“Of course, my lord.” The man bowed his head again.
“Breeders give birth to Breeders, not wizards,” Lord Dragunov said. “I don’t know what game they’re playing, but I will find out, and once I do, I will have that boy’s head along with the House of Lords.”
The man in the cloak said nothing but simply bowed his head again, waiting for instructions that he knew would be forthcoming. It was a moment before Lord Dragunov spoke, and when he did his voice was measured, lacking the anger of earlier.
“Have the Breeder shadowed,” he said. “I want to see everything he sees, know everything he knows. Have the boy shadowed,” he repeated, “and have it done by nightfall.”
“Of course, my lord,” the man said.
“Wizards born to Breeders,” Lord Dragunov laughed mirthlessly. “The mere suggestion even is outrageous.”
The man did not comment, but remained with his head lowered. Time passed before Lord Dragunov spoke again. “You may go.”
The man stood up and bowed again before he turned to leave. He was at the door when Lord Dragunov looked up at him.
“Marcus,” he called.
“Yes, my lord?”
“My son goes to that school. Have him beat the Breeder first,” he said. “It will do him some good.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“And make sure the shadowing hurts.”
“It almost always does, my lord,” Marcus said.
Cindy pulled her finger out of the water. She hadn’t expected to see so much so soon. Lord Dragunov wanted Tom shadowed by nightfall. It wouldn’t be long before the sun set. She grabbed her staff and rushed out.
She didn’t live far from the school and it wasn’t long before she was in the forest that surrounded the tree house. She could see Tom lying on the ground by the foot of the tree trunk. Four figures hounded over him. She was about to step out when they turned and started to walk up the hill.
Was she too late? Had he already been shadowed? Was that why he was lying on the ground, squirming? The shadowing spell was only difficult to cast if you wanted the pain to be minimal. It was incredibly easy if you didn’t mind the shadowed to feel like their body was being torn apart.
The way Tom’s body twisted and writhed there could be no other explanation. She was too late. He had already been shadowed. She wanted to go to him, to comfort him, but she couldn’t show her face now. They would see her.
Cindy remained behind the trees. There was nothing she could do for him.
Chapter 11
Tom stayed cooped up in the tree house the next day. He couldn’t go to class looking like this. His face was badly bruised and his nose was probably broken. He had feared Madam Stewart would appear at some point to drag him out, march him to class and parade him in front of everyone.
But she didn’t.
No-one did.
Tom was used to being ignored on the Other Side. But when he came home he still had his family. Here, as they left him on the ground, beaten and battered, he had never felt so lonely.
He might have stayed there on the ground all night if it hadn’t started to rain. He had climbed up the tree trunk and collapsed on the front porch. He woke in the morning to find a bird perched on his forehead pecking him on the nose.
It was a beautiful red bird. But he hadn’t cared then. He didn’t want it sitting on his face pecking him. He had shooed it away grumpily.
His nose hurt so much he was sure it was broken. Tom didn’t remember being punched there. Maybe it was the stupid bird that did it. It was a silly thought, he knew, but he was hungry, tired, and he hurt everywhere.
“Tom?”
He jumped up, startled. Someone had come looking for him. Was it Madam Stewart? Why had she come now? Tom got up and stood by the door. He could hear whoever it was climbing up. A moment later, a patch of curly black hair appeared on the front porch.
It was Saafir.
“What are you doing here?”
“You really do live in a tree house,” Saafir grinned before he looked up at Tom. “What happened to you face?”
“Nothing,” Tom said and he moved away from the door. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” he lied. He didn’t plan on attending classes tomorrow, but he did want rid of Saafir.
“What happened to your face?”
“Nothing,” Tom said sullenly as he sat on his bed.
Saafir stepped into the house and stood in front of him, staring, gawking. “What happened to your face?”
“Nothing.” Tom stared at the ground.
“What happened to your face?”
“I tripped and fell.”
“Did you trip and fall out of the tree?” Saafir asked. “And then get punched in the face by it? And then kicked?” He paused. “And then some?”
Tom glared up at him.
Saafir shrugged. “Your face doesn’t look very good.”
He knew what his face looked like. It was one of the reasons he had stayed in the tree house, so he wouldn’t have to meet other people and be told what his face looked like.
“It was the Le Fays, wasn’t it?”
“Le Fays?” He had heard that name before.
“Le Fays,” Saafir repeated. “Big on the whole conquering the world, enslaving the Wanderers thing,” he added.
He remembered now. Morgan Le Fay. She had fought that war against Merlin... War of the Wanderers was it? But Merlin killed her, threw her head onto the battlefield. She was dead. She was dead, wasn’t she?
“...What...” Tom shook his head, wondering if what he was seeing really was happening. “What are you doing?”
Saafir had turned the wooden chest upside-down, climbed on top of it, and was now jumping on it.
“The Magical Development book, it's stuck to the bottom.”
Saafir stepped off the chest, turned it over again, opened it and after a little struggle, pulled out a large, dusty-looking book. He was right. The Magical Development book had been stuck to the bottom of the chest.
“Umm... thanks,” Tom said. He shook his head again. What had they been talking about? “Morgan Le Fay,” he remembered. “Isn’t she dead?”
Saafir sat down on the sofa before he replied. “Oh she is,” he said. “But her followers aren’t. They call themselves Le Fays. Father said this would happen.”
“What would happen?”
“That.” Saafir pointed at Tom’s face. “He said it was a bad idea bringing you here. They don’t even know what you are. It’s reckless.”
“Reckless?”
Saafir nodded. “Father thinks we should have left you on the Other Side, but the Le Fays said you couldn’t come here, so the lords decided you had to. They think you’ll be safe in the Land of the Free, but Father isn’t so sure. It only takes one crazy Le Fay to kill you.”
“Kill me?” Tom repeated and Saafir opened his mouth to reply but Tom held his hand up. “Wait, WHAT?” Why did they want to kill him? How had they started talking about his death, and so casually too?
“What?”
“Why do they want to kill me?”
“They’re Le Fays. They do things like that.” Saafir shrugged before adding, “You’re from the Other Side. Your parents are Wanderers. They’re already angry you took their lands. And now you’re here-”
“Took their lands?” Tom interrupted. “Whose lands did I take? And what lands?”
“The United Kingdom, I think you call it?”
“What? How is that-” Tom stopped as he remembered the video projector thing the headmaster had shown him. It had been wizard land. The Wanderers came from the sea as settlers. But that was so long ago... “They’re still angry about that?”
“They want it back,” Saafir said. “And Father reckons it’s only a matter of time before they take it.”
“But... but millions of Wanderers are living there now,” Tom said. Wanderers that didn’t even know it was wizard land.
“It wasn’t always like this,” Saafir said.
Tom stopped listening as his mind began to race. He stood up and paced around the room. He had to get out of here. And once he was out, he needed to warn everyone on the Other Side about the Le Fays.
“The Zarlocks were around then.”
Tom stopped pacing and stared at Saafir. What was he talking about? And where had he heard that name before?
“The Zarlocks?”
Saafir nodded unhelpfully and a moment passed before he realised Tom didn’t know who they were.
“They’re only the oldest, most powerful wizard family ever,” Saafir said. “They liked Wanderers.”
That was the best news Tom had heard so far. “Where did they go?”
“They died.”
He realised it was a little bit selfish, but them being dead wasn’t so good for him. He actually had heard of them, he remembered now. Merlin was a Zarlock. He had fought Morgan in The Clash of Two Houses or something or other.
Tom walked over to his suitcase to pack. He had to get out of here. Standing over it, he realised he hadn’t actually unpacked yet. It was good, that. He was ready to go home.
“What are you doing?”
“Going home,” Tom murmured.
“They won’t let you.”
“Why?”
They wouldn’t keep him against his will, would they? Tom wondered again why he had come to this place, knowing so little about it. Cindy. It was because of her. She had a way with words, knew just the right things to say.
“The Le Fays don’t want you here. If the lords let you go, they’ll lose face,” Saafir said. “And you know about Atlantis now. That’s supposed to be a secret,” he added.
It was the last sentence that really freaked Tom out. Because he knew of Atlantis, did that mean they would never let him go back? He was never going to see his family again? His parents were told he would be back after a year. They would call the police if he didn’t show.
But what could the police do? He was in Atlantis, a massive island somehow hidden from the rest of the world. The police would never find him. He would never see his family again. He was going to die here.
“Will you be attending classes tomorrow?”
There was something wrong with Saafir, Tom thought. The way he spoke, he was just too casual about everything. You would have thought they were talking about the weather or something equally mundane.
Tom was not going to class tomorrow, or ever. He was going to get out of here, away from these crazy murderous people. He began to pace the room again, looking for something, anything.
Portals – did they have portals? If he could find one that led to the Other Side... Portals? What a stupid idea. Maybe he should stop pacing. It clearly wasn’t helping his thinking. Tom stopped in his tracks and stood still for a minute. It was too quiet. He started to pace again.
“Are you going to run away?”
Tom looked at Saafir, surprised that he was still there. But then, he hadn’t seen him leave, so he shouldn’t have been surprised. Was he going crazy? Run away – that was an idea. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
“You’re safer in school.”
“Have you seen my face?” Tom asked incredulously.
“At least you still have a face.”
That was true. He did still have a face. He didn’t know what was out there, but he did know what was in here, and so far it had only been a few children attacking him. So far... It was only his second day...
Tom sat down on the bed, feeling deflated. He had had such high hopes before he came to this place. He was going to a school full of people like him. He was going to fit in.
“What am I supposed to do?” he asked out loud.
“Attend classes, keep a low profile, stay out of trouble,” Saafir said. “And that means turning up on time, in uniform, with the right books,” he grinned.
A small smile appeared on Tom’s face. It was quite funny if you thought about it, turning up to class the way he had done.
“So,” Saafir said, staring at his bruises again. “What really happened to your face?”
Tom told him what happened, how they had been waiting for him at the bottom of the tree house. There were three of them there. It didn’t take long for him to figure out they wanted to fight. And he had been ready to fight back, except, another had crept from behind.
“He had this big thick metal rod in his hand,” Tom said.
“A staff,” Saafir said.
“Fredrick kicked me while I was on the ground. Said I should call him Lord Dragu-” he stopped.
“Dragunov,” Saafir said and Tom nodded. “He’s not a lord,” Saafir scoffed, before adding quietly, “his father is.”
“What are lords?”
Tom wondered if he should have phrased the question better. He knew what a lord was. They had those on the Other Side. They were meaningless titles self-important people liked to inform others that they held – or something along those lines, his dad had said.
It was a little different here.
Lords ruled the lands as their own. There were currently thirteen lords. Between them, they chose three Law Lords to sit in the House of Lords to decide upon all matters that concerned Atlantis and the land of the wizards.
The House of Lords, along with the School of Merlin, was in the Land of the Free. No lord ruled over it. It was neutral territory established by the Zarlocks over a thousand years ago and inhabited by merchants, traders, farmers, and anyone else who had been able to buy their freedom.
It sounded very medieval to Tom. His first thought again was of running away before something really bad happened to him. Something worse than being beaten by arrogant sons of lords and caned by teachers...
“I need to find a uniform,” Tom said glumly.
“Have you checked the wardrobe?”
“...No.”
Tom opened the wardrobe and as he did, flames rose from the torch that hung on the wall. He thought that a bit silly, the wardrobe being the switch. His uniforms were in there though, hanging down neatly with cloak over shirt and trouser, row after row.
As he closed the door, the flames did not extinguish as he had expected, and it was awhile before he realised Saafir had lit them with a wave of his hand. Tom wished it had been the wardrobe – even if it were stupid, at least he would have been able to do it.
“They’re going to stop serving supper soon,” Saafir said as he stood up. “Coming?”
Tom hesitated for a moment before deciding to go. He had already missed breakfast and lunch. He was hungry. They rushed up the hill and arrived at the main hall just in time. Madam Sue was beginning to put things away.
It was as they finished and were about to head their separate ways when Tom asked, “What’s a breeder?”
“Where did you hear that word?
“Fredrick.”
“It’s what the Le Fays call Wanderers because they,” Saafir paused, “have lots of babies,” he finished.
“Oh.”
It wasn’t a very nice name. It reminded him of a documentary he had watched on animals and their breeding seasons. As Tom climbed into bed that night, he wondered what would happen if the Le Fays did break out of Atlantis.
Chapter 12
A month later Tom sat in class, alone, hungry and hurting. He’d had the dream again. It was the fourth time now. And each time he woke up feeling like his body had been shredded.
It had been just over a month since he turned up to class late, not in uniform and without book. The day after, he hadn’t turned up at all. On his third day, Madam Stewart hadn’t asked why he had missed class, or why his face was bruised. She hadn’t said anything.
A month since and Tom had managed to stay out of trouble and keep a low profile – as much as it was possible. Everyone still stared at him when they weren’t doing anything else. They still talked about him as he passed them in the corridors.
He rubbed his eyes to rid the sleep as the class began to fill. The twins, Gemma and Jenna, were in first. Saaf
ir was the last to arrive before Madam Stewart. Fredrick turned up after her.
It was an old man, the person in his dreams. An old man walking towards something he was frightened of. Why would he do that? Why would anyone do that? Weren’t you supposed to run away? Wasn’t that what nightmares were about? Running away from something terrifying?
Tom rubbed his eyes again. The dreams were ruining his sleep. He rested his head on the desk and squeezed the back of his neck. It felt good and he stayed there. His eyes weighed heavy. He closed them.
“Ahem.”
Tom opened his eyes and raised his head. Everyone was staring at him. He looked to the front of the class where Madam Stewart sat. But she wasn’t there. His heart sank. He had been doing so well...
“Do you find my class boring, Thomas?”
“No, Madam Stewart,” Tom said, resignedly. He knew what was coming. She would tell him off eventually. But first, she was going to toy with him.
“Did you confuse my classroom for your bedroom?”
“No-”
“Why then, were you asleep?”
Was he sleeping? His eyes had been closed, he knew that much, but had he really been asleep? Tom briefly considered lying, but he had no idea how long Madam Stewart had been standing over him.
“I’m sorry, Madam Stewart,” Tom said.
He didn’t bother telling her that he was tired, that he hadn’t slept well. Knowing her, she would probably have told him off for not being able to do even that properly.
“Some days you turn up late, other days you don’t turn up at all, and now you add falling asleep in my class to the list?”
It wasn’t ‘some days’. It was one of each. But he couldn’t say that. And he had already apologised, so he stared down at his table and waited for her to go. But she didn’t.
“How are you coming along with today’s task?”
It was only then did Tom notice the glass on his table. How long had that been there? What was he supposed to do with it? From the corner of his eye, he could see Saafir pointing at his glass slyly and raising his fingers.
The Other Side (Thomas Skinner Book 1) Page 6
