Discovery: Olde Earth Academy: Year Two

by Amabel Daniels

Merlin barked.

  “Layla!” he called again.

  I could hardly breathe fast enough, let alone summon the power to reply.

  The female longma flew at the sabre-tooth tiger at the same time it launched into the air to get her. More roars surrounded us and I feared a whole damn herd was coming. The female longma screeched as they crashed together, and the force of the tiger leaping into the air punched them behind me, toward the forcefield she’d just been liberated from. Snarls, growls, snapping of sharp teeth, and grunts rolled into a blur of noise as they fought.

  “Don’t let it kill her!”

  I jerked my head toward Bateson’s yell. She came running onto the ledge and pushed past Wolf. He tried and failed to grab her, and he came running closer.

  “I’m on it. I’m on it.” A man spoke then. From the other side of the forcefield plot. I didn’t recognize the speaker, but the slight accent had me narrowing my eyes. An Aussie? Like Lorcan?

  “Stu! Lower the intensity. Now!” Bateson ordered at him.

  “I’m. On. It! Jesus, I’m not deaf.” A redheaded man stepped toward the sabre-tooth and the female longma fighting on the platform. My longma leaped back into the sky and hurtled toward the man.

  “Ohhhh, shit.” He dropped the tablet he’d been consulting and swung around a bow that had been hanging from his back.

  Bow. Arrow, as he loaded it. Stu, don’t you dare!

  I gnashed my teeth and ran up the incline for him. The arrow still trapped in my thigh stabbed fire through my body with each step, but I couldn’t stop. “No!”

  At my yell, Wolf appeared, also rushing for Stu as he aimed for my longma. Wolf tackled him and someone’s boot kicked the tablet away. I fell, exhausted from the pain, and scrambled toward the screen. I didn’t know what it was for, but if Stu was using it, it had to be for something bad. Something that controlled these tigers?

  Before I could reach it, another slightly smaller sabre-tooth tiger launched for me. I rolled away, screaming each time the remnant of the arrow dug deeper into my leg. Then I was falling. Sliding. Right over the edge of the rocky surface.

  “Layla!”

  That time it was Flynn, but he was too far away. I dug in with my fingers and nails, trying to gain purchase as I slid down a gradual slope that was at a higher elevation than the longma’s forcefield space, but at a ledge that had me dangling to a drop-off of the mountainside.

  A narrow cleft in the rock was all I could grip with one hand, but it was more than enough. For now. Gasping through the agony of my injury, I held on as tight as I could and prayed I wouldn’t fall.

  Just hold on. Hang on. Don’t let go and hold on.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Wolf and Stu fought. The longmas battled the sabre-tooth tigers. Bateson ran toward the forcefield. Chaos. It was a bloody, confusing war of chaos.

  Merlin tried to defend Wolf, but Stu got the upper hand, using his bow as a weapon to strike my mentor and his dog. “Screw you, Wolf,” he said as he kicked my mentor in his stomach. The redhead got to his feet and rushed for the tablet he’d lost.

  “Lower the intensity before he kills her!” Bateson ordered. “But keep her there until we can get the cage up.”

  “I know!” Stu snapped as he picked up the tablet. Bateson dropped to her hands and knees and shoved at the long branch that had disrupted the forcefield.

  “What the hell is going on?” Lorcan.

  I winced as I struggled to hold on. Lorcan? Why couldn’t Wolf have made sure he stayed back, away from danger?

  My fingers ached and with the sweat and grime, I lost a little more of my grip.

  Please, someone help me.

  No one could. A sabre-tooth snapped and snarled at me from above. I turned to see the others. Wolf, Lorcan, and Flynn were reversing with their backs to each other, as they were surrounded by tigers. Merlin weaved around the female longma’s legs as she tried to defend herself. Thank God the rest of the class wasn’t near.

  “Nothing that concerns you, little bro,” Stu called out.

  “Trackers? On tigers?” Wolf narrowed his eyes as he probably tried to use his energy to connect with the ancients.

  Yeah, ain’t happening. I tried.

  Bateson laughed once as she strained to move the log. “Lorcan! Flynn! Help me move this.”

  “The hell they will!” Wolf answered. “What have you done to the tigers?”

  “A little joint project Griswold and I brainstormed. The collars manipulate their neurotransmitters so they won’t be receptive to elven control. They’re being conditioned to reject Pure power.”

  “Goddammit, Bateson!” Wolf roared.

  “Got it,” Stu said. As he spoke, the sabre-tooth tiger the longma was fighting backed off. Three others helped surround her, and she retreated to the center of her forcefield plot, licking at her wounds, dark, beady eyes warily eyeing her captors. So many of those beasts were swarming to the site. Too many of them for us to hold back—if we could communicate with them.

  “Then get over here and help me clear the cage sensors.” Bateson gave her all into removing the wood and as Stu went to help her, Lorcan dashed at him.

  “Help…” I whispered. I saw Flynn staring at me, blocked by the tigers. My longma cried out yet he was kept by other beasts trying to get at Wolf and Flynn.

  Please…help… I blinked to clear the sweat—maybe it was tears—from my vision and my head ached. My leg dangled like a hot, numbing, useless limb. Heat spread from the blood rushing to exit and I concentrated all my thoughts on my arm, my fingers, tethers to the rocky hold I had.

  “Lorcan, no!” Stu yelled.

  The brothers fought on the ledge at my side. God, how could Lorcan get past the mind-warped tigers?

  I can’t hold on… I was a runner. I had crap for upper body strength.

  Then a cold sliver eased onto my finger. So hot and strained, my digits were instantly cooled. Chilled, like ice threading over me.

  I strained to look up instead of over at the struggles and violence to my left. A dark-green line inked along my knuckle. I blinked again. And again. Another line. Shockingly cold and tiny. A string of iciness. Yet it pulled on me. It tugged, almost to the point of slicing into me, and as soon as pain pricked from the tightness, another line appeared on another finger, supporting the strength of the first line.

  What is this? The lines came from a slit in a crevice of the rock. More and more refreshingly cool—

  Vines. Thin, barely-there vines were growing over my hand. They webbed together, making a lacey trim up over my knuckles, knotting and weaving over my hand. Slowly and steadily, the vines multiplied and spread until I had almost a sleeve of vines up to my elbow.

  Oh, my God.

  I wanted to let go so badly, my fingers barely able to even circulate blood for how long I’d been gripping with them. Then as the vines webbed even thicker around my elbow, I had to let go.

  And I was tethered.

  By strings. With threads of icy vines, I was secured.

  Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. As the vines slowly edged over my arm, I could relax my fingers and wiggle them to get blood rushing in. And then I twisted my wrist so I was holding onto the collecting vines as though it was a rope. I brought my other hand up to grip, and the vines encased around it too.

  “Give me the tablet!” Stu yelled.

  Tied now, by the vines, I glanced over as Lorcan took the tablet and tossed it to Wolf. “Shut them off. Whatever’s growling at us, shut them off.”

  As soon as Wolf had the device, he frowned, and seemingly trusting Merlin and my longma for defense, he tapped at the screen. “Cease!” he ordered the tiger closest to him.

  The beast shook its head and backed up a step. Maybe the collars were being shut off.

  “So now, if I can just order this one away…” I glared up at the tiger. “Back off. Now.”

  It growled and then was swept off the mountain by my longma headbutting it. He flew over to pick off more of the
m. Yet, as the tiger was shoved over, his claws dug into my vines, cutting them, and I tilted lower.

  “No.” I choked on my breath and grimaced at the pull on my shoulder. Back to one hand again. I couldn’t hang on. I gritted my teeth and stared at the rocky wall my face was smashed to.

  “Layla!”

  I looked up and my jaw dropped.

  Sabine. Lying on her stomach and reaching for me. “Give me your other hand!” Her blonde curls curtained her face upside down as she lowered to get me. “The hell— You’re— Give me your other hand!”

  I swung, trying to get to her, but even that action wore on me. I was too hurt. Lost too much blood. So, so tired.

  “You’re hanging here in mid-air. Holding onto a frigging invisible rope. I can’t even begin to believe this crazy shit, but I know I’m not letting you fall, dammit.”

  I swallowed hard. She couldn’t see the vine.

  An ancient species of a vine. It grew to me because I’d called to it. She can’t see it. Recharged at this reality, I focused on the image of the vine. Ropes. Being tethered. And the vines grew again. Check yourself. All right. I was scared. Tired. Injured. And I did not want to fall. I centered my thoughts on an imaginary rope pulling me to safety.

  But if she couldn’t see the vine. She can’t see the tigers, either. No ancient species. So she couldn’t know they were surrounding her. Even with Wolf disabling their collars, they were beasts—confused, volatile, and able to attack.

  “Look out!” Flynn yelled it as he rushed for Sabine, tackling her and knocking her to near Stu, where he was again struggling with Wolf for the tablet.

  “Dammit.”

  I drew in a breath and felt so lightheaded. I couldn’t… Hang on. Stay awake. I blinked hard and tried to envision the vines growing.

  “Layla!” Flynn’s face appeared over me. “Hang on.”

  “No.” Deep breath. “Shit.”

  He set his hand to the beginning of the thin vine and furrowed his brow. A shot of iciness zipped along the vines on my skin and he growled. He ripped his bracelet off and then put his hand back. More and stronger iciness spread forth, but my skin was tingling everywhere. Like a lazy prickle of losing circulation and falling asleep.

  “Focus, Layla. Focus on it.”

  The vine? Holding on? Where’s my longma? I licked my lips and I thought I nodded, but my head seemed to loll to one side.

  “Here,” Marcy said.

  Oh, hey, Marcy. Join…the…fun…

  “Stay awake, Layla!” She set her hand down to the vine and coolness shot along my skin, but it flickered, like I was losing transmission.

  Growls sounded, and Marcy huffed. She jerked her chin at Flynn, telling him, “You keep them back. I think Wolf’s shut off the transmitters again. I’ll hold on to her.”

  After he shot one more worried glance at me, he turned, facing the tigers.

  He could interact with them now?

  Marcy reached both hands down and gripped the vines, but wasn’t near enough to get me. “Layla. Stay awake. Focus on the vines. Call to…”

  Huh?

  My feet kicked against the rocky wall as I slid down a foot.

  “Layla!”

  As I sank deeper and deeper into the comfort of sleep, the promise of blacking out, the chilly touch of the vines faded in and out. My energy, physically, mentally—anything—was kaput. I was passing out.

  “I can’t hold…” I swallowed. “On.”

  Before I could ease into the terrifying yet thrilling freedom of being airborne, Flynn launched over the edge and tried to grab my hand.

  To Be Continued in

  Mastery

  Acknowledgments

  For editing, I thank Expression Editing, and C.J. Pinard at www.cjpinard.com. For the cover design and photography, I thank Kellie Dennis at Book Cover By Design at www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk. For the lovely model, I thank Imogen Carey. For proofreading, I thank Cat at Cat’s Eye Proofing and Promo.

  For all the encouragement and suggestions, and cheerleading, I thank a great team of betas: Crystal, Allyson, Kirsten, and Rachel.

  About the Author

  Amabel Daniels lives in Northwest Ohio with her patient husband, three adventurous girls, and a collection of too many cats and dogs. Although she holds a Master’s degree in Ecology, her true love is finding a good book. When she isn’t spending time outdoors, or wondering how to negotiate with her mightily independent daughters, she’s busy brewing up her next novel, usually as she lets her mind run off with the addictive words of “what if…”

  For more information about Amabel’s work, please stop by www.amabeldaniels.com.

  Subscribe to my newsletter here!

  Other Books by the Author

  Better Than the Best

  Appetite of Envy

  Resisting Redemption

  Covert Identities

  Don’t Go Back

  Indeed

  Always Was

  Flawed Plan

  Across From You

  Next To Me

  Secrecy

  Discovery

  Mastery