Graevale (The Medoran Chronicles) Page 12

  “Hunter,” Darrius admonished. “I’m not sure—”

  “You’d rather she search blind and stumble upon them unprepared?” Hunter interrupted, eyebrows raised. “Because she will. Everyone here knows it.”

  Alex wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not.

  “But she’s just a child,” Darrius argued, causing Alex to turn narrowed eyes his way. He, of all people, knew better than to say something like that. But surprisingly, Karter spoke up before she could.

  With a snort, the Combat teacher said, “Since arriving in this world, Jennings has never been a ‘child’. If I’d known everything, I would’ve continued her training myself so she can get out there and do what she has to do.” A thoughtful pause. “I think she’s in much better hands with the Meyarins, though. That Zain sure knows what he’s doing.”

  That much was true, so Alex didn’t say anything. But she was touched by the thought of Karter semi-offering his time again, even if she would have hated every moment of his drill-sergeant regime.

  “It’s natural that you want to protect her, Headmaster,” Maggie said. “But now more than ever, Alex is capable of looking after herself.”

  While the teachers didn’t know about Alex’s trip to the past, she’d told them of her Meyarin blood and her heightened, as well as trained, abilities. Having not witnessed her in action and therefore struggling to believe her claims—because even in the past week of Combat classes she had been careful to switch off her Meyarin-ness and fight as a human—they still understood what Maggie was referencing.

  “You are a student at this academy, Alex, and I have a responsibility towards you,” Darrius said. “If you do this—if you go out there—I can’t guarantee your safety.”

  A burst of laughter escaped Alex. “Where was this concern when you sent me off to Meya the first time, Darrius? How’s that hindsight treating you?”

  He flinched, and for a moment Alex felt awful. She didn’t blame him for what had happened, not at all. With everything she now knew, she had no doubt Aven would have found a way to return to Meya sooner or later. She just would have preferred it was later. And if Darrius had never asked her to visit Meya the first time, though he’d certainly had his reasons, then the following events wouldn’t have spiralled as far—or as quickly—as they had.

  Darrius, Alex knew, was only human. He couldn’t have known what was coming. But this time Alex had forewarning of what to expect, and she was determined to use that knowledge to her advantage.

  “Don’t you get it, Darrius?” she said quietly. “From here on out, you can’t guarantee my safety anywhere. You just have to trust that I’m doing what needs to be done and, hopefully, it’ll lead to a time when we’re all safe again.”

  She held his eyes, watching as the emotions passed over his weary, lined face. Guilt. Fear. Sadness. Resignation…

  … And then, finally, hope.

  It was the last that Alex focused on, and she sent him a small smile, relieved when he returned it with a slight nod of acceptance.

  “Hunter is right,” Darrius said, sitting taller in his seat with his new resolve. “Flips, Jarnocks, Shadow Walkers and Dayriders. If you want to warn the mortal races and bring them on board as allies in this war, they’re the ones you need to convince.”

  “It will not be easy,” Caspar Lennox said. “The Jarnocks and Flips keep to themselves, their territories far enough removed that they will not believe in the danger. And my race, in particular, is known for being obstinate and detached. We are unmoved by the plights of humans, so if you fail to convince the elders of Aven’s intent towards all mortals, then they will be of no aid.”

  From what little Alex knew of her stoic Shadow Walker professor, that didn’t come as much of a surprise.

  “The Dayriders are even worse than us,” Caspar Lennox continued, a sour note to his lyrical voice. “An imperious, overbearing race, the lot of them. You would be better to count them out of the equation, for all the good reasoning with them will do you.”

  That certainly didn’t bode well.

  “Don’t listen to him,” Maggie told Alex, looking strangely amused. “Shadow Walkers and Dayriders have been on opposite sides of the same coin since the beginning of time.”

  And here I am, hoping they’ll agree to work together, Alex thought woefully. Aloud, she said, “Well, let’s try to be optimistic and believe this’ll be a case of, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend’.”

  If the doubtful looks in the room were any indication, she had her work cut out for her.

  “I know you have to do this,” Darrius said, “but I still don’t like the idea of you going out there alone.”

  “I’m not going alone.” Alex motioned to Jordan, D.C. and Bear, who had remained silent for most of the meeting. “They’re coming with me.”

  A weighty pause.

  Then came Hunter’s dry voice. “Well, I feel comforted.”

  Alex wasn’t sure which of her friends she heard grumble with offence, but she thought it might have been all three.

  “A never-before-seen alliance between the mortal races rests on the wits of four teenagers,” Caspar Lennox said, shadows swirling around him as he shook his head. “I, too, struggle to find comfort in this.”

  “Have a little faith,” Fletcher said, his lips twitching. “If anyone can do it, it’ll be Alex and her friends.”

  Karter grunted. “Stubborn as an ox, Jennings is. They won’t stand a chance.”

  It was another one of those not-quite compliments that Alex wasn’t sure how to take, so she just offered a smile to the room.

  “Now that we’re in agreement,” she said, “tell me everything.”

  After spending hours with her teachers and finding they possessed an appalling lack of knowledge about the other races, Alex pulled Fletcher aside as everyone was leaving, waving her friends ahead and saying she needed to have a word with the doctor.

  Intrigued, Fletcher humoured her request to speak with him along with both her Chemistry and Medical Science teachers, and he led the way to finding them. Once the four were holed up together in Fitzy’s quarters—an accident waiting to happen, with all the bubbling experiments and mini-explosions occurring around the room—Alex got straight to the point.

  “I know you two are on the fence about the whole Aven-Meyarin-army deal, and that’s your prerogative,” she said to Fitzy and Luranda. “But I have a question for you all, so if it’ll make you feel better, consider it hypothetical.”

  Luranda smoothed the material of her multi-coloured coat and narrowed her eyes at Alex. But the stern effect was lost when one of Fitzy’s experiments exploded with a loud pop and an eruption of neon pink sparks, causing Luranda to jump in fright and direct her scowl towards her colleague.

  “Sorry! Sorry!” Fitzy cried, leaping up from his armchair to smother the sparks before returning to where they all sat, patting down the smoking ends of his hair. “What were you saying, Anastasia?”

  Alex didn’t correct him about her name. She’d long since learned that he was a genius regarding certain things and a complete scatterbrain when it came to others.

  “Meyarins are immortal, but they can still die of fatal wounds,” Alex said. “Of course, they also have great speed and strength at their disposal, so it’s hard to inflict those fatal wounds, but it’s certainly not impossible.”

  “I’m not sure I like where this is going,” Luranda said primly.

  Alex raised her hands. “Give me a second. I have a point.”

  The Medical Science professor pursed her lips but didn’t argue further.

  “If the war I believe is coming, comes,” Alex continued, “I don’t think it’s right that the Claimed Meyarins should be forced into a battle where they might die.”

  “What are you suggesting, Alex?” Fletcher asked. “That we don’t fight back?”

  “Not at all. That would be suicide.”

  “Then what—”

  “I want to know if it might be p
ossible to come up with a weapon that could inflict enough damage to incapacitate, rather than kill them,” Alex interrupted.

  Fletcher looked thoughtful as he said, “Do you mean like a tranquilliser?”

  “Something like that,” Alex agreed. “But the problem is, there’s only one thing other than a fatal wound or crippling injury that can take down a Meyarin.”

  The doctor’s eyes brightened with understanding. “Hyroa blood.”

  “Hyroa blood,” Alex confirmed. “Or as they call it, Sarnaph blood. It’s so toxic to them that the slightest contamination can lead to death. But somehow you were able to save Zain after he’d been poisoned by Aven’s laced arrow. That must mean you have a cure.”

  “It wasn’t a pleasant experience for him,” Fletcher said, “but yes, I was able to dilute the foreign blood and break it down until it was drawn from his system through a process similar to osmosis.”

  “Do you think you could mass-produce that kind of treatment?”

  Fletcher considered her question and said, “I… believe so.”

  Alex nodded and turned to her Medical Science teacher. “Professor Luranda, you had a sample of the blood in class a few months back. Do you have more?”

  Behind her shrewdness, Alex could see a flare of respect in her eyes. “Not enough for what you require. But I believe Hunter would be able to procure more if asked.”

  Alex didn’t want to know how her SAS teacher might get his hands on Hyroa blood. She only hoped it wouldn’t involve a class field trip.

  “And what would you say is the best way for it to be administered?” Alex asked the strict but medically savvy teacher.

  Luranda appeared torn, like she was considering the consequences if she answered. But then she straightened her spine as if coming to the realisation that ultimately Alex’s idea would be helping to save innocent lives—Meyarin and mortal alike. “We can dip weapons into the blood, but that would still require each target to receive an open wound. The better way would be to make it airborne.”

  “Like a pathogen?” Alex asked, mentally likening it to a biological weapon. “Something for them to inhale?”

  “No,” Luranda said, her eyes losing focus as she concentrated. “For there to be any weakening effect, the Hyroa blood has to at the very least make physical contact with a Meyarin’s skin. But if we can create a spray device to distribute the blood across a large surface, it could debilitate all those in the splatter range.”

  At the imagery that sprung to mind, there was no way Alex could fight against scrunching up her nose. ‘Splatter range’? Gross.

  “That’s actually a clever idea,” Fletcher said, stroking his chin. “The Hyroa blood will be much less toxic if it doesn’t hit the bloodstream straight away. Without an open wound, it will still make them very ill, but it will also be unlikely to kill anyone before a cure can be administered. Much less risk to all involved.” His eyes lit with possibility as he finished, “We might even be able to come up with a serum that includes the antidote within the spray, something that self-activates after a certain amount of time.”

  Thinking that sounded like a perfect solution, Alex turned to Fitzy, knowing he was the final voice to say whether any of it was possible. “What do you think, Fitzy? Can it be done?”

  “Oh, most assuredly, Annabelle!” he cried, seemingly overjoyed at the idea of a new project. “It may require some trial and error to design the most suitable device and come up with a working prototype, but it shouldn’t take much longer than a fortnight.”

  A lot could happen in a fortnight, but it was certainly better than nothing.

  After hashing out a few more ideas with her teachers, including contingency options for administering the cure in case it couldn’t be included as a time-delay antidote with the initial spray, Alex left them to it. She knew she could trust them to figure out the rest without her and to seek her out if they had any further questions.

  As she left the Tower building, she only hoped she would be far away from any place inside the ‘splatter range’ when the time came.

  When Alex entered the Library that night, she wasn’t sure what to expect for her first official training session with Mr. Mystery Man.

  Thankfully, the librarian was busy helping a student when she arrived in the foyer, so she was able to sneak past without attracting more unwarranted cleaning duties. As soon as she was free and clear down the second staircase, she willed a doorway open and fell through the familiar pitch-black nothingness until she arrived in the cavern.

  She was five minutes early, just to be safe.

  Mr. Mystery Man showed up right on time.

  “You’ve returned.”

  “Try not to sound so disappointed,” Alex said. Though, given his monotone, she struggled to pick up any kind of emotion from his voice, disappointment or otherwise.

  “Follow me,” he said, ignoring her statement. A door opened in front of him and he immediately stepped through.

  Alex followed right on his heels and found herself entering a nondescript room. Four walls, a ceiling and a floor, the only noteworthy thing about it was the colour: from top to bottom, it was near-blindingly white.

  “Sit.”

  Alex blinked at the man’s abrupt command. “Sorry?”

  “Sit,” he repeated. “Or you will fall. And if you fall, you will fail.”

  Forehead crinkling, Alex looked around the room again. The floor was solid; there wasn’t even any furniture she would be at risk of tripping over. Unless she was suddenly debilitated with a dizzy spell, she couldn’t imagine falling—or, indeed, where she would fall to.

  “Last chance, Alexandra.”

  Looking at the unidentifiable, cloaked figure in bafflement, Alex decided to humour him and sat cross-legged on the ground. The instant her backside hit the floor, everything about the room changed.

  All of a sudden, she was in the middle of the night’s sky—as in, so-close-she-could-almost-touch-the-stars night’s sky—and sitting on a metre-wide, circular platform hovering in the air.

  Adrenaline shot through Alex’s system like a bolt of lightning and she scrambled as far into the centre of her limited space as possible, curling tightly around herself.

  “What the hell?” she shrieked, heart pounding. Then she shrieked again when the cloaked man appeared before her, standing on nothing but air, his outline bathed in the moonlight.

  “Your task is to reach the doorway without falling,” he said.

  Alex’s voice was shrill when she asked, “What doorway?”

  As soon as the words left her, an open door materialised. It was close enough that she could see it led straight back into the underground cavern, but it was far enough away that there was no chance she could reach it without sprouting wings.

  “Fall, and you fail,” the man repeated.

  Alex knew—or at least, presumed—she was still in the Library, and having had a similar extreme height experience after falling from Darrius’s personal office above the clouds, she at least was able to calm herself with the knowledge that if she did fall, the Library wouldn’t allow her to get hurt.

  Or so she hoped.

  But…

  “What will it mean if I fail?”

  “Aside from the obvious?” the man said, gesturing a gloved hand to the empty space beneath them. “You will no longer be my student.”

  Alex closed her eyes tightly and when she reopened them, he was gone.

  “I’m guessing I can’t ‘phone a friend’ on this one,” she muttered, taking deep, steadying breaths to calm her rapid pulse.

  Soon enough, Alex realised that this had to be some kind of illusion. She’d never left the white room—she’d literally been sitting on the floor when her scenery had changed.

  Certain she was right and her task was a somewhat simple—if extreme—test of faith, Alex leaned forward and dropped her hand over the edge of her platform.

  Nothing. There was nothing there but empty space.

  Frowning,
Alex stretched her hand out further, knowing there had to be a solid surface somewhere that she could walk over to the door on. But no matter how far she reached, all she encountered was air.

  Once she got her shakes under control and focused her attention onto the problem itself, she trusted in the strength of her own body and, very carefully, hung over the side of the platform. Swinging her hands underneath it, she was confident she would find an explanation for what held it in the air—and the means for her own escape—but after dangling almost completely over the edge from four different sides of the circle, she found no evidence of anything supporting it. It was just… there. Floating in space.

  Easing back into the centre again, Alex rubbed her forehead.

  “Think, think, think,” she chanted to herself, staring at the open door.

  But no matter how hard she considered, nothing came to mind. She had nothing on her person that would help—other than her Shadow Ring, but she presumed that would be considered cheating and it might not even work inside the Library. A’enara was of no use in this situation, and she wasn’t wearing nearly enough of her wardrobe to fashion a rope of required length.

  She was, to her mind, entirely without the means to reach the door.

  After attempting a last-ditch effort to will a new doorway open in front of her which, unsurprisingly, yielded no results, Alex took a stab in the dark and called out, “Hey, Library, any chance you want to lend me a hand?”

  Silence. And then—

  “What kind of hand would you like, Alexandra?”

  Surprised but pleased that the Library had answered, she said, “How about a hint?” Or, you know, a bridge might be nice, too, she mentally added.

  “You have within you all that you need to complete your task,” the Library said.

  Alex shook her head. “I don’t. And I’m not just saying that. Unless I can figure out how to magically warp distance and space, there’s no way for me to reach the doorway.”

  A pause. “I did not say anything about a doorway.”

  Confused, Alex asked for clarification, but the Library didn’t respond. She had asked for advice and it had answered, but now she was more baffled than ever.