Shadowspell Academy
The Culling Trials, Book 2
K.F. Breene
Shannon Mayer
Copyright © 2019 by K.F. Breene & Shannon Mayer
All rights reserved. The people, places and situations contained in this ebook are figments of the author’s insane imagination and in no way reflect real or true events.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Shadowspell Academy: The Culling Trials, Book 3
Also by the Authors
About the Authors
Chapter 1
Standing in a shower, buck naked, in a crappy little portable sometime after midnight, being caught out as a girl by one of my teammates was the last place I wanted to be. Check that, the last place I wanted to be was here in the Culling Trials at all.
I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my middle, realizing belatedly that guys didn’t cover their chests, but what else was I supposed to do? Let the girls hang out? Yeah, that was not happening. Besides, maybe the towel thing didn’t matter—that ship had sailed.
“Crap,” I muttered, grabbing another towel and draping it over my shoulders in an even more awkward arrangement.
“I just saw boobs,” Pete whispered, his face bright red and his eyes wide. “Why do you have boobs?”
A disembodied voice cut through the air. “You’ll want to watch who you tell—”
I startled at the unexpected, if familiar, voice and Pete shrieked.
Orin stood in the far corner, his face blank and eyes piercing as he stared at Pete.
“How long have you been there?” I gasped, pulling the towels tighter around me and scooting into one of the toilet stalls.
“I was keeping watch,” Orin said as I locked the stall door.
“On what, the door or my ass? Because you didn’t do a bang-up job on the former.”
“I was distracted by your neck. You have a strong heart. Your blood pulses in a very nice rhythm—”
“Did I just see boobs?” Pete mumbled, clearly to himself. “I couldn’t have. I’m dreaming. Sleepwalking. But dang what a dream!”
“Close the damn door, Orin,” I ground out between clenched teeth. “We don’t need the whole place hearing this conversation.”
The door clicked as I hurried to dress, donning a sports bra before pulling on my T-shirt and boxers. The cloth stuck to my damp skin as I wrestled it into place, all the while listening to Pete’s mumbling.
“They were perfect,” he said, whispering. “Round and perky with pink nipples. That isn’t right. Right? He’s a…he. Guys don’t have…”
I unlocked the door and pushed out of the stall, grabbed Pete by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall. I leaned into his face, schooling my expression into a hard mask.
“You didn’t see boobs, got it?”
His widened eyes stared at me, but it wasn’t because of my thinly veiled threat. He was still lost in the vortex of female anatomy that had interrupted his midnight pee.
“Shake it off, man.” I slapped him across the face, just hard enough. “They are for feeding kids, for cripes’ sakes. Every second adult has them.”
He blinked slowly before his eyebrows pinched above his nose. “You have boobs?”
“He’s not the brightest crayon in the box,” Orin said with an eye roll.
I curled my fingers around Pete’s neck. “As far as you are concerned, no, I do not. I am a guy. I have a dick and a flat chest. Got it?”
Understanding lit Pete’s face, and a grin twisted his lips. “I saw your boo—”
I increased the pressure on his neck, willing him to understand. I didn’t want to hurt Pete. I liked him.
“It is really surprising human males are tolerated with this type of behavior,” Orin drawled.
“They aren’t all like this,” I said, remembering when Rory, that lying bastard, saw me naked by accident once. He’d walked into the bathroom while I was showering, thinking it was Tommy. When I’d unknowingly flashed him, he’d simply apologized, turned his back, and asked if we needed anything from the store. He hadn’t said a word about it ever again, not even to tease me in front of my brother.
Pete needed to grow up.
I was about to help him.
“If you mention this to anyone, I will kill you,” I said, low and rough. “I will slit your throat in your sleep and let you bleed out in that cozy little bed out there. You saw me in the final trial—you know I’m not bluffing. I could do it.”
I was totally bluffing. But he didn’t know that.
His face paled as he wheezed around my fingers. He nodded his head adamantly, fear finally cutting through his confusion and humor.
“I am pretending to be a boy to save my brother,” I went on. “I’m here in his stead. He’s not even sixteen—he never would’ve made it this far. If you mess with me, you are messing with my family, do I make myself clear? I will kill for my family.”
A strange sensation pulled at my stomach. An assurance. A confidence in what I’d said. That primal part of me wasn’t bluffing. I would do what it took to save my family, and this place would give me the tools to protect them. I felt that as surely as I felt the ground under my feet. And to keep Billy and maybe eventually Sam out of this, I would use those tools violently if need be.
“They don’t bring people in that young,” Pete struggled to say through his squeezed windpipe. “It’s against the rules.”
“He is incapable of focusing on the threat to his life,” Orin said. “Fascinating. That or he trusts you implicitly.”
I released my hand and stepped back before pointing at myself. “Boy. I am a boy.”
Pete rubbed his throat. “Yes, fine, I won’t tell. But…” His brow furrowed. “They don’t even take geniuses below the age of seventeen. The academy isn’t just about academics—people have to be a certain age to properly control their magic before they can be tested.”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “Mr. Sunshine said he got it cleared.”
“Who?” they asked in unison.
“The Sandman. Sideburns. My own personal Grim Reaper. When he checked me in, he said he’d gotten Billy cleared. It was pretty clear then that he knew I wasn’t Billy. I assumed he didn’t say anything because it would look bad on him if he showed up with the wrong kid.”
“Why not just bring in you?” Orin asked. “You’re the right age, aren’t you?”
“He said something about my electing not to come. But I never saw a letter or anything.”
“Oh. One of your parents must’ve filled out the form,” Pete said. “Though why would they opt out for you and not your brother?”
I wondered the same thing, though a larger issue nagged at me. “It wouldn’t have been my parents to fill out that form.” I couldn’t bear to elaborate. I didn’t want to talk about my mother dying early, or the role my father might’ve inadvertently played in my other brother’s death.
Thinking of Tommy—
“Could a sibling have filled out the form?” I asked.
Pete shook his head. “It has to be a legal guardian.”
“Then who would�
�ve—”
“Hey!”
We all jumped. Ethan stood in the doorway with a glower. “Can you guys shut up? It’s late and I’m tired.”
“Sorry,” Pete nudged me with his elbow, “I was just talking with my bro here.”
I rolled my eyes and made my way out of the bathroom, thinking on what Sideburns had said. Wondering why the school had gone after Billy so aggressively, well before it was prudent, even if I was mysteriously excused. Something wasn’t adding up. Or, I should say, another something wasn’t adding up. I needed to know why my family was a target—why my mother had tried to keep us out of this life.
There was someone I could ask who might know. Rory. And tomorrow, a rest day, I’d find that miserable, two-faced, cowardly sonuvabitch and force information out of him.
One way or another.
Chapter 2
A siren blared through the crappy little portable, echoing in the small, close space. I startled awake, sitting up on my top bunk and smashing my head on the ceiling.
“Owww.” I pressed my palm to my forehead.
The lights flicked on, dim, showing that it was still not quite light outside.
“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” someone shouted in at us.
An object clattered across the floor. A moment later, small blasts filled the space, crackling and popping. Someone shouted outside.
“What’s going on?” Pete thudded against the floor below me as I scrambled to the bunk ladder.
Ethan threw his legs over the railing of his top bunk and leapt to the ground, landing in a half crouch.
“He’s a douche, but he’s an agile douche,” I said, attempting the same thing and half sliding, half falling from mine. Amazing that I could run across a log while being pummeled with arrows and spears, but could barely manage dropping out of bed. Then again, there was no adrenaline pumping despite all the noise. These theatrics were irritating, certainly, but not dangerous.
Another set of mini-explosions drowned out the shouts and yells from outside—fire crackers meant to scare and drive us out.
The door burst open, and a woman with short platinum hair and thin lips stepped in. Her clothing style said she was part of the program. “Get moving! Let’s go, slugs!”
“What’s going on?” Ethan yelled over the blaring siren.
“Your second trial starts in half an hour. Get to the gate or get a ticket home. Let’s go!” The woman peeled away from the doorway as we staggered forward, sleep drunk.
“Today is supposed to be a day off,” Ethan called after her as she strutted down the narrow lane leading to the other portables. People waited in their clusters, their crews, rubbing their eyes and huddling together against the early morning chill. More kids surged out of the mansion, their movements jerky from the shock of being woken up just after the butt crack of dawn.
Pete stretched and then groaned. “I’m still sore from yesterday.”
“We all are. That’s why we’re supposed to get a break,” Ethan groused.
“Head to the buses.” The woman stalked toward us, motioning us to the buses. “Load up.”
“When was the last time the academy changed stuff up like this? They’ve always had a day of rest between each trial,” Gregory asked Pete.
He shook his head. “Wally would know.” He pointed. “There she is!”
Wally broke away from a group of girls and jogged toward us across a broad stretch of lawn, waving her hand like she was stranded and flagging down a rescue plane.
“She’s not supposed to leave her group, I don’t think,” Pete said softly.
Ethan rolled his eyes and shoved me forward before grabbing Pete by the shirt and yanking him after me. “Hurry up. They’ve been known to leave without people.”
“Suddenly the team player?” I asked Ethan dryly as Wally caught up to us.
“I need someone to trip if we’re being chased by beasts,” he replied. Funny enough, I didn’t think Ethan was kidding, not for a second.
“Only three times in the history of the Culling Trials have they altered the format,” Wally said breathlessly. “This is very exciting.”
“Why do you think they’re changing things?” Gregory asked. “Do they want to hurry us into school, maybe? But really, what’s an extra few days?”
A line of chartered buses waited for us in the mansion parking lot, the doors open and an attendant standing by each. I didn’t see Sunshine or Rory anywhere.
“Which one should we choose?” Pete asked.
“Follow me.” Ethan cut through the crowd.
At the fourth bus from the end, the attendant held up her hand. “Room for one more group. Let’s go.”
“That’s us.” Ethan put out his hand to stop another group of five guys who stood much closer to the bus. “Find another bus,” he told them with a haughtiness that seemed as grotesque as it was useful, given they all deflated and backed away. He glanced back at us. “Come on.”
“Why this bus?” I asked, seeing no distinction between this one and the rest.
He didn’t answer, only strode past the empty seats at the front. Near the back of the bus, he stopped next to a seemingly random seat and jerked his head at the occupants. “You’re in my seat. Move.”
The two starry-eyed girls fell over themselves to get out of his way, batting their lashes and showering him in sweet smiles.
I scowled at them. “Grow a spine, ladies.”
“You too. And you.” Ethan motioned for more seats to be vacated, this time by equally starry-eyed guys before taking his seat and nodding for me to sit with him. The way both genders reacted to him was unreal.
“People just do what he says?” I asked Wally as the displaced kids found new seats and the bus door slid shut.
“He’s a Helix.” She shrugged and sat.
Apparently, that was answer enough.
I slid in beside Ethan as he pulled a square of thicker type paper from his pocket. After a cursory look around, he peeled the corners away and read the sheet. His hand slid to his belt where his wand stuck out of a canvas holster.
“Do you have your cell phone on the other side, nerd?” I asked with some snark. I didn’t plan to mention that I was so poor, I neither had a phone nor a belt to put it on. “You should at least get a leather belt. It’s way cooler.”
The bus shimmied to a start, following behind those in front. The sun lit the interior and a few people started chattering.
“Did I hear right that you don’t know anything about magic?” Ethan asked, refolding the paper and tucking it into his pocket.
“Yes, you heard right. This is all new to me.”
“But you made it to the end of that Shade trial.”
“Teamwork. You should look into it.” I looked out the window as we rode. The scenery was all trees and bushes in full summer bloom. The heat wasn’t too bad, at least, especially not this early in the morning. If this trial was as physical as the last, we were going to be hurting in a few hours.
“The others in the crew, they’re useless. You’re…” A small crease formed between his brows as he studied me. “Odd.”
“Great. Good observation.” I turned away, nervous about how he was studying me. He was the last person I wanted to know my secret. His kind would sell secrets to the highest bidder and laugh when “Billy” ended up paying the price.
“You know Rory Wilson?” he asked.
The change in his conversation threw me and I paused before answering. Until yesterday, I would have said we were friends. Not anymore. “We grew up together.”
“He’s trouble.”
“Always has been, yes.”
“He’s the best Shade in his class. Nearly the best in the school, though he’s only a third year. Well, fourth year coming this year.”
“He’s a lying blockhead that’s going to get a thump as soon as I get a chance, so help me God.”
“What’s he doing here though, at the trials?” Ethan asked.
I paused
again, having no idea where the conversation was going, but still not expecting it to end up where it had.
“I have no idea,” I said honestly. The bus turned down a small dirt road. Dust flew past the windows, fogging the view. Anticipation quickened my heart. “He didn’t tell me he was coming here. I thought he was in Nevada. He sent me a postcard from Nevada.”
Ethan didn’t say anything for a long time. A quick glance told me he was staring at the side of my head.
“Is there a problem?” I asked
Ethan’s eyes bored into me. “Rory Wilson doesn’t have friends.”
“As of yesterday, I know why. Where are you going with this?”
The bus came to a stop, and Ethan pushed me to get out of the seat.
“He’s an enigma. People wonder what side he is on,” Ethan said.
“Side of what?” I moved in line as everyone exited the bus. He didn’t answer. Great, another question to add to the pile.
The five gates stood in front of us once more, sentinels lined up at the top, same as the day before.
Ethan blew air from his nose, and I got the distinct impression it was supposed to be a laugh of derision. He motioned me to a gate with a sparse crowd waiting in front. Our crew followed behind.
“You better hope you keep being useful,” Ethan said, “or someday soon you’ll be crushed by your lack of knowledge.”
“You should get a side job writing for fortune cookies. You’d be a smash hit.”
“This is the House of Unmentionables,” Pete said, interrupting us. “Why are we doing this one?”
“We have to do them all, and we have to do them all together. I’ve got a pattern we need to follow.” Ethan shifted as the same beautiful woman from the day before walked along the edge of the wall.
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