The Hunted (24 page)

There were only four large mats in total, so it didn’t take me long to fold them in half and then drag each of them back to the corner of the stone room. I piled them out of the way, pulled my training robe off and then tossed it over my backpack and headed to the grand stands to sit and watch.

The training room we were all in was located down one of the passages that forked off from the main junction. The walls were constructed of concrete here also, but had been covered in heavy duty stone that ran over every other surface, including the ceiling and floor. The room was completely windowless of course as it was underground, but an extremely large timber chandelier hung suspended from the centre of the ceiling, spilling light in all directions. On the walls various pieces of armour and weaponry hung, ranging from medieval swords to daggers and hand guns.

I personally preferred to stick with my knife. I liked how it felt in my hand and the comfort it gave me. That didn’t mean that I would not learn how to use each and every one of the other weapons on that wall—it just wasn’t a priority. And particularly not when in less than a year and a half I was going to have killer instincts, sharp teeth, and razor sharp claws, far more deadly than things that go
bang-bang.

‘Shall we begin?’ Peter said to Lucas, as I quickly darted out of the way and settled onto the grandstand, up high and away from Sarah. She seemed determined that we would be sitting together today, because she came up and sat down next to me.

I nodded a polite greeting and then turned to watch the proceedings, ignoring her presence as best as I could. It was difficult given that her perfume was pungent and smelt strangely like a cross between freshly cut roses and cat piss.

‘Now the Light of Mellar, as well you know Lucas, is not about using spell words. To master this spell you need to be able to create an image in your mind that reflects your desired intentions.’

Susan took a seat on the lower grandstand to watch, while Malcolm quickly exited the room to go and help Karina with her training.

‘George, would you mind?’ Peter said, pointing at him.

George shook his head and stepped forward.

He held his hand out in front of him, silently studying his palm. A small glowing light began to appear, steadily growing bigger and burning brighter. It spun around, like a ball of white gas, across his fingertips, about the size of a basketball. He pulled his arm back and threw it across the room and at the wall, shrouding its entire length in darkness, regardless of the lighting from above.

‘Wonderful. Thank you, George.’

George nodded and took a step backwards. It was better for Peter to take all of Lucas’s field training classes. He was a lot more patient than George—he had a little problem with keeping his opinions to himself and avoiding anger management issues when he was in charge of training or lecturing.

‘Now, Lucas,’ Peter said patiently, ‘would you like to have a go?’

Lucas nodded, although he looked nervous. He’d attempted this spell only once in the past, roughly just over a year ago.

It hadn’t ended well.

George had chucked a mini tantrum about lack of focus and control, and consequently the lesson had ended with a rather shaken and apprehensive Lucas. It was hilarious for spectators such as me, but that little outburst from daddy dearest was exactly the reason that Peter now ran training classes with Lucas and me.

Lucas took a step forward, tucking a lock of his long blonde hair behind his ear, and then held his palm out in front of him in readiness. He appeared to be muttering something under his breath, but I couldn’t hear what.

He focused on his hand, his blue eyes narrowing in on his palm, waiting like the rest of us for something to appear.

After about a minute of staring at empty space, he sighed in frustration and lowered his hand.

George grunted.

Susan shot him a look.

‘Lucas, don’t be discouraged,’ Peter said sternly. ‘Just concentrate and try again. Don’t be distracted by the people around you.’ Peter’s scarred eye was directed specifically at George.

Hilarious.

‘I’m trying,’ Lucas muttered.

‘Just try a little harder. Pretend the room is empty and then focus on the Light of Mellar appearing in your hand.’

‘Okay.’

He raised his palm again, bringing all his energies to bear, concentrating hard. For a few moments nothing happened, and then, all of a sudden, white light began to flicker just above his upturned palm.

Susan and George both leaned forward in their seats, eagerness in their eyes.

Lucas focused in on it intently and the ball of light grew larger and larger, floating higher and higher, until it finally burned out.

George grunted again in earnest.

Susan shot him another look.

Double hilarious.

‘Damn,’ Lucas said, as he lowered his arm back down to his side.

‘No, no, Lucas, you are doing absolutely fine. This time when you try to summon the energies, try focusing on the direction you want the spell to go in. Imagine, for instance, that the light is growing and expanding in your hand, and then throw it over at that wall over there,’ Peter said, pointing behind him. ‘Imagine, instead of it being ethereal, that it’s a real object that you can touch and manipulate.’

‘Okay, I’ll try.’

He raised his palm again and continued the stare-a-thon at his hand. The small light flickered more quickly this time, growing exponentially until it was the size of a basketball, the same as George had created earlier. It hovered above his hand for a couple of seconds before he quickly turned and hurled the light at the wall with great force. It impacted without sound, shedding that section of the wall in total darkness, just as George had done.

‘Excellent!’ Peter cheered as he stepped forward and patted Lucas on the back. ‘Try it again.’

He did. And then again and again. Lucas managed to conjure the spell successfully at least another ten times, the pride on our parents’ faces clear for all to see.

‘Now I know this might worry you, but I think we’ve practised enough now. I want you to now try this out on me. When the ball of light gets to full size, I want you to throw it at me. I will not resist.’

‘But what happens if I hurt you?’ Lucas asked worriedly.

‘It shall not hurt me. You are ready.’

Lucas seemed hesitant, but he did as he was asked. The light began to grow on his hand again. I watched it morph and warp as it had done before, until, in one smooth motion, he turned and flicked it towards Peter, letting the ball hit him full in the face.

Peter staggered back slightly and then smiled. ‘You did it, Lucas. I can’t see a thing!’

‘How long does it last for?’

‘Only for around five minutes or so—then my vision will return. This spell has its advantages. It will allow you to disarm your opponent and give you time to either run or take action. I would hope that, of course, should the time come for you to face the Vânâtors on your own that you would take action.’

‘I will,’ Lucas said almost instantly, and judging by the conviction in his voice he truly meant what he said. I had to admire him for that.

There was a disgruntled coughing sound coming from Susan and we all looked at her.

Peter shrugged. ‘Well, that’s if your mum
ever
lets you face them alone.’

I stifled a laugh.

Sounds familiar.

‘Okay, I think my vision is slowly starting to come back. Do you think you have this mastered for now?’ Peter asked.

‘I think so.’

‘Well, we can practice it some more tomorrow if you like. I would quite like to remain non-sightless for the time being.’ He chuckled at his own joke and then fell silent when he realised no one else was laughing.

He coughed and continued. ‘Okay, now pay attention to what I’m about to show you next. This spell is called Hevannatara. It will make your opponent turn into a living statue and is quite useful when used in conjunction with the Light of Mellar. You have studied this spell in theory, but I want you to actually practice how to control its physical power.’

Peter stood still for a quick second before thrashing his hands out in front of himself and uttering ‘
Hevannatara
’. A blue flash shot from his hand and flew fast as lightning across the room. The blue bolt crashed loudly into the stone wall.

Lucas looked on, eager with anticipation, waiting for Peter to do the trick again.

‘He’s very good, isn’t he?’ Sarah said to me. I’d almost forgotten she was there.

I nodded, not particularly interested in engaging in conversation with her. It usually ended in her calling me something nasty and then me having to bite my tongue.

‘Pity.’

I’ll buy it.

‘What’s a pity?’

‘That you’ll never be able to conjure magic, like him.’

I turned to look at her. ‘I know that, but it doesn’t matter. I have my own talents.’

‘Yes, I expect that you probably do given that you’re a
half-breed
.’

‘Sorry? Did you say half-breed? I’m going to be a Vampire—that’s
one
breed, not multiple.’

‘If you say so, dear.’

I stared at her. ‘Explain what you mean?’

She patted my shoulder and I shrugged her away. ‘Pay attention, Peter is about to demonstrate something you’ll never have.’

I resisted the urge to knock her backwards off the grandstand. Instead, I watched the arena as Peter walked to a small cage next to the door where we came in. I hadn’t noticed it earlier. Perhaps one of the other adults had brought it in with them. Inside, I could see that it contained a couple of pigeons.

He pulled one of them out and threw it up into the air. The bird took immediate evasive action as it fluttered around the room in a panic, looking for a way out.

Peter held his hand up in front of him, tracking the bird around as it flew. ‘
Hevennatara,
’ he yelled and another blue bolt of lightning shot from his fingertips, hitting the bird perfectly in the breast. It froze in mid-flap and fell to the ground, landing with a loud
thud
.

Ouch, that’s gotta hurt.

Lucas ran over to the bird and picked it up, tapping on its body with his fingers.

‘Is it dead?’

‘No. It’s just immobilised for a short while. Put it back into the cage before it re-animates.’

Lucas obeyed, placing the pigeon carefully back into the cage, mildly distressing the other remaining birds in the process.

Peter sat down on the grandstand and gestured that Lucas should try this for himself.

His attempts were futile at first, as he repeatedly uttered the word and flicked his hands out in front of him. Nothing more than a small blue spark emanating from his fingers.

‘Okay, Lucas, you’re on the right track. The magic is already there—you just have to imagine the outcome as you did before. When you throw your hands out in front of you, imagine that you are gathering all the strength from inside yourself and focusing it in your hands. Then expel it from yourself with full force. The whole time you must picture the outcome, your opponent turning to stone in your mind. Of course, they do not actually turn to stone, or we would not be able to kill them. But they are rooted where they stand, unable to move for at least five minutes, just like the pigeon before. Now, it’s not an exact science when it comes to the length of time. Age, weight, health, and power play definitive roles in the effectiveness of the spell. But generally a few minutes is enough time for you to kill.’