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  Academy of Spirits and Shadows, Book #2

  Haunted

  Haunted © C.M. Stunich 2018

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  The For information address Sarian Royal Indie Publishing, 89365 Old Mohawk Rd, Springfield, OR 97478.

  www.cmstunich.com

  Cover art and design © Amanda Carroll and Sarian Royal

  The The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, businesses, or locales is coincidental and is not intended by the author.

  this book is dedicated Kash.

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  I knew something was wrong the moment I took off from a deserted patch of beach in Rúnda. The black sands that line the edge of the Ghost Sea were sparkling with gray specks of ash from the active volcano, the waters bubbling and boiling from the molten lava flowing just beneath the surface.

  I should have been concentrating on the winds, thick with debris and hot as Hell, sweeping down the side mountain and choking me. I should’ve been wondering if my wings might melt off and drop me into a frothing sea, hot enough to incinerate my flesh in seconds. And I really shouldn’t have been so focused on Brynn of Haversey.

  But when I felt a sudden surge of pain and panic in my chest, I knew something was wrong. I might not have any sort of magical connection to Brynn, not yet, but when a griffin chooses his mate, something resolute settles in his chest. He knows. He just fucking knows if his soul mate is in trouble.

  My wings beat in slow, heavy motions, like the brown and white feathers were trying to propel me through quicksand. There was a reason black earth cost so much—if one could find it at all. I’d be lucky to get out of here alive.

  With a roar of frustration, I worked my wings until my back muscles screamed, until my heart pounded so fiercely that my vision became spotty. But I worked my way out of the strange swirling downdrafts and set myself on a course, due north and straight toward New Akyumen.

  Please Haversey, Goddess of Light, protect Brynn until I can get to her! Reisender, God of Travelers, give me the strength to make the journey without stopping. That last prayer was a stretch, but I couldn’t imagine stopping at the halfway mark to rest. How the fuck could I sleep when every signal my mate was sending said she needed me?

  Another growl slipped past the razor sharpness of my beak as tilted on the wind and relaxed my wings, letting them catch the air so I didn’t have to work so damn hard. Flapping like a wounded bird might give me some extra speed, but it took too much energy. There wasn’t a chance in Hellim’s Hell that I could keep that up and expect to make the return trip without a single stop.

  I had to be practical and yet … the thought that Brynn was suffering was killing me.

  What the fuck was going on back at the Royal College?

  After that initial burst of pain and fear from Brynn … she went silent. I could feel that she was still alive, but she was emotionless, like she was in a sleep beyond sleep. That’s what really did it, more so even than the strong emotions I’d sensed earlier, that emptiness …

  When I finally landed outside the walls of New Akyumen, I was falling apart. I shifted before I even touched down on the grass, hitting the earth with a grunt and rolling several times before I came to an abrupt stop against a tree. My wings were limp, the muscles numb and pushed to their absolute limit.

  “Vexer!” My brother, Yared, was there in an instant, kneeling by my side with a female griffin by the name of Catharsa right behind him. I pushed them both aside as I struggled to sit up and disentangle myself from my pack. “What the Hell are you doing back here so early? You look like death warmed up.”

  “Get me some water,” I managed to choke out as my brother scrambled to his feet, his blue-gray eyes wide with concern as he scrambled over to the small well and used the tin cup to bring me cool, fresh Amerin groundwater. As soon as I’d downed enough to soothe my aching throat, I tossed the cup aside and grabbed Yared by the shirt. “Did something happen in the city? Another attack, maybe, like … All Haunts’ Eve?”

  “Nothing,” Catharsa—aka Cat—said as she peered into my face with concern. For a while now, I’d noticed her eyes following me when I came and went with customers. She always sat too close to me at the fire, put her hand on my knee. She’d be disappointed to find out I’d settled on a mate. “Why?”

  Pushing to my feet, I snatched the bottle of Bösewicht liquor that Yared was handing out to me and took a hearty swig. Whatever was happening to Brynn was happening behind the closed doors of the Royal College then. Now I just had to find a way to get in there.

  “We didn’t expect you back for several days,” Yared continued when he realized I wasn’t going to answer Cat’s question. I ignored him, dumping my clothes out onto the grass and yanking on black breeches, a loose white shirt, and brown boots before taking off toward the city gates. “Vex, what are you doing?”

  “I need to see Brynn,” I told him, noticing that Cat’s footsteps faltered, her brown and white wings tucking in close to her back. She scooped some brunette hair behind one ear and let Yared follow me onto the cobblestone streets of New Akyumen.

  “What’s going on? Do you need help?” he asked, but I was already shaking my head. Trying to break into the Royal College … was a fool’s mission on the best of days. I was willing to risk whatever it took to get to Brynn, but I wasn’t about to drag my brother along for the ride.

  “Go comfort Cat,” I said with a tight smile, giving Yared a knowing look. Maybe once Catharsa realized I wasn’t into her, she’d also see that my brother had been carrying a torch for a long, long time. “I’ve got some business to take care of, but I’ll see you at the Travelers’ Guild meeting in the morning.” I saluted Yared, turned, and took off up the hill in the direction of the academy.

  If I’d known that was my last moment to see him while I was still alive, I probably would’ve added I love you onto the end of that statement. As things were, I was in a hurry, bolting up the cobblestones as fast as my boots would carry me. It wasn’t until I got to the gates that I started to ponder how the fuck I was going to get past them.

  It was a well-known fact that the Royal College was home to a vast horde of wealth—ancient artifacts, the royal jewels, and precious tomes as well as the homes of well-paid staff and high-ranking noble students. If it were at all penetrable, it’d be any thief’s dream.

  Making sure my sleeves were pushed up enough to show off the Travelers’ Guild tattoos on my hands, I started to walk the length of the front wall, noting the extra guards on duty. Not only were the small towers filled with the usual night watch, but soldiers dressed in the queen’s livery were lounging here are there: across the street, on a bench, leaning against the wall itself. Security had certainly been heightened since the attack on the prince, but something else must’ve gone on inside these walls for there to be so many women and men with their eyes on the academy specifically.

  After a while, I decided to head the long way around, back outside the city and toward the forest entrance. It was even worse over there, twice as many guards armed with magic and swords and torches. I didn’t let myself get frustrated, backtracking toward the city and wondering if I might be able to use my position in the guild to book a tour. Once a month, high-ranking individuals could arrange to tour the grounds. It was the queen’s
way of appeasing all those wealthy parents whose children were admitted into the academy, but who’d never been students themselves. Since the new school year had just started, there was likely to be one coming up soon.

  But fuck, it would kill me to wait, even if only a few days.

  Gritting my teeth, I continued back to the city entrance, just to see if there was something subtle I’d overlooked.

  “Are you Vexer?” a voice asked as I hit the end of the wall closest the castle.

  A small fox stepped out of the shadows, the white runes on its forehead identifying it as the shadow I’d seen on the Vaennish prince’s shoulders. Trubble, was his name if I remembered correctly. And if I looked like death warmed up, the fox was already dead and buried. His copper eyes were glassy and faraway, and when he walked, he stumbled.

  “I am,” I said, waiting as the shadow made his way over to me.

  “Well, don’t just stand there—pick me up,” he snapped, baring two rows of small, sharp teeth. When I didn’t rush to comply, he rolled his eyes and flicked his nine tails in irritation, like a cat. I did the same with my own, the tawny muscular length of my lion’s tail swishing across the cobblestones. “If you want to help Brynn and …” Trubble trailed off with a sigh, lowered his front half to the ground in a tired stretch and sat back down, curling his tails tightly around his front. “Just pick me up and let’s go.”

  “What happened here?” I asked, shifting my wings as I knelt down and took the small creature in my arms. If Trubble was out here without Dyre when clearly, they’d been bound together then I was right; something awful had happened. It was more than likely that the Vaennish prince was dead. My heart started to thunder, but I ignored it, pushing my pain aside. He’d said I could help Brynn, and I could sense her alive on the other side of this wall. That was all I needed.

  “Hard to say,” Trubble murmured, crawling up and around my shoulders. “It all happened so fast …” He trailed off as he draped himself over my head and then, with a flicker of magic, shifted into that fox mask Dyre wore the night of the attack on the Vibrant dance house. “Look up,” his voice whispered into my mind. Rather than panic, I lifted my head and noticed the ghost of that professor sitting on the edge of the wall. What was his name? Spicer? Something like that anyway.

  “If you want to get into the Royal College, you’ll need to use the catacombs,” he said, his mask a careful expression of neutrality. Pissed me off something fierce because I knew that there was something bigger going on and nobody was telling me shit. But at least I could see ghosts now. If anyone knew where to find Brynn, it would be a spirit.

  “I thought you were bound to that building,” I asked, gesturing randomly to the west. Brynn had pointed out her first class of the day from the cityside gates and mentioned the professor trapped within the old stone. We were currently at the eastern end of campus, about as far from that building as one could get and way outside the range of a normal ghost.

  “Long story,” the professor said, slicking his fingers through his hair until it stuck straight up. “Do you know where the old sanitation facility is?” I raised a brow at him, but I doubted he could see it beneath the mask—the living mask. Shifting, I tucked my wings in close and tried not to be disturbed at the fact that I was wearing an actual shadow on my face. But for Brynn, I’d fight through Hellhounds and razor wolves in a thunderstorm … and then worry about the weirdness of it all later. “Doesn’t matter. The fox does. I got him out the same way I’m going to get you in.”

  “And don’t worry about guards—I’ve already killed them all,” Trubble whispered in my head, making me grit my teeth. Whatever guards were protecting the Royal College weren’t bad people and didn’t deserve to die. I guessed I’d rescue Brynn first and address that issue later. Had I not picked the worst possible time to leave on this supply run? Fuck Reisender’s hairy nuts.

  “Hurry up. Every shift change, a few soldiers head down to check on the catacomb entrance. As soon as they find the body, they’ll know the campus has been breached. You’ll have minutes at best before they use a spell, find you, and hang you.” The professor smiled tightly at me before disappearing and leaving me alone with the shadow.

  “The old sanitation facility is south of here. Three streets over, take a left, and then use the broken window in the back of the bakery to get in.” I shivered at Trubble’s voice in my head but took off anyway, using a brisk but reasonable pace. The last thing I wanted was to get stopped by a night guard for sprinting through dark alleys.

  “Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on here?” I whispered as I followed the fox’s instructions, finding myself standing next to a broken window in the back of Upper Crust Bread and Baked Goods, such a clever little name.

  “Not until your ass is in the catacombs and running full-out!” Trubble snapped as I gritted my feet and used my boot to kick in the rest of the glass shards. There should be a spell on this place … “I already took care of the basics,” he added as I crawled in the window and onto a table, dropping my boots to the floor. “Spells, angry bakers, dragons.” I paused as I noticed a woman lying on the floor with a trickle of blood leaking from her scalp. Kneeling down next to her, I checked for a pulse as Trubble sighed. She was, in fact, still alive. “And yes, I said dragons. So go before it wakes up and stop questioning every fucking thing I’ve already done. You’re running on repeat, griffin.”

  “The name’s Vexer,” I snarled, standing back up. “And if I don’t think what you’re doing is right, I’ll call your ass out on it whether you’re helping me or not.”

  “Oh? One of those self-righteous types? Well, I don’t have time for piety and morality. My brother died tonight, and I need that spirit whisperer alive and awake.” A sharp pain kissed my cheeks on both sides, drawing tiny rivulets of blood. The son of a bitch was biting me! When I reached up to tear him off my face, he dug in even harder, tearing my flesh with each pull of the mask. “It’s futile to fight me. Once you’ve accepted me, I own you. Now, open that hatch there, the one they use to deliver flour and climb into it. There’s a false bottom.”

  Releasing the mask with a growl, I did as the damn shadow asked, yanking open a hatch in the back wall. A cart would pull up outside, stacked with sacks of flour. The driver would put them at the opening on the outside, cut the tops, and then pour them in here. It was a huge, stone-lined little chamber, more than big enough for me to crawl into. As soon as I did, I felt around on the bottom for a lever, pulled it … and felt myself falling.

  With a grunt, I landed on a wet slab of stone, a snarl of anguish slipping past my lips as my pelvis hit first and then the rest of me. For a moment there, I was temporarily stunned. As I struggled to my feet, Trubble slipped off my head and reassumed his small fox form, tails flicking in frustration.

  “Hurry up,” he growled, the only light in the room coming from those white runes on Trubble’s forehead. With a ripple and shake of his coat, he sent little balls of purple-blue foxfire up to hover near the ceiling, lighting our way down a cramped, narrow tunnel with stone walls and tiny electric fish zipping around in the canal below us.

  They were known as Heart Stoppers because one touch, one single touch and they would stop a person’s heart and then scatter. To start it up again, you’d either need a second shock from one of the slippery little fish, a flesh whisperer, or a weather whisperer. None of which we had on us. Clearly, the fish were kept here for a reason.

  “This is the only spot with a walkway,” Trubble continued as I crouched and rubbed at the bruise on my side. The ceiling was a little too low for me to walk upright; my wings were already brushing against the wet, stone surface as I squatted in front of the small fox. I could shift, but my other form was hardly well-equipped for narrow spaces, particularly if it meant putting four limbs into that water with the Heart Stoppers. “Look behind you.” The small creature smirked at me as I struggled to turn and found a metal door, torn off the hinges and lying on the ground next to a s
hattered lock and the burnt marks of a broken spell. “There are rubber pants and boots in there; get them on and let’s go.”

  “You seem strangely well-prepared for this moment,” I grumbled as I struggled into the suspenders and boots, dropping myself over the edge of the canal and into the water. One of the tiny electric fish attacked my toe, sending out a wave of energy that crackled the water around me. I made sure to keep my wings clear and waited for the rest of the school to disappear down the tunnel.

  “Clearly, you were obsessed with the spirit whisperer girl; I knew you’d come.” I started walking when the fox let out a sound of exasperation, and I backed up against the stone walkway, letting him curl around my shoulders again. “Well, mostly it was the others that thought you’d come, but what choices did I have?”

  “What happened to Brynn?” I asked again as I started running. Hadn’t the arrogant little asshole agreed to tell me once I was down here? Water splashed up around as I followed my magic down one tunnel after another, blazing through the stone maze like I’d been here a thousand times before. The magic of Reisender was subtle, but incredibly useful in a pinch. I always knew where I was go, and there were advantages to being a man who never got lost.

  “Sleep whisperer,” the fox said grimly, and I gritted my teeth. That would explain the emotionless detachment I felt from Brynn. Good thing I had the cure for the spell that gripped her. Any other man might’ve questioned himself, but like I said, I always knew where I was going. “Razor wolf attack. My brother was killed defending your girlfriend.” The shadow creature bit me lightly on the ear, but I ignored him. If he’d wanted to bite it off, he very well could. An unbound shadow was a dangerous thing, as evidenced by the creatures that’d killed Prince Airmienan. No wonder the little fox’d been able to take out the guards and the spells down here; with his brother dead, he was free to do whatever the hell he wanted.

 
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