And as such, people born with abilities came about naithe—or blessed. At first, it started as a gentle murmur, children born from parents of no abilities, and it spread through Kiero like wildfire, tainting what started out as awe into madness. He didn’t believe that they were chosen, but the myths of the Warriors curled around his heart, tucking it away, and only allowing himself to hope on those nights in the woods, that they weren’t gone from their world.
Maybe it was futile, but he had no other ideas, and as he whispered those words into the icy wind, he clenched his eyes shut, his heart lodged in his throat.
For a moment, the very world seemed to hold its breath, the clashing of the war raging beyond them.
“Brokk.”
He froze, straining against his imagination, but there again on the wind, his name was whispered like a gentle caress. With a racing pulse, he allowed his senses to float beyond him.
“Brokk, find a way back.”
Fear tore through his chest, but he couldn’t stop himself, as he dove into his ability. At first, he was met with nothing, the enhanced metal having neutralized him. But there, underneath that void curtain, a flickering ember pulsed, straining to be there.
He did not falter as he slammed into it, and the world exploded.
Catching a glimpse of Memphis, who was looking at him, waiting for an answer, then fractured light erupted around him, and Brokk was falling. His scream ripped through him, and he was blinded by the swirling of light but also of memories. It was like standing on a hillside, watching the world spin into rewind, time having no meaning anymore.
“They will think all is lost.” Brokk dove toward Bresslin’s voice, not fully understanding what this part of him was, but he trusted it. Because he trusted himself.
“And they will watch as we destroy everything they love,” Gortach grumbled. “You aren’t afraid they are more powerful than you think? Especially the shifter?”
Bresslin smiled. “The only way they could get out of their restraints is if they knew the spell protecting it, wouldn’t they? It would be impossible for them to know that saying ceol would transfer the energy consumed by the metal back into them.”
Gortach rumbled a laugh as Bresslin brandished her sword in front of her. “It’s time.”
Brokk felt like he was being wrenched back, diving back into that sea of endless blinding light; the energy crackled around him, and he could sense it, the currents raging around him, and he was falling again.
Howling wind surrounded him as his eyes flew open, forcing himself to take in the scene. Brilliant slashes of gold, silver, and blue dove around him, like waves crashing against the shore, flashing and roaring in their spectrum. He was afraid but also mesmerized as one voice above all the rest stood out, “Brokk.”
Brokk dove toward the echo of Emory’s voice. She was his anchor, leading him back into reality. She was in trouble—and Brokk would be damned if he let anything happen to her, today or any other day.
Emory had known he had this...this time-traveling ability. In his heart, he had known but had always pushed it away, not allowing the part that he didn’t understand to dictate his life. A sharp ringing filled his senses, and the light fractured and splintered once more, and he was slammed back into his present body. To a gaping Memphis by his side.
“What the hell...”
Brokk said, low and harshly, “Ceol.”
The metal shuddered to life, the collars vibrating against their throats, and Memphis cursed by his side, putting most of his vocabulary to shame. Heat flared along his wrists and his throat, as the shackles fell, allowing his ability to stir once again.
His ebony claws slid back into his skin; his canines clicked back into his gums; and his body was no longer stuck, half shifted and broken.
Running over to Memphis, he murmured “ceol” and as Memphis fell, he turned to face the Academy, the smell of decay and the sharp tang of metal consuming his heart, as he shifted back to his wolf form.
Brokk was not one to take being chained like an animal lightly.
My name is Brokk Foster, and I will not break.
Shakily, Memphis came up to his side, his hand resting on his golden fur. “After all is said and done, you are going to tell me how you knew...” he trailed off, not able to find the rest of his words, his bruised face swelling with every second.
Brokk knew what he wanted to say but couldn’t, and he growled in response.
“My thoughts exactly.” Memphis climbed on his back, whispering in his mind. “To war?”
“To Emory,” Brokk thought.
Memphis climbed on his back, thinking aloud, “I don’t have any weapons.”
“You are a weapon.”
And then they were running.
Breaking through the tree line of the forest, Brokk dodged viciously as a dabarne rolled in front of them, covered in thick vines, wrapping and growing, as Brokk recognized the first-year student who fiercely assaulted the monster, sweat collecting on her brow as she concentrated, the ground shuddering.
Flinging his weight forward, he pushed off his haunches, cutting through the air, and caught the knife sailing through the air directly at her back. The blade broke in his jaws.
The courtyard raged around them, students attacking the army of hundreds, the darkness pushing in on them from every side, every angle. Screams overlapped through the ice, ash, and blood. All around him, bodies dropped beneath ebony claws, through razor sharp teeth and ear-splitting roars.
“On your left!”
Spinning, Brokk watched Memphis launch himself off his back, meeting the charging sleek body, its elongated nose pulled back over its teeth. Landing hard, he felt the wave of energy leave Memphis, and then it froze, hissing viciously.
Brokk threw himself at the creature’s throat, ripping out its jugular as it thudded to the ground, cracking the ice with its weight.
Fire blazed behind them as Memphis sprinted toward Brokk’s back, and a first year charged the line, fearless.
Brokk galloped, and Memphis flung himself on him, and soon, they were weaving through the battle. Gripping his fur, Memphis raged against the creatures’ minds, each wave like a shooting arrow landing a killing blow.
Everything was spattered with gore; bodies of his fellow classmates were lying on the snow encrusted ground. Wave after wave, the dabarnes’ attacks were relentless. Bleak shock coursed through Brokk, trying to register the war around him, that they were losing.
Suddenly, a dabarne appeared to his left, its inky talons moving too fast for him to jump out of the way, as it connected with his side. Talon ripped through flesh and fur, all the way down, exposing his rib.
Brokk’s vision dipped as he almost passed out from the pain. Relief came as he healed, but he tripped when the dabarne took its opportunity to attack. Rolling, Memphis was thrown off, and the beast snapped at Brokk’s throat with ferocity. Kicking his back legs to connect with the dabarne’s gut, Brokk threw the beast over his body, forcing it to roll.
Gaining his footing, Brokk lunged toward the enemy, but Memphis was already there, blood trickling down his nose as he snapped the dabarne’s neck with his mind. Running back to Brokk, Memphis clambered on his back once again.
His muscles were on fire as he galloped, twisting and jumping through the remains of the courtyard, and he wanted to stop, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to scream.
“NO!” Bresslin’s voice cut through the fight. Pushing faster, Brokk’s nails clawed into the ice as they scrambled up the stairs, the force of the army charging behind them.
“Get inside now!!!” Memphis roared to the remaining students, and the cries as they tried to follow broke Brokk’s heart. He couldn’t look back as he charged through the open doors. Memphis slamming them shut behind them.
Brokk shifted back and threw up, the force and sting of the acid burning his throat.
“Brokk, we have to go now. Find Emory. No one else made it.”
The hallways of the Academy were eer
ily quiet, the lights flickering faintly. The pounding outside grew, and all Brokk could do was stare at the floor.
Looking up, he met Memphis’s gaze, dead in the eye. “You have to find her. We will never out chase them. I can hold them off for as long as I can... but find her.”
Memphis crossed the space between them. “And what, leave you to die? You’ve got to be kidding me. Now is not the time for some noble sacrifice!”
Brokk could feel the force shiver up his spine, into his bones. “You have to.” Not looking back, he shifted and then exploded through the oak doors. The wind shrieked, snow stinging his eyes, and he howled, the sound ominous and haunting.
“Run, Memphis.”
He launched himself forward, landing heavily at the base of the stairs. Shifting back, he quickly picked up a discarded sword, gripping the hilt as he strained against the storm.
A sword slashed down toward his chest, missing him by a hair’s breadth, as he raised his blade to meet it, sparks flaring between them.
“You are becoming more annoying by the minute, Mr. Foster.” Bresslin pushed against him, making him bow as ice ran up his forearms and up the blade. She smiled. “You are only hindering the inventible. But I am curious to how you and Mr. Carter escaped your restraints.”
He didn’t answer, as he ducked, slicing at her shins and making her step back.
She mused, “You never were one for many words, were you? A pity, to end up like your classmates after all.”
She charged, slamming the blade down, and his arms became numb from each block, the vibrations crawling up his skin. She was relentless, as the gleaming edge carved and dove toward him, missing him only by an inch. The storm picked up as he slipped, and then rolled as Bresslin’s sword cracked through the ice with ease. Right where he had been.
Charging, he connected with her waist, and they rolled, Brokk trying to pin her. Her boots connected with his chest, and he was sent flying. Shifting as he landed, his claws dug into the ice, screeching with the impact. All around them, in a tight circle, the dabarnes watched him, drool dripping from their maws, their yellow eyes eagerly waiting for the command to end him.
“Enough. Do you really think you could win against us? This is so much bigger than you could ever dream, little shifter.”
His growls cut low and deep as he took the first step, his hackles raised, baring his teeth.
She shrugged, taking him in. “You have a valiant heart; I will give you that much.”
Pushing off and thundering toward her, his heart broke with every footfall.
Bresslin smiled, and she snapped her fingers, the storm ceasing. The snowflakes hung in the air, transcending gravity, gleaming like diamonds in the afternoon light. Each intricate pattern was amplified as the sun touched the defined edges, shining like stars among the carnage.
Flattening his ears, Brokk faltered when Bresslin whistled merrily. The ranks of demons split - they created a pathway of savagery, and his world tilted as Gortach loped down toward him, Emory chained and in tow behind him.
Shifting back, Brokk sprinted for her, roaring. Fear encompassed him at the sight of Emory, bloodied and chained. It sent him spinning and seeing red. “What did you do to her?” he screamed as Bresslin prowled around him, assessing his reaction.
Bresslin tutted. “I take offense that you think I would chain and beat our beloved heir. I have other means to get my hands dirty. This was all too easy, betraying Nei and Roque who trusted Cesan and me to blindly follow them. Why share in the wealth when we could seize an entire kingdom from them?” She rolled her eyes. “And this legendary school is laughable. None of you have known true loss, pain. No one here was prepared for the weight of war, even with your abilities. Coddled children aren’t soldiers, even if you were all told you are.” She smiled, bright and sharp. “You have lost; the Academy is fallen. Your heir was found trying to flee, to leave you all to your fates.”
Gortach had reached them, and Emory would not meet Brokk’s gaze. Silent tears slipped down her cheeks, and Bresslin grazed the sword’s end underneath her chin, forcing her to look up. “I was very upset to see someone had beaten me to the pleasure of killing your parents.”
All he saw was red.
His fist slammed into Bresslin’s stomach, his left connecting with her jaw in a sickening crack. She laughed darkly, spitting blood as he stood there. Brokk’s chest heaved, and his mind reeled with what she had just said.
“Ah, I finally touched a sore spot. Yes, it’s true, the King of Kiero is dead, along with his weak wife. It is finally time true leaders step up to the task of ruling this country.”
Emory’s chin wobbled, but her voice was strong. “My parents were not weak.”
Gortach snapped the chain attached to her collar, wrenching her back, and Brokk could not resist the current of wrath that burned in his blood.
His world was one of tooth and claw, of instinct and reaction. The ground shuddered underneath him as the dabarnes lunged at him, Bresslin giving the order with the swipe of her sword. Emory was pulled back, screaming his name when he charged toward her, straight into the heart of darkness itself.
Sharp teeth pierced and ripped into his haunches, but he leapt, missing another set of talons swiping at his heart.
The dabarnes were fast.
But he was faster.
There were maybe fifty in front of him, the rest falling behind. He snarled as they stomped their feet in dominance. Emory was maybe ten yards away. The creatures bared their teeth, racing toward him. Pushing faster, his surroundings becoming a blur.
Five yards.
The thick torso of a creature slammed into him, crushing the wind of out of chest, pinning Brokk to the ground, almost at the forest’s edge. Its teeth snapped at his throat, but sinking his back talons into its hide, he pushed down, slicing clean through.
Rolling, he leapt over the body only to be met midstride by talons sinking into his haunches and teeth into his shoulder. Brokk’s howl pierced through the air. He was almost at the woods.
All he could smell was the blood and decay dripping from their jaws. Panic settled into his chest as his body felt drained from healing repeatedly, as the monsters around him feasted on his pain. Sinking their talons into his side, his ribs cracked and shattered underneath their pressure. He thrashed, the vital drive to survive thrumming in his blood. All that he saw was gleaming teeth as they closed in on him, his howls tearing through him.
No, no, no!
He felt the shudder roll through the ground first. The dabarnes stopped, raising their heads, distracted by something or someone else. The group hissed around him, wrenching their gazes from their killing blow. Ears twitching, he craned his neck and caught a glimpse as the doors of the Academy exploded off their hinges. Adair stood in the doorway, smoke curling around him.
At first, he just stood there, his mother and the army thrown off as he looked at the ground. Fear lurched through Brokk when he heard the throaty chuckle.
Adair looked up, grinning, and the world erupted into mayhem.
Chapter Nineteen
Adair
Adair bowed to the dark magic commanding him, and it was intoxicating. The winter wind bit at his skin, but he didn’t feel the cold. He didn’t feel anything. The shattered doorframe lay around him, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe, as he stared at the blood-stained stairs, and the carnage of monster and students sprawled around him.
The smile tugged at his lips as he looked up to the hundreds of dabarnes, tilting their head, assessing him. And what he was.
“It was such a waste, their power.”
The voices curled around his mind, burning into his heart. He honed in to the one person that would answer for this.
His mother moved through the ranks with a lethal ease, her voice breaking over her ranks with cool indifference. “Adair.”
In the confines of his mind, he was pounding against the bars, shattering apart, screaming, Why did you do this?
The air
stirred around him, and the ice started to melt underneath his feet.
“I will admit, I’m surprised you’re still alive,” Bresslin said.
You don’t mean that; you don’t mean that; you don’t mean that.
Ice tore through his veins, and he could taste the power lingering beneath his skin, tasting it on his tongue. “Your father and I had every detail planned meticulously for years.”
Mom, please, no. Don’t do this. Not you. Not everyone.
“You are weak, have always been ruled by your heart, and couldn’t see what we were doing before your very eyes,” she continued.
The energy exploded from his chest, suctioning the air in tight around him and then expanding, the remaining windows shattering behind him from the force. The army was flattened from the impact, shards of ice and glass cutting into their hide. Bresslin was bowed, a shield of ice flaring up around her. Walking down the stairs, the wind picked up, and he shivered in pleasure.
“Enough,” she growled, ice cracking, jagged shards breaking apart, becoming long spears churning slowly in the air.
All of them were aimed at his heart. She roared to the army around her churning restlessly, “NOW!”
Not one moved.
The magic within him hummed and thrashed until the energy was too much, his body withering and overpowered.
Letting go, the world erupted into flames.
Brilliant, emerald fire roared around them, enclosing the army and his mother in the flames and bending to his will. He paused at the edge of the ring, his heart pounding against his ribcage. He saw his mother yell, the words lost to him as the spears of ice sliced through the air. A flicker of movement at the end of the courtyard caught his attention, and Gortach slithered in the shadows, a slim shadow being dragged behind it.
The fire hissed as the water evaporated. Gortach was pushed from his mind, and all he could think about was the scene in the dining hall, remembering what he had started.
Heir of Lies (Black Dawn Series Book 1) Page 20
