The Chronicles of Fire and Ice (The Legend of the Archangel Book 1)

by L. L Hunter

  “Hey, Fox,” said a guy who was bent over his laptop in the corner. He had dirty blonde hair and wore bright blue glasses and had a fringe that hung over half of his face.

  “Hey, Eddie, what’s new?” asked Jacob.

  “Just updating my blog. Nothin’ much.”

  “Just a typical Friday night, huh?”

  “Pretty much. Anyway, I have to go. I’ll leave ya to it.” As Eddie left, his eyes seemed to run over Kat’s body. He gave her a wink, and then pushed through the door.

  “He’s… creepy,” she said after he was gone.

  “Yeah, he’s a little weird, but he’s good with computers, so any time there’s a problem, a crash, or virus, people ask him to help.”

  “I guess that’s handy, but he still gives me the creeps,” she said. Jacob chuckled.

  “Don’t worry, he’s harmless.”

  “If you say so.” Kat took in her surroundings. There was a fireplace in the centre of the wall made of white marble, and comfy looking couches were placed haphazardly around the room. To the left of the room there was a kitchenette and a well-stocked bar, and to the left of that stood a pool table and jukebox.

  “This is awesome,” she said as she took it all in. “I don’t know why I haven’t heard about this yet.”

  “It’s probably because most First Years don’t know yet.” He came up beside her and offered her something. When she looked down, she noticed it was a glass of red wine.

  “Oh, thanks. I love red wine.” She inhaled and took a sip. “Mm, Cabernet Sauvignon,” she said. Jacob looked surprised.

  “You know your wines.”

  “I’m the daughter of wine makers, so I should.” Then they shared a smile and both sipped their wines.

  Scarlett inhaled sharply.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yes. This is amazing, Dyston.”

  “If you’re cold, remember to use your Trait.”

  “Oh, yes. But I’m fine, really.”

  “Good. We’re almost there.” They flew out over the railway line towards the bright lights of Etihad Stadium.

  “Here we are,” he said finally.

  “We’re going to a football game?”

  “Yeah, hope you don’t mind?”

  “No, I’ve never been before.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, you’re going to love it. After this, you’ll be addicted,” he told her. Scarlett held her breath as Dyston flew over the lights and into the mouth of the open roof. Her stomach leaped into her throat as he dipped down and glided around a full revolution of the stadium before setting her down in the grandstand.

  “Our seats are this way,” he said. Dyston led her through some doors, and warm air and food smells immediately struck her.

  “Do you want another wine?” he asked.

  “Sure.” Her voice came out croaky. It must be the cold air, she thought. She had to clear her throat. Dyston grabbed their drinks and led her back outside to their seats.

  “So, is this Angel Ball?” she asked when they had taken their seats.

  “Yeah. Have you ever seen a game?”

  “Maybe once or twice on TV. My Grandfather watched it.”

  “Do you need me to explain the rules?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Okay, so the rules are pretty similar to AFL, except players are allowed to use their wings, so most of the game is played in the air. The two big goal posts in the middle at each end are worth six points, whereas the two on the outside are worth one,” he explained, pointing to the four poles situated at each end of the stadium.

  “So, every seat in the stadium would be a good seat right?”

  “Right.”

  Scarlett took it all in. A few of the players were already on the field. A guy wearing a red and white striped jersey let out his brilliant white wings and leaped into the air, kicking the ball through the colossal goal posts, which were as high as the stadium roof.

  “Wow!” she exclaimed.

  “Pretty amazing, huh?”

  “Yeah. So which one’s your team?” she asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” He smirked, wrapping his black and white scarf tighter around his neck. She smiled back at him. He put his arm around her and she leaned into him just as the siren sounded.

  “I hope you don’t mind, I got one with everything,” Jacob said as he placed the pizza box on the coffee table near the fireplace.

  “No that’s fine, I like everything.” Kat joined him, wine glass in hand.

  “So what’s your Trait?” Kat asked, in between bites of pizza.

  “I’m not going to tell you that,” he teased, taking another sip of wine.

  “Oh, come on! I’ll tell you what I think mine is.”

  “Go on,” he said, relaxing back into his chair, waiting for her to talk.

  “No, it doesn’t work like that, Jacob.” She leaned closer. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

  “Oh, it’s like that, is it?” he chuckled and then sighed. “Fine.” He took the glove off his right hand and touched his wine glass. It frosted up and then began to turn gold.

  Kat gasped. “You have the Midas touch.”

  “Yeah, it’s a worthless Trait if you ask me, unless you want to be greedy and rich.”

  “It’s not worthless,” she whispered. And then she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. Immediately, she felt his lips begin to harden, it was a strange sensation. Her lips began to crack and a moment later, they were fine again. Jacob pulled away and looked at her in shock.

  “What? What happened?” she asked. He was staring at her like she had something on her face.

  “Your lips, they… I shouldn’t have kissed you.” He stood up and turned away from her.

  “Jacob,” she stood up too and put a hand on his shoulder, “tell me what happened.”

  He sighed and turned around to face her. “When our lips touched I turned yours to gold. But then the weirdest thing happened.”

  “What?”

  “Instead of staying gold, they turned to stone. I guess you could say it was kind of like a defence mechanism.”

  “Stone?”

  “Yeah.” He put his glove back on and pushed the hair away from her face, and she forgot to breathe. “Kat,” he whispered, “I believe that is your Trait.”

  When Dyston flew them back to the Academy, he didn’t go through the front door. Instead, he landed on his own balcony. Scarlett realised this too late.

  “This isn’t my room,” she said before he put her down.

  “I know, it’s my room.” He pushed open the French doors and stepped inside the billowing white curtains. Scarlett had no choice but to follow him. Once inside, she glanced around and took it all in. His room was in pretty much the same layout as hers save for the baby grand piano in the corner. His bed was dark mahogany draped in white curtains instead of the red she had on hers. His quilt was white velvet and lace, and Scarlett thought that it looked like clouds. She felt a sudden urge to jump into it, but she restrained herself. Her gaze found Dyston sitting at the piano. She realised he’d been playing a melody that she recognised.

  “What is that?” she asked, taking a seat beside him.

  “Just a melody I haven’t been able to stop playing,” he said.

  “I’ve heard it before.”

  “I was playing it before we bumped into each other in the hall that day.”

  “Maybe that’s where I’ve heard it,” she said, watching his nimble fingers dance over the sleek black and white keys. “Is this the one you wrote?”

  “Yeah. It’s not finished. I still don’t know how to end it,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I heard it once in a dream and haven’t been able to stop playing it since, but I can never make it to the end. It’s as if the end keeps slipping from my grasp.” He sighed, paused, and started playing the beginning of the melody again. “I’ll c
atch it one day.”

  “Does it have a name?”

  “No, but it reminds me of you for some reason, so I’ve been calling it Flame.” Their eyes met while he continued to play, not missing a note. Scarlett smiled and slid closer to him so that her shoulder was touching his arm. She leaned against him. She didn’t know why, but the song felt like an omen. She pushed the thought away and relaxed to the sound of her melody.

  Chapter Six

  Strength

  “The art of fighting is second nature to us,” preached Lakyn as he walked around the Combat Training room. The sound of wood against wood was deafening as the students blocked and parried their opponents with two-metre long sticks.

  “Very good, Kat, Scarlett. Have you two done this before?” he joked.

  “No, sir,” replied Kat, blocking a swing from Scarlett, who had spun to put more force into it.

  Jacob walked into the room and stood at the edge of the mat with his arms crossed.

  “Now, a change of scenery for you two. Kat I want you to take on Jacob here,” he suggested. Kat met Jacob’s eyes with concern. “And then after, Scarlett will have the honour of fighting me,” he told them, meeting Scarlett’s eyes. Did she just see his irises change? She forced herself to swallow. She would not let Lakyn scare her. She promised Dyston that she would hide who she really was, and hide she would.

  Kat matched Jacob’s blocks and parries easily. It was as if they were in sync with each other. They danced around the mat gracefully.

  “Come on, this is boring. Jacob, don’t go soft on her. She’s Katherine the brave, Katherine the strong,” stated Lakyn, as he circled them. Finally, Jacob spun and somehow got his stick behind Kat and pulled her towards him until there was no space between their bodies. Their faces were mere centimetres apart. She thought Jacob was moving in to kiss Kat, but at the last minute, he spun her and moved his stick underneath her throat.

  “Very well done, Jacob.” He applauded. “This, class, is why he is our best fighter.”

  Jacob released Kat, but not before whispering, “Sorry,” into her ear.

  Scarlett knew what was coming. She silently wished she could send a message to Dyston. Then she remembered that she could. She closed her eyes and prayed, hoping that it would work. It was the same way he could put images in her head. If she were really the offspring of an Archangel, she would be able to, as well.

  “Dyston, Lakyn’s making me fight him. Please come. He’s going to try and expose me.”

  Before she could even finish, Dyston had entered the room. She met his eyes, and he gave her a reassuring nod.

  “Ah, perfect timing, baby brother,” said Lakyn, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Come to watch your girlfriend lose?” he teased. Scarlett cringed. What else was he going to try to expose?

  “Not likely,” replied Dyston. “I’ve come to watch her beat your sorry arse,” he teased. There was a collection of oohs around the room.

  Lakyn laughed.

  “Well, you’ll soon be disappointed,” he said as he picked up a stick. Scarlett picked up hers and stood on guard. In one second flat, Lakyn was across the room and right beside her. His stick crashed against hers, making an ear splitting sound. Scarlett praised her fast reflexes and blocked it. She spun around and hit him square in the chest, winding him.

  “Woo, go, Scarlett!” cheered Kat and Thomas. And then she heard Dyston’s voice in her head.

  “He has a weak spot, right at the back of his neck. He was burned. Hit him there.” Scarlett almost dropped her stick. She wasn’t expecting him in her head.

  “Don’t lose focus. He’ll come at you from the right. Anticipate him,” he told her. She wanted to look at him, but she resisted. He was right though. Lakyn swung at her from the right, but Scarlett spun right too, meeting him. She could almost see defeat in his eyes.

  “Very clever, Miss Porter. Has Dyston been training you?” he asked, eyeing his brother.

  “Yes, he’s an excellent teacher. I understand him better than I do you,” she told him. His irises flared, and there it was, she saw it—the green monster. It appeared and she noticed it. She swung her stick around above her head like a helicopter and brought it down behind his neck, pressing it into the damaged skin. He cried out and dropped heavily onto the mat. The class erupted with cheers and applause as she turned to face Dyston. He smiled and clapped as well. She wanted to run towards him and throw her arms around his neck, but she withheld.

  Lakyn rose from the ground. He was fuming. Dyston sensed the rage and immediately, moved in front of Scarlett to block her.

  “Lakyn, control yourself. Not here,” Dyston told him, his voice steady and calm. Lakyn strolled towards them.

  “You,” he stood a few centimetres from Dyston and Scarlett, “watch yourself,” he said and stormed out of the room. Scarlett didn’t know if it was directed towards Dyston or herself. Dyston looked at Scarlett and then at the class, who were standing watching with their jaws on the floor.

  “Class dismissed,” he told them.

  “It’s so dark, I can’t see, Josh. Argh!” Emer screamed as something brushed her arm. She grabbed onto Joshua.

  “It’s okay. It was just me,” he told her.

  “Are we there yet?”

  “Almost,” he told her. And then he felt her fingers slide through his. He grinned to himself, knowing that she couldn’t see him in the dark.

  “Can you give me a hint?”

  “Nope. Just wait a little longer,” he teased.

  “Fine. Oh, it’s cold in here and my voice echoes…” She was suddenly surprised as the room was illuminated. She blinked to adjust her eyes, looking around.

  “We’re in the kitchen?”

  “Yep,” he said, smiling at her.

  “What are we doing in the kitchen? We’re not allowed in here.”

  “I wanted to make you,” he walked over to the pantry and opened it, taking out a few items, “my special hot chocolate,” he told her, grinning. She giggled.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  “No, I just thought, well, a boy like you…”

  “A boy like me, what? Can’t make hot chocolate?”

  “Well, yeah,” said Emer as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

  “Prepare to eat your words, Emerald Rose,” he told her, turning around to make it. Emer was intrigued.

  “You know my last name? I hadn’t told you yet.” She didn’t want to spoil the surprise but at the same time she wanted to be close to him while he did it. She didn’t want to admit it to herself, but she was beginning to fall for him.

  “Yes. And you don’t have to stand so far away Emer, I don’t bite,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. Emer walked towards him, coming to stand behind him. She then leaped up onto the counter. Joshua’s heart jumped, but he tried not to appear nervous, which he had to admit was incredibly hard. Emer always made him nervous.

  “How do you know my last name, Mr Know-it-all?”

  “I saw it on your books,” he replied sheepishly.

  “You put chilli in it?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “You sound surprised. Haven’t you ever had chilli hot chocolate before?”

  “No, is it good?”

  “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried chilli hot chocolate,” he told her, his green eyes meeting hers.

  “Is it ready?” she asked after a moment of staring at him.

  “Oh, yes, sorry,” he replied awkwardly and he passed her a mug. Their fingers grazed. Then a strange thing happened—a picture clouded her view, and all she saw was smoke and fire, and she heard screams.

  A dark figure with black wings watched from a rooftop a few kilometres away.

  Then the scene changed, and she saw Scarlett jogging. She had her iPod headphones in, and she didn’t seem to have a care in the world. That was until a shadow swooped down and consumed her. The next thing Emer noticed was Joshua’s eyes, and she almost dropped her mug. Hot, chocolaty liquid spilled ont
o her wrist. Joshua caught the mug just in time.

  “Emer? Are you ok? What happened?”

  “I… I… don’t know,” she stammered. Joshua got a tea towel from a drawer and wet it. Then he dabbed it on her scalded wrist. Emer winced.

  “Sorry. Want to tell me what happened? You had this expression on your face that I can’t explain.”

  “When I touched your hand… burning… it was burning… and people were screaming. And oh, my goodness, Scarlett!” she cried.

  “What about Scarlett?” he asked, her knees resting on either side of his hips. He dabbed her wrist with one hand and wiped her tears with the other. She hiccupped and looked into his eyes.

  “Josh, I think Scarlett’s in trouble.”

  “We’ll go find Dyston and tell him, okay? But right now I want to make sure you haven’t burnt yourself bad.”

  “It hurts, but it’ll be fine. Thanks, Josh.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. But she didn’t answer him. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed him. Joshua forgot all about the burn and dropped the tea towel on the floor, pulling Emer into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck. And then she pulled back.

  “I have to go,” she told him, pushing away, and jumping off the counter.

  “Emer…” he called. But it was too late. He was now alone in the kitchen.

  Lakyn stormed into his father’s office unannounced.

  “Lakyn, do you ever knock?” complained Zachariah.

  “It’s her,” he growled.

  “Who?”

  “The Legend. He’s hiding her.”

  “Who’s hiding her, Lakyn?”

  “Who else? Your delinquent son. The one who will never be allowed into the Realm of Fire again.”

  “Dyston found the Legend? Where is she?”

  “At this very moment, probably in his deceiving arms.”

  Zachariah sighed and rose from his desk, rounding it and coming to stand beside his eldest son.

  “I somehow knew this would happen. Your brother is unable to finish any task assigned to him. Instead, he spoils them.”