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

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Rule 9 Academy Series Boxset: Books 3-5 Young Adult Paranormal Fantasy (Rule 9 Academy Box Sets (3 Book Series) 2) Page 58

by Elizabeth Rain


  “Ready, Sirris?”

  I nodded. I didn’t trust myself to speak.

  I shuddered at the chill air as we took the stairs down beneath the castle, the corridor lit by old-fashioned torches, the flames flickering eerily off the walls.

  Shade left me at the door with an unreadable expression. Tarus Council was seated at a large table in a room that was too small. Heads turned in my direction, and I gulped. I’d been invited to an old person’s convention, came the crazy thought. I counted twelve members, seated and staring at me in open disapproval.

  “You invited me,” I reminded them. Maybe they’d forgotten. I latched onto the only person in the room I knew. Sans stood awkwardly to her feet when I entered. But it wasn’t Sans that answered.

  “Sirris Waverly, please come in and take a seat. We’re pleased you could finally make it,” said a tallish woman with a short cap of gray hair and sharp grey eyes.

  I didn’t miss the sarcasm, and I figured I had it coming. After all, I was only a couple of weeks late.

  I took the indicated seat without a word, lacing my fingers on the table in front of me and waiting.

  “I am Head Councilwoman, Leta. You know Mistress Sans, and on her right is Min.” I stared at the bent frame of the tiny woman next to Sans. She seemed older than the rest, but her shoe-button eyes were still sharp. The remaining members took over, introducing themselves. I’d never remember them all.

  Leta waited until they were finished and leaned forward with a creak of ancient bones, her eyes hard.

  “So, Sirris. By now I’m sure you’ve been apprised of the situation. Your grandfather is no longer with us, and the throne sits empty. As I’m sure you are aware, you are next in line to inherit the position and all it entails.”

  I nodded, unable to come up with anything to say that they wouldn’t find offensive. They were old, but power radiated from those ancient bones.

  “And what are those duties, exactly?”

  Leta gave a nod of approval. “You would take over as a second on the Council, for one. Laws and decisions are made by majority vote, with the head of the Council and the monarchy having two counts each instead of one. Part of your responsibilities include acting as a liaison between the government and the people. They will look to you to keep them apprised and up to date on what goes on in the city of Tarus, beyond in Deep Lake, and even above, in the world of the Onlanders.”

  I listened without speaking, taking it all in. Mirra had been right. The monarchy itself had little power, not when compared to the Council’s reach.

  “I’m curious, can you tell me how I am next in line as a halfling Onlander and Sylvan, and why my elder sister, Mirra, and my younger pure Sylvan sister, are not?”

  Leta’s expression grew less friendly, but she answered the question. “Mirra’s Seascrill blood makes her ineligible. They are foreigners that we tolerate. They aren’t even originally from Deep Lake. Their ancestors inhabit Lake Michigan, predominantly. As for Pinna? She is too young, and Tarus Council took a vote before you were summoned. We have decided that having someone who is comfortable interacting with other Onlanders could be an advantage. The citizens of Tarus are hungry for many of the items that you take for granted above and that are luxuries here. Your diplomacy in helping us get some of those items could prove invaluable.”

  “Okay, what about my friends and family above? My father?”

  Several members of the Council, and Sans in particular, moved uncomfortably. Leta sat up straight, her nose inching northwards with superiority. She waved a hand diffidently.

  “You are nearly 18 years old. Time to leave childish relationships behind and take on the responsibilities of an adult. The law is clear, except in the case of barter and trade, personal relationships with Onlanders is expressly forbidden. Not to worry, you will form family ties with the people of Tarus. Your sisters, various cousins. Your husband.”

  The hairs along my arms and shoulders abruptly stood at attention. “My…what did you say?”

  Leta frowned, as if talking to a troublesome child. “Your husband, Dael. Your betrothal was arranged when you were five. His lineage as a Sylvan Royal will align perfectly with yours. He brings pure bloodlines and experience on the battlefield to the marriage. It’s a suitable match.”

  I gasped, trying to wrap my mind around what was expected of me. “You expect me to marry a stranger I barely remember?”

  Leta smiled coldly. “Of course. It is your duty, and a Sylvan places that above all else. It’s the law.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to shout out to her what I thought of her screwed up laws. But somehow I held back, remembering what Mirra had cautioned as we walked through the market streets earlier.

  “Would he then hold a position on the Council as well?” I asked instead, trying to buy time.

  Leta smiled, pleased with my acquiescence. “Of course, but only one vote. You and I would be the only members with two.”

  I leaned back in my seat, hiding the nervous twisting of my fingers in my lap, schooling my features to conceal the turmoil I felt. The feeling persisted that I’d walked into a trap. For the first time since I’d come below, I thought long and hard about my father and Thomas and my friends. I wasn’t nearly as willing as the Council to leave them behind me. I’d been so fascinated by the city and the people, I’d forgotten where I was. Now I remembered the guards at the entrance in…and out of the city. One word from Tarus Council, and I’d be going nowhere.

  I pasted a thin smile on my face then and said nothing. I felt the weight of the Council’s speculation as they watched me for any sign of noncompliance. I planned to give them none—not on the surface at least.

  Leta finally gave a sharp nod, her lips tight. “That’s settled, then. Are we in agreement?”

  No, I can’t do this. I’m not a butterfly in a jar!

  Aloud I murmured, “When does the coronation ceremony take place?”

  “A week from tomorrow. It will take that long to have you ready. Banners need to be sent out before that. Food and festivities need to be arranged. You’ll see, it’s quite the party.”

  I plastered a bright smile on my face. “I can hardly wait.”

  Back in the apartment, my sister Pinna waited. She stood looking through the large glass window, a view of Deep Lake on the other side of the thick glass. She glanced back at me, her expression difficult to read when I entered. I looked around. Mirra was gone.

  “So, when will you be queen?”

  I moved to take up a position beside her, watching the tangle of seaweed wave back and forth on the lake bed below. Darting movement in and out of the dark green foliage caught my eye. A school of yellow perch weaved in and out of the tall, thin pond weeds. I didn’t miss the sarcasm in her voice. I found it laughable that she wasn’t any happier over the situation than me, but for totally different reasons. “In a week. I can hardly wait. I wish it was going to be you.”

  “It should be,” she challenged.

  “I don’t want it,” I said.

  She whipped around, her eyes wide. “Shut up. These walls have ears.”

  I grimaced. “It’s the truth, and you want me away from here as much as I need to go.”

  “I want you gone, not dead. You keep on, you'll be fish food floating by a window on the outside of Tarus.”

  “That reminds me, what’s with all the crazy security. It seems like overkill?”

  Pinna hesitated. “There have been attacks inside Tarus, and out. Similar to what you experienced. Most of it is Seascrill related, though not all.”

  “I’ve heard it’s because the people aren’t happy with the strict, old-fashioned laws of the Council?”

  Pinna’s lips quirked. “Wonder where you heard that one? There’s some truth to it, though. People want more say in how they run their lives. They are tired of the Council making all their decisions for them. A lot of it is for their own good, mind. But some of it? Well, let’s just say the citizens of Tarus are ready for s
ome changes.”

  As I watched, a larger shadow loomed, turning into several well-armed Sylvan guards cruising the perimeter of Tarus past our window. Muscled arms held their tridents at ready, silvery fins propelling them forward with dizzying speed and creating clouds of bubbles that spun towards the surface.

  I wondered if the Seascrill community was willing to pay the cost of change.

  #

  The darkness hid the truth effectively, concealing those that wished to remain hidden. In the tall needle-like leaves of the widgeon grass they hovered, waiting for instructions from the tall Sylvan who led them.

  He stood stoic and steady, waiting for the right moment to send them in. They addressed him as Tru. But he knew they called him the Dragon in private. They were just the fin soldiers, waiting to do his bidding, for the promises he’d made to them of a better life.

  Tru watched the entrance to Tarus, waiting for when three of the six departed to complete their circuit around the outer boundary of Tarus, leaving the other three alone, guarding the only way in. As soon as they disappeared from view, Tru gave a sharp downward slash of his hand. Immediately, three of his loyal troops emerged into the open, each taking aim at the three remaining guards. The darts fired in a whoosh of small bubbles, the thirty yards to their target covered in seconds, needles sinking deep and releasing the neural inhibitor that rendered them unconscious before they could open their mouths to sound an alarm. Tru motioned a second time and watched as the detail of twelve Seascrill darted from the cover of the lake bed, snagging the fallen guards between them and taking to the tunnel that led beneath Tarus and emerged inside the inner pool.

  Tru watched them go, wishing he could join them. But keeping his identity a secret was crucial to the movement’s success.

  The twelve members of the Draco Rebellion moved into position, the light from the poolroom a pale crescent above them. They gathered, guns at the ready beneath the surface, each with the vague outline of a target in sight beneath the darkened waters. The light in the room above made it nearly impossible to see beneath the rippling surface of the pool.

  As soon as they were in place, they rose together, bows drawn and ready with more incapacitating darts. They surfaced at once, the element of surprise on their side as they took out the waiting guards before they could bring their weapons to bear on them.

  The Dragon Resistance emerged from the pool, stepping over the fallen. In seconds, they were simply men, fins and scales replaced by feet and legs. They dressed swiftly in silence before gliding down the hallway and through the door onto the streets of Tarus. The castle entrance was less than a hundred yards away. Keeping in the shadows, they closed in, moving fast. Time was of the essence. The circling guards would return from their rotation around Tarus and sound the alarm when they discovered the guards freely floating and unconscious in the tunnels.

  #

  I couldn’t sleep. I sat up in bed, glancing over at Mirra, who was having no such issues beside me. Sadie had always told me I was a bed hog. She hadn’t met my sister. If it was possible to further sprawl herself over the surface of the bed, I didn’t see how. I reached out and gently lifted her arm from where it was flung across my chest. One knee dangled over the side of the other edge and I shook my head. I eased over the side and tried not to hiss when my feet contacted the icy stone floor. I stood up, glancing back at my oblivious companion, and wriggled my toes over the dark surface until I found my kid slippers from earlier. I slid them on barefoot and crept to the door.

  On the other side, the rest of the apartment was wreathed in shadows, the small glow lamps that acted as night lights casting meager light to see by. But a mermaid’s eyesight is excellent in the dark. It was all I needed to find my way. I glanced towards the kitchen. But I wasn’t in the mood for a late-night snack. My mind kept going back to the earlier meeting, the one that had laid out the entire rest of my existence without my permission. I hadn’t figured out how to wriggle myself out of it yet, either. So here I was, in the middle of the night, at the door to the apartment leading out into the rest of the castle. I needed to know what I was up against, just in case they really did plan to keep me prisoner, or worse, when they found out I had no intentions of being the compliant little Mer-woman to their crazy designs. I’d been here for such a short time, and I hadn’t had the tour. It was time for me to take one. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t asked Mirra to go with me. I trusted her well enough. Pinna, I didn’t have as much faith in, though our opinion on who should be queen was in complete accordance. I wanted a chance to explore the castle myself, and I didn’t want any company.

  I closed the apartment door behind me, expecting to see several guards along the hallway. Instead, the long corridor stood empty. It led to the set of stone spiral stairs down to the main hall and rooms below ours. The steps continued up as well, leading to the top floor, and the cat-walk that circled the entire castle and was always patrolled by guards. I hadn’t been up there, but I’d seen the ant-like figures moving along the parapet from below when I’d first come to the castle.

  Now I frowned. It was not very good security if the Royal Family and Council were left unguarded when they were most vulnerable.

  I moved along the balustrade, my foot hovering over the first step down, when movement on the main floor below caught my eye. Two dark shadowy figures moved into view, not yet looking up to where I hovered in plain view above them. From the bulk of their clothing and the glint of steel swinging from scabbards at their hips, I figured they were well armed. I glanced down at my dark navy pajamas, concealing my presence from the trained soldiers below. Surprising the armed Royal Guards in the middle of the night couldn’t be a good thing. I opened my mouth to alert them to my presence, when they bent down suddenly and grabbed something and dragged it into what I knew to be the main hall closet. What they were hiding had feet. I gulped, snapping my mouth shut and ducking low, the barest squeak of fear sneaking past my startled lips as I dived. Those weren’t our guards. And now I knew why there’d been none posted at the doors. Something had made them abandon their posts, or they’d been taken. We were sitting ducks on the upper floor. I was sure I’d seen the glimmer of the yellow Tarus guard insignia on the prone figure as it slid beneath the dim glow of the lamp.

  My heart raced, fingers plastered over my big mouth. Maybe they hadn’t heard the small tell. It hadn’t been loud, and I was sure I’d ducked before they saw me.

  And then I heard the first footfall on the bottom step. It was followed by the hissed whispers of several more. They were coming up the stairs. I’d be right in their line of fire when they reached the top.

  #

  I froze for several precious seconds, trying to process what was happening. With a cry, I forced my feet to move. They were half-way up the stairs and coming fast. I turned towards the darkened doorways of the apartment, gasping when a dart whirred over my head, missing me by inches. Crouching down past the balustrade, I ran for our apartment door. I wrenched it open just as the first of the intruders made the landing, whirling in my direction and firing repeatedly at me. I crossed the threshold, hearing the dull thuds against the outer wall as the darts made contact, glancing off them and missing me by inches.

  I slammed the door behind me, screeching at the top of my lungs and turning the locks. It wouldn’t hold them. Not that many. I hoped it would slow them down long enough for us to at least get our weapons and see what was coming rather than being caught sleeping, literally.

  Lights came on, the pale yellow streams blinking beneath the thin thread of space beneath the doors. My bedroom door flung open, and Mirra stood there in her pajamas, her trident in one hand, a long knife at the ready in her other.

  I screamed, “We’re under attack. Whoever they are, they’ve taken the guards down and are at the door.”

  Mirra hissed at the others as they emerged from their doorways, “Weapon up!” When they just stared at her, she snarled, “Or die. Your choice.”

  It was the mo
tivation they needed. With cries of comprehension, they whirled back into their rooms, presumably to grab whatever they had to defend themselves.

  I dashed past Mirra into our room, as a heavyweight hit the outer door. It held, but the eerie crack of splitting timber said it wouldn’t for long. I had no time to dress. Instead, I snatched up my staff, hitching my sheathed long-knife to my pajama clad hips. I looked longingly at my hand bow., but this would be close quarters fighting. My staff and knife were more effective for that.

  I joined the others gathered in the main room as the outer door finally gave, slamming into the wall behind it, splinters flying in every direction.

  Four shadowed Seascrill thundered into view and took aim. We were sitting ducks.

  I was already moving as they did, swinging my staff forward, energy sizzling over my arms, ending in a flare of blue flames at the tip of my staff. Before they could tighten their fingers around the trigger, I gave a shout of determination, sending an arc of blue fire in their direction. I hit the front runner square and sent him flying backwards into the others in a tangle of arms, legs, and weapons.

  Mirra and I were advancing before they could recover. Behind us, the rest stood, a study in indecision. They were civilians, not soldiers, and the unexpected shock had frozen them silly.

  My sister clearly had no patience for their feelings as she glanced back at them. “Move!” she hissed, her eyes nearly black with rage. It was the push they needed as they finally recovered their wits. Before our attackers could get to their feet they were overcome by an onslaught of clubs and knives. Together, Mirra and I jumped past them and into the hall. The spill of light and screams from several other apartments further down told us ours wasn’t the only apartment under attack. We’d all been targeted. It was up to us to make sure we didn’t become victims.

 

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