The Culling Trials 3 (Shadowspell Academy #3)(8)

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black,” Orin threw back.

“Not the time, boys!” I said as I pushed another zombie back, shoving it with my boot. My foot sunk into its chest, trapped for a second by the partially shattered ribcage. I snarled and shook my foot harder until it was free, although covered in slimy substances I didn’t want to identify.

I grabbed Wally by the arm and we bolted for the mausoleum. Part of me still worried Orin would turn on us, that he was potentially leading us into a trap, but I didn’t see any other choice.

Orin led the way, cutting through the zombies with his elongated creepy claw fingers. The zombies fell under his hands better than any other weapon we’d used so far. A quick glance down at Pete showed that while his fur was covered in zombie guts, he’d suffered no bites.

“No bites?” I asked the others as we jogged along, Wally in the center of us. She was strangely silent, and I knew why without asking.

This was really her test, and so far she’d done nothing but give us crappy odds. She seemed to have frozen.

Orin made getting to the mausoleum seem easy. I should have been happy, but the very fact that it seemed easy felt wrong.

“Slow down.” I said. “Something’s off.”

“If we slow down, we aren’t going to make it,” Ethan pointed his wand up into the air and shot a burst of light that spread out around us, showing me just what we were facing. Easily a thousand zombies moved in on us. I could see them under the fan of light. Goblins, gargoyles, shifters, and men and women who held splintered wands in their gnarled and rotting hands.

Except...I didn’t see any vampires.

Or any obvious Shades.

“Once we’re up on the building, what then?” I asked. “We’ll be surrounded and there will be no way out.”

“We have no choice,” Ethan yelled. “We can’t outrun them!”

A zombie goblin launched itself at Ethan as if to help make his point. Pete shot forward, taking the shambling undead out by the legs, but it wasn’t down for good. It rolled over and pushed itself toward us again.

Like a swarm of ants. I’d seen red army ants devour a downed bird. You’d think the bird could escape, but after a thousand tiny bites, it gave up.

And the ants had their prize.

I wanted to vomit. This was not an enemy that could be killed or outrun.

But I also knew that pinning ourselves down without an out could—no, would—get us killed.

Because there was no doubt in my mind that Wally was right. This was no normal trial. It was meant to do one thing and one thing only.

Eliminate me.





Chapter 4





“We have no choice but to go to the mausoleum. Maybe I can blast them from there,” Ethan repeated. The graveyard was full of moving parts, along with the constant groaning and shuffling of the undead as they came for us en masse. I looked to Wally.

“Wally, talk to us. Talk to me.”

“We need high ground,” she said, her eyes closed. “Then maybe…maybe I could do something.”

Ethan shook his head and muttered “useless” under his breath.

“Then we go.” We started out again, this time without hesitation.

Orin reached the building first, climbed up and then waited, watching with his flat black eyes as we drew close.

The mausoleum was a perfect square building with a few ornate edges, a flat roof, and no visible ladder to the top. I hurried forward, driving Wally and Pete ahead of me.

I bent and grabbed Pete around the middle and threw him up onto the building.

Damn it, I hate it when you do that! his voice echoed in my head.

I grinned. “You just wish you had wings.”

“Give me a boost!” Ethan shouted.

“I am right beside you, idiot.” I crouched beside him, cupping my hands, and then hoisted him up.

“Come on, Wally, you’re next.” I turned to see her standing behind me, her eyes despondent, arms wrapped around herself as if she wished she could shrink right where she stood.

“You should just leave me here,” she said. “He’s right, I’m useless to the group. I know stats, I know numbers, but I’ve never been trained as a necromancer. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to help our group. I can feel the dead, but I don’t know how to stop them. I can’t…. I can’t, Wild. I’m not good like the rest of you.” Her eyes flooded with tears.

“Look—” I waved a hand at the oncoming horde. “We don’t have time for you to doubt yourself. We need you to be the necromancer of this group. We need you to be a badass raiser of the dead.” I crouched beside her, and she reluctantly put her foot in the cup of my fingers.

I stood, boosting her high into the air. She scrambled over the edge, and I turned to see the zombies coming for me.

A semi-circle of the undead reached for me as a unit, smiles on their rotting faces. Those smiles sent chills of warning through me, and not the “hey, zombies are coming to eat you” kind of warning. This was more like “hey, whoever is running these zombies is coming for you,” which was infinitely worse in my opinion. Like the necromancer controlling them could see through their eyes and knew his prey was right in front of him.

I lashed out, shoving them back, breaking off bits and pieces as fast as I could. Strike, lunge, rinse, repeat. A bite landed on my forearm, and I howled as the zombie’s teeth dug into me, tearing flesh. The teeth were jagged, and they clamped on with a ferocity that would give any wolf a run for its money.