by Lynette Noni
A chiming sound broke into Jordan’s anxious thoughts and he quit pacing to draw his ComTCD from his jeans pocket, exhaling with relief when he saw the identity of the caller.
“Alex, where the hell are you?” he said in greeting as he connected the call, her holograph rising up out of his device. She looked a frightful mess—her face lined with exhaustion, her hair hanging limp around her face, and, most noticeably of all, a white bandage circling the bloodstained jeans of her upper thigh.
Taking in her appearance, Jordan was just about to change his question and demand to know what had happened when she spoke up first.
“I don’t suppose you want to come rescue me from the clutches of the mad librarian?”
Jordan blinked, then blinked again. “The librarian did that to you?”
Alex choked out a startled laugh, then quickly broke off and looked around hastily as if not wanting to be caught. “This happened up in Draekora.” She indicated her leg with her free hand. “But I’m okay—Kyia and Zain made sure I was patched up well enough. And you should see the other guy.”
Jordan offered a smile, knowing it was the response she expected, even if his insides were still tight with fear. “Where are you?”
“I wasn’t kidding about the librarian,” Alex said, lowering her voice further as she glanced nervously around. “He’s going to return any second so I can’t talk for long, but I just wanted to report in and let you know I’m back at the academy, safe and sound. As soon as I’m done playing slave to the unrelenting taskmaster, I’ll catch up with you guys. Okay?”
Alex was back. She was safe. Aven hadn’t captured her. Jordan could breathe easy again. Because of that, the smile he sent her this time was genuine. “Sounds good. Bear and Dix are in the Rec Room—I’ll meet up with them shortly so you’ll find us all there when you’re done.”
“It’s a plan,” Alex agreed. She then hesitated before adding, “Unless the librarian never lets me leave, in which case… enjoy the rest of your life, Jordan. It was nice knowing you.”
Sympathy welled within Jordan—but so too did amusement. “Always so dramatic, Jennings.”
She pulled a face at him before disconnecting the call while Jordan was still smiling, his relief pouring out of him. Had Alex known how truly worried he’d been, she would have called him an idiot and reminded him of all the reasons she didn’t want nor need a babysitter. But Jordan couldn’t help it, not after everything they’d been through. It was all too raw, still.
Her call had offered him some respite, at least for now. Feeling much better, he grabbed his Medical Science homework and headed down to the Rec Room to join the others, pleased that the group he was in with Alex, Blink and Pipsqueak had already finished Doc’s five-page History essay.
Alex didn’t end up joining them by the time they all dispersed for bed, but Jordan wasn’t worried this time, since he knew she was back at the academy—even if she was stuck with the unrelenting librarian. He and the others would see her in the morning and hear news of how her visits to Tryllin and Draekora had fared.
In the meantime, Jordan was determined that this would be the night he slept straight through without waking up soaked in sweat or screaming himself hoarse. He felt at peace, falling into bed, knowing his friends were all safe; knowing that right here, right now, none of them were in danger.
But despite what he knew to be true, his subconscious mind wasn’t willing to play along, so yet again Jordan found himself sitting out beside the icy lake in the early hours of the morning.
This time, however, it wasn’t D.C.’s soft footsteps he heard approach. Indeed, he heard no crunching of the snow indicating the arrival of anyone, so he wasn’t at all expecting the low, male voice disturbing the silence from directly beside him.
“Seems I’ve found the perfect bait.”
Three
Jordan jumped to his feet, his hands flying up into a defensive position. When his eyes fell on the owner of the voice, he lowered his arms but his pulse continued to pound in his chest.
“Hunter?” Jordan said, shock choking the word into a half gasp, half wheeze. Clearing his throat, his next question came out stronger. “What are you doing out here?”
The moon was bright overhead and the Stealth and Subterfuge teacher’s hood was pushed back on his cloak, so Jordan could clearly see Hunter’s facial expression as he raised his dark brows and said, pointedly, “I’m not the one breaking curfew.”
Jordan fought the urge to shuffle his feet. “You startled me,” he admitted, his heartbeat finally beginning to settle. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be out here.”
If anything, Hunter’s brows only inched higher. With what almost passed for amusement, he drawled, “Now we both know that’s not true.”
This time Jordan had to fight the urge to look back in the direction of the dorm building to see if D.C. was already making her way over.
“However,” Hunter continued, “I’m sorry to say your preferred company won’t be joining you tonight.”
Jordan felt a stab of panic, and Hunter must have noted the reaction because his voice turned calming as he shared, “The princess is safe and well. But despite her intention to join you as she has every other night this week, I have a feeling she will be sleeping soundly until morning.”
A little of the panic left Jordan and he looked closer at his teacher, wondering about Hunter’s vaguely referenced ‘feeling’. Alex had once explained what she understood of the man’s gift, how his supernatural awareness and perception allowed him to know things he shouldn’t and see things before they happened. If Hunter claimed D.C. was safe but wouldn’t be joining Jordan that night, then Jordan knew that was most likely true. Even if it was disappointing, since their silent hours together afforded him a modicum of peace otherwise missing from his daily life.
“Thanks for, uh, letting me know,” Jordan said, if only to acknowledge Hunter’s words. “I guess I’ll just…” He waved a hand towards the path back to the dormitory, not at all ready to return yet but presuming he was expected to do so.
A slight shake of Hunter’s head. “You misunderstand, Jordan. I didn’t come out here to ease any fears you might have felt when Delucia failed to join you tonight.”
Jordan shoved his hands into his pockets and waited to hear what his teacher would say next. It didn’t seem like he was going to be punished for breaking curfew. Indeed, given Hunter’s earlier words, he clearly already knew Jordan—and D.C.—had been breaking curfew all week. But why, then, was Hunter out in the cold in the middle of the night?
Rewinding their conversation in his mind, Jordan tried to figure out if he’d missed anything that might answer his question, since Hunter had avoided doing so when asked earlier. It was only when Jordan considered the teacher’s opening words that he felt a spark of apprehension tingle down his spine.
‘Seems I’ve found the perfect bait.’
Swallowing, Jordan peered closely at Hunter and said, “If you’re not here to tell me about Dix, and you’re not here to give me detention, then why are you out here?”
A gleam of what could only be described as anticipation hit Hunter’s dark eyes, but like earlier, he offered no response. Instead, he reached into the folds of his shadowy cloak and pulled out a Bubbler vial. Without hesitating—or explaining—he threw it to the ground, activating the liquid within enough for the Bubbledoor to rise up from the snow.
Only then did Hunter turn back to Jordan and answer, “Tonight, I’m going hunting.”
Jordan was rooted to the spot as the word ‘bait’ replayed in his mind yet again. “Hunting?”
“And since you have nothing better to do,” Hunter continued as if Jordan hadn’t spoken, “you’re coming with me.”
With no other warning, the teacher latched his fingers around Jordan’s elbow and dragged him through the Bubbledoor behind him.
For the first time in his life, Jordan struggled to remain on his feet as he came out the other side and only just avoi
ded stumbling into the dark outline of a sturdy tree trunk.
“What the hell, Hun—”
“Quiet,” Hunter ordered, his grip on Jordan’s elbow tightening as he led the way through a thicket of scratchy branches that snagged on their clothing.
Long, silent minutes passed as they struggled against nature until finally they stepped into a small clearing. Only then did Hunter release Jordan, who immediately moved his hands to his hair and clothes, attempting to dislodge the prickles that were now covering him from head to toe.
Taking his freedom as an indication that he could speak, Jordan said, grumpily, “Would it have been too much trouble to have had the Bubbledoor bring us straight here, rather than bushwhacking our way through Thorn Land?”
“How long have you been taking my class, Jordan?” Hunter’s watchful eyes peered around the clearing and up at the dense canopy before returning to Jordan. He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing, “Perhaps long enough to know I always have a reason for the things I do?”
“We’re not in class right now.”
Hunter just looked at him. “Aren’t we?”
Feeling uncertain, Jordan didn’t reply.
“Life is a lesson, Jordan. Minute after minute, hour after hour, in class and out of it. You of all people should know that we learn from what we live through, and those teachings are rarely scheduled to fit into a school timetable.”
Jordan couldn’t hold the man’s dark gaze, so he turned to look around the small clearing. It was hardly even that, really; more a gap in the forest large enough for perhaps five people to fit side by side. Breathing room, but little more.
Finally, Jordan moved his eyes back to Hunter and said, “So tonight’s life lesson is on hunting? What, may I ask, is our prey?”
Hunter watched Jordan carefully for a moment before nodding at whatever he saw in his features. The teacher then began checking the various—and numerous—weapons strapped to his body, unsheathing two Shadow Daggers and holding them out for Jordan as he replied, “Tonight, we’re hunting Hyroas.”
Jordan had been reaching for the swirling black blades but he froze mid-action. “Hyroas?”
Hunter pushed the daggers into Jordan’s half-outstretched hands, leaving Jordan no choice but to tighten his fingers around them or let them drop to the ground. As he numbly did so, Hunter said, “I have a feeling Alex is going to have an unorthodox request soon.”
Jordan waited for more details, but Hunter had apparently said all he was going to and was now checking the last of his weapons.
“Alex hasn’t mentioned anything about Hy—”
“Not yet,” Hunter interrupted, “but she will.”
Shaking his head, since that was all he could do, Jordan belted the sheath Hunter handed him to his waist, strapping both daggers on opposite sides of his body. While he preferred fighting right-handed, during his second year at the academy, he’d broken his dominant wrist when a prank backfired on him. Instead of enjoying Fletcher’s fast-acting Regenevators, part of Jordan’s punishment had left him wearing a cast and healing naturally. While frustrating at first, he’d come to appreciate the handicap, especially in classes like Combat, since his left-handed training had ultimately given him an advantage over the other students. Karter himself maintained that ambidexterity was an invaluable asset that offered an element of surprise during a fight.
Glancing into the dark of the forest while nervously palming the daggers, Jordan hoped this wouldn’t be the night where he’d learn the truth of Karter’s words.
“I’m sure I don’t need to point this out, but Hyroas aren’t the friendliest of beasties,” Jordan said, vastly understating what he knew of the creatures. He’d never encountered one himself—sightings were extremely rare nowadays, and it was even rarer for anyone to survive and tell the tale afterwards—but Jordan knew from Alex’s misadventures that he didn’t want to be within miles of a Hyroa, let alone actively hunting one of them.
“You’re right, Jordan,” Hunter said, crouching to the ground and pressing his palm against the earth, “you don’t need to point that out.”
Jordan felt a muscle flutter in his cheek but he shook off his irritation. “I suppose you have a plan?”
Hunter rose again and dusted off his hands. “You already know my plan.”
‘Seems I’ve found the perfect bait.’
Cursing mentally as the words flooded his mind yet again, Jordan realised it was even worse than he’d imagined. His voice was deadpan as he stated, rather than asked, “You’re using me as bait.”
Hunter cocked his head to the side. “That wouldn’t be very responsible of me now, would it?”
Jordan just stared at his teacher’s face, mottled as it was by shadows from the moonlight filtering through the thick trees.
There was a hint of humour in Hunter’s tone when he continued, “No, Jordan. I have no intention of using a student as bait to trap a ferocious predator. The headmaster affords me certain liberties when it comes to my teaching methods, but I imagine that might be pushing even him a bit.”
Jordan’s eyes narrowed with mistrust. “You don’t strike me as the kind of person who fears being reprimanded by Marselle.”
A flash of white as Hunter grinned. “You’re right about that. But Alex would skin me alive if she ever found out I’d deliberately put her best friend in danger. And Delucia would order my execution.” He paused. “It’d be interesting to see who would get in first.”
Absurdly, Jordan found himself agreeing with Hunter—it would be interesting. “If I’m not the bait…”
“You’re the hunter, Jordan. I’m the bait.”
Jordan stared at his teacher. “Excuse me?”
A beam of moonlight revealed a hint of gold as Hunter tossed something through the air, and Jordan’s hand whipped out automatically to catch it. He turned it over between his fingers, squinting at it in the darkness. Smooth like a pebble and shaped like one too, it easily fit into the hollow of his hand. Considering its small size, it was surprisingly weighty.
“You know what that is?” Hunter asked.
Jordan had no idea. “An egg?”
“Good guess, but no. The plan is to make it crack like one, though.”
Looking at Hunter in question, Jordan waited to hear more.
Pointing deeper into the thorny forest, Hunter said, “A few minutes walking in that direction and we’ll be on the edge of Hyroa territory. It’s mating season and a full moon, so it won’t take long for them to catch our scent. Technically, they’ll be the ones hunting us, not the other way around. And we’re going to let them.”
That seemed like a particularly imbecilic idea to Jordan, and he had no qualms in sharing as much with his teacher. Colourfully.
When he was done, if anything, Hunter appeared amused by Jordan’s candour. “Teenagers these days,” he murmured with a grin. “Such creative vocabulary.”
Unimpressed, Jordan crossed his arms, his fingers still wrapped around the golden pebble.
“Don’t tighten your fist too much on that,” Hunter warned, indicating to Jordan’s aggravated stance. “You do and you’ll end up as accidental bait after all. The results won’t be… pleasant.” His eyes flickered for a moment, as if he was watching that particular scenario play out, and Jordan very carefully loosened his grip, causing Hunter to shake himself back to the present and give a quick nod of approval.
“Now,” Hunter said, his eyes peering into the dark of the forest, “the plan is for you to use your gift and remain invisible while I draw attention. Hyroas hunt alone, so we should only have to face one at a time.”
Should? Jordan wondered, noting the distinct lack of certainty in that single word.
“What you’re holding is an instant-release paralytic knockout cocktail—mostly Faenda venom but mixed with a few extra special ingredients for an added kick.”
Jordan’s fingers spasmed and he relaxed his grip even more, just to be safe.
“When the Hyroa i
s close to me,” Hunter continued, “your job is to put enough pressure on the shell for it to crack, then throw it as hard as you can at the beast. Do not, and I mean do not, keep holding onto it once you’ve broken the seal, or best-case scenario, I’ll be dragging your paralysed ass back to the academy.”
Jordan didn’t have to ask in order to know that the worst-case scenario meant neither of them would be returning to the academy, paralysed or not.
“Right,” Jordan muttered. “Crack and throw. Got it.”
Hunter bobbed his head in confirmation. “Ready?”
No. Jordan most definitely was not ready to face down a monstrous carnivore that would like nothing more than to make a meal out of him. But… at the same time… he also was ready. All week he’d been walking around in a daze of fear—fear of the unknown, fear of what might happen next. Now, at least, his fear was of something tangible—something real. Something he was about to face and, hopefully, conquer, rather than fear of the shadows that had haunted him of late.
He felt… alive. He felt… free.
He felt more like himself than he had for a long time.
And that was why he simply answered, “Ready.”
The look of approval that hit Hunter’s eyes was something Jordan wouldn’t forget for a long time. And that, more than anything, made him realise that Hunter hadn’t happened randomly upon him by the lake and decided to take him along for the journey on a whim. The teacher had had a plan all along—and not just one for hunting Hyroas.
Throat tightening, Jordan kept from making a fool of himself with an emotional declaration of gratitude by instead asking, “If I’m to remain transcended, why give me the daggers?”
Hunter turned away and stepped out of the clearing and into the thorns, but not before Jordan caught a flash of a wicked grin. “Never can be too careful.”
Apprehension flooded Jordan, but so too did a thrill of anticipation, and he found he was fighting his own grin as he followed after Hunter. “If I survive the night, can I keep them?”
