Abyssal Arcanist [Chapter 16]

Hey peeps,

Here is more Abyssal Arcanist! Enjoy!

Shami

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE CLASS TOGETHER AGAIN

For a long moment after I voiced my question, Deimos said nothing. I figured he wouldn’t answer me, so I turned away, cursing myself for not opening with the question first. I shouldn’t have taunted the man.

“I did not harm your mother,” the Death Lord eventually stated, surprising me.

I whirled back around, my heart hammering. “R-Really?”

“While it would be amusing to torment you with a lie about how I made her suffer, the truth is I couldn’t find her soul. She was either reincarnated or was consumed by the elder creatures who dwell in the depths of the abyssal hells.”

I stepped closer to the cage, my chest twisting in agony. “You don’t know which?”

In a tone that bordered on bored, Deimos said, “I do not. I searched for her, hoping I could use her against you—to force you to cooperate—but I failed to locate her.”

Flustered, and unsure of what to do with my anxiety, I paced in a small circle for a moment. Then I ruffled my hair and rubbed the side of my neck. When I glanced back at the stone prison, the Death Lord still seemed completely disinterested.

“Why tell me that?” I walked back over to the bars. “Why not lie? I mean, what’s there to be gained by just telling me what happened?”

Deimos lifted an eyebrow. Then he coughed a laugh. “It appears my thoughts are bleeding into your dreams, child.” He motioned to the coliseum with a quick jut of his chin. “Eventually you will see if I’m lying. And if you catch me in a falsehood, all future threats become meaningless.”

I hadn’t thought of that. With a hesitant glance, I examined the bizarre dreamscape. This was Deimos’s memory, at some level. Would I have dreams where he searched for my mother in the abyssal hells?

Death Lord Deimos placed a hand on one of the stone bars and glared down at me. “So when I say I’ll make you regret holding me here, I hope you realize that I mean every word.”

Someone shook me awake.

In an instant, I was jerked upright, my consciousness ripped from the dreamscape and back into the waking world. It was so sudden, and startling, I almost shouted, but instead, I stared into a set of gray-blue eyes that resembled my own.

Sorin sat on the edge of my bed, both his large hands on my shoulders. I shook my head and pushed one of his hands away, fearful he would touch the shapeshifting weapon I kept on my body.

“Gray?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

I ran a hand down my face, clearing away a bucket load of sweat. Why was I so anxious? “I’m fine.” Then I glanced around.

Everyone was awake. Nasbit, Raaza—even Knovak, who remained aloof, seemed concerned. I met their gazes and then spotted Twain, still in his ethereal whelk form, resting on the mattress next to me.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

My brother furrowed his brow. “You tell us. You were thrashing around while you slept. When I checked on you, your skin was pale and you were sweating. Gray, you don’t look well.”

Twain wiggled his tentacles. “I was getting worried, too.”

“Were you bothered by the Death Lord?” Nasbit asked. He grabbed his notebook, scooted to the edge of his bed, and held his pencil poised over the parchment. His brown hair was squished to the side, held up in an awkward wave. “I’ll take notes about everything.”

Raaza leapt to the foot of his bed, the only one of us who opted not to wear a nightshirt. I didn’t realize until then, but the man had faint scars on his chest that matched the claw-like markings on his face. “Tell us what happened,” Raaza demanded. “I need to know.”

“You’re not going to get possessed again, are you?” Knovak stood by his bed, his arms crossed over his silky nightshirt. “I mean, I think we shouldn’t rule that out as a possibility. We should… probably have a plan in place in case something happens. A failsafe, if you will.”

My brother ignored their commentary and gently patted my back. His eyes—the same color as mine—calmed me more than usual. It reminded me of our mother, and knowing she hadn’t been harmed because of me, put me at ease.

“I had a dream about an underground coliseum,” I muttered. “It was just… really intense.” When I faced Sorin, I forced a smile. “Deimos was in the dream, but he didn’t hurt me.” I shot Knovak a glower. “And he’s not going to possess me. You don’t have to worry.”

“I still think we should have a contingency in place,” Knovak whispered. He glanced away, his shoulders stiff.

“Heh.” Raaza dismissively waved his hand. “It’s not like you’re going to do anything if Gray is possessed. You were already defeated by Deimos, and unicorns are so much weaker than abyssal dragons.”

“I can get stronger,” Knovak snapped. He stepped around his bed, his fingers digging into his biceps as he held himself. “You’ll see!”

“Don’t say things that are blatantly untrue. You’ll never get strong enough to handle a master dragon arcanist.”

Sorin stood and held up his hands. “C’mon. Enough of that. We don’t need to argue amongst ourselves.” He stepped between the many beds in the room, grinning at the others like he hoped they would do the same in return. No one did.

“I do think arguing is pointless,” Nasbit eventually muttered.

“Yes. It is.” Sorin clapped his hands once. “Together we improve, achieve, and strive—in collaboration, our greatness shall thrive.”

“That’s how we’ll defeat Death Lord Deimos,” Raaza murmured, pointing to my brother. “Deimos will cringe to death hearing Sorin’s rhymes.”

Nasbit wrote something in his notebook. Then he slid his gaze over to Raaza, a slight frown on his round face. “I enjoy Sorin’s positive disposition and dedication to poetry. You shouldn’t belittle it.”

“Yeah,” I said as I threw my legs over the side of the bed. “You’re a grump when you wake up in the middle of the night, Raaza. Lay off my brother and take a nap, ya rube.”

Twain giggled. “He reminds me of an angry porcupine.”

After a short sigh, Sorin hung his head. I immediately understood his frustration. He wanted us to all get along, and it seemed we were having problems with that. Perhaps it was because everyone was woken up in the middle of their sleep…

It was my fault.

So I should make it better.

I stood. “Hey, listen,” I muttered. Then I glanced around and I met everyone’s gaze. “I really appreciate everything you all have done for me. Thank you all for waking me up and checking on me.”

The others were quiet.

Twain’s bubbled and shifted until he melted back into his orange kitten form. The arcanist mark on my forehead transformed back into a blank star.

“You don’t need to thank us,” Nasbit said, breaking the silence. “I think we should work on our camaraderie—it may prevent disaster in the future. Raaza, that especially means you.”

Raaza exhaled. After scratching some of the scars on his chest, he leaned back in his bed. “I’ve never shared a room with other people like this before. Actually… If I’m going to be honest, I’ve never been around this many my age. I spent a lot of time working for thugs.”

“It shows,” Knovak quipped.

“Whoa, whoa!” Sorin moved over to Raaza’s bed and had a seat next to the man. With a smile, my brother wrapped an arm around Raaza’s shoulders and pulled him close. “You’re in good company! You see, Gray and I have been together forever. Since birth. It can be hard sometimes, sharing a space with someone, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. You need to embrace all the fun times in life.”

Raaza frowned, his eyes on Sorin’s arm. He squirmed until he freed himself of my brother’s grip. “Uh-huh. Well, I’ll try. I suppose it would be better if I had… arcanist friends…”

“That’s the spirit!”

I rubbed my face, my skin hot. Sorin was a little much at times.

But it was reassuring to hear he appreciated my company.

I had taken my father’s love for granted, but it occurred to me then that perhaps I had taken my brother’s for granted as well.

“Well, if nothing bad happened in Gray’s dream, I suggest we all head back to bed.” Nasbit set his notebook down on his nightstand. He glanced between us. “We all need a good night’s rest if we’re going to learn about mystical creatures tomorrow in class.”

Oh, that was right. I had almost forgotten.

Tomorrow we would attend Professor Helmith’s class, only she wouldn’t be there to teach it.

Her husband would be.

***

In the morning, I headed for the classroom with everyone else. Raaza, Knovak, and Nasbit seemed tired, and I didn’t blame them. Phila and Nini weren’t though. And the two of them chatted a bit as we walked, much to my surprise.

“I went to the library,” Phila said, her eyes bright. “They have dozens of books on the subject of archery. Did you know that roc arcanists are some of the best archers and riflemen in the world? It’s because of their wind evocation.”

Nini tapped the tips of her fingers together. “Oh? Really? I… uh… I read about famous reaper arcanists, but I don’t think I should share my findings in polite society.”

I was about the chime into the conversation—and talk about how most reaper arcanists I knew had been pirates or bounty hunters—but I stopped myself short when I spotted two individuals in front of the classroom door.

Ashlyn Kross and Exie Lolian—the last two arcanists in our class.

Ever since the disaster at Ashlyn’s cotillion, I hadn’t heard from her. My first thought was to run over and ask if she had married her sad sack of a fiancé yet, but I dreaded the answer. I still had hopes to convince her father that I was a better suitor, but if she had already wed, that would be a moot point.

Ashlyn had her blonde hair in a tight ponytail, and she stood with her arms crossed and her feet set apart. From a glance, she seemed irritated. Or perhaps guarded. Her athletic frame and build almost made her seem like she was ready to pounce on the first person who got close.

Exie was the exact opposite. Her curly chestnut hair hung lose around her face. She had the smoothest, most luscious skin in class, and an hourglass figure she decided to accentuate by wearing a belt over her robes. No one else did that, but Exie really wasn’t like anyone else here.

Exie’s eldrin, the erlking fairy, Rex, fluttered around her head. He was so small, he could fly through the halls of the Academy without a problem.

Ashlyn’s typhoon dragon, on the other hand, was too large for that. Her dragon would likely be waiting for us in the classroom, since he would have to take the treehouse walkways to get anywhere.

Phila brightened when she saw the other two girls. “Ash! Ex! You’re both back.” She hurried over and gave the other girls a brief hug. Then she stepped away and lightly clapped her hands together once. “I was so worried neither of you would return.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Ashlyn stated. The heat in her words was unmistakable. “For the record, my father tried to convince me to stay home, but then I reminded him that my brother wouldn’t have stayed away from the Academy in a similar situation, and only then did my father allow me to return.”

Exie fluffed her brown hair. “My father gives me whatever I want. I told him I wanted to return to class, and he sent me here straight away.”

Phila nodded, and the instant Exie was done speaking, she said, “Well, I know that Ashlyn’s cotillion didn’t go as planned, but I enjoyed everything beforehand. So much so, that I went home, and told my family, and they agreed that I could have my own cotillion. Isn’t that lovely?”

Nasbit groaned so loud it almost startled me.

“I already had my cotillion,” Exie stated as she rolled her eyes. “Why has everyone here waited so long? You’re supposed to do it once you become an arcanist.”

“We didn’t really have them where I grew up.” Phila then motioned to our whole class. “And I think it would be wonderful if it was just all of us for my cotillion—right here in the Academy. I don’t want to risk any, um, villainous arcanist or bizarre gateways to the abyssal hells.”

Ashlyn narrowed her eyes into a glare.

“Sorry,” Phila muttered. “I didn’t mean to speak poorly about your event.”

“It’s fine.” Ashlyn turned sharply on her heel. “Let’s just get to class.” She motioned to the door. “I don’t want to talk about any parties or celebrations. I just want to get this over with.”

She never looked in my direction. It was obviously a purposeful decision. I silently cursed the abyssal hells, wondering what she was thinking.

Everyone filed into the classroom after her declaration, and I followed in behind my brother. Ashlyn avoided my gaze, even as I walked by. That was fine—I’d speak to her eventually. Perhaps once I had all the Death Lord stuff under control.