Death's Academy (12 page)

I scamper forward from tree to tree, peering one way and then another. I make my way toward the light, its strength gradually revealing more of my surroundings. The trees are even thicker and wilder here inside the wall, and it’s hard to see farther than a few feet. I stop behind a wide tree trunk, its side recently caved in. I get my first glimpse of where the light is coming from.
What the heck is that?

A six-foot-tall candy cane sticks out of the black earth. A bloodred light beams out if its stripes. It looks like something out of a Christmas nightmare. I take another step forward to get a better glimpse of it when I hear the faint breathing of something near my feet. I jump back and stifle a scream. It’s Roger.

I drop down to his side. His fur is matted down and hot. His eyes, half shut, look up at me pleadingly, and he whimpers.

“Roger, what happened?” I whisper.

Snap! Crunch! Crunch!
A terrible breaking and cracking of trees comes from the other side of the candy cane light. The noise gets louder until a hulking form breaks through the trees and into the small clearing around the candy cane. To my horror I see it—a ten-foot-tall, shimmering white unicorn.

Just like in the paintings I’ve seen, his shoulders are broad and strong. He is standing upright on his back haunches, his back legs shorter than his front legs. His front hooves have been split and gnarled into bony, stubbed claws. Whether that was done by him or they have genetically formed that way, I can’t tell. The shining horn sticking out of his skull is chipped and blunted like it has run through several enemies. A vicious scar runs from his ear to his snout. His right eye has been struck out and a hollow vacancy has replaced where it used to reside.

The candy cane’s crimson light bounces off his coat. It shimmers
and gleams, making him look like he’s on fire. He stops suddenly and lifts his snout up into the air. He sniffs one way and then another, his eye darting to and fro.

Roger and I make eye contact, and I put my finger up to my lips. I press my body to the ground, getting below some nearby vines. The unicorn sniffs a few more times but seems satisfied that no one is there. He moves over to the candy cane and wraps his claws around the top of it. He begins chanting something and closes his eye.

I sit there transfixed, watching this beast that isn’t supposed to exist, standing only twenty feet from me. As he chants, the bloodred light gets brighter and brighter. His chant continues for a few minutes until he abruptly stops. Everything has gone silent. But then, in the far-off distance, I can hear the sound of snapping branches. The noise is getting closer.

Another unicorn breaks through the trees and into the clearing. He is shorter than the first one. He bows.

“Raindrop, is this place clear?” the newly arrived unicorn whispers. His voice is strained and cracked like a screeching violin.

“It’s clear,” Raindrop says. “I wouldn’t have given the signal if it wasn’t.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“No. There was a raggedy mutt, but I took care of it,” Raindrop answers.

“Sundancer did well to charge you with such a dangerous assignment. So what is your conclusion? Do you recommend we move forward?”

Raindrop cleans some dirt from his claws and grimaces.

“They don’t expect anything. The Deaths and guardian angels are all leaving for their annual retreat in less than two days. My contact’s information is accurate, and the defenses will be minimal at best. Tell Sundancer it’s time to strike.”

A wicked smile cracks the new unicorn’s face, and he nods in approval

“Have you been able to find out where they’re keeping it?” he asks.

“It’s underground in the municipal building. They call it the Lock. If we send in the Shetlands first, it should be an easy—”

A crescendoing squeak pierces the air, like someone is slowly letting air from a balloon. Roger has farted again.

“Are you kidding me?” I whisper and jump to my feet. I scoop up Roger and run.

I don’t look back, but I can hear the unicorn’s massive body shattering through the trees behind me. I reach the gash in the wall and dive through the opening. I twist my body in the air to protect Roger, and my shoulder smashes into the vines and earth on the other side of the wall. Before I can get to my feet, I hear a thunderous crash, and the wall shudders behind me.

I’m back on my feet and making my way through the pitch black. I can hear the unicorn struggling to get through the opening. My left toe catches a tree limb, and I sprawl forward. Roger flies from my arms and tumbles across the ground. I feel my way to him,
pick him back up, and hobble forward, my left knee throbbing in pain.

Ahead of me is a distant pinprick of light coming from the streetlamp at the mouth of the park. I focus on that point and move toward it as fast as I can. The unicorn lands on my side of the wall. The force causes the earth to tremble. The light is growing and I can make out enough of the shadows to dodge the larger branches and trunks, but the unicorn is gaining on me.

“Help! Help!”

The unicorn is right on top of me, the sound of his grunts and snorts pounding in my ears. I feel a claw scrape against my shoulder just as I break through the last of the trees.

I sprint into the street and the welcoming light. I glance behind me, but the unicorn isn’t there. I don’t stop until I have crossed the wide street and am on the opposite sidewalk. My lungs and legs feel like they’re on fire. I can taste blood in my mouth. I stare back at the park’s tree line, but all seems peaceful and quiet. I jog forward to distance myself from the park when I look down and notice Roger.

Roger’s eyes are closed, and he is lying limply in my arms.

“Roger!” I shake him.

He doesn’t move. I lay him on the sidewalk. His entire coat is drenched in blood.

“Roger, come on, boy,” I say and stroke his ear. “You’re gonna be okay.” My throat starts to tighten and my eyes get hot. “Get up, Roger. Please get up.”

I reach out to touch his face when a distant
movement catches my eye. At the point where I had broken through the trees, a shadow with one gleaming eye stares back. I take a step back. A creeping hoof inches forward, and the unicorn’s form crosses into the light.

His hulking mass pulsates with every breath. He glares at me with his one good eye for several moments until he inches another hoof forward. I look around for help, but the street is barren. Only a few glowing “closed” signs and streetlamps peer back at me. The unicorn notices my movement and takes a couple of scurrying steps forward.

“Help!” I scream.

The unicorn crouches down, tensing himself like a spring. He bares his jagged teeth. The nearby traffic light turns from green to yellow and a thought pops into my head. The hoodie alarm!

I rush forward to the intersection. I skid to a stop beside the button that signals the crosswalk. The unicorn watches me with an amused look on his face. I jab the crosswalk button with my finger in the pattern that every hoodie was taught before he could walk. Dash, dash, hold, dash, hold, dash, dash, hold, hold.

Beams of light shoot from the crossing signals on each corner and the traffic lights flash red. The unicorn and I make eye contact. His smirk transforms into a scowl. A bodiless voice speaks.

“Death Emergency Network. Is this an emergency?”

“Yes!” I yell.

“Code, please.”

“Uh, the night and the raven,” I stammer.

A piercing siren slices through the night and begins to wail. I glance back at the unicorn, but he has disappeared into the trees. I take a deep breath and rest my forehead against the pole. My heart reverberates like a bass drum in my chest.

“Roger!” I spin around and run to where I had left him, but Roger is nowhere to be seen. “Roger!” I glance down one side of the street and then the other. “Roger!”

There is only a smudge of blood where I had laid him, but Roger is gone.

To my surprise, the Sickles didn’t arrive on the scene first. About a dozen reporters descended on the corner of Larkspur and 45th street before any Sickle. Supposedly, no one had used the hoodie emergency signal in over a decade. They flipped on their specialized gazers and pointed them at me. I was live on the Hoodie Network. As soon as I said the word “unicorn,” they went nuts. I guess nothing boosts ratings like a unicorn sighting.

They asked me all sorts of questions and snickered.
Then someone asked me what my name was. Of course, my situation went from bad to worse as soon as they realized who my dad was. I overheard one reporter say,

“Live on the scene with Midnight Smith, the son of the infamous Obsidian Smith of the
Queen Suzanne
debacle. Midnight says he’s seen unicorns! The truth? Or another attention grab from a family of fame seekers?”

Shortly thereafter, a herd of Sickles arrived. When I used the
U
word again, a Sickle slapped the invisible binds on me and stuck me where I am sitting now. I pled and screamed at them to look for Roger. No one would believe me. I caused such a scene that they put a muffler on me.

So that’s what’s happened so far. Pretty fantastic, huh?

I notice a familiar face among the Sickles. Demien, the one that took me in for the whole chip-beast fiasco. He is talking animatedly. He and I make eye contact. He shakes his head, excuses himself from the conversation, and strides over to me.

“You’ve been busy,” he says.

“Mhmm-Mhmm-Mhmm!” I grumble through the muffler.

“Can you stay calm?”

I nod.

“No screaming, yelling, or carrying on like a crazy kid?”

I nod again a bit more dejectedly. Demien snaps his fingers, and I can feel the muffler loosen and then evaporate.

“All right, kid. What really happened?” he asks.

I sigh. “You won’t believe me anyway.”

He shakes his head a couple of times and runs his hand through his hair.

“Night, let’s talk about this for a moment. First, no one has seen a unicorn in over fifty years. In fact, most people believe they are extinct. Second, the last time one was ‘supposedly seen,’ it was a thousand miles north. And like I said before, it was fifty years ago.”

“That’s not true. That lady in the cell, Pandora, saw a whole bunch not too long ago,” I argue.

His eyebrows arch, and upon further reflection, I would have to agree that using Pandora as a witness for my defense might not be the best strategy.

“I’m telling the truth,” I plead.

“Night, we searched the park and found nothing. No mythical unicorns, no dog, no candy cane—nothing.”

I kick the coach’s door and it swings open and rebounds back onto my leg.
Crunch!

“Ouch!” I exclaim.

Demien shakes his head and pulls the door off my shin. “You have had quite the last few days, haven’t you? I saw the game earlier.”

I thought I couldn’t feel any worse, but I was wrong.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mumble.

Demien eyes me up and down and folds his arms.

“You know, you’ve created quite the fiasco,” he continues. “The Hoodie Network broadcast your unicorn rant on every station. We had mass hysteria. The Regent himself had to do a special broadcast to calm everyone down. He said that you were not
mentally stable and there was nothing to worry about.”

“That’s great,” I spit out. “Add it to my list of titles: Obsidian’s son, chipmunk killer, skull ball championship loser, and now crazy loon. When you think about it, loon isn’t the worst on the list, is it?”

Demien actually smiles and shakes his head again.

“Night, I don’t think you’re crazy. I just think you’re stressed out,” he says and puts a hand on my shoulder. “You sure picked the worst time to cause a scene. Everyone is leaving for the Reapless tomorrow.”

“I swear I’m telling the truth. The unicorns know all the hoodies and halos are leaving. That’s why they’ve come. They’re trying to get something in the municipal building. You know, the Lock,” I say.