The Ruens of Fairstone (Aeon of Light Book 2) (3 page)

“Mr. Wenerly,” Professor Ames says.

Pard’s head snaps up and looks at the teacher, not expecting to hear his name so soon. “Yes, professor?”

“Come here.”

Pard pops out of his chair, hugs his books, and hurries to the front of the lecture hall.

The professor ignores Pard for a few seconds, still passing his finger over an essay. He shakes his head and scribbles,
to wordy, be more concise, and the Battle of Als was five hundred years after the Nestvine movement, C-
. He slides off his spectacles and rubs his weary, bloodshot eyes as he leans back in his chair. “Some of these kids,” He mumbles, “idiots.” Then he sighs. He clears his throat and sits up. “So, Pard Wenerly.”

“Yes, professor?”

“What am I going to do with you?”

Pard gulps, hoping the professor does nothing with him. Though Pard knows that out of most of the teachers here at Fairstone Preparatory School for Boys, him and Professor Videl are the only two that stand up for him against Headmaster Yitch, or as Pard likes to think of him, Lord Snitch, Lord Witch, or Lord Bitch.

“You know—” Professor Ames leans forward in his chair, and Pard snaps out of his thoughts and looks the professor in his kind eyes. “I don’t understand you sometimes, Pard, why you bring all this trouble upon yourself. How can the best student in this school always be tardy, get into trouble, and bumble around the grounds as if he doesn’t want to be here?”

Pard steps forward in protest. “But I do—”

Professor Ames raises his finger cutting Pard off. He glances away from Pard and to a portrait of a scholarly black-bearded man at the end of the line of many portraits lining the far wall. “You know it’s been six years since I took over this post from your father. I was a student of his, and he was my mentor, and a good friend.”

“Yes, sir, I know.”

The professor purses his lips as he stares at Pard for a few seconds without saying a word. “Go and don’t be late anymore this term.”

“Thank you, professor.” Pard spins away and stumbles up the aisle as fast as he can without dropping any of his books, making straight for the back door before the professor can change his mind. Pard balances his books on his hip and swings open the door with a hard pull. One lumbering step through the threshold he sways to a stop in front of a tall, lanky bird-like man with a beak-like nose, white bushy sideburns, and wearing a fine-tailored red robe with gold embroidering. “Headmaster,” Pard says with a cough and scratchy voice.

“Mr. Wenerly, detention again I see,” the headmaster says in a snobbish tone as he looks down on Pard frozen in the middle of the doorway, blocking his entry.

“Yes, headmaster,” is the only thing Pard can spit out in his nervous state.
 

Smelling fear, the headmaster’s eyes narrow like a snake. “A few more detentions and that may be grounds for your expulsion. What do you have to say for yourself, Wenerly?”

Again Pard can only muster, “Yes, headmaster.”

Yitch scowls. “You’re in my way, Wenerly.”

“Yes, headmaster,” Pard says, though he doesn’t move.

“That means get out of my way, or do you want another detention for insubordination?”

“
Detention
?” Pard immediately scoots by the headmaster, brushing his shoulder on Yitch’s red velvet robe. “Good night to you, Headmaster Yitch.”

Yitch sneers and shivers, backing away from Pard as if he has the plague.

Pard continues forward through the west wing and back toward the courtyard, moving farther away from Yitch but also away from the nearest set of stairs that lead up to his room on the fourth floor. He resists the urge to look back, figuring out long ago that it’s best for himself and his eyes to keep well clear of Lord Yitch, though for the life of him he can’t understand what he ever did to cause such animosity toward him, and all Pard can do is hover in the shadows, do his best at his studies, and not get into any trouble. Though the getting in trouble part is usually not his fault, but for some reason he’s the one that always gets caught and receives the blame. And speaking of trouble.

“Finally out of detention, low-borne,” Blaine says, frowning and pushing off the wall and blocking Pard’s path.

Shoot, not again.
Pard lowers his head then looks back up, staring Blaine in his cold black eyes, trying not to show any sign of fear. Though his heart is pounding out of his chest and if it wasn’t for the giant mound of books in his arms, it would be visible how much his arms are shaking
.

Sully giggles in annoying spurts and slides out from the shadows.

“What’s with you guys?” Pard says. “Why don’t you leave me alone? Don’t you have something better to do then to pick on me?”

“Right now?” Sully says with a frown and a shake of his head. “No, no not really.”
 

Pard rolls his eyes and steps forward. “Great.” He glances at the stairs to the fourth floor on the left and makes for them.

Nox steps out from the shadows like a creature summoned from the deep recesses of hell and bumps into Pard’s shoulder, sending Pard tumbling to the side and crashing into the double oak doors which lead outside to the courtyard.

“Come on,” Pard says. “What did I ever do to you guys?”

“You’re here at this school, and that’s good enough,” Blaine says.

Pard sneers, unable to hold his tongue. “And what makes you so special? Ten years ago before coal was discovered in some gutter in the Badlands, you and your family were just a bunch of low-class nobodies, and now you act as if you’re a high-class lord or something. You better than me?
Humph
. You can crawl out of the gutter—” Pard leans forward and snarls at Blaine, “but you’re still trash from the gutter, and I and everyone here knows it, even if Yitch and the board takes your daddy’s mountain of gold to look the other way.”

Blaine’s tan face shifts bright red and his eyes flare with rage. “How dare you.” He raises his fists and steps toward Pard.

Pard’s eyes widen, and he backs away until his back presses flat against the oak door.

“I’m going to rearrange your face for that.”

Sully giggles.

Nox chuckles.

Meow,
a fat tabby cat strokes its side against Nox’s leg.
 

Surprised by the sensation, Nox flinches and lets out a high-pitched squeal like a baby pig. He kicks the cat away with the tip of his boot, and the cat hisses back at him. “Get away from me, you furry vermin.”

“Hey, that’s Yitch’s cat, Nero,” Sully says, “don’t hurt him.”

“Yeah,” Pard adds, “what the heck’s your problem? You didn’t have to kick him.”

“Shut up, Pardo, and mind your own business. I don’t care whose cat it is, if it’s touching me, it’s getting my boot in its face.”

“But what about our deal with the headmaster?” Sully says.

Blaine spins around and points at both of them. “
Both of you
, forget the stupid cat, we have bigger vermin to deal with.” And he turns back and eyes Pard with hate.

Pard sucks in a breath and his eyes dart from Blaine to Sully to Nox and back to Blaine. He squirms in place with nowhere to run.

“So what was it you called me? Trash from the gutter?”
 

Pard raises his books to protect his chest, and Blaine swipes straight down with the flat of his hand, swatting the books out of Pard’s grasp. His textbooks tumble to the ground and his papers slide onto the floor.

Sully hiccups and giggles as he kicks a few of the papers and then stomps on them, grinding them into the wood.

Nox crosses his muscular arms and his biceps pulsate. He licks his lips in anticipation, getting ready for his turn with Pard.

Blaine eyes the worn leather-bound book not like the other textbooks. “
What’s this
?” He bends over and picks up
The Third Order of The Rue
.

“Don’t!” Pard says, reaching out for his book.

Blaine angles his body to block Pard and then swipes Pard’s hand away. “So, what do we have here?”

“What is it?” Sully says in a high-pitched voice, which fits his stature, though not his handsome face.

“It’s a book, idiot.”

“Come on now, I know it’s a book. But what kind of book? It doesn’t look like any book I’ve ever seen.”

“This here is a book of the Rue. My father used to deal in these artifacts on the black market.” Pleased, Blaine nods as he ogles the ancient leather. “Nice score here, Wenerly.”

“A book of the what?” Nox says.

Blaine eyes Nox and talks in a condescending tone as if he’s speaking to his lesser. “Book of the Rue, it’s really rare, and really expensive.”

Pard reaches out for the book again. “Come on, Blaine, I take back what I said earlier, just give it back.”

“Lot’s of rare books like that in the library,” Nox says, pointing at the abraded leather spine. “I don’t see why this one is so special.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “Not like this one, Nox.” He glares at Pard. “And how would the likes of you get a Rue book?”

“It was my mother’s. She used to do research on the subject.”

“Oh, the poor mommy that got herself killed and left you alone at Fairstone?” Nox says, circling his head in a mocking manner.

“Well, I guess she doesn’t need it for research anymore,” Blaine says. “Good thing for us.” He sneers at Pard. “Bad thing for you.”

Meow.
Yitch’s cat rubs against Blaine’s leg, and Blaine’s brow arches, and he nudges the cat away.
“
What’s with this cat
?
I’d think it’d get a hint.”
 

The cat comes back again and rubs up against Blaine’s leg.

“I got this,” Nox says, and he lumbers to the cat and sweeps it off the ground with his mitt-like hand.
 

The cat squirms and growls and hisses.

Pard leans forward as they’re distracted by Nero. He’s almost within arms reach of the book.

Blaine quickly turns around and sees Pard’s hand hovering in front of him, and he backs away. “Pretty sneaky there, Wenerly, bet you wish you would’ve had a few more seconds and then you might’ve been able to snag mommy’s book.” Teasing him, he holds the Rue book in front of Pard and sways it back and forth.

The cat hisses, and Nox grunts with a stream of spittle toward Nero’s face. “I say we go up to the fourth floor and toss kitty and the book out the window at the same time and see which one hits the ground first.”

Blaine puckers his lips and nods, taking the suggestion seriously. “Might be fun, unfortunately launching the cat could be problematic for our arrangement, and this book is far to valuable to destroy. So after we makeover Pardo’s face, I’ll sell the book in town. Bet I can get twenty or even thirty gold for it at Franch’s Books in Greysin.”

“No shit?” Sully says.

“No shit,” Blaine says.

“Can we get a cut of that?”

“You wouldn’t!” Pard says, forgetting his fear and standing up straight. “That’s my book, it’s been in my family for generations. You can’t steal it from me and sell it.”

“The heck we can’t, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“So how about a cut?” Sully says.

Blaine snorts.

The cat squirms in Nox’s arms and it digs its claws into his skin. “What should we do with the cat?”

Blaine throws back his head in disbelief and stares at the ceiling. He sighs. “Just put it down and walk away, idiot. I swear, sometimes you and your brother are as dumb as bricks.”

“So no launch from the fourth floor?” Nox says disappointed as the cat continues to dig its claws deeper into his skin which doesn’t seem to affect him, even though thin streaks of blood roll down his thick forearms.

Blaine rolls his eyes. “No launch, Nox, now put the cat down, give Wenerly a black eye, and let’s get the hell out of here.”

Nox sneers.

Blaine smiles as he eyes the book, and he skulks away backward.

“But my book,” Pard says.

“Wrong—it’s my book.”

Anger swells deep inside of Pard, and he can’t control his thoughts or emotions. That book of the Rue is one of the last items he has of his mother. He clinches his fist and grits his teeth. Energy surges through his veins and his arms and fingers tingle. A faint aqua-blue light flashes over Pard’s pupils.

Blaine winks at Pard. “Thanks for the score, Wenerly. I’m sure your mother would be proud to know it’s in a real man’s hands now.” He chuckles and nods toward Sully. “You can have a ten percent cut.”

Sully grins. “Nice, thanks, boss.”

“No!” Pard says as his arms shoot forward and blinding blue spurts of electricity spit out of his fingertips.

“What the crap is that?” Sully says as his eyes widen in disbelief.

Nox steps away, still gripping Nero tight.

The cat hisses and bats Nox’s face with its claws, leaving three scratches under his eye.

Nox curses and extends the cat away from his body as blood trickles down his cheek.

The cat squirms and hisses again.

Blaine turns around and his smug face fades into something between fear and anger as he watches the blue electricity spitting and dripping out of Pard’s fingers. His arm holding the book slowly lowers to his side as his mouth drops. The blue droplets of light ping off the shiny wooden floor, pool, and then disappear.
 

“That’s my book!” Pard says, and an arc of blue light webs around his entire body.

“O-okay, P-Pard,” Blaine says, bending over to set the book on the floor. “No hard feelings, let’s forget this ever happened, and I didn’t really mean what I said about your mother, all-all right?”

“But thirty gold,” Sully says, tilting his head to the side, oblivious.

Blaine sternly points at Sully. “Shut up!”

“
But thirty gold
!”

Pard’s body flinches at the sound of Sully’s annoying voice, and the arc of light shoots out of his chest and strikes Nero still in Nox’s arms.
 

“
Ah
!” Nox says as he let’s go of the feline and Nero hovers in midair, suspended unnaturally in front of him, attached to the bright-blue light fluttering out and away from Pard’s chest.

“Hey, Wenerly,” Blaine says to Pard with a quiver in his voice and outstretched, shaky arms, “no hard feelings, just relax.” Hunched over, Blaine backs away from the book on the floor. “I didn’t mean anything by it and your mother.”