The Culling Trials 3 (Shadowspell Academy #3)(27)

I chuckled, giddy in my terror, as I saw a gap in the stone away to the left.

“Light.” Ethan struggled to point ahead of us, to a soft glow that chased away most of shadows. It wasn’t daylight, though. Logic pointed to a guard’s station or office for whoever came down here. We didn’t need to run into any more magical people if we could help it. Or get stuck in a dead end.

“Here.” I yanked him with me, his forward movement greatly hampered by the pain in his shoulder. “You need to work on your pain tolerance.”

Only one torch lit this corridor, and in a dozen or so feet, I saw why. Bars lined the right side, separated by columns of stone blocks. Benches were pushed up against the opposite wall, as though for viewing.

We inched closer and movement caught my eye, someone stirring from behind the bars. A girl, my age, with an oval face, large blue eyes, and scabbed-over bite marks on her neck.

“Hello?” she asked in a small voice.

A foot scraped against stone. Fingers wrapped around the bars, just visible down the way. A longish nose pushed out and my heart leapt.

“Gregory?”

“Wild?”

My heart swelling with excitement, I started down the line of occupied cells, but didn’t get far. Gregory was in the first one. A smile took over his face, big and broad and so relieved.

“You came! You found me! How’d you find me?” he asked, words tumbling over each other.

A strangled sound dragged my focus back the way I’d come. There, filling the gap posing as a doorway, short and compact and sporting those hideous sideburns, was the victor of the battle of masters. The Sandman. And now, nothing stood in his way.

Well, nothing except a wounded mage in training.

“Ethan—”

I didn’t get to finish the command to move.

The Sandman charged so fast, I lost track of his limbs. Ethan cried out and an axe went flying, revolving end over end until the gleaming edge crashed against the only torch lighting the area. The blade sliced off the flaming top, sending it fluttering to the floor. Once there, it dulled before going out.

Darkness washed through the room—the only light coming from somewhere deeper in the tunnel—and the last thing I saw was Ethan sprawled across the floor, curling around his hurt shoulder. A spear of pain drove through my thigh, a knife blade. Another embedded in my upper arm, shallow but no less painful for it. My knife clattered to the ground, having fallen from suddenly relaxed fingers.

“No, Wild!” Gregory yelled, his voice weak. Shouts and screams echoed off the walls and chased each other around the room. A blur of movement made me flinch, the pain throbbing, dulling my reactions. A fist came around, aiming for my cheek.

I pulled back at the last second. The fist smashed into the wall beside me. The Sandman cursed, but he didn’t stop. His leg whipped out, unreal fast, clipping my ankles. My legs went out from under me, my balance already in jeopardy from my wounded leg. I struck out with my good arm as I went down, hitting the second crotch that day. This time, I put a lot more strength behind the punch.

The breath gushed out of the Sandman and he doubled over. I snatched my knife from the ground even as my hip crashed into the stone. Pain rolled through my other side, vibrating through my body now, hard to ignore. I did my best, lashing out with my knife and catching his shin.

The Sandman swore, his voice rough, and pulled his foot back. Adrenaline blasted me one moment before the boot hit my face and darkness stole my consciousness.





Chapter 11





Sleep peeled away slowly, and soft warmth greeted me, cushioning me on all sides. I blinked my eyes open into an unfamiliar room. The beds were arranged in rows, all of them empty except for the one I lay in. Etched into the wall across from me were the words:

Strength is Life. Honor is Life. Loyalty is Life. Death is Life.

I knew without understanding how that I was for the first time seeing the creed of Shadowspell Academy.

A wave of pain washed through my head that drew a groan out of me. I must be in the medic rooms inside the mansion, or at least that was my best guess based on the ache in my head and the astringent smell that curled up my nose.

Darkness pressed against the windows. What had happened to the day? Had the zombie poisoning somehow returned? I remembered the trial, remembered coming out of it, and then…nothing.

I winced, curling my fingers around my forehead, and struggled to remember what had landed me in with the healers.

Adam. Ethan and I had been following Adam, and he’d caught us. He’d grabbed Ethan around the neck and I’d rushed in to help. Had Adam done this to me?

A familiar face approached the bed as a fuzzy recollection took shape of dark eyes staring at me through a mess of long brunette curls.

“Are you okay?” Wally asked, her face somber. “The nurse said she healed what she could of the concussion so you could sleep, but your head will likely be sore for a while. Is it sore?”

I squinted, letting Wally’s words drift around me, trying to remember beyond that encounter with Adam. I’d grabbed his neck and whipped him around. I’d…

I dug my fingertips into my skin, willing the throbbing pain to cease. My memories frayed at the edges and drifted away. There was still half a day unaccounted for.

“What happened?” I asked, dropping my head back onto the pillow. Some pain relief would sure be great. Where was a bottle of Tylenol when you needed it?