“Okay, well, why are you are here, Radella? Specifically, you.”
“I told you: I have a debt to repay.” Radella looked Abby squarely in the eye. It was an awkward moment. It felt to Abby as if something invisible was thawing between her and Radella.
“Look, you don’t like me and I don’t like you – and don’t try and pretend that you do. But I was spying on that council. I heard about your gross dad.” Radella wrinkled her nose. “Just when I thought your upbringing couldn’t get any worse…”
“Okay,” Abby said, “get to the point.”
“The point is,” she said, “that I heard you saved my life.”
Abby looked at the floor, unsure of what to say.
“Well, you did, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“Look, the stuff that happens in class, that’s one thing, right? But you saved me from death. That’s something else entirely. Do you know how much I adore being alive? Do you have any idea how much I want to live so that I can graduate from the Academy, get my own place and have a room just for my shoes and broomsticks?”
Abby snorted.
“Right. Well. If a pain in the ass like you can pull me out of a fight in which I was going to die, then this should make us square, right?”
Despite how much she detested the girl, Abby grinned. “I suppose it does,” she agreed.
“Right. Good. Because I hate owing anyone anything. Especially people like you. Now get your shit together and follow me. All this soppy stuff is starting to make my toes curl.”
“I haven’t got anything.”
“Good. It means we can get going immediately.”
“How do you propose we get to wherever it is you’re taking me?” Abby asked as Radella peered around the corner of the cell door. “Are you just going to show everyone we meet a ‘little shoulder’?”
Radella didn’t answer, but led her to the door at the far end of the corridor.
“When we get through here,” she whispered, “the automatic lighting will activate through proximity spells.”
“Exactly. So how –”
“Hey, Abby,” said Auran, appearing out of thin air in front of her.
Abby almost disappeared up her own ass in fright.
“What the hell, Auran?”
Auran grinned his bright white smile. “Hold on to my arms, ladies,” he said, crooking out his elbows as if he was about to escort them into a grand ball.
The girls did, and the three of them vanished.
They made their way carefully through the deserted hallways, taking it slow to minimize the noise.
To Abby’s astonishment, Auran led the two girls unerringly toward the corridor containing the underground lake. Abby wondered just how many nights the strange albino guy spent wandering invisibly around.
Auran pushed the door open and walked inside. As soon as the door closed, he told them that, as much as he enjoyed a couple of babes like themselves hanging off his elbows, they could let go. The three of them walked up the hill of shingle that screened the lake from the door and trudged down the other side.
At the bottom of the slope stood Spiridon. His handsome fae face was grave.
“You made it without being seen?” he asked Auran.
Auran nodded. “That is the joy of being invisible, Master Spiridon.”
Spiridon ignored this feeble jest and said, “And you saw no sign of anyone else?”
“Oh, there were a few people about,” Auran said, “but no one that excited any suspicion. No one snooping around, if that’s what you mean.”
“Good, good,” Master Spiridon said in a distracted fashion. “Excellent. I thought there would be at least some impediment to us getting you out of here.”
Abby blinked. “I thought we already got me out of prison. What else is there?”
Spiridon took a breath and said, “You have to leave the Academy, Abby. We have to smuggle you out while we still can. Miss Hightide believes that we have a spy or, more likely, a network of them in the Academy.”
“What?”
Spiridon opened his mouth to reply when they heard the distinctive sound of alarms, the ruckus echoing along the stone passages so that every inch of the Academy was filled with it.
“And now everyone knows that we have an escapee,” Spiridon said, running a hand through his hair. “What fun.”
“How am I supposed to get out of here?” Abby asked. “I mean, I only know that I got flown in here by those crazy little twins. What are we doing down here?” She looked wide-eyed over the expanse of iron-gray water of the lake. “Do I have to swim?”
Spiridon didn’t answer, but turned to Radella. “Radella, if you would be so kind,” he said.
Radella knelt and put her fingers into the soft shale of the little beach. Her face contorted in extreme concentration and she started to recite some verse over and over again, her dark green lips moving ceaselessly and her eyes closed.
Abby watched while roots and branches began coiling out of the bank and twined themselves around each other.
For the first time, Abby realized that Radella wasn’t just an A-class bitch, but she was also an A-class student too. In front of Abby’s eyes, the branches and twigs intertwined to form a rudimentary but sturdy-looking raft. How the young witch was doing this, Abby could not say. It was so far beyond what she would have been able to perform.
After a mere twenty seconds or so, the little craft lay bobbing gently on the surface of the lake. Sweat streamed down Radella’s face as she opened her eyes and surveyed her handiwork. She dabbed at the perspiration with the back of her sleeve and said, “Good thing I didn’t put any makeup on today.”
“Not bad,” Abby said.
Radella gave her a look that might almost have been friendly. Then she said, “I didn’t do it for shits and giggles, girl. Are you going to get on the raven-fucking thing or not?”
Abby looked at Spiridon to make sure that this wasn’t some last trick of Radella’s before they parted ways. Spiridon, however, gave a hasty nod and flapped a hand at her in the universal signal to hurry up. As he did so, though, the pealing of the alarm faltered and crackled and then there was a terrific BOOM that echoed down the corridor. So great was the noise that it shook loose a few stalagmites from the roof, which dropped like giant teeth into the lake. They splashed into the water and disappeared, sending waves jostling the little supernatural craft that Radella had conjured.
“What was that?” Auran yelled.
“Will you just get on the raft already, woman, so we can get out of this place before we’re buried alive!” Radella screamed.
“What was that friggin’ noise?” Auran asked again, his face drawn with concern.
Spiridon looked aghast. “That could only have been one thing,” he said.
“What?” Auran asked.
“You want me to get on that thing?” Abby asked, not listening to the others’ conversation. She was looking at the pretty little boat with a fresh fear – the falling stalagmites would have obliterated the small raft in an instant.
“It was the caffeine supply depot,” Spiridon said, his face gray with worry.
“The what?” Auran asked.
The noise of the massive explosion had faded now, leaving only a perturbing silence in its wake.
“It’s the secure depot in which we store all the caffeine for the entire Academy,” Spiridon explained. “All the caffeine that we use to train recruits, as well as the caffeine that we stockpile for times of war!”
“And that means?” Radella asked.
“Well, it means two things,” Spiridon said. “It means that the Academy is now, to all intents and purposes, bereft of caffeine, which means that there is no way for our Guardians to boost their powers. It also means that, because only qualified, trusted Guardians know the passwords for the depot, that the Supernatural Barista Academy has indeed been betrayed.”
Spiridon gulped, his words hanging in the silent air, like the drif
ting clouds of smoke and dust over a battlefield.
Radella suddenly piped up and said, “Do you think it’s demon related?”
“Of course it’s friggin’ demon related!” Auran said, glancing at Abby as if she might know something about it. Then Auran seemed to suddenly realize what he was thinking and gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” he said. “Nothing like a bit of hysteria to make your common sense fly out the window.”
“Speaking of flying and common sense,” said Spiridon, “lets at least get Abby on her way. There’s no time for us to be standing around chatting. The Academy could be under attack as we speak.”
With that, the fae rose into the air. “Get on the raft, Abby,” he said.
“But –” Abby began, fishing for ways in which she could extricate herself from this.
“Just get on the damned boat, human!” Radella said with her old asperity. “If we’re about to go up there and get roasted, I’d prefer not to pass over to the other side still owing you one. Get on your bloody way so that we can call it even.”
Abby gave her a crooked smile. “We’re already even, you sour bitch.”
Radella stuck her tongue between her teeth. “Good,” she said and, turning away, she started to make her way back up the gravel incline that led out of the cavern.
“Bye, Abby,” Auran said, giving her a small wave.
Abby smiled. She hoped nothing would happen to him. He was a nice guy and a gentle soul and deserved better than to be incinerated by some shit-eating demon scum.
“Bye,” she said, “and thank you. I’ll see you soon.”
Auran winked and faded out of sight.
“All right,” Spiridon said, “I better get up there and see if I can help. We have to find this traitor that’s in our midst!”
Abby stepped onto the little boat and hunkered down, holding on to the side to keep steady. Spiridon rose higher into the air on his beautiful gilded wings and with a great burst, fanned upwind so that Abby’s craft was sent speeding from the shore, borne on a series of little waves.
“Goodbye, Abby!” Spiridon called. “I will miss you greatly!”
“Goodbye!” Abby called back, and then added, “And how do I steer this damn thing? Where am I going?”
Light glittered on the fae’s wings as the little boat bore her away. “Don’t worry,” his voice said, reaching her like a faint kiss on the cheek. “Between the lake and the boat, you’re in good hands!”
Then he was gone, and the shore faded from Abby’s view.
There had been a more than a few times since Abby had joined the ranks of the Academy that she had felt pretty low, but being out in the middle of a vast inland sea, on her own, on what was a beautifully woven mat of twigs, had to be one of the lowest points yet. She had no idea where she was going, no idea as to what was happening behind her. All she could see was the water and, occasionally, a misty glimpse of cliffs off to one side or the other. The roof of the cave had opened up at some point to reveal the vastness of the night sky, dotted and speckled with stars – stars which, Abby realized when she looked up, she had not set eyes on in weeks. The sight of the twinkling gems stuck into the sable firmament brought tears to her eyes.
It had been two hours since she had started on her drifting voyage when the weather began to pick up a little bit. As the swell built, so did the feeling of trepidation. The last thing she felt like doing was drowning, and the sea was acting in a way that suggested that it could be quite tempted into turning into a full-blown storm.
Thankfully, however, the urge seemed to pass, and the sea settled down again. The pall of cloud that had skirted the edges of the horizon floated off and Abby was left alone with the stars and the silence.
She was lying back and toying with the idea of getting a bit of shut-eye when a deep melodious sound echoed up out of the depths, and the next moment, in a great geyser of spume and seafoam, Abby found herself flying through the air.
She splashed down into the water – which was surprisingly warm– about 30 feet from the enormous, horned whale that had sent her raft flipping through the air as it had come up for a breather. Abby had no time to wonder at the cruel humor of the world before a slap of the whale’s tail – which was as wide as a small airplane’s wings – sent a wave of saltwater enveloping her.
Abby managed to steal half a breath as she was sucked under. Through the bubbles and panic, she saw a flash of fins, a shimmer of scales and a mermaid streaking toward her. She couldn’t deal with the insane circumstances any longer. Abby’s vision pinholed, wavered and went black.
Chapter 11
Abby came to, lying on a pile of sea-smoothed rocks, under the pale pink washed sky of dawn. Waking up was a great relief, as her last memory was of drowning in the middle of the ocean.
After taking a few deep breaths, relishing the taste of clean, waterless air in her lungs, she heaved herself into a sitting position. She groaned as her back and neck protested.
Note to self, she thought, don’t bother with massage if you’re going to end up making a bed of a great pile of raven-fucking rocks.
She rotated her neck, groaning even more at the series of crunches and clicks that met her ears. As she stretched, she felt something dangling around her throat. Reaching up, she realized that she was wearing a necklace cunningly crafted of clamshells. Touching it, she experienced a memory of the same necklace hanging around the neck of a mermaid who had been barrelling through the clear waters of the sea. She ran her fingers over the delicate ridges of the clamshells and smiled. The mermaid had clearly saved her from being drowned by that whale, and surely that was a good sign, wasn’t it? Tucking the simple piece of jewelry into her shirt, Abby decided that she’d keep the necklace and take it for a sign of luck.
She had a feeling that she was going to need every bit of luck that she could get her hands on.
She looked down the shoreline. It appeared that she had been delivered to the rocky beach about a ten-minute walk from the fetid waterfront of Rotwood Harbor.
Well, at least I’m not too far from Casey’s place, she thought and, taking a breath of the fresh, salty air, she set off toward the center of Rotwood.
There’s something about a near-death experience that both clears the mind and turns it into a swirling mess of arbitrary thoughts.
So it was that Abby found herself outside Casey’s apartment without the foggiest memory of the walk to her sister’s front door.
“Casey?” she called. “Case?”
Abby knocked sharply. The door swung slowly open, and she pushed it the rest of the way so that she could see down the tight, shabby hallway. It was a disheartening sight. The few pictures on the wall were skewed or had been knocked off altogether. A lamp lay crushed on the floor. The threadbare carpet was wrinkled and there were scratches and marks down the walls, as if someone very wide had had to squeeze to fit through.
There was no sound, so Abby crept into the apartment, taking care not to step on any fragments of broken glass that might give her away. She edged slowly into the living room, quickly glancing around the doorframe to make sure that the coast was clear.
The living room was trashed. The furry whale skin lay in ribbons, the TV was broken in half and the couch was sticking halfway out of the shattered window. Abby noted all this in a second, but what captured her eye was the message. Daubed across the largest wall in the little room were the words,
ABBY
TURN YOURSELF OVER TO THE DEMONS
OR YOUR SISTER MEETS HER MAKER
The words, it appeared, were painted in blood. The letters were not bright red as books and film would have people believe, but a dull brown where the blood had oxidized. It was that specific detail that impressed itself on her scientific mind the most and made her feel queasy.
But whose blood is it? she thought. Can’t be Casey’s if they’re threatening to kill her, can it?
Now that she had been banished from the Supernatural Barista Academy, she doubted very much
whether she could ask them for help. Without them or, more specifically, Miss Hightide, the only other person that she might have been able to turn to for help was the very person that had been abducted. Casey had never been squeamish about helping her sister out of a tight spot, and this was the tightest spot that Abby had ever found herself in – to quote her sister, it was a spot ‘tighter than a fish’s asshole, and that’s watertight.’
Abby was forced to admit that she was left with only a single choice. Admittedly, this made deciding what to do a lot easier, but didn’t detract from the fear that she felt. She would have to hand herself over to the demons and hope that they would agree to let Casey go free. The scientific part of her brain thought that unlikely. Demons were, after all, demons. They could hardly be expected to act decently.
It’s the only way, the scared little voice said inside of her. You have to go and see whether your father – whether Vassago – will keep his word to his daughter.
What a raven-fucking family reunion this is going to be…
She felt slightly better knowing what she had to do, but this feeling was quickly eclipsed by another problem: how to connect with a society of fire-loving demons. Were there certain bars that they frequented? Was there a toll-free number, 1-888-GO-2-HELL maybe?
She had only ever encountered the one demon – that big red-eyed bastard. He had only turned up because Chaz – the raven’s ass of a manager at Flick the Bean – had busted out that bag of pure Mount Hypo-grown beans.
The beans, Abby, the fucking beans! You stashed them in that tree in the park. If they’re still there…
A moment later Abby was sprinting down the road, pushing her way through the sparse foot traffic. The day was still young and most of Rotwood’s inhabitants were still in bed at this hour. It was one thing to stay up all through the night conducting a little ‘business,’ maybe, until the sun rose, but to wake up at dawn to go to work…that was a whole different matter. The only folk who did that regularly were the rugged fishermen who rose with the sun and left with the tide.
Caffeinated Magic: Supernatural Barista Academy Page 15
