Rule 9 Academy Series Boxset: Books 3-5 Young Adult Paranormal Fantasy (Rule 9 Academy Box Sets (3 Book Series) 2)

by Elizabeth Rain

They were strangers, after all. I didn’t remember one. I forced my feet to move forward and away from the door. My insides were jelly, and I was glad I hadn’t eaten recently because I’m not sure my nerves would have allowed me to keep it down. But I didn’t look away. I’d had experience with Rule 9 Council back home, and showing weakness was the best way to lose with authority like theirs.

  “Where is my grandfather?”

  Immediate frowns of confusion followed my question, as if I’d caught them off guard. Surely they spoke English.

  A young Sylvan woman stepped forward, the soft peach silk of her gauzy tunic fluttering gracefully over cream-colored tights. An abundance of gold and precious stones adorned her throat and wrists. She eyed me curiously, her eyes cool. She flicked a brief glance in Mirra’s direction, causing my sister’s eyes to flash in irritation.

  “Surely you know…after all, it’s why Tarus Council summoned you here. Otherwise, what would have been the point?”

  Her voice, heavy with disdain, angered me, and I took another decisive step forward, my eyes narrowing.

  “If I knew, I wouldn’t have asked, now would I?” I heard a few hissed gasps in the room. Good. It was best they knew this mermaid wasn’t backing away from such rudeness.

  “Well then, since you are so desperate to know. Grandfather is dead,” she said flatly. But the hint of satisfaction I expected in her voice was absent. Instead, I heard pain behind the brave words.

  I jerked in shock, the exact reasoning behind my summons almost two weeks before suddenly becoming clear.

  “Who are you?” I asked, afraid that I already knew.

  “I’m your sister, Pinna. Heir to the throne,” she purred, back in control and smiling.

  A snort sounded from the couch, reminding me of the bellow of a moose calf I’d heard once. Perched there, in the corner of the couch holding her upright, was an old woman. Sparse gray hair covered her head. Her wrinkled skin and bent frame alluded to her age as she sipped some amber colored liquid from a heavy stemmed glass.

  “Get in line, girl. You know you’re not. Sirris would have to die first. And that’s not happening,” she jeered, giving my younger sister a dark look.

  Pinna whirled on her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Sans. And…”

  Sans inclined her head, her bushy brows rising. “Careful now, were you about to say that the Council doesn’t know what it’s doing?”

  My sister paled. “No, of course not. But I am the only sibling that is pure blood. Surely that is what Tarus Council would have as their queen. No half-blood Seascrill or…Onlander could have Tarus’ best interests at heart.”

  The elderly lady held her empty glass up to a wandering maid, indicating the need for a refill. Maybe it contained liquor, and she needed it to deal with my snobbish younger sister. No wonder I didn’t remember her. I’d probably worked hard to forget.

  “That is up to the Council, Pinna, not you. Now we have just delivered quite the shock to Princess Sirris, and all before we’ve welcomed her home or offered her something to eat.” She turned towards me. “Please, come in and join us. Ignore Pinna. She suffers from a bit of sibling rivalry as the youngest.”

  I did as she asked, nodding gratefully to the young maid that offered me something to drink. I came in and took a seat on the other end of the couch, patting the spot next to me and eying Mirra, who hadn’t moved. She ignored my request, instead coming to stand at the back of the couch behind me.

  The initial surprise over, the rest of the room dissolved into conversation. Sans remained perched on the couch next to me. The brooding Pinna took a chair across from us. Together, we formed a small huddle.

  “So tell me what happened,” I asked.

  When Pinna would have answered, Sans held a gnarled hand up, silencing her. “He was discovered dead in his bed almost a month ago. Natural causes. He was 115 years old.”

  The words were matter of fact, but something in her tone made me glance at her sharply.

  “I’m sorry. He was my grandfather, but I barely remember him as a gruff bear of a man that snuck me Sea Jelly Pops when no one was looking.” My mouth snapped shut. Now where had that come from?

  She nodded. “He was a harsh man, and could be demanding. But he had a soft spot for his grandchildren.”

  Pinna snorted. “We must have had different grandfathers, then.”

  Sans’ dark eyes slashed to the hovering girl. “Some of us got what we gave. Now hush if you can’t say something nice.”

  Pinna looked away, her mouth mutinous.

  “I still don’t understand why I am here. The reasons I left, they still stand. Pinna’s right, I’m an Onlander now, I cut my ties to Tarus a long time ago.”

  The old woman gave a cross grunt. “You can’t change who you are. You are the eldest Sylvan, and that’s all Tarus Council cares about. They need a queen to replace their king.”

  “I still say Pinna would—” I started.

  “Silence! You seem to be under the illusion that you have a choice here. You don’t, ” she hissed, her eyes bright and terrifying.

  I snapped my mouth shut in shock, feeling the light brush of fingers over my shoulder from Mirra, urging me to do just that.

  Sans’ expression softened once more. But I wasn’t fooled. “I’ve had your room redone, your grandfather’s room. You will stay there. The Council will meet tomorrow night and you are expected to attend.”

  A pit of despair settled inside me as I read between the lines. She wasn’t asking me. And the room they’d set up for me was not just a lovely place for me to stay, it was a prison to keep me confined where they could control my movements here in Tarus.

  I cherished the only warmth in the room at my back. “Alone? I fear I will have nightmares. He died there.”

  She gave me a cool look. “Really? I can have a maid…”

  “What about Mirra? Can she stay with me?”

  She sent Mirra a flicker of mistrust over my shoulder. “No. She’s a Seascrill. I’d heard you had a run in with several of them on the way here. Inviting her in wouldn’t be wise.”

  I tamped the anger roiling in my stomach down to manageable proportions. “She’s my sister, and she saved my life. If you want me to stay willingly, then so does she.” I stared unwaveringly at the old woman. I’d figured out she wasn’t on the couch because she was feeble. She was there because she commanded the best seat in the house. I’d underestimated her.

  Pinna harrumphed, her expression haughty. “I would have been the better choice. We could have gotten to know each other.”

  I stared at her incredulously, her nose high enough to tempt a bird to perch.

  “I plan to, sister. Get to know you better,” I promised.

  Sans didn’t look happy. “Very well then, I suppose at least you’ll both be where we can keep an eye on you that way.”

  I smiled, unable to resist. “Don’t you trust me?”

  Sans gave a sudden, surprised bark of laughter. “I’d be a fool if I did. Now, look sharp. The maid is coming with a platter of food. I’m sure you’re starving. Eat up, and I’ll show you your room after.” She glanced at Mirra, “And you, help yourself from the buffet, you’ve earned a meal,” she added condescendingly.

  I ground my teeth at the obvious slight, smiling tightly at the maid as she served me. But the fine selection of sushi and other fish and vegetables teased my nose. I needed to eat.

  #

  Someone had redecorated my grandfather’s room with a woman in mind. I crossed the threshold to behold a massive armoire against one wall and a mauve silk draped canopy over a massive four-poster bed in the center. A small alcove led to another room barely large enough for the single cot it held. A maid’s quarters.

  Sans stood at my shoulder, explaining the room’s contents and letting me know when I was expected to show up for breakfast, unless I planned to go hungry.

  “Food is normally served in the dining room of our apartment. Today was a special occas
ion to celebrate the heir apparent, you. Don’t expect those that live here to extend that deference to your person regularly.”

  She looked out into the main room, pivoted, and closed the door, sealing us all inside the bed chambers.

  My back went rigid with suspicion.

  As I watched, Mirra relaxed, her stiff smile from before softening. Sans stepped closer, lowering her voice to a whisper.

  “You need to listen. There are those of us who believe your grandfather’s death was no accident. Watch your back.” She pulled a handful of beads and colorful shells from the deep pockets concealed in the heavy skirt she wore. She thrust them into Mirra’s hands and I watched them disappear on her person in a small pouch she wore at her waist just as fast. “Be careful who you trust.”

  “But what about Pinna?” I protested.

  “Especially Pinna. Don’t presume any lingering, sisterly affections. She doesn’t know you, and you don’t have a clue as to her true motives. Listen and live. I’ll see you at the meeting tomorrow.”

  She turned abruptly, not waiting for a reply. She opened the door wide and looked back and said, “Welcome home, Sirris.”

  And then she was gone, the door once more sealing us in. Mirra looked at the bed in the alcove and scowled at the lumpy mattress. “Looks comfy, thanks.”

  I growled. “Don’t be an idiot. We’re sharing that monstrosity in the center of the room. Just don’t hog the covers.”

  She grinned and gave a sudden leap, landing with a ‘poof’ in the center of the bed, waggling her brows. “No promises I can’t keep, but you’re welcome to fight me for them.”

  I slapped a hand to my mouth to hide a sudden giggle, ignoring the niggling sense I’d stepped on a hornet’s nest, and was about to get stung.

  #

  “Today is All Tarus Day, a celebration we hold every year to commemorate past kings and queens.” There was a trace of sardonic amusement in Mirra’s voice as she lay on her back in our room the next morning, arms and legs flung wide, head near my shoulder where I clung to a thin sliver of the bed’s edge.

  I gave a grunt, blinking the sleep from my eyes and rethinking my generous decision to share the bed with her.

  “Your favorite holiday. I can tell.” I mumbled around a yawn.

  “Ha, not even close. But they’ll have a lot of food, various craft tables, and displays of cool trinkets and what-nots down in the main market square. We should go. I can show you around town, and you can see how the regular folk live.”

  It was my turn to snort. “I am regular people.”

  She turned to look at me, her expression suddenly serious. “No, you’re not. In my case, mediocrity was forced on me from an early age.”

  “Then there are a lot of idiots out there, sister.”

  Her grin turned brilliant. “I knew I loved you. Come on, let’s get dressed and we’ll grab a bite to eat from a vendor in the town square.”

  “What about the dining hall? Don’t they serve food there?”

  “Yeah. But this will be better, promise.”

  “Better be. I’m starving.”

  Mirra’s dark eyes met mine. “Get dressed. The day is wasting, and there’s a lot to see.”

  #

  We wandered through the streets, navigating the crowds of milling people who clustered at various booths, haggling over everything from the cost of fresh fish to colorful jewelry. No money exchanged hands. Tarus ran on a barter system that had been in place and effective since long before I’d been born. Sylvan and Seascrill alike learned to argue and win from an early age if they wanted the best deals. We stopped at a vendor selling Sea Pops. I sighed in pleasure, the bright red gelatin like desert sweet on my tongue. I savored my treat as we continued, stopping to admire a colorful tent filled with fluttery skirts and blouses and scarves. They were lovely, but it was the weapons booth that made me stop and look admiringly at the fine selection of long knives. They were expensive, and I knew we were just window shopping at that point. The beads and shells Sans had given us weren’t near enough to barter for them.

  I asked Mirra as we walked away, “Where do they make metal weapons? We’re 200 feet below the surface in a lake…”

  She shrugged. “A variety of places, really. We barter with other Mer-folk populations in neighboring lakes and all the way out to the sea. Sometimes for the knives themselves, but we have our own metal-smiths as well who barter for the ore and materials and craft them here, in Tarus. Just because we are Mer-folk doesn’t mean we have no resources. The Council may have outlawed our ability to go above and mingle with the Onlander population, but they allow trade trips for supplies.”

  As we walked, I noticed that despite the festivity of the day, spirits and smiles were subdued, and I saw heavy strain in the eyes of many. “Why don’t they allow us to mingle? I mean, maybe not with the human population, I can see that. But why not the Magical or Other community? They’ve known of our existence for a long time.”

  Her expression grew guarded. “Because they are set in their ways. Change doesn’t come easily to Tarus Council, even when it should.”

  A group of young teenage boys approached us, and before I realized what they were about, they purposely stepped in Mirra’s direction, brushing her aside like she wasn’t there and causing her to stumble.

  My temper spiked, and I whirled on them before I thought better of it. “That was rude and immature,” I growled after them, loud enough to carry in the crowd and make several pedestrians stop and gawk.

  My voice stopped them, and they whirled. The short, stocky leader grinned cruelly at me, taking a threatening step in my direction. Behind me, Mirra tugged on my arm.

  “Let’s go. We don’t need a scene.” The crowd was parting, giving us room even as she spoke.

  But she needn’t have worried. The group of boys had only managed two steps in our direction before the tallest gasped. He bent to whisper something in his companion’s ear. Both turned to stare at me, frowning.

  “Never mind, you aren’t worth the time,” he snarled, backing away. I watched their backs recede and vanish into the crowd.

  “What the?”

  “They recognized you. Their lives wouldn’t be worth squat if they were caught assaulting the soon-to-be queen.”

  “I’m not. They are nuts if they think they can force me to take that throne. I don’t want it. I’ve made that pretty clear.”

  She laughed bitterly. “Yeah, it’s done you a lot of good, hasn’t it? Come on, I don’t want to argue. There’s more to see.”

  “Tell me more about Tarus Council, then. The less ignorant I sound at tonight’s meeting, the better.”

  Mirra nodded, smiling at a toddler who gave her a gap-toothed grin. The mother gave the child a sharp yank, her eyes on my sister, mistrustfully. “And that’s another thing. Why should the council be composed of just Sylvans? Where’s the balance of power?”

  “Well, it probably seems like it lies solely with the Sylvan. But that’s not quite true. I think that’s what makes the Tarians so mad. Many of them are angry over the unbending laws the Council enforces, so they need someone to blame. The Seascrill are just handy, and now that the Draco Resistance is under such heavy scrutiny, it’s easy to make the Seascrill a target.”

  “Give me some examples. What laws?”

  “The education and job system for one. Only the Royals are permitted schooling beyond the eighth year. This, of course, then sets them up for all the best jobs, naturally. No one else is qualified. And marriages. They are still largely arranged. The balance, or should I say unbalance of power, has caused many, Sylvan and Seascrill alike, to rebel. The laws are unbalanced. It’s led to a lot of our youth choosing to make a permanent life above in the Other and Magical communities like you did. But it’s difficult when they do. Too many underestimate the difficulty of Mer-folk living on land. It’s not so bad for you. You are half Onlander, you need to visit the mineral healing waters of a lake or river what, once every couple of weeks? A
full blood Sylvan can make it a week. But Seascrill aren’t so lucky. We have about three days before our entire system starts to shut down. A lot have grown ill and died above.”

  Mirra was right. I tried to make a trip to a lake or river, or the hot springs in winter, at least once a week. My skin roughened and peeled if I went much longer than that, and the itching drove me mad. But I could survive before I was in any danger for weeks. My Onlander blood gave me that. It would have been a major pain to go every few days.

  “How did my grandfather feel about Tarus Council laws?”

  “Not sure. He was pretty rigid, too, so mostly I think he agreed. But remember, the throne allowed him a single voice and a seat on the Council. He didn’t make or enforce the laws—Tarus Council did.”

  For lunch we stopped at a tent with a wide variety of sushi rolls, laid out on side-boards for us to haggle over with our remaining beads. We split a roll, the fresh flavors making me sigh. So much better than anything I’d enjoyed above.

  “What should I expect tonight?”

  Mirra paused, chewing. “To do a lot of listening. They will want to lay the law down for you. Tell you what they require. They’ll expect you to agree to everything they say.”

  “And if I don’t?” I added, grabbing the last slice before Mirra could.

  “Be careful, Sirris, in what you say. Remember, you are no longer above where mistakes cost you a loss of privileges. Here, they can cost you your life. Right now you’re necessary. Make sure you stay that way.”

  “Doesn’t mean I’m going to go blindly wherever they tell me to.”

  “I’m not asking you to. I’m just telling you to be careful. For the Council, silence really is golden.”

  Later, I stood in front of the accordion style full-length mirror in my room, admiring the peach floral tunic over lace edged leggings. I left my hair long, flowing like silk down my back. Butterflies danced in my stomach, and I wished I wasn’t going alone. But the invite was for me. My sisters weren’t invited to Council business.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Council meetings were held in a room beneath the castle, down a long rocky corridor in the basement. Shade showed up at the apartment door himself to deliver me at precisely a quarter of six. I pasted a polite smile on my face and opened the door.