London Academy 2

by Klarissa King

  “I am here for the halfbreeds.” Pratt spoke in such a squeaky voice that Piper guessed was intended to be riddled with self-importance. Instead, it resembled the sound of a dog’s chew toy.

  Ash kicked himself from the bannister. “And what would the provost’s personal arse-licker want with the halfbreeds?”

  Pratt turned his cool gaze to Ash. “The answer is in the question.”

  “Good timing,” said Piper. Though, she noticed that he didn’t dispute the label. “We’re both here.”

  Desmond snorted, a derisive yet elegant sound. “It wasn’t a coincidence,” he said. “The provost was waiting for both of you to be in the Academy at the same time. Two pigeons, one meeting, all that.”

  Ash glared at Pratt. “And she sends the git to get you.”

  Pratt curled his lip, a brief crack in his arrogant composure, before he spun around and marched up the stairs. Piper and Kieran frowned at his retreating back until he called over his shoulder, “I don’t hear you following me.”

  Piper rolled her eyes and ran after him; Kieran glanced back at the doors, as if he wanted to leave, but he turned back around and trooped behind Piper.

  Ash stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched Piper leave. His lips had set into a thin line, and his gaze fixed on the sway of her poker straight hair.

  “Are we going to talk, or pretend it never happened?” It was Desmond, still leaning against the banister behind him. There was a hint of pleading that clutched his words.

  Ash turned around to face him. “Either way, it doesn’t matter to me.”

  Something passed through Desmond’s eyes. Ash recognised it, though he’d only ever seen it twice before. It was a guarded wound, a rare slice through Desmond’s icy armour that touched his heart. “If that’s how you want it to be,” said Desmond, “then that’s how it is.”

  Ash scoffed. “You act like I’m the one who put that wedge between us. It wasn’t me, Desmond, and it wasn’t Piper.” He stepped closer to him. “It was put there when you chose not to come with me on that mission to find the Tracer. We are partners,” he said, “and partners go on their missions together. Not once have we gone without each other.”

  “I had a meeting—”

  “Don’t bullshit me.” Ash’s sharp tone sliced through the foyer. “You just didn’t want to go if Piper was coming, too. You can’t accept that she’s in this with us, can you? Not even for me, Des.”

  Desmond’s lips pulled into a sad smile as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I did have a meeting, Ash.” His hand dropped his side, and his palm smacked against his thigh. “Turns out that the rumour of my interest in a dullborn,” he said, “reached the ears of the provost. I didn’t have a choice.”

  Ash frowned. “You didn’t a choice in what?”

  Desmond sighed and looked at the double doors, a glimmer running through his eyes. Was it grief, Ash wondered, or yearning? “My position on the case,” said Desmond, imitating the stone-cold voice of the provost, “has proven to be a risk to the integrity of this Academy, and to our precious laws that I, myself, must uphold as the promising enforcer that I am.”

  Ash’s eyebrows raised. “You were pulled from the case.”

  Desmond clenched his jaw and glanced down at his training boots. “I found out before your halfbreed went mental on me. Athena is appealing the decision on my behalf, but for the time being, I’ve been benched. I haven’t had the chance to talk to you about it—you’re always with Piper, now.”

  “Hey!” A shrill voice shouted from the top of the staircase. Ash looked up to see Piper, hands on her hips, standing at the top step. “Aren’t you coming?”

  “It’s a private meeting. Provost Vale didn’t invite us.”

  “Well,” she said, her hands slipping from her waist. Ash could see the anxiety in her eyes and in the way her jaw ticked. “Where will I find you after?”

  Ash smirked up at her. “No need,” he said. “I’ll come with you if you want.”

  The tick in her jaw stopped. Ash chuckled, a brief jolt of his chest, and jogged up the stairs. The smile slipped from his lips the moment he heard footsteps follow him. Desmond joined them.

  Ash slowed his pace for Desmond to catch up. They walked side-by-side behind Piper. Though, they both knew that the provost would boot them out of the meeting within seconds.

  CHAPTER 13

  Piper squirmed in a leather chair. The button-tufted spine poked into her back; Kieran slumped in the chair beside her. Sunlight warmed the office, lashing in from the stretched windows, and bounced off the glossy mahogany desk. On the other side of the desk was a weedy woman, using her bony fingers to peel papers apart. Her thin grey eyes didn’t lift from the files that she skimmed through.

  “Leave.” Her firm tone gave no space for argument. “I will summon you should I require your presence.”

  Piper twisted in the chair to peer over the back. Ash stood by the door and gave her an I-told-you-so look. Desmond sneered at the provost before he charged out of the office, Ash on his tail. Piper deflated and turned back around to face the stern woman.

  The provost’s office reminded Piper of the library, but with a sophisticated gloss to it. The walls were a golden brown, honeyed from the rays of sun that speared through the panelled windows; they were long and narrow, reaching the engravings on the panels—the same curling words above the cells in the dungeons—and were draped in suede curtains. Behind the desk was a bookshelf filled with the worn-out spines of old tomes and textbooks. Piper, when she’d entered, had found herself to be startled at the technology in the office. A laptop poked out from the stacks of files that littered the desk, the latest smartphone sat beside a cold mug of coffee, and a projector screen was furled up against the wall behind her.

  Though, she mused, there was also a compass—like the one on the second floor—that whirled around in a circle, sometimes fast, sometimes slow; a flower pot with a stem growing from the dirt, the petals glittering like crystals; and, in the corner beside the door, was the Lare in the form of a python, roped around a coat stand.

  A grandfather clock chimed. Piper and Kieran whipped their heads to the right and looked at it. The hands on the clock had ticked over to twelve.

  “Your clock’s wrong,” said Kieran. He checked his Velcro watch. “By about ten hours.”

  The provost flicked a file closed. Her hand smacked down on the manila folder, and she stared at Kieran with eyes like the slits on the python—Lare. “There is much for you to learn, halfbreed,” she said. “That clock shows the time in our homeland.”

  “Homeland?” Piper leaned forward in the seat, her hands resting on her knees. “Where is that?”

  “You will learn our geography at a later time.” The provost descended into her seat with the grace of a swan sinking into calm waters. Her skeletal fingers danced over the papers on her desk until they touched a black sheet and dragged it closer. Her eyes glanced down before she scanned the paper. “Kieran Wilson,” she read aloud, “and Piper Reed. Halfbreeds, born from the wanted fugitive, Colt Stirling.”

  “I was born from my mum.” Kieran’s words bit through the tension. Piper studied him. He was like a smudge of dirt on a crystal vase—entirely out of place, standing out amidst the fancy. She cursed her internal snob and looked at the strict woman. Kieran raised his chin. “My mum made me,” he said, “carried me, birthed me, and fed me.”

  The provost’s disinterested mask remained firmly in place. The tautness of her face, Piper thought, was made worse by her sandy blond hair pulled into a constricted bun at the nape of her neck. Perhaps she was just being judgemental.

  “Semantics,” said the provost. She clasped her hands on her lap. “Now, I must begin by relaying my deepest sympathies. You have both suffered a tremendous loss.”

  Piper stopped her eyes from rolling back into her sockets. The sympathies were robotic, void of emotion and understanding. Piper looked over at the left corner where Pratt was tucked away in a metal cha
ir, taking notes on a clipboard, and wondered if he wrote that down—the lies of apologies.

  “Do you care to tell me how you spent your time away from the Academy?” The provost’s stare was fixed on Kieran. “After we used our resources to heal you, you fled.”

  Kieran shifted in his seat, a light blush creeping along his cheekbones. “I went home.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “I don’t know.” His voice wavered and he looked down at his hands, twisted together. “I just didn’t want to be here, I guess. I wanted to see my mum...my sister.”

  “You were aware that they both passed away, yes?”

  “Yeah.” Kieran nodded. “But I—It didn’t feel real. Like it had all been one bad dream, and if I went home, I would’ve seen them again. I thought...maybe I would find my sister going through my stuff, stealing my video games, and my mum getting ready for work.”

  “But you didn’t.” Provost Vale spoke with complete indifference. “Because they are deceased. And when you did return home, what did you do?”

  “Stayed there for a few hours.” Kieran rolled his shoulders. “Then, I went to a hostel.”

  “Why?”

  “It was...hard,” he said. “Being home without my family, it felt empty. I ended up at a hostel, like I said, and I stayed there for the night.”

  The sound of pen against paper scribbled from the corner of the room. Piper glanced at Pratt before she looked back at the provost as she asked, “What caused you to return to the Academy?”

  Kieran’s eyes betrayed his answer; he looked at Piper.

  The provost nodded and her lips thinned. “You sought family to replace those you lost.”

  “No one can replace my mum and sister,” snapped Kieran.

  Provost Vale smiled, a false gesture, and dragged her stare to Piper. “We already have your report,” she said, tapping the black sheet of paper. “Generously written by Ackley Warwick.”

  Piper cocked her head to the side. She’d never heard of him before. “Who?”

  Provost Vale reclined in her chair, the black leather looming above her blond head. “You may know him,” she said, “as Ash.” Piper’s brow arched and she side-glanced at Kieran. He gazed down at the kangaroo rug, distaste showing in his wrinkled nose. “As I understand it,” said Vale, “Ash has taken you under his wing. He is a respectable mentor to have within this community.”

  Piper shrugged. There were no words of response that came to her mind. She just wanted to get the meeting over with already.

  “I will cut to the chase, shall I?” The provost folded her arms on the edge of the desk and swerved her stare between them. “As halfbreeds, by law I am required to offer you each a place at this Academy to study and to live. Allowances—should they be required—will be provided, as well as boarding and food. Full training will also be offered, but this all comes with a price.” Kieran parted his lips to interrupt, but the provost’s flashing eyes silenced him. “That price,” she said, “is neither more nor less than your duty to our world. You will each be expected to embark on a career within our world at the discretion of myself.” Provost Vale snapped her gaze to Piper. “Your powers, Ms Reed, open several opportunities to you. Fire manipulation can be useful within the ranks of the enforcers, as well as in our homeland. Interrogation may be an option, too.” The provost turned to Kieran. “As for yourself, Mr Wilson, mind reading skills are highly desirable only within the interrogation sector. Though, given your power proves to be considerably weak at this time, I cannot guarantee a fruitful career in which many full-daywalkers dominate.”

  Vale pushed herself from the chair and rose. Her fingers plucked pamphlets from the pile of paper, and waved them forward—they floated toward Kieran and Piper, like leaves caught in a breeze.

  Piper snatched hers from the air and read the title: ‘HALFBREEDS GOING BEYOND.’

  “I have scheduled meetings for the both of you with the careers counsellor of the Academy. Counsellor Strom will run through your options and appoint you to the appropriate mentors and trainers.”

  Kieran leaned forward. “What if we don’t want to join the Academy?”

  “Should you choose to leave the Beyond World,” she said, her voice crisp, “you will rescind your place at the school. Our doors will not be open to you anymore. That is a decision I advise you make carefully.” Provost Vale gestured for them to stand. They did, and her eyes flickered between them. “Everything has a balance,” she said. “You have both lost family, lost people you loved. But, you gained each other and a world in which you belong.”

  Kieran’s eyes reflected Piper’s inner thoughts like a mirror shining back at her: It wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t a price they would have chosen to pay, and they would take it all back if they could.

  “Given the circumstances,” said Provost Vale, “I have been lenient with you both. Thus, I further extend an offer of goodwill—Your decisions will be reported back to me after Colt Stirling has been caught. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Piper, just as Kieran grunted in agreement.

  “Excellent.” The provost’s barbed tone contradicted her words. “I look forward to our next meeting.”

  Piper slid her foot back, ready to turn around and leave. A jolt of frustration struck her, and she stopped, her gaze drifting back to the provost.

  “Since I got here,” said Piper, “I’ve been asked question after question, but when I want answers, there are none to give me.” The provost looked up from her files, a lazy tedium in her blank eyes. “I want to know why,” added Piper. “Why were the cult hunted in the first place? Before they made halfbreeds—what did they want?”

  Kieran glanced between Piper and Vale, until he slinked closer to his newly found sister. Piper noted the show of support.

  “Ackley Warwick hasn’t filled you in on their history?” asked Vale.

  “He told me that they broke laws,” she said. “Mainly the one about creating halfbreeds.”

  The provost smiled, but it lacked sincerity. “The cult,” she began, “was formed many years ago. How long ago, we cannot be certain—they operated in secret, you see, among us.”

  “In the Academy?” asked Kieran.

  Vale inclined her head. “And other Academies, too. They hid within the ranks of enforcers and interrogators. Prisoners began to disappear, some were found dead. Sacred literature from the Scripter Crypts were stolen, artefacts from our museums were taken. These events continued for months, until the investigation discovered those responsible. Colt Stirling was one of them.”

  Kieran shifted his weight to lean back against an armchair. He folded his arms over his chest. “But he got away.”

  “He did,” said Vale. “We unearthed dozens of members who believed to be a part of this cult. Their crimes were not horrendous at the time—they dabbled with evidence, and interfered with investigations, but they would not be executed. They would be put on trial in the First City. Though, that appeared too dangerous for the ones we discovered. They fought our enforcers when they came for them. Many died, on both sides. Colt fled, as did others from Academies around the Beyond World.”

  “How many?” Piper said. “How many escaped?”

  “As far as we know, eight.” The provost’s hands flattened against the edge of the desk. “We searched the possessions of those who did escape, the ones who left their belongings behind. In Colt’s chambers, we found a trunk. And in that trunk, were stolen scrolls and literature from the Scripter Crypts. Everything detailed—or at least mentioned—the Divine Artefacts.”

  “The Divine what?” said Kieran, his nose wrinkled.

  “Artefacts,” said Vale. “They are mythological objects from fairy tales, as real as Cinderella’s glass slippers, or Snow White’s coffin.”

  Piper’s brows shot up to her hairline. The provost’s knowledge of human fairy tales wasn’t expected.

  “It appeared that the cult stole scriptures in a search for the location of these non-existe
nt Artefacts.” Vale waved her hand toward them. “Now, they have turned their mission into something we do not know of; a mission that somehow involved halfbreeds. Rest assured,” she added, “we will find the cult, and we will stop them.”

  Piper nodded once, a firm gesture, before they left.

  CHAPTER 14

  Ash was in the corridor outside of the provost’s office. A breath of relief escaped her lips as she saw him, lounging against the wall, smacking his thumbs against his phone.

  Kieran shut the door behind them with a click. Ash looked up, the glow of the screen dancing over his square jaw.

  “How did you like our provost?” Ash’s light tone gave away his own thoughts on the Academy leader.

  “Oh, she’s lovely,” said Piper with a scowl. “We could be best friends in future.”

  Kieran scoffed behind her and glowered down at the pamphlet in his hand.

  Ash kicked himself from the wall. “What did she say?”

  “A whole lot of nothing.” Piper shrugged, ramming the leaflet into her back pocket. “Though,” she added, “she did say we don’t have to make our choice until after Colt is caught. So there’s that.”

  Kieran huffed through his nostrils. “Not even sure we’ll catch that nutter.”

  “We will.” Ash raised his chin and smirked. “We’ve got his pet Tracer, and we’re inching closer. Closer than we’ve ever been before.” Kieran didn’t look convinced. “Come on,” said Ash. “I’ll show you to your room.”

  Kieran glanced at Piper. “Are you staying here, too?”

  “I have been. Where else can I go?” Piper wondered if he was searching for words of reassurance from her. She had none to give.

  “This way.” It was Ash; he turned on his heels and strode down the corridor. Piper and Kieran trailed behind. “The boy’s quarters,” said Ash, “is in the left wing. We live in the cottages out of the main building, but since you’re not officially a student, you’ll be in the temporary boarding suites.” He looked over his shoulder at them. “Don’t get used to having your own private bathroom—that’s revoked once you move into the hamlet outside.”