Fire Born Dragon (Rule 9 Academy Book 1)

by Elizabeth Rain

  He howled his rage as he dropped the child and gave me all the incentive I needed. In a blur, I aimed and squeezed the trigger. The bolt entered just below his sternum and dead center. A kill shot. I wasn’t messing around, already notching another bolt as I moved. Thomas and Sirris advanced beside me. The other two wolves recovered, thrusting their quarry aside and charging, mouths drawn back in snarls of rage. They were faster than I’d realized. The wolf to my right was on me almost before I could load the bolt, causing me to rush my shot and send it wide. I hit just left of center, only slowing him down. I was notching a third when he was there and I was forced to use the knife.

  His yellowish eyes stabbed at me with vicious intent as he leapt. But fear made me accurate, and I sliced upwards, using his momentum to sink the knife deep where the bolt should have been. He slid to the ground, and I yanked my knife free and looked up.

  I stared as the same wolf I’d just shot, alive and well and now advancing on Sirris, with nothing but her staff for protection. I gasped. I remembered my bolt delivering a lethal blow to the heart. It should have been long dead, not charging my BFF. I ignored Thomas, though he wasn’t faring well against the third, staying just beyond the wicked claws reaching for him. His Bolos were gone and all he had left was his knife.

  I notched another bolt and swung my bow up. A head shot then. That should do better. The wolf at my feet moved.

  I watched in horror as the first wolf reached out with a wicked swing of a claw tipped arm. I wasn’t ready yet! Sirris bowed backwards, avoiding the claws that swiped within a centimeter of her face. I watched as the staff she held arced with her in a graceful sweep that swung beneath and lifted the hairy legs of the wolf aloft. He landed on his back and with a musical cry of rage she brought the tip down dead center of his solar plexus. Blue smoke whirled the length of the staff and exploded in a circle of fire at the end. I heard first and smelled the sizzle of burning hair and meat. I gagged; sure I was going to lose my dinner right then.

  Right, so maybe not so helpless. I swung towards Thomas. The two were locked forearm to forearm in a test of strength Thomas couldn’t hope to win. As strong as he was, the other wolf was larger and older and more experienced. I took aim and then reconsidered, remembering the first wolf. My eyes glanced at the remnants of the fire they had taken such significant pains to snuff out. Without considering why, I thrust the bolt deep in the underbelly of the glowing coals. I stared hard at that orange heat and felt it pull at something inside me. I willed it to heat faster and at once the end burst into flames. The fire sank deep and turned the head into a pulsing glow. I lifted my bow and took dead aim of his head and let the bolt fly. Just left of his temple it hit with a dull, splitting thwack. It reminded me of target practice in the melon patch when I was twelve. The wolf twisted in mid-air and flopped on its back. Thomas moved in, knife slashing. We needed this one to stay down.

  I had no more time to consider it. I notched another bolt and thrust it deep into the embers.

  Before I could bring it round, the wolf at my feet, eyes on the glowing end of my bolt, had lurched up and away in a loping trot towards his companions. The wolf that had been on the business end of Sirris staff was recovering already. Between them they hoisted their companion between and staggered away up the trail. I hoped he was dead this time. I thought about taking a parting shot, but we needed to follow the campers, who had grabbed their young son and high tailed it down the hill as soon as they were able. Thomas moved in my direction, snagging his abandoned bolos along the way. Together we turned to Sirris and froze.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sirris stood where she had before, leaning on the staff, fingers bloodless and taut. Her pale skin had faded to alabaster as her eyes flashed to ours. Like a thin sapling cut at the knees, she crumpled.

  “I don’t feel so good,” she whispered, her fingers on her cheeks and her eyes glassy on mine as she tried to sit. Her fingers moved down her chin, over her shoulders and to her arms in a shivery sweep, gooseflesh chasing her hands. That’s when I noticed it. The thinnest of scratches ran down her left arm from shoulder to forearm where the wolf had raked her with his claws when she dived out of the way. It was superficial, hardly drawing blood. But the angry streaks of red and green radiating and spreading away from the welt at alarming speed were not. Poison. Those claws were poison.

  Sirris eyes closed, and she listed sideways into Thomas’ waiting arms. He shook her, panic making his voice high and frantic.

  “Sirris. Sirris, wake up! Don’t do this—”

  His eyes flashed to mine. “Kimmy. She’s a whiz with medical stuff. I think it poisoned her, I’m thinking she could help?”

  Sirris lips were moving, and I realized she was still conscious but only just. Thomas leaned closer to listen, her faint breath fanning his cheek.

  Thomas jerked, as if she’d startled him. Perhaps she had.

  “No Sirris, there has to be another way,” he pleaded. Sirris head lolled and her eyelids dusted her cheeks. She’d passed out. We didn’t have much time to discuss it if we wanted her to live.

  Thomas must have realized that at well as he stood up, lifting her as if she were nothing but a small child. He looked down the trail towards home, and that’s where I thought he would go. With a sigh, he turned in the opposite direction and went up, following the same path the wolves had taken.

  “What the hell are you doing Thomas, that’s not the way.” I shouted, alarmed as I followed.

  “It is if we want her to live,” he yelled back, voice grim and determined over his shoulder.

  I huffed to keep up with him as he moved up the trail at a speed that was astounding for someone so big. I was running full out to keep up and he was carrying one-hundred pounds of dead weight to boot.

  I gasped. “Thomas, we have to go down. If Kimmy can’t help, there are doctors in town. What if we run into those wolves again? We are in no shape to fight,” I huffed, heart beating out of control as I panicked and ran, struggling to keep up with him.

  Thomas spoke, but I had to strain to hear him and I realized that the run straight up the mountain was tearing at his own stamina as well. He was flagging too.

  “Magic poisoned her. We need magic to pull it out.”

  I was sure that’s what he said. I wanted to ask him what the hell he was talking about, but I had no more breath left to talk. All my energy went into just keeping up.

  Thomas turned a hard left onto an obscure trail I didn’t see, but he never slowed.

  I thought I heard him whisper to Sirris, her head tucked up under his chin. He ran faster. Close to a mile down the thin trail, branches slicing at my arms and roots pulling at my feet trying to trip me up, we emerged into a clearing.

  I stood on its edge and looked down. I blinked. I knew this lake. We were on the opposite side from before, but Deep Lake loomed large and silent before me. Night mists whirled in a smokey grey over the smooth surface.

  Thomas snaked left once more, moving along the side of the lake until he was on a small rocky stretch of beach.

  He looked at me then, Sirris hanging limp in his arms.

  He mouthed silent words I could just made out. Sorry.

  Crystal tears shone in his eyes, reflecting in the bright yellow orbs against what little light the moon cast. I realized his eyes were the same color as the wolves we’d battled.

  He turned and began wading with Sirris into the lake.

  “What are you doing, Thomas? She needs medical help, not a bath. Thomas, you gotta stop!” I gasped, still recovering from my sprint up the side of a mountain in the dark. He never answered, wading deeper until all but their heads and shoulders were covered. He turned and faced the shore. He stood looking at me for just a second. And then, they were just gone as he sank beneath the surface.

  I stood trembling and speechless, thoughts running through my head in a fast reel of disbelief.

  Sirris was dying and Thomas couldn’t live without her and so had decided to join was the crazy
crap my stressed-out mind came up with. I stood there, feeling like an idiot and helpless. What do I do now?

  My cheeks were damp, and I reached up to wipe the tears of frustration and grief away. What just happened?

  It seemed like I stood there forever, but it was less than a minute before Thomas surfaced. Alone.

  His eyes were wide and terrified as he treaded water and came to shore, shivering in the cool air of earliest dawn.

  “Where’s Sirris? Thomas! What the hell did you just do?” I shoved him, heaving him backwards across the sand.

  “Thomas, answers dammit. Oh my God, you drowned her!” I was out of control and I knew it, my mind trying to process what I saw.

  “No, Sadie, you don’t understand...” he started.

  He was right, I damned well didn’t understand. Not any of it.

  I was gearing up for a face punch of epic proportions as I considered beating my new friend when a fish jumped. An enormous fish. I turned back; my lips tight. I realized something was swimming towards shore. Great, now a bear. What else could go wrong?

  I turned and faced the water, my tired arms reaching for a bolt to load my bow when a silvery head of hair surfaced almost exactly where they had gone under moments before. I froze and blinked.

  Sirris came up with a gasp, water flying in all directions and running over her chin. She held her arms out and examined them, turning this way and that. She looked better. A thin pink line was all that remained. Her eyes shifted towards shore and I jumped. Those light grey orbs were brilliant silver, shimmering like diamonds by the light of the fading moon. They were nothing human I’d ever seen. I remembered Thomas’ last words to me before we reached the lake. Sirris swam in place, the water whirling around her. I caught flashes of color beneath the water.

  I looked at Thomas’ ravaged features. He should have been ecstatic.

  Sirris whispered, the words carrying over the empty surface of the lake. “It was the only way Thomas.”

  He shook his head. “My fault. If I hadn’t been trying to play God we wouldn’t have been out there. They would have killed us if Sadie hadn’t thought to use the fire.”

  “Oh, Thomas. If we hadn’t been there, the campers and that little boy wouldn’t have made it and no one would have suspected anything more than that a marauding bear had done it. We saved them,” she murmured.

  “What do we know? How is any of that going to help? We know they are crazy strong, that they are almost impossible to kill. That their claws can poison us,” he scoffed, not impressed.

  I looked at them both, my head spinning as the pieces clicked and fell into place.

  “They were werewolves, weren’t they?” Silence reined at my statement as they both turned to stare at me.

  I looked at Thomas and his weird eyes and thought of his uncanny speed up the mountain. Nobody I knew could have kept up with him. I chose not to examine the fact that I had, putting it down to a burst of adrenalin brought on by terror. I looked at Sirris, at home in the water—her love for it, almost like it was a need.

  “What are you Thomas, and you too Sirris? Am I losing my mind here because it kinda seems like it?”

  Sirris chose that moment to move towards shore, wringing her long light hair out, water cascading from her shoulders and arms. She stopped waist deep and glared at Thomas.

  “Oh, sorry.” He tossed something to her, and she caught it neat with a grin. I watched as she struggled to put her jeans on in the water. Thomas had had them in his hand, but I hadn’t noticed. I was so busy trying to process everything else, I’d ignored the details.

  You took her pants off Thomas, you freak, what was that about?

  “You’re right Sadie. Werewolves do exist. What happened out there was just a taste of what they’re capable of, I’m guessing.”

  Sirris glanced at Thomas. “You’re not right about one thing though, Thomas. We learned plenty tonight. Things the council won’t be happy about. We’ll be grounded for life. But Tuttle Council will need to consider those things—especially about the fire. I don’t know if that wolf was dead. But the fire did the most damage; kept it down.”

  I WAS STARTLED AWAY from my mind’s muddled wandering when several shadowy figures detached themselves from the shadowy woods and surrounded us. Tuttle Council didn’t need to be informed; they had arrived.

  Thomas’ father, the Major, stepped forward. I recognized his brother’s, Kimmy and several others that were strangers. All shared similar builds and coloring and all of them looked pissed and anxious.

  His brothers glared daggers at him. I figured they were just mad he’d left them behind.

  Thomas met his father’s gaze head on.

  “Keeping the council informed is a magnificent idea. But we can gather the facts on our own. We don’t need the three of you running off half-cocked and getting yourselves killed. That won’t solve this.” He looked at Sirris and I and we both squirmed.

  “You two aren’t getting out of this either. I’m informing both your parents. This has got to stop. You had no business doing what you did tonight. It was plain stupid.” The Major’s voice cracked at the end and I saw we’d scared him. At least we didn’t need to worry about telling anyone what had happened.

  THE MAJOR WAS GOOD on his word. The next afternoon I found myself on my hands and knees in the kitchen scrubbing the floor as part of a long list of chores spanning both sides of a sheet of notebook paper.

  I snuck a call that evening to Sirris. Daddy’s lab had never been cleaner, and she was just getting started. We’d heard nothing from Thomas and I suspected it might be awhile before either of us were invited back to dinner.

  A week was minor. But it seemed like forever.

  MY MOTHER WAS TRYING to kill me, I was sure of it. Three days in and I ran out of rooms to clean and chores to do. That’s when she came home with the paint. I found out I hated painting almost as much as I hated cleaning, almost.

  I’d been able to sneak a couple brief conversations with Sirris to know she was going through much of the same. Neither of us had spoken to Thomas, and that worried me. Had Tuttle Council taken him—us, seriously? Not knowing was driving me nuts.

  I wanted to know what had happened to the campers. In fact, there had been no reports of any campers being attacked at all. It was almost as if they didn’t exist. I hoped they had just been from out of town and eager to stay that way. Perhaps they’d blocked it out and had decided not to talk about it—fewer people to think they were crazy that way. I was sure conversation about a seven foot werewolf trying to eat you was a one-way ticket to the loony-bin, so I could hardly blame them if they were keeping it to themselves. I hoped they were somewhere safe, and that they were getting their little boy into counseling sooner rather than later. He’d looked too young to talk much which was a good thing. The entire family would need help to make sense of something that never would.

  I imagined all the best scenarios that had them making it out alive. I refused to think about the alternatives.

  But not knowing made me crazy. I was sixteen. I wasn’t a child anymore and didn’t like being treated like one. But other than Sirris, Thomas and his family, there was no one I could talk to about any of it. And who would have listened if I did? Werewolves? Be real.

  I’d tried to have a conversation with mom several times out of desperation. It was almost like she was afraid of what I might say. Every time I brought it up she changed the subject and exited left as fast as her feet and ears could take her. I swear, she almost acted like she knew I was going to tell her something she didn’t want to hear, which made no sense at all. It had been her choice for us to come here. Mom had been born and raised in Breathless, though she almost never talked about what it had been like for her to grow up here.

  School started in less than a week and I was dreading it with every fiber in my being. Breathless High was the last place I wanted to be. Especially since neither Sirris nor Thomas would be there. The thought of spending an entire year apart
from them with a bunch of kids I didn’t know and would hate made my stomach sour.

  Sirris had told me she and Thomas, along with all his sister’s and brother’s, were home schooled at his aunt’s in a cabin about a mile from his farm. I want to go there.

  It sounded a lot more interesting than a bunch of preps that could talk make-up, designer clothing, and football for hours on end. In a word I summed that up as—boring.

  I brought the idea up on my last day of being grounded when Mom and I sat down to dinner. Boiled dinner was not my favorite, and I pushed the limp cabbage and overcooked ham around on my plate. I looked at mom out of the corner of my eye as she ate, ignoring me. We had spent much of the past week avoiding each other. I knew that was what she was doing—because I was doing the same thing. We made double sure not to occupy the same rooms at the same time. Problem solved.

  When had we gotten to this point? Where we no longer seemed to communicate without anger or bitterness leading our words. I thought about what Sirris and Jerry had. Jerry might have been as absentminded a professor as I’d ever met, but he loved and respected his daughter and it was mutual. There’d been a time, before mom and dad split, when we’d enjoyed that kind of relationship. No more.

  Mom had become the queen of awkward conversations that seemed to lead to all our arguments. I had become an expert at pushing the buttons that encouraged them.

  I wondered what was wrong with me. Lately it seemed as if everything just pissed me off.

  With a sigh I sat my fork down with a clatter and folded my hands in my lap. “Mom, can we talk?”

  My mother looked up, a bite of cabbage half-way to her mouth. She finished the bite and put her fork down and nodded. Her eyes were wary.

  I had a sudden desire to chew on my new fingernails. I hadn’t had any worth mentioning in at least a couple years. With a shock I realized that I lost the habit since arriving in Breathless.