Menacing Misfits: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (Darkthorn Academy Book 1)

by Robyn Wideman

  “We’re here,” Tolliver said.

  Jack looked up. He hadn’t even noticed that they’d entered the cemetery. Sean and his family were standing with a priest. Jack frowned; he hadn’t even known Ramy was religious. “What religion did Ramy follow?”

  Tolliver looked at Jack and then at the priest. “I’m not sure if he truly followed any one religion. I know he believed in the gods, but his family were followers of Sultar, one of the sun gods. However, I’m not so sure Ramy was a follower. He married a witch, after all. I think he was rather open-minded about the gods and the spirit world. But I know he wanted to be buried here near his family. We discussed it when he revealed the extent of his illness.”

  Jack nodded. That was good enough for him. As long as this was what Ramy wanted, then Jack was fine with it. He walked over to where Sean and his family were standing.

  “My condolences, Jack. Ramy was a wonderful man. A pain in the ass but a good heart, he taught me everything I know about not just being a blacksmith, but a man as well,” Sean said.

  “Thank you,” Jack said. He looked around. “Where’s Ramy’s body?”

  “The acolytes are bringing it out now.”

  Jack looked towards the church. There were two acolytes walking towards them. Between them was Ramy’s body, wrapped in white gauze, being levitated. Both of the acolytes had one hand a foot underneath Ramy’s body. The corpse floated through the air as they walked to the gravesite.

  The two acolytes walked beside the grave until Ramy’s body was above it. The body started to slowly descend into the grave as the priest starting singing a mournful song. As Ramy’s gauze-wrapped body descended into the ground, Jack silently said his goodbyes to his only real friend in the world. The person who’d taken care of him his whole life.

  When Ramy’s body hit the bottom of the grave, the priest stopped singing. He walked up to the edge of the grave and spoke. “With the heat of Sultar, I send this man’s spirit to the sun god.” The priest waved his hand and Ramy’s body was engulfed in flames.

  Jack stepped back as the flames rose and the heat turned his face flush. He stood in silent reflection as the ceremony went on. Jack barely heard the words of the priest. When the acolytes used their magic to lift the dirt into the grave, Jack closed his eyes.

  “The ceremony is over; would you like to leave now?” Tolliver said.

  Jack opened his eyes. The priest and the acolytes were gone, Sean and his family were gone. He and Tolliver were the only ones left. “No. If it is alright with you, I’d like to be alone.”

  “Just across the road to the north is a café. I’m meeting Sean and his family there. We’ll wait for you. Take as much time as you need.”

  “Thank you.”

  Jack waited until Tolliver was gone. Then he started to speak. “Ramy, I don’t know if you can hear me or not, if your soul has gone to the sun god as the priest claims, or some other place, but I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’m going to miss you, but I want you to know I intend to honor my pledge. Even if it takes me years to get in, I will attend the Academy.”

  “Isn’t that sweet,” a voice said from behind Jack.

  “It sure is. Real touching stuff. Almost makes one forget that old bastard was a conniving shit who left his friends in a lurch.”

  Jack turned to face the men. It was two of the men who’d been with McGovern, Ramy’s killer. Jack frowned. “What are you doing here?”

  The one on the left grinned. “Why, we just came to pay our respects, didn’t we, Bob?”

  “Sure did,” Bob replied. He then stepped towards Ramy’s grave and spit on it. “May he burn in hell.”

  Jack snapped. He grabbed the man by the collar and landed a hard right to his temple. The man started to fall and Jack kept throwing punches.

  Then he felt something smash into the back of his head and everything turned black.

  “You alright, lad?” Tolliver said as he shook Jack.

  Jack opened his eyes. “What happened?”

  “You got into a fight.”

  Jack frowned. It came back to him in a rush. He looked around and spotted the two men. They were hanging out further up the cemetery talking to a third man. Jack rushed to his feet.

  Tolliver steadied him. “Easy, lad.”

  Jack pointed. “Those two are the ones who did it.”

  “I know,” Tolliver said. “I remember them from the blacksmith shop. But that doesn’t matter now. You need to remain calm.”

  Jack frowned. “Calm? They spit on Ramy’s grave and then hit me on the back of the head.”

  “I know. But see that third man they’re talking to. That is the constable. If you go attacking them with him standing there, things are going to go from bad to worse in a heartbeat.”

  Jack stopped trying to push past Tolliver. “Is he going to arrest them?”

  “Unlikely,” Tolliver said. “It seems I underestimated McGovern.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean there is no arrest warrant for McGovern or his two lackeys. Someone with some pull has made sure there were no charges in the attack on your grandfather. That means the constable is talking to them as if they are the victims.”

  “Victims? Victims of what?”

  Before Tolliver could answer, the constable came over.

  “Jack Vance, you are under arrest for assault.”

  9

  “Breakfast,” the guard said as he slid a plate under the bars of the cell.

  Jack had been in the cell for three days, and he knew exactly what breakfast was. Half-moldy bread and a heaping of carnub beans. The beans were sour tasting and had little nutritional value but grew in abundance around the prison. During the day, the prisoners picked the beans and prepped them for their meals. It was smart, Jack had to admit, having the prisoners foraging for their own food. It probably saved the warden money that went directly into his pocket. It certainly didn’t go into the upkeep of the prison. The only things in good repair here were the iron bars on his cell.

  Jack grabbed his plate; no matter how terrible the beans and bad bread were, they would have to suffice. The dinner meal was just as bad as the breakfast and the only other option was starvation.

  Harold, the toothless thief who occupied the cell next to Jack, chuckled as he watched Jack’s face twist and scrunch as he ate the sour beans. “Give it time, boy. Eventually you won’t even notice how sour they are.”

  “Is that a good thing?” Jack certainly hoped he wouldn’t be in the jail long enough to get used to the horrid food.

  “It is if you’re going to be here a while,” Harold said.

  Jack sighed. He had no idea how long he’d be in the prison. The fight hadn’t been his fault, but that hadn’t stopped the constable from arresting him. It wasn’t fair. The man who’d spit on the grave had been one of the men who’d attack Ramy. It should have been them in the jail, not Jack. Because McGovern had some high-powered connections, Jack was now in jail. Tolliver had been able to visit Jack the first day, but he’d had no good news. He suspected that the constable was being paid off and there wasn’t much he could do to get Jack out. There had been witnesses that saw Jack attacking the man. It hadn’t mattered that they spit on the grave or had murdered Ramy. Tolliver promised to do what he could, but he’d warned things would take time. He could be in jail a long time, depending on how much money someone had spent to get him there. Jack had known it was a bad idea to hit him. But he couldn’t control the impulse to smash him. Jack missed Ramy terribly and it hurt just to think about him being gone.

  After finishing his bread and beans, Jack slip the plate back under the bars and leaned back against the far wall of the cell. He lowered his head and stared at his feet. It would be another couple hours before the guards came and escorted them outside to pick beans.

  “Jack Vance?”

  “Yes,” Jack said without looking up. It was probably another of the sheriff’s goons looking to get him to
confess to attacking the rich kid.

  “Do you always look at your feet when someone is talking to you?”

  The voice was that of a woman and she sounded amused. Jack lifted his head.

  “That’s better, at least now I can see your face,” said the woman.

  Jack studied her. He couldn’t see her face because of the hood of her travel cloak covering it, but she sounded youngish. “I wish I could say the same.”

  The woman took her hood off. She had long dark hair with silver streaks pulled back into a braid. The thing that Jack noticed most was her eyes. They were large and a silvery blue, and had a twinkle to them that matched the slight smile on her lips that looked like it could turn into a smirk at any moment.

  The lady looked down at the plate at her feet. “I see they’re still feeding prisoners those awful carnub beans. If that isn’t an incentive to avoid a life of crime, I don’t know what is.”

  Jack wondered who she was. But he waited for her to speak.

  “I’m told you started a fight,” she said.

  “No, that isn’t what happened.” Jack had no desire to cause himself more trouble, but he wasn’t going to admit to doing anything wrong.

  “That’s a lie,” said the guard.

  The lady turned and stared at the guard. “Was I asking you?”

  The guard stepped back. “No, miss. I’m sorry.”

  Jack was surprised to see the guard back up like that. She wasn’t a big lady, but something about her made the guard nervous. She must be someone important.

  “Jack, why don’t you tell me what happened,” she said.

  “I was visiting my grandfather’s grave when these two men came along. They were part of the group that attacked my grandfather. One of them spit on his grave so I hit him. The other hit me in the back of the head. I was knocked out. When I woke, the constable arrested me.”

  “I see. Tell me, young Master Vance, do you think you were justified in your actions?”

  Jack thought for a moment it felt like he was being tested, and that a flippant answer might be the end of the conversation. Did he want that? The fact that she shut up the guard and that he was scared of her was intriguing. He didn’t sense any ill will from her. Perhaps he could afford a more honest answer with her. “I think my actions were justified in that I was pushed into an altercation. However, I am disappointed with myself allowing it to happen. Me fighting over my grandfather’s grave is the last thing he would’ve wanted, and by allowing my emotions to run unchecked I desecrated his grave in a far more personal way than those men ever could’ve. For that I feel only shame and regret.”

  “A well-thought-out answer,” the lady replied.

  Jack lifted his arms up and looked around him. “I’ve had nothing but time to reflect on that day.”

  “Tell me, Jack, if you were to get out of here, what would you do with yourself?”

  Jack stared at his feet for a moment before making eye contact. “I don’t know. I think I would like to be a tinker, but I fear that I will always be dealing with men like those in the graveyard. I’m not sure I have the temperament to deal with that yet.”

  “What did your grandfather want for you?”

  “Grandfather wanted me to learn about magic. I think he would prefer I became a blacksmith or a tinker, but the last thing he said to me was that he wanted me join an academy. He thought I would learn more about magic and self-control through an academy.”

  “And you don’t share his feelings on the matter?”

  Jack shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps I could learn more from an academy. But I couldn’t leave him alone, and besides, academies are for rich kids. I thought I’d wait a year or two while I took care of Ramy and then decide. Now it doesn’t matter.”

  “I commend you wanting to take care of your grandfather; however, you are mistaken about academies being just for rich kids. Don’t get me wrong, most of the students do come from wealthy families, but a portion are always taken on merit. There are several ways to join an academy.”

  Jack nodded. “Ramy said I was a legacy at Darkthorn Academy, and that I should apply there.”

  “Actually, your grandfather did send in your application.”

  “He did?”

  “My name is Michelle Cyr and I am a professor at Darkthorn Academy. If you agree to my terms, I’m willing to be your sponsor. Which means you would automatically be approved as a legacy scholarship student.”

  “Why would you do that? You don’t know me.”

  Michelle smiled. “No, but I knew your mother, and if you’re anything like her, you’d make a fine addition to the Academy.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. However, we can discuss that at a different time. This isn’t about your mother; it is about you. If you were accepted into the Academy you would face the same challenges as you would find as a tinker. Darkthorn Academy is not immune to the prejudices of those who believe race or social stature should dictate success. I would expect you to be on your best behavior.”

  “I could do that,” Jack said.

  Michelle raised a finger. “Secondly, scholarship students are required to pass a series of exams during the year based on your studies. Failure to achieve success at any of the year’s final exams could mean the end of your time at the Academy. As a scholarship student, failure isn’t an option. While the rich kids might be able to float by on their parent’s money, you would have no such luxury.”

  “I’m not afraid of hard work,” Jack said.

  “Thirdly, while you might not be afraid of hard work, it will take more than a willingness to apply yourself to achieve success at Darkthorn. Most of the scholarship students that have applied to the school have been doing some sort of training for years. You would be at a distinct disadvantage. I would require you to take extra lessons to bring you up to speed. Don’t take lightly the commitment you’d be making if you decided to join me.”

  “Lady, I’ve been giving it nothing but thought the last few days, and it doesn’t matter how hard you say this school is going to be, it can’t be worse than this.”

  “I’m not so sure about that, but the food certainly would be better.”

  Jack looked around the prison cell. “I don’t know when I’m going to get out of here, and then I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay out before they throw me back in for fighting again. Going to your fancy school is what Ramy wanted for me. I’ve run out of excuses for not going. If you say I can go with you, I’m agoing.”

  Michelle smiled and turned to the prison guard. “You heard the young man. He’s agoing. Let him out.”

  “Yes, miss,” the guard said, walking to the cell and unlocking it. As Jack walked by him, the guard whispered in his ear, “Be seeing you again, boy. Your kind always find a way to fail.”

  Jack turned and looked him in the eyes. “Don’t count on it.”

  …

  As they walked outside of the prison, Jack looked at the carriage. It was a dark red with black and gold trim that had six black horses with matching hardware. The carriage driver was also wearing an outfit that matched the carriage colors. It was an impressive carriage and gave an aura of wealth and power. On the side of the carriage, on the door, was a circle with a dragon head, the emblem of Darkthorn Academy.

  Professor Cyr opened the carriage door and looked at Jack. “Well, are you going to stand there all day gawking? Or perhaps you want to go back to the prison?”

  Jack jumped into the carriage. There was no way he wanted to stay at the prison any longer. With luck, he’d never see that awful place again.

  Once they started moving, Professor Cyr pulled out a basket and handed it to Jack. “Here. Once I learned where you were located, I made sure to bring some proper food.”

  Jack opened the basket and was delighted to find an assortment of meats, cheeses and fruits along with a half-loaf of bread. He closed his eyes and put his nose in the basket, taking a deep breath. A few days of prison food had him apprec
iating the food at a level he’d never known before. His mouth started to water as he picked out a handful of grapes and popped them into his mouth.

  As Jack ate, Professor Cyr sat back and smiled.

  Jack ate until he was full, and then he ate a little more, just to be sure. When he was done, he wiped his hands on a cloth napkin that had been in the basket. “That was fantastic. Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome. Now let’s talk a little. First thing, I talked to a man named Tolliver who worked for your grandfather. He has your authority to look after you finances and interests in Sunder?”

  Jack nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good. The fewer outside distractions you have, the better.” Professor Cyr then handed him a whetstone. “Tolliver said that you hadn’t much in the way of worldly possessions, but he wanted to make sure you got this.”

  Jack accepted the whetstone. It was Ramy’s magical whetstone. He smiled. “This was Ramy’s.”

  “Yes. Was there anything else you needed from your grandfather’s estate?”

  If Tolliver was taking care of things, Jack was confident that he had nothing to worry about when it came to the estate and things like the horses. Was there anything else he needed? “I don’t have any clothes.”

  “That is easily taken care of at the Academy.”

  “Then there is nothing else.”

  “There was one last bit of business Tolliver mentioned. The sale of the blacksmith shop… Did you come to a decision?”

  Jack nodded. “Can you tell Tolliver to sell to Sean?” Sean Harcus was a good man, and the business meant far more to him and his family than it did to Jack.

  “Not a problem. Anything else?”

  “Just tell him to take good care of the horses and that someday I’ll be back.”

  Professor Cyr nodded.

  Jack was ready to start the next chapter of his life. Without Ramy, he was alone in the world. The Academy was as good a place as any to start his new life, and it certainly was better than the hellhole of a prison she’d just pulled him from. Jack clutched the whetstone close. He gave silent thanks to Tolliver for making sure he got it.