Shadow Weaver: The Nightwatch Academy book 2

by Cassidy, Debbie

  “You might not like what you find.” Despite my firm stance, my voice came out small and unsure.

  “And you might find me intolerable, but we’re family, and we will find common ground.” He pursed his lips for a moment as if searching for words. “I know Baron was … hard on you.”

  I let out a snort.

  “But I’m not Baron.”

  “But you were friends.”

  His smile was sad. “For a while, yes. But it was always Lea that bound us. We were both in love with her, but Baron knew I couldn’t be with her. It was a complicated time, and once it was over, we drifted apart.”

  “And what will happen to you now? What will happen when your family finds out you have a nightblood daughter?”

  His smile was sad. “Nightblood and weaver,” he corrected. “You’re both, and I don’t know what that will mean. But I’ll deal with it when the time comes. For now, I want to get to know you.” He climbed down the stairs and looked up at me. “How about a walk outside?”

  I had a whole week before term started, and now I knew exactly how I wanted to spend it.

  Five

  I stood by the ornate arch that led to the weaver wing and stared up at the carvings etched into the stone, noting the eggshell cracks that spread like a net across the surface of the gray rock.

  How old was this place?

  “You going to be okay?” Harmon asked.

  I made a face. “I hope so. I mean, it’s just one class a week. How bad can it be?”

  “And we leave for the fortress in a few hours,” Harmon reminded me.

  My stomach bubbled with excitement and nerves. “Yeah. You guys best not leave without me.”

  “Like hell. Thomas and I will be here to pick you up in a couple of hours.”

  I gave him two thumbs up and a close-lipped smile before stepping through the arch. My wrists flared with sharp pain, a blinding light assaulted me, and then I was stepping into a circular room with a high domed ceiling. Shelves filled with vials and books lined the walls, and several desks with high-backed stools were clustered in the center of the room. Most of the desks were occupied by students who turned to stare at me, the intruder. I rubbed my wrists, which still tingled where the cuffs met my skin, and glared back at the cadets in the room.

  Weavers.

  The group from the foyer. The exact same fucking group.

  Kill me now.

  “How did you get in?” Kash asked. But his tone was more curious than annoyed.

  Fiona touched his sleeve. “Maybe she came to finish what we started in the foyer the other day.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “As much as I’d like to rearrange your face, I’m afraid I’m here to study.” I strode up to the nearest desk and took a seat.

  There was deathly silence, and then my desk shot away from me. It slid across the room and toppled over, landing with a clatter.

  Fiona came to stand in front of me, not so close as to be within arm’s reach, but close enough for me to smell the jasmine that was her signature scent.

  “I don’t know what you’re playing at,” she said. “But trust me, you do not want to get on my bad side.”

  I arched a brow. “Bad side? Isn’t that like every side?”

  “What are you doing here?” the heavy bangs girl asked. “You’re not a weaver.”

  I offered her a tight smile across the room. “Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I am.”

  There was a collective gasp, and then the room broke out in murmurs.

  “You’re lying,” Fiona said.

  I sighed. “Yeah, I’m lying. I mean, I don’t have anything better to do than to come and hang with the entitled, egomaniacal gang.”

  “How?” heavy bangs asked. “That would mean you’re from a—”

  “A weaver family.” The voice was low, feminine, and cultured.

  A tall woman with silver hair and violet eyes materialized at the front of the room. Madam Latrou, no doubt. She smoothed down the front of her cream tunic, and then her gaze fell to the desk on the ground.

  “We do not throw furniture in this class, Miss Justice,” she said in a cultured, clipped tone.

  “What? That wasn’t—”

  “Pick it up.”

  “Seriously?”

  She fixed those eerie eyes on me. “If you are to be in my class, then you will obey my commands without question.”

  Fiona smirked. “You better pick up that desk, Justice.”

  Bitch. Just a couple of hours. I’d be out of there soon. I grabbed the desk and hauled it back to my seat.

  “Good,” Latrou said, turning her attention to the rest of the room. “Miss Justice is an … anomaly. She carries both weaver and shadow cadet genes, and in her case, they are both active.”

  Once again, a collective gasp filled the room.

  Dramatic much?

  Latrou held up her hand. “It is our duty to ensure that all weavers are trained in the use of their magic, in their manipulation of the threads that make up the great weave of power that lies like a safety net over our world. One misinformed weaver can damage the weave, can cause corrosion and fraying of the threads. One abuser can taint magic for everyone.”

  There were murmurs of agreement.

  “So, that said, we must educate Miss Justice in the proper use of her ability.”

  “And what might that be?” Kash asked, leaning back in his seat.

  “An ancient ability called shadow casting, an ability specific to the Payne bloodline.”

  Fiona sucked in a sharp breath. “What?” Her wide eyes took me in. “You’re a Payne?”

  I shrugged. “Hello, cuz.” I winked at her, and her face drained of color. This was almost better than punching her in the face.

  “Wait … what?” She looked confused. Sick.

  Call me Carter, Payne had said. And being in his company felt easy. Natural. Weird, huh? He’d told me he didn’t want to keep my heritage a secret, that he was done with lies and it was out now. On the table for everyone to see.

  “Carter’s my biological father.” I shrugged. “I guess that makes us family.”

  Fiona’s lips thinned, and she opened her mouth to speak, probably to deliver some nasty barb, but Latrou cut her off with a clap of her hands.

  “Shadow casting is rare. It’s dangerous, and it’s one-way open channel magic. Therefore, I will need my most promising student to help guide Miss Justice.” Her gaze fell on Fiona. “Miss Payne. You will be mentoring Miss Justice today.”

  Fiona’s mouth fell open, and then she snapped it closed and nodded curtly.

  “Miss Justice, there is much you need to learn about the weave and its origins, and Miss Raj is our resident expert on the history of magic. She’ll be your mentor for the administration aspect of these classes.”

  I scanned the room. Who was Miss Raj? The heavy bangs girl was beaming at me. She gave me a little wave.

  Okay. That was Miss Raj.

  “All right.” Latrou clapped her hands again. “Let’s start the session by reaching out to the weave and giving our thanks.”

  The cadets all closed their eyes.

  Was this some kind of prayer thing?

  A tingle ran across my skin, and gooseflesh sprang up. No. Something was definitely happening.

  “You need to close your eyes and focus,” Fiona snapped.

  What? When had she joined me? “Focus on what?”

  She rolled her eyes and then touched the spot just below her breastbone. “We’re all tethered from here. From our solar plexus. If you focus, you can feel the burn, the buzz that’s the connection. Follow it, and you’ll find the weave.”

  I did as she instructed. Closing my eyes, I focused on the spot below my breastbone. The spot that had flared angrily when Fiona and Kash had accosted me in the foyer a week ago.

  A light buzz filled my head, and then gentle warmth bloomed outward. Darkness surrounded me, and then I was inside my head, looking down at myself, at the orb glow
ing in my chest. A thick golden rope unfurled out of it and whiplashed out into the dark.

  Follow it, Fiona had said.

  I grabbed on and began to pull myself along the rope. The darkness turned gray, and then millions of tiny lights flicked on, like stars but not stars. Like diamonds but not diamonds. They clung to silver and gold threads that spanned the gray, weaving together a web that was more a tapestry than a net. My gold thread flowed into that tapestry, linking to it, becoming a part of it, pulsing and glowing with life. And there were others, so many others spinning out of the tapestry and into darkness.

  More weavers. More connections.

  This was the source of magic.

  This was the power that flowed through me.

  It was infinite, vast, and unfathomable, and it was mine. I needed to know it, to touch it, to claim it. Closer, closer. Please. I needed to bathe in the warmth that skimmed over me, seductive and perfect.

  Back. Come back.

  What?

  “Justice, snap out of it!”

  There was a sharp sting on my face, and the weave rushed away. My eyes snapped open to Fiona, red-faced and bright-eyed, staring down at me. And she wasn’t alone. The whole gang was here.

  What was I doing on the floor?

  “Back up.” Latrou’s voice drifted over their heads. “Give her room to breathe.”

  Raj held out her hand, and I took it, allowing her to haul me up.

  Someone handed me a glass of water, and it was only then I realized how thirsty I was. The water was gone in seconds.

  “Sit,” Latrou ordered.

  My legs were rubbery, and it took two attempts to park my butt on a stool.

  “Now, this is the difference between a shadow caster and a regular weaver,” Latrou said. “The allure of the weave is stronger. Miss Justice will need to learn to shield herself to control her interaction with the power, or it will consume her.”

  She sounded matter-of-fact, as if it was an everyday thing, but the look in her eyes told me that was far from the case.

  Someone yawned loudly.

  “Are we boring you, Genevieve?” Latrou asked.

  “No, Miss Latrou,” a voice piped up.

  Kash yawned next. “Must be catching.” He grinned.

  “Miss Justice, you will refrain from using your shadow casting ability until you have mastered control of your connection to the weave. Is that clear?”

  After what had just happened, and the way I felt, all rubbery and weird, that sounded like a top idea. “Agreed.”

  She studied me for a long beat. “Once you can commune with the weave and return unscathed, then we will work on casting and shielding. I think some one-on-one sessions may be in order.”

  What? “I have shadow cadet duties.”

  Her mouth turned down. “You also have a duty to the weave, Miss Justice. Whether you like it or not. If you do not master your connection to the weave, you are putting us all in jeopardy. Do you understand?”

  Her gaze was insistent, penetrating.

  Shit. “I get it.”

  She blew out a breath. “Thank goodness Master Payne discovered who and what you are … For all our sakes.” She turned away. “Miss Raj, educate Miss Justice on the origins of the weave, please. The rest of you pair up and practice advanced levitation.”

  The Raj girl joined me and pulled up a stool. She shoved a notepad and pen my way and then grinned good-naturedly.

  “Hi, my name is Joti, and I’ll be your guide for the history of magic.”

  * * *

  “No one knows their name,” Joti said. “We call them the Original Weavers. The first and only ones of their kind. They created the tapestry of power that covers our reality as a protection. And they touched some of us, gifting us with a connection to the tapestry. Allowing us to tap into the power and manipulate it. They warned us that in order to maintain this connection, our bloodlines must remain pure. Latrou, Raj, and Payne. Three bloodlines that have been connected by marriage for centuries.”

  “Until me.” I arched a brow.

  She winced. “Yeah …You’re not the first, though. There have been … slips. But none of the progeny ever exhibited weaver power.” She frowned. “The weaver parent was lucky.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean there are consequences for breaking the law and probably more so if the progeny ends up with weaver power.”

  “What kind of consequences?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. This sort of thing hasn’t happened in a long while.”

  I’d have to ask Payne. The last thing I wanted was for him to be in trouble because of me.

  My head began to pound, and my knee bobbed; I was suddenly eager to be out of this room, to be anywhere but in this room.

  The chamber was beginning to feel claustrophobic with all the wary glances being thrown my way. You’d think I was a ticking time bomb.

  Maybe I was.

  My connection to the weave could fuck it up for them all. My existence could hurt Payne.

  “It’s okay,” Joti said. “You’ll get it. I know you will. Everything will work out the way it was meant to.”

  I gave her a skeptical look. “Miss Optimistic, aren’t you?”

  She shrugged and then leaned in. “To survive in the elite, you need a little optimism.”

  “Not a fan?”

  “Just doing my duty to the family. Honestly, I just want to graduate and open a school for underprivileged supernaturals. The slums are filled with orphans with no access to education. No proper home. Once I graduate, I come into my inheritance, and that’s what I’ll be spending it on.”

  I’d seen the supernatural slums. I’d lived in them amongst the desperation and poverty. I’d engaged with the children of bastardized fey and shunned moonkissed not under the protection of a pack. And she was right, the best place to start, the only place to start, was with the next generation.

  I couldn’t help but smile. “In that case, I’d like to help.”

  She blinked in surprise at me. “You would?”

  “Financially. Trust me, I have the money, and I can’t think of a better way to use it.”

  She beamed at me. “You know, Justice. I think you and I are going to be good friends.”

  The Minnie-shaped hole closed a little. “Yeah, I think we are.”

  Six

  The mist thinned the higher we climbed up the rise to the fortress that looked down onto the mist. It was a sprawling black and gray structure, proud and ominous, watching us approach with suspicion through its many lean gothic windows. Windows set in towers jutting up here and there.

  Armor clanked, and boots thudded in time to my heartbeat.

  We were here. Really here. Shit, my stomach was in knots of anticipation.

  Harmon and Thomas walked ahead just behind Master Vince, and Mal and Gimble were several steps behind us. It had been a few weeks since I’d crossed paths with those two. They were under another troop’s mentorship, and from the looks of it, they were now friends. I guessed when someone fed you their blood to save your life, you’d have to be a total douche not to put aside your prejudices and offer a hand of friendship.

  They chatted amiably as we made our way up the winding path toward the monolith that housed the shadow knights. The mist thinned more as we got higher, and then the night air was clean and crisp. My back felt light without my axes strapped to it, but Vince had insisted we leave the weapons behind.

  Finally, we reached the entrance.

  The double doors were several meters high, too heavy for one person to pull open. Maybe a winch system? Vince knocked on the wood, and a smaller door cut into the larger frame swung open to admit us.

  He ushered us inside, and dry chill kissed my cheeks. The floor was flagstone, the walls were large brick, and the ceilings were high and beamed. Old-style lamps hung on metal hooks bolted to the walls, and thick candles burned in candelabras nestled in nooks in the wall. A stone staircase peeked from an aperture
hewn into the wall to the left, and another staircase was visible to the right. A set of wooden steps faced us, leading up to a grand balcony lined with candles.

  This was a proper old structure. A castle.

  “Shit,” Thomas said. “I feel like I’ve stepped back in time.”

  “No electricity up here,” Vince said. “Oil lamps and roaring fires. A hot stone ta warm ya beds and a stiff brandy ta warm ya belly.” He rubbed his hands together. “This, cadets, will be home.”

  A shiver of pleasure hop-skipped up my spine and settled at the base of my neck. Boot falls echoed around us, and then a figure stepped out of the staircase to the left. Dark eyes, tight, dark curls, and a face I’d missed more than I’d realized.

  Brady.

  My heart lurched at the sight of him.

  His gaze locked on mine and warmed. I wanted to say something, to go to him, but I checked myself. Whoa? Where had this urge come from?

  And then he was addressing us as a group. “Master Venerick’s waiting in the courtyard. Follow me.”

  “Off with ya then.” Vince shooed us toward Brady.

  Brady strode off, his huge frame leading the way around the main staircase and down a dimly lit corridor. We passed under an arch and then clattered down a flight of steps and into a huge room filled with tables and the clatter of pots and pans.

  “Kitchens,” Brady said, even though it was evident from the pots and pans.

  Except there was no one manning them. The pots hovered above the huge trough of a sink while a scouring pad scrubbed at them. A cauldron bubbled above the flames of a large fireplace while the ladle propped inside turned itself.

  “What the fuck?” Harmon spoke the words that were going through everyone’s minds.

  Brady stopped and glanced at the scene and then pursed his lips. “Hobbloods,” he said. “They’re shy.”

  A soft murmur raced across the room, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention.

  “They won’t hurt you, but the kitchens are their domain, so take nothing without asking. Understand?” He didn’t wait for a response, but pushed open a thick wooden door and led us out into the starlit night.