Hemlock (Academy of the Dead Book 1)

by Rue Volley

  “What happened?!” she exclaimed while leaning down to inspect it. I held onto the edge of the table. “It’s nothing really, I—well—”

  “Rook fell because of me, it was an accident of course, we bumped into each other at the party.”

  I don’t know why G felt the need to protect me, but he did, taking the blame for something that was entirely my fault.

  “I got sick—at the party.” I pressed my hand against my stomach. “I didn’t eat enough today.”

  Nadia rose up in front of me with a glossy-eyed expression. My brows knitted. “It isn’t your fault.” I offered.

  “But I’m your ment, and now you’re fatally wounded.”

  I peered down at my knee. “I’m not. It’s just a cut—little, really—no big thing. Honestly, I’m okay.”

  Nadia drew me in for a tight hug and my eyes followed G, as he slipped out the door without saying goodbye. I parted my lips, but he was gone and so was the chance to get to know him better—because I wanted that more than I could explain.

  She backed away shaking her head while giving me a once-over.

  “Nadia, I just need food. Can we eat—please?”

  “Of course! We have tons of food. I’ll get whatever you like as long as you tell me what was going on in here.”

  “What?”

  She placed a hand on her hip. “With G.” She looked at Cole and he offered a nod before thumbing at the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She blew a kiss in his direction and he caught it and pulled it to his heart. I would laugh, but I think it’s sweet.

  Her attention quickly snapped back on me.

  “Tea—all of it.”

  “I prefer coffee.” I retorted with a rub to my thigh.

  “Funny, Rook.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Oh, my Goddess.” Nadia spoke through a chuckle while shoving another piece of fresh mango into her mouth.

  I reached in and grabbed a piece of fruit. “I know,” I picked at it before placing it on my tongue. It burst with flavor in my mouth. All organic, locally grown. Nadia had thrown as much as she could on the oversized white platter, collecting mango, strawberries, blueberries, crackers and cheese.

  Her eyes lit with mischief. “So, did it hit his shoes?” she asked through a muffled laugh.

  I stopped chewing. “No, it didn’t.”

  She shook her head. “Well, you definitely left an impression.”

  I placed an open palm to my forehead. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to go to my classes on Monday. I’m mortified.”

  She eyed another piece of fruit with intent, “I didn’t mean our fellow classmates—I meant G Gianni.”

  I stopped chewing. “Oh—that boy? Nah—I mean, he just felt bad, and wanted to help.”

  “Uh huh.” She picked through the plate. “Sure he did.”

  “He carried me down here, picked me up off the floor, and brought me to the kitchen.”

  I don’t know why I felt like I needed to point out what he had done for me.

  “He did what?” she asked.

  I drew my bottom lip inside my mouth, tasting the sweet juice that the fresh mango had left behind, licking it clean. “I was sitting against our door, because I’m telling you, Bitter is a serial killer, and I wasn’t going in there while I was already bleeding to death, but anyway, he showed up and wanted to help.”

  She perked up while plucking a strawberry from the plate, and twisted the green stem from the top of it, tossing it aside. “Oh—so he shows up, and then carries you to the kitchen, and then what?”

  I shrugged a shoulder while palming a few blueberries. They were plump and full of juice. Each bite made me feel more like myself. “Then he cleaned my knee.”

  “Cleaned it?”

  “Yeah, Nadia. He grabbed a towel and cleaned it up, which I think is nice.”

  She laughed through a bite of strawberry. It left a sheen on her bottom lip that she licked away.

  “What?”

  She stood up and palmed the table, flexing her fingers. “Oh, honey.”

  I was confused, but it was short-lived.

  She reached in and took my hand. “G Gianni is just—” she narrowed her eyes, forcing her cute nose to wrinkle.

  “He’s what?” I asked.

  “Trouble.” She whispered.

  I know it should’ve made me rethink everything, but for some reason, I suddenly wanted more. I wanted to spend more time with him—get to know him—ask all the questions I would’ve if I hadn’t been dizzied from the lack of food and dumbfounded while standing so close to a boy who was prettier than anything I had ever seen.

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “All kinds.” She added.

  “That isn’t very specific.”

  Nadia snorted. “G has dated practically everyone—not me, of course, but everyone else in this school. He’s also strange, he won’t tell his story, like to anyone, and everyone has a story. Every single one of us, and my Dad has had to talk to him, like a lot, which can only mean he’s done things to get in trouble.”

  “But your Dad didn’t tell you?”

  She sighed. “To be fair, my Dad isn’t all about gossip, which is annoying, but I’m telling you. G is dangerous. He’s just bad.”

  I straightened up when she grabbed the plate and held her hand out toward me.

  “Come on, we’ll go back to our room and devour this. I have movies, all kinds—including romantic ones that will make you forget all about him.”

  “I’m not thinking about him.”

  “Right.” She snapped.

  I took her hand. “I’m not, and a musical sounds great.”

  “Mmm, well I have a ton. Into the Woods, Beauty and the Beast, Little Shop of Horrors.”

  I snapped my fingers. “Oh! I love all of them, let’s just do a movie marathon. Okay?”

  “Perfect.” she spoke through a smile, pulling me up, and helping me back to our room.

  My eyes felt heavy, my blinking slowed as the song droned on the large TV that was attached to the wall. We had eaten everything on the plate and my stomach was now full and happy. I had settled into bed, enjoying the soft pillows, and semi-firm mattress. The comforter was weighted, helping with my anxiety. I ran my open palms across the top of it and stretched my back and legs. It was nice to finally feel somewhat relaxed after a first day filled with chaos.

  But surprisingly the chaos didn’t bother me at all. In fact, I welcomed it. At home everything was pretty much the same—predictable. We’d get up, have breakfast, do the dishes together. Then I’d shower, or take a bath, depending on my mood, and after that I’d study most of the morning, breaking at noon for a hearty lunch, and then sometimes after, I’d read or take a nap. Don’t get me wrong, I love my house, and my Mom—and the life she had given to me in that cottage by the lake. But I always felt like I should be doing more. Like I could help in this world, and I guess that’s why I believed I could come to Hemlock Academy and find my place, becoming a protector to a royal house in one of the Seven Kingdoms of Myth and Magic.

  But here—well, Hemlock was exciting. It sparked my curiosity, and made me want to learn more about who I am and what powers I have churning inside of me.

  Just one thing weighed heavy on my heart.

  How I had killed Bitter, and charred the earth beneath my feet when I saved that bird. Mom told me that I shouldn’t mention it on my admission letter—so I tucked it away, but it didn’t mean it never happened.

  I knew that someday I’d have to face it and what I am.

  My parents didn’t know how to guide me. Although my Mom collected every book she could for us to read, it still didn’t explain what I did.

  I guess it worries me, but I can’t let it stop me.

  I blinked again, and again unti
l sleep came and with it the dreams…

  Chapter Eleven

  I woke up deep in the Forest of Emma Green to no sound. Not a chirp, bellow, or call. Just deafening silence. But I wasn’t alone—I could feel it in my bones.

  Eyes were upon me, studying me—judging me. Making me feel uncomfortable in my skin.

  I peered upward and I could see small breaks in the trees, allowing slivers of light to penetrate the forest, landing in various sections and creating a pathway for me to follow.

  Whispers rose on the wind—carrying my name. I began to move, placing my bare feet on soft moss, and twisted root. Pushing forward, following the light—the path that had been laid out before me. I paused when I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. But when I turned my head, nothing was there. Still, eyes bore into me, making this place darker and more precarious with each step that I took.

  I couldn’t stop now. I couldn’t. I felt an obligation to see who, or what, was calling out to me.

  So, I hurried my pace, as the anxiety spilled out, leaving blackened footprints in my wake. I looked down at the dress I was now wearing. It was brilliant white, making me stand out in this dark place. I started to run—when panic gripped me. The whispering surrounded me, forcing my head to spin and my heart to pound in my chest.

  Then I broke into a clearing. It was a perfect circle filled with hemlock. One lone tree sat in the center of it all and against the base I spotted two people—a beautiful girl with light red hair, adorned with a brushed gold crown filled with jewels of many colors.

  She had pale skin, and lips to match. She was cupping the hands of a boy with black hair. She pulled their hands to her cheek and closed her eyes. He plucked some hemlock and placed it to her lips, as she did the same for him. Tears rolled down her cheeks and he wiped them away with one gentle swipe of his thumb.

  She began to speak to him in a language I didn’t know, but recognized as French. It was a poem. His eyes remained locked on hers as he whispered her name, “Emma Green”.

  Morte la nuit

  La mémoire des étoiles brûle

  Une encre éblouissante subsiste

  Dans l’écriture de l’aube

  La monde naît

  Sans déchirement

  Le même enfante le même

  Allègre renouvellement

  Des ventres se nimbent

  Lourds de fœtus de soleils

  Des flèches d’oiseaux s’élancent

  Vers les formes fertiles

  Sur le lit du temps

  Les vierges bourgeonnent

  Des buissons d’anges

  Jaillissent de leur nombril

  Tout

  Est possible

  With her last word he placed the hemlock on her tongue and she did the same for him. They embraced one another, then slowly lowered to the base of the tree, still holding on tight, staring into each other’s eyes, until life slipped away from the two of them forever.

  I couldn’t move or breathe.

  “Rook.”

  I turned around to see G standing there, dressed in all white, holding out a piece of hemlock for me in the palm of his hand. I shook my head and backed away as the ground began to blacken beneath my feet.

  “Please, don’t.” I whispered. “I’ll only hurt you.”

  The blacked circle moved beneath his feet and he turned to smoke and ash—fading away.

  I rolled right out of bed and hit the floor with a yelp when the alarm on my phone went off.

  “No more food that late at night.” I mumbled.

  I knew it was a dream, but it felt so real.

  Without warning, a white paw slapped me across the face from under the bed. I blinked a few times and Bitter Bat came into focus.

  “Seriously? How many times have I apologized for what happened?”

  I sprang up and grabbed my phone. It was eleven forty-five! My Mom would be here in less than fifteen minutes. I searched for something—anything, to put Bitter in, and then dropped down on my stomach to coax her out, but she was gone.

  I heard the door open and witnessed a white blur dart out into the hallway.

  “Oh, crap.” I muttered to myself as I hurried out the door with my hooded white bear pajamas on, complete with tail and ears.

  I rushed through the hallway, trying to snatch her up to no avail. Then she scurried down the stairs and turned to growl at me. I wagged a finger. “Bitter Bat, behave.”

  “Nice pajamas.”

  I froze, then turned around trying to look cool in my furry costume. “Thanks.” I replied, not knowing how else I should react.

  “How’s the knee?” G asked while fighting a grin.

  I tilted my head, shaking back the white paws that could cover my hands like gloves, if I wanted them to. But I didn’t want that now. “Never better.”

  “Good.”

  Bitter Bat rushed past me, and my eyes followed. G scooped her up, cradling my cat in his arms, and basically lulling her to sleep.

  I’m so annoyed. If I tried to do that, she’d pull a knife on me, demanding I give her my pants and the keys to the car.

  “Is this what you were looking for?” he asked.

  “I’d love to say no.”

  My Mom came stumbling into the Academy, muttering to herself.

  Her hair was a complete mess, balled up on top of her head with pieces sticking out here and there. Her shirt was on crooked, and she had her oversized Audrey Hepburn sunglasses on. She straightened up, after nearly falling into the school, while holding onto the door handle. “What the hell is wrong with this door!”

  “Can we help you?” G asked as we both stared at her.

  She rubbed her temples. “Oh, Hi, honey! That’s mine. I made her.” She wagged a finger at me.

  I let out a sigh and glanced over at G. “That’s my Mom.”

  “Is she okay?”

  I rolled my eyes, while still fighting to get my pajama paws to stay off my hands. Finally, I gave up and just talked with them on. “Well, she drank a whole bottle of Pink Moscato because she was upset about me coming here.”

  “Ahh—yeah wine will do that.”

  I was glad he understood.

  Mom began to cough and it got away from her, so she pounded her chest then covered her lips with two fingers. Both G and I leaned in, but she waved it off, and gave us a hearty thumbs up.

  “I’m good!”

  “Do all the women in your family throw up when they first meet people?”

  I shook my head.

  He smiled while handing Bitter Bat back to me. She was sound asleep. I expected her to wake up any second and try to gouge one of my eyes out, but it didn’t happen. She was actually purring. I stared down at her, wishing it had always been like this and wondering what kind of magic G had, but I think I already knew.

  “She’s here to take this cat home.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Well, Bitter Bat hates me, and with good reason.”

  He half-grinned while my Mom hopped on one shoe and it fell off. I eyed her then my attention returned to him. “I accidentally killed her, then she got buried, and I dug her up and brought her back to life.”

  He sucked through his teeth. “Oh, that’ll do it.”

  “Rook, honey. Listen. If I don’t get some coffee and food, I’m going to throw up all over this school in front of your boyfriend.”

  I gritted my teeth. “I should go.”

  “Okay, yeah—see you later.” He rubbed the side of his neck while making his way back up the stairs. I watched him until he disappeared around the corner then turned to see my Mom standing there, tapping her foot.

  “I’d love to know more about the boy.”

  I narrowed my eyes and shook my head.

  There wasn’t anything more
to know.

  Or was there?

  Chapter Twelve

  My Mom let me drive the Volkswagen Beetle into the small town of Hemlock. The streets were bricked in obsidian stone. It’s a powerful cleanser of psychic smog created within your aura, and a strong psychic protection stone. It also has powerful metaphysical properties that will help shield you against negativity. The energy of these stones may stimulate the gift of prophesy and may boost precognition too, so it made sense why they used it.

  I pulled the clutch after we came to an abrupt stop. She taught me how to drive when I was twelve, because according to her, the ability to get away was essential to every person’s survival—and I agreed with her. But it didn’t mean I was that graceful at it.

  I got out and let my eyes wander over the Victorian style buildings that line Main St. They clung to each other, shoulder to shoulder, tall and thin—indicative of the time period when the town was built.

  Hemlock—the town, came after the Academy. It was filled with parents of some of the students who attended the school, or magic folk, which is what humans call them. People with magic call humans many things, mostly unsavory, because we all know what humans have done to people that were different from them, throughout history.

  But a sort of peace settled between those with magic and those without, when humans realized that magic could wipe them out if needed.

  It’s funny how minds can be changed when the selfish need to survive becomes perfectly clear. But I can’t hate humanity, my parents are human—I have human blood, and that part of me bridges the gap between their world and this one.

  I made my way onto the sidewalk as Mom remained in the car. She had fallen asleep on the short drive over here, and was snoring loudly with her head tilted back and mouth wide open.

  It was a good look.

  I immediately had to step back when a ringing bell and two bicycles passed me by. I shielded my eyes from the sunlight and studied the swinging signs. There were a few shops in town.

  Bakery, Coffeeshop, Bookstore, Magical Supplies—Clothing. The essentials that you’d expect to find in a place like this. I grinned from ear to ear.