we kill everyone in this house."
It takes a second for the broken English words to register before I find the courage to reply. "Kill? Did you not hear a word I just said? You've got the wrong girl!" I'm shouting now, but I don't care if I sound like a lunatic. Someone has got to hear me.
"Do not bother yelling, Protector." The goon who dragged me in here speaks again, as if reading my mind. "Walls now sealed with majyk of land. No one hear you now."
I’ve always thought of myself as a logical person. I’ve always thought that presented with a situation where my life is in danger I will do the right thing. Those corners of my mind are trying to piece together what's happening, but the rest of my body is shaking in fear. It's as if I'm two people all of a sudden. One, fully focused on getting out of here, with a calm mind. Second, shaking like a leaf with no coherent thought. Thankfully, the logical me wins out.
