Spearwood Book One

by A. S. Oren

  My heart flutters, he made a Harry Potter reference. I shrug. “I can’t tell through all the blood on his face.”

  He points. “And that guy with the hipster glasses is Derren Bullock, an outcast’s child.”

  “No comparison for him? I didn’t know Outcast’s had children who are dragon shifters. I thought their parents were stripped of their powers when they become Outcasts.”

  He shrugs. “Sometime an ounce of magic slips through, I guess. And, I guess Dexter Morgan meets George from Dead Like Me.”

  He’d fit right in with our basement binges. “George is a girl though.”

  “Same personality, he looks like he could be Dexter’s kid, though.”

  He does with the blood dripping down the side of his face and from his lip.

  The Bullock guy screams first. With outstretched arms, he brings them forward and claps. A small tornado barrels toward Mirren, who flies off his feet and lands a few meters away, skidding along the ground. I wince; that’s going to be a nasty scrape on his back. Panic eases into my chest. Why in the world do I care if he’s all right or not?

  Getting to his feet, he stands steady, as if nothing just happened. He arms shift into their dragon forms, bright-orange scales with scarlet-red claws. In Edgar’s camp, I saw plenty of guys shift with no problem or pain. Jealousy rears its ugly head every time I watch it happen.

  Flames shoot up along the shifted parts of his arms, and he runs at Bullock, like a bull that can only see the red flag. Hitting him square in the chest, Bullock tumbles through the air. My heartbeat quickens. I touch my chest, what the hell is going on? I don’t know these people; I shouldn’t care about them.

  Paden leans over Dante’s shoulder. “What year are they?”

  “Our year, freshmen.”

  Bullock struggles to get onto his hands and knees as Mirren stands over him. His fist is poised to hit him in the head and crush his skull. The panic rises to my throat. I can’t let this happen. I can’t let either of them get hurt.

  I run out from the safety of the crowd “Don’t! Stop it.” What am I doing?

  “Avalon! What the fuck?” Paden calls.

  “No.” I hold up my hand, a barrier of fire causes the group to back up. I know Paden won’t try to cross it.

  Mirren stops from ramming his fist through Bullock’s skull. He stands and faces my direction. Bullock stares at me from the ground, through cracked glasses.

  “Well, if it ain’t the princess everyone has been talkin’ about. The true, fuckin’ female.” He advances toward me. I hold my ground; I’m not afraid of him.

  “If you say so. Now, why don’t you knock this off, both of you, and go your separate ways? You’re disrupting my stroll in the garden.” Sure I made up the last part, but hell, this shit needs to stop.

  He circles me now. His arms still shifted. “Oh, I’m sorry, Princess. I’ll beat the shit out of this Outcast more quietly next time, okay?” He runs a claw along the chains of my necklaces, pulling them out from underneath my shirt. A small shock hits me where his claw grazes my skin. Fuck it all. This twat will not be part of my Fold.

  “Did your lovers give these to you, Princess? They’ve got really poor taste, I must say.”

  I bat his hand away. “Don’t touch my things, you prick.”

  His eyes narrow. “What did you call me?”

  “A prick. I could use the terms fuck face and bastard, if you prefer?”

  His shifted fists clench, and his weight falls back on the balls of his feet. He wants to pick a fight with me, so be it. “You have no idea who you’re speaking to, do you, Princess?”

  I ease my weight back, so I can move faster if he decides to strike. “You look like a lot of the golden spoon fed fucktards that came through Edgar’s camp. Their parents shoved money at him because their sons didn’t know how to take their heads out of their own asses and needed some help prying them out. But, since I don’t remember you there, you must’ve had private tutors, right? How else would you know how to fight while blinded by your own ass?”

  I dodge as his fist comes at my face. I crouch low and side swipe his legs with my own. He doesn’t fall though, just stumbles.

  He laughs. “Is that all you got, Princess?”

  “Avalon, lower this barrier right now!” Paden yells over the rush of blood coursing through my ears.

  “Sorry, can’t do that!” I shift my tail, ruining my jeans. My spine will pay me back for that when the adrenaline leaves. I stand and spin, sending one of the three spiked bones at the end of my tail into his thigh.

  His scream echoes off the mountain. He falls to his knees as I release the spike from my body. He’ll live if I leave it in him. I can grow another one in a few days.

  “You may know how to shift your arms, fucktard, but I know more than you will learn for a very long time. Sucks just coming into your shifting powers, doesn’t it?”

  He growls at me and stands. I arch an eyebrow. “You don’t know when to quit, do you? Just stop. Your body’s at its limit.”

  In one swift motion he reaches out and snatches my necklaces, breaking the chains.

  I narrow my eyes.

  “Dude, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll give those back to her. You haven’t seen her mad yet!” Jericho calls.

  Heat rises in my chest. I close my eyes and try to supress the impulsive anger that always gets me into trouble. I hold my hand out to him. “Please give those back, and I won’t make you regret this day for the rest of your life.”

  He raises his fist into the air and brings it down, letting go of the necklaces. I dive for the glass locket; the ring will be fine. Skidding across the red-cobblestone, I hold out my hand, the locket bounces against my fingers as it crashes into the stone, shattering into a hundred pieces. My heart stops. That was Edgar’s parents’ marriage locket. He entrusted it to me because he sees me as the daughter he never had.

  I turn my gaze onto him, his eyes widen, and he takes a step back. Oh, he better run. The destiny fates will have to give up on the thought of him ever being welcome in my Fold. It will never happen now.

  I stand. The blue skies above us darken as big, black clouds roll in, sending rain down onto the land, banishing the good weather glamour. Thunder and lightning battle for space within the sky.

  The wind barrels through the courtyard, hitting Mirren in the chest and knocking him down. He struggles, but he can’t get back up. Bullock scrambles to his feet. I lower the fire barrier as he moves into the crowd. I stare at Bullock. “I have no qualm with you.”

  Rage tumbles inside me, overwhelming my senses.

  A hand grabs my arm. I glance at Paden. “Avalon, calm down. You know how you can get when you let the anger take you over.”

  “I won’t kill him. He needs to learn, he’s not superior to anyone.”

  His nails threaten to cut into my arm. “I’ve never seen you this mad. Please, let’s just walk away before the sun starts to set.”

  I pry his hand off my arm. “I know when the sun sets. I have a built in timer. You’re not going to stop me, so please don’t try.”

  The fire wall builds up between us, despite the down pour, forcing him back into the crowd with the others.

  Mirren continues to fight the air as it pins him. “How are you doing this? You can’t have more than one element.”

  I stare down at him. “I don’t know. No one has ever pissed me off this bad. You broke something I cherish. The man I consider a father gave me that. It’s impossible to repair. Glass doesn’t bend to the will of magic!” Thunder cracks above us, rumbling the ground. My hair hangs in long wet tendrils. The soaked material of my purple shirt sticks to my skin. I move to straddle his torso, my dragon tail wraps around his legs.

  Rain pelts his face, washing away the blood. His silver eyes glare up at me. “Kill me already, get it over with!”

  I laugh and trace the contours of his square jawline. The shock from touching him pisses me off more. “Oh, I’m not going to k
ill you. I’m just going to make sure you remember your actions have consequences. Some of them will even haunt you.” I grab the spike in his thigh and pull it out. He screams, his legs thrash against the bind of my tail.

  “Shhh…” I place a finger over his lips. “I’ll take away your pain, don’t worry.” I touch his forehead, recalling from the book Mom gave me, how to heal with my angel powers. I have to want to heal him with my soul. White light envelops his body. A cold radiates from my back, revealing my Angel wings to the crowd. I extend them outward before folding them back. Such a strange sensation, nothing like my dragon wings.

  The light fades away, revealing his unblemished skin. He stares at me with wide eyes. I smirk. “As good as new, aren’t you?” I hold his chin, so he can’t look away. “Origato ve ocuir svabol wux itov throdenilti.” Turns out it was beneficial to learn dragon ongue and magic, even though Edgar didn’t want me using it for this. Through a black tunnel, I travel into his mind, going straight for what he loves over all.

  Countless mirrors appear, with him staring into all of them, grinning at his own reflection as he flexes his muscles. Vanity, the weakness of many. This is what he loves over all else, himself? I exit his mind. He gasps. “Wow, your love for yourself is overwhelming.”

  I flick out my golden claws. It’s taken years to make it happen fast, but it still hurts like hell. I raise them into the air. “Nomag nomenoi scars xurwk wux desta!” I bring my hand down across his face, leaving behind four long slashes that travel from his left ear to just over his lower lip. His skin cuts like soft butter. It takes him and his body a second to realize what I’ve done. Scarlet life force seeps sluggishly from the cuts, and he stares at me with a gaping mouth before he screams again. Smirking down at him, I run my hand over his face and heal the wound, leaving behind four thick, red scars.

  “Learn from this, and one day, I may heal them for you.” He will have to prove he is no longer a pompous brute who picks on people because of their status. “But you’re cursed by me, so no healer in this world or in the Norm world can help you.” I stand and release him from the hold. I lower the barrier of fire. The rain continues to pour.

  He stands, feeling his face and the thick scars there. I’m tired, but I won’t hesitate to defend myself. We stare at each other for a long while. His silver orbs analysing every inch of my body and face.

  Another clap of thunder rolls overhead. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat before he turns on his heel and walks in the opposite direction, the crowd parts for him like the Red Sea.

  Perlow and Rosemen stand at the front of the crowd. Not a speck of rain messes with their model exteriors. I stare at them. Was this something that would get me in trouble? I haven’t read the rulebook yet. I don’t know if I ever will.

  Perlow nods to me, before they both leave as well.

  I let out a sigh as my body gives out, and I fall to my knees. Hitting the hard ground doesn’t even faze me with the pain I’m in right now. The guys circle around me, each touching my shoulder or back. Maverick sits to my left. “Are you okay, Lon? That was awesome, but are you okay?”

  I nod. “Tired is all.”

  Jericho motions around us. “How did you do this? I mean, you’re fire, you can’t call the rain.”

  Dante nods. “Or the way she pinned Mirren down with the air.” He grins at me. “You’ve got a real fire burning in you, don’t you? Tu’es incroyable.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know how I did any of that. I knew of the curse, and the words, but I’ve never used it. I don’t know why it worked for me.”

  I stare up at the clouds that now recede from the mountain, the sun shines through again, heating up the land. Were the clouds and the air my doing, or did someone else help me? I don’t remember if I felt power being used or not. The whole scene, even though it was just a few moments ago, blurs in my brain. Was I so filled with rage that it blinded me from everything?

  Paden pushes my wet hair out of my face and holds a hand to my forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay, Lon? I think we should take you to the infirmary.”

  With some effort, I stand. “Really, I’m fine. Just tired.” I glance over my shoulder at my butt, as my tail shrinks back into my spine. “And in need of new jeans. Damn, I liked these ones. They have skulls for buttons.”

  Dante takes off his dark-blue blazer and wraps it around my waist, tying the arms in a knot. I touch my cheek as it heats up. “Thank you. I must’ve made one hell of a first impression.”

  He laughs. “What you did was fucking awesome. That dill hole needed to be taken down a peg or two. Maybe he’ll stop picking fights all the time now.”

  I look beyond them to where the necklaces lay in a puddle. I go to them and pick up the one with the ring first. I crouch and gently pick up the blue scale and the tiny, daisy head. I’ll find a new home for them. There’s no way I can repair the glass they were encased in. I cup my other hand over them. For now, I’ll put them on one of the shelves in my room.

  Amr pats me on the shoulder. “We’ll find a way to fix it.”

  I nod. “Let’s go back to the dorms, so we can all change. I wonder if our stuff has arrived yet. I don’t want to wear one of those skirts unless I have to.”

  Maverick laughs and throws an arm around my shoulders. “Well, you better get used to it. You have to wear the uniform.”

  We walk back into the school. “Fine. Trade me. I’ll wear the boys uniform, and you can wear mine.”

  “Tempting, but no.”

  As we pass people in the dining hall, full of its cream and gold tones and portraits of past Headmasters, students point and whisper. I suppose I shouldn’t expect anything less after the spectacle I put on.

  Maverick picks up the pace, making it through the doors leading out of the dining hall. Now we just need to make it to the dorms. How much harder did I just make my time here?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Two weeks later…

  Cold beneath my bare back wakes me up. What the hell? I open my eyes and peer around; snow covers the ground for miles around. I didn’t change outside last night.

  I sit up, naked as the day I was born. Of course they would do a survival challenge on the one night I decide not to wear my school uniform to shift in. The material it’s made out of allows for me to shift and have it not get destroyed. It just melds into my scales until I shift back and it covers me again.

  I knew things had been too easy the last couple of weeks. Except for the occasional fight, it wasn’t anywhere near as cut-throat as Edgar made it sound. I thought maybe things had changed since he was here, that would’ve been in like 1972; the world was different at that time.

  I stand and turn around. Mirren stands a few feet from me. His silver eyes leer at my body. “Nice breasts, Princess.”

  Fuck. Is he part of my team or someone I need to defend myself against? With him, it could be both.

  “Here, Ava.” I turn around. Jericho holds out his over-sized sleeping shirt to me. Only his sleeper pants cover him now.

  Before I can reach out for the shirt, a warm material touches my back. I glance over my shoulder as Dante puts a red hoodie on my shoulders. “Take my jacket, Fire. I always sleep in one in case this happens. It’s lucky we got put in the same group together.”

  I smile and stick my hands through the sleeves. He’s been hanging around and calling me Fire since the first day we all met him, but I haven’t found the courage to tell him he’s part of my Fold or try anything with him, mostly out of respect for Jericho. I want him to be comfortable with the idea of Dante joining our circle like that, before I try anything. Paden and Maverick don’t appear to care. They’ve said they’re happy if I am.

  Jericho has said that too, but I can see in his eyes that he’s not. He’s jealous because Dante’s been chosen and he hasn’t. I’ve told him I don’t care, that I want him by my side, but it doesn’t comfort him.

  I glance at him as he puts his shirt back on. At least now he’ll stay warm. H
e’s frowning again. I sigh. Why can’t this be an easy transition for everyone?

  Another boy stands off to the left of us. I stare at him for a long second before it triggers in my brain who he is. Bullock, the kid Mirren was fighting with, one of the reasons I gave him those scars.

  Mirren rubs a hand over his face. His fingers linger on the four thick scars. “Well, this day just took a fucked up turn. Do they want us to kill each other?”

  I zip up the hoodie, the hem falls just below my butt. I stick my hands in the pockets. “That would defeat the point. If we kill each other, then there’s no point in us sticking together. We have to stick together. Who knows if other people will come after us? Edgar said survival challenges can be bloody, more than a few kids died back in his day.”

  Jericho sighs and comes to stand next to me. “What are we supposed to do? Just stand here in the snow? Aren’t we supposed to have an objective of some kind?”

  Bullock points up at the sky. “That might have your answer.”

  We all look up at once. A scroll floats down from the sky, coming right at me. I hold up my hand and take it. Gold makes up the entire thing, gold leaf paper and gold sides. A symbol of a dragon in the shape of an S indents the wax seal. I break it and pull up the paper.

  “Team A, you must obtain a key from the mountain with the highest peak, follow the sun to the east. Trials will await you. You have until sun down tomorrow to make it back to Spearwood. May the Sun god shine down on your souls.” I sigh as I finish reading it to them.

  The scroll shakes and disintegrates in my hands, floating away on the wind. I frown. What a waste of money.

  I sigh and stare at both Bullock and Mirren. “Well, there you go. We now know what we have to do. Are we going to stick together, or are you two going to make this difficult?”

  Bullock readjusts his black-framed hipster glasses. “I won’t do anything if he won’t.”

  Mirren clenches his fists. “I don’t have any plans of goin’ it alone. Loners die in these things.”