The Gauntlet Read online

  The Gauntlet

  Imdalind Academy: Book One

  Rebecca Ethington

  Imdalind Press

  Text Copyright ©2019 by Rebecca Ethington

  The Imdalind Series, characters, names, and related indicia are trademarks and © of Rebecca Ethington.

  The Imdalind Series Publishing rights © Rebecca Ethington

  All Rights Reserved.

  Published by Market Street Books LLC

  No Part of this publication may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For Information regarding permission, write to:

  Rebecca Ethington – permissions@ Rebecca Ethington.com

  Copyediting by RainEditing

  Production Management by Market Street Books

  Cover Design by Duck and Bicycle Productions

  Cover Photography by Tattered Butterfly

  Cover Model: Charlee Wagner

  Ebook ISBN - 978-1-949725-29-2

  Print ISBN - 978-1-949725-32-2

  Printed in USA

  This Edition, July 2019

  THE WORLD OF IMDALIND

  Joclyn’s Story, Where it all began

  BOOK ONE: Kiss of Fire

  BOOK TWO: Eyes of Ember

  BOOK THREE: Scorched Treachery

  BOOK FOUR: Soul of Flame

  BOOK FIVE: Burnt Devotion

  BOOK SIX: Brand of Betrayal

  BOOK SEVEN: Dawn of Ash

  BOOK EIGHT: Crown of Cinders

  BOOK NINE: Ilyan

  Ryland’s Story, the King of Imdalind

  BOOK ONE: Spark of Vengeance

  BOOK TWO: Flare of Villainy

  BOOK THREE: TBA

  BOOK FOUR: TBA

  BOOK FIVE: TBA

  Rowan’s Story, Imdalind Academy

  BOOK ONE: The Gauntlet

  BOOK TWO: Rogue Royalty

  BOOK THREE: Broken Renegade

  BOOK FOUR: Reluctant Seer

  BOOK FIVE: TBA

  Contents

  1. Gemma

  2. Rowan

  3. Gemma

  4. Sia

  5. Gemma

  6. Rowan

  7. Gemma

  8. Rowan

  9. Sia

  10. Gemma

  11. Rowan

  12. Sia

  13. Rowan

  14. Gemma

  15. Rowan

  16. Gemma

  17. Adrian

  Special Thanks From The Author

  Exclusive Imdalind academy Book Two Preview

  Also by Rebecca Ethington

  Join Team Rebecca!

  About the Author

  For My Kids

  Never Give Up

  1

  Gemma

  Bombs weren't usually made up of fiery green and lavender blasts. Unless they were made of magic.

  Magical blasts of brilliant colors that broke through the walls of banks, jewelry stores, and the occasional clothing store. Whatever we wanted. Today it was a supermarket, one of the fancy ones that the Chosen claimed had healthier food. Healthy, expensive food that they charged twice as much for, while my people, the Undermortals that lived underground, starved.

  We may be nothing more than the dirty Drains that they screamed were destroying their perfect world, but I didn’t see any reason why that meant we couldn't have the better, more expensive food, too.

  Or why we couldn’t take it all away from the Chosen and their “Golden” spawn.

  It was just there, inside the darkened store, tucked into a complex that had closed for the night. Waiting for us.

  I could nearly taste the fresh veg and liquid milk. Cream even. They were all luxuries that would have come from an animal and not from some chemical plant like the rations they would throw at us every week. I had every intention of soaking a bun in the deliciously real, frothy goodness when we got back to the tunnels.

  “Ready babe?” Adrian whispered, pressing his chest against my back as his lips tugged at the line of piercings that encircled my ear. His fingers tickled around the black lines of the tattoo that danced around my hip, the heavy ink exposed thanks to a rip in my shirt from the bank heist of last week.

  Adrian was forever distracting. It would be so easy to push him back down into the sewer, leave him and his wandering fingers in the dark while I had all the fun. But I needed him, so I would have to deal with the awkward tickling.

  Touch was never my favorite, but at least the impending implosion made it more palatable. I could put up with him as long as I got to blow something up.

  “Let’s make their world burn.” A regrettable dimple popped in my smirk as ivy green flame dripped from my fingers, heavy lines of magic splattering over the printed asphalt and eating into it. Boiling it.

  Lifting my hand, the magic shot from my palm, fire breaking through the night in a smear of paint against the stars. The blast ripped the doors from the building, breaking the brick and turning it into a shower of rubble the rained over us, filling the last of the night with dust and smoke.

  I didn’t need the debris to clear in order to know the explosion had worked.

  “Go!” I hollered to the clutch of a makeshift army behind me, not like they needed to be told. My people were already running into the building, flashlights blazing, canvas bags opened in preparation.

  Eddy, one of the few people I actually trusted, stood by the front door, helping everyone in before he too disappeared through the gnarled fissure of glass and stone. A few of the children who had tagged along were already spray painting our mantra on the debris strewn ground. It was the same scene no matter what we hit, what we stole. Magic, mayhem, and a message. I wasn’t even focusing on them anymore. I was already stumbling back into Adrian's waiting arms. The thick corded muscles of his glistening ebony arms wrapped around me, giving me enough support that I wouldn’t collapse.

  I may have magic, but it was poisoned and illegal and every time I used it, I might as well have been hit by the old train we kept in the tunnels. The old thing was only used as our emergency escape for when the Chosen and their Tarn armies, the CCC, raided the tunnels to exterminate us. Now, I could have sworn the blasted thing was sitting on my chest.

  Being the only magic-infected Undermortal may have benefits, destruction and fresh milk above all, but this was not one. Every muscle and bone twisted as though it was going to break, my legs shaking as they attempted to collapse underneath me. Goddamnit. I was better than this, stronger than this. I sure as hell wasn’t going to let this pathetic weakness show.

  "You okay, Gem?" Adrian tried to hold me closer before he instantly set me back on my feet. He must have heard my teeth grind together, the first sign of the coming bitch-pocalypse.

  "Ya." He knew me well enough not to fight me.

  Pushing myself away from him, I tried to ignore the ache that was still pulsing through my knees and threatening to pull me to the ground.

  I was almost done. One more blast. It would be worth it.

  My bad-ass army was now running from the building, laden with bags of food and supplies that they dropped into the sewer drain before vanishing themselves, plunging into the dark that we called home.

  "Hurry!" I yelled to the few stragglers in the store, forcing my magic to my fingertips again. The tainted power coursed through my veins, draining what little energy I had left. Adrian's hand was already against my back, helping me to stand, ready for my next collapse. I should probably be more careful with how much power I used, but I didn't care. I wanted them to know we were here.

  I wanted them to be afraid.

  I wanted them to know what was coming for them.


  The bigger the blasts, the brighter the colors. The more they knew.

  "I'm the last, Gemma," Eddy yelled as he passed me, his arms absolutely full of flour and yeast. He never got the fluffy white bagged loaves that everyone else did, nor had he wasted too much space on sugary jams that needed refrigeration. Wheat and yeast. Cut and dry. Things we could use for months. Even at eighteen, Eddy was the wisest among us. It was probably why I relied on him so much. We may be nothing more than a few teenage revolutionaries, but between my magic and his logic we were golden. Add in Adrian’s brute strength and no one could topple us. I had a few months on the two of them, but even without my magic neither of them would last long if they started treating me like some weak baby.

  I could explode more than banks and supermarkets after all.

  “We are going to eat for a month after this!” Eddy smiled, although he didn’t disappear down the dark sewer drain with everyone else; he turned, eyes smiling as he waited for what was about to happen.

  "Kill it, babe," Adrian whispered in my ear, his hands weaving around my sides, gripping my hips and pressing me against him, his heart was an eager hum against my spine.

  “Burn little Chosen’s, everything will burn,” I snarled, lifting my hand and letting the magic that was pooling through my veins erupt in a blast of color, of light, of destruction. Green and gold magic slammed into the front of the store, sending stone, glass, and bits of metal around us as my power ripped through it, destroying the rest of the pretentious building.

  The inky black sky was swallowed with an explosion of magic as bright as the most distorted dawn.

  Our dawn.

  Our future.

  “On the second day, I destroyed the night.” Screw the Eternals that created this mess. That controlled magic. That blessed and praised the damn Chosen that murdered us.

  They weren’t the only ones in the world, I would remind them of that.

  "Holy hell, Gemma. Don't show off or anything," Eddy snickered as he turned to slip down the drain, Adrian already half-carrying me toward the open manhole. I pushed him away with the force he deserved for trying to coddle me. I could handle a little bit of pain and I could sure as hell walk on my own.

  Each stumbling step at a time.

  Crackling flames and groaning metal blended with the whine of approaching sirens, the sounds becoming the penultimate theme song for our escape. They sang right along with the mantra we left behind, the red spray paint as much of a promise as it was a warning.

  All The Glitters Were Never Gold.

  The still wet letters glimmered in the burning dawn, dancing in the night as the lavender of the flames faded, replaced by the spiraling red and blue of their damn cars. The Chosen Council for Community. The CCC.

  Armed with weapons and magic alike, they were supposed to protect all of the citizens. Magic. Non-Magic. Everyone was supposed to be safe. They weren’t supposed to discriminate.

  They did.

  What I wouldn’t give to get a chance to wring those bastards for all they had done to us. To show them what they were really facing.

  I was weak, I was tired, but it would still be worth it. Perhaps I had enough left...

  “Not now, babe.” I didn’t even get a chance to step toward them before Adrian grabbed me, pulling me around and dropping me down the hole to Eddy's waiting arms.

  “Nice, Gem,” Eddy said as he caught me, his usual snicker echoing over the damp stone. “You’re my favorite bad-ass.”

  “I’m the only bad-ass, Ed.” I gave him a wink, and he chuckled, double checking I could stand before setting me into the shallow pools of water that covered the ground.

  Eddy’s laugh turned into a cackle as Adrian dropped beside us with a grunt and a splash. Sirens and lights were right on top of us now.

  "Have enough left?" Red and blue refracted against Adrian’s dark features, his eyes narrowed in question in the flashing lights.

  “What a ridiculous question.” It was also the only way I could get away with not answering him. If I had, the answer would have been a resounding no.

  I had used too much magic, and I knew I was going to pay for it. But it was worth it. It always was.

  Focusing on the manhole cover, my teeth clamped and ground together as my magic slipped away, pulling it back into place and welding the metal shut. Power dripped from my fingers, everything aching and burning as trickles of blood flowed from my nose.

  "Damn it. That's it. Let’s get back to Last Pyre. I want to go home," I whispered, letting myself collapse into Adrian, his arms lifting me as he whisked me through the dark. Back to the sewers and the forgotten subway tunnels that was home to us. The Undermortals.

  Or as everyone else called us, Drains.

  Drains because of where we lived, because of what we were. Because King Ilyan and his bastard family, the Eternals, had left us to rot.

  Because we lacked magic. Because we were not their precious Chosen. The only ones allowed to have magic, to have power, to have strength.

  Well, not anymore. It may have been nothing more than a twist of fate, but I had broken that. I had been bitten by the Vilỳ, the filthy things that awaken the magic in a mortal. One bite, and I had been blessed with the power that was bringing me closer to making the King pay for what he had done.

  For all the people he killed.

  I would avenge my parents first.

  2

  Rowan

  He was knocking again.

  I knew it was him because there was a special way he had with rapping his knuckles that he had picked up from our Uncle Ryland. Ryland was cool, and when I heard his knock there wasn't a drop of dread associated with it. My oldest brother Talon was a pain in my ass.

  "Go away," I yelled toward the door, rolling over and tucking myself further into my bed and all the blankets and pillows that were cluttered over it.

  I could burrow all I want, but all it was doing was prolonging the inevitable. You can't keep your irritant of a big brother, and heir to the throne, away for long. Especially when there was magic involved. And Talon had power in spades. That mixed with ego, muscles, and blue eyes that made all the girls swoon. He even looked like Uncle Ryland with his wavy dark hair.

  It was no wonder he was quickly becoming the poster boy for our family, ‘The Eternals’.

  Ridiculously stupid nickname that I was still refusing to adopt.

  I was tucked somewhere in the middle of a hugely talented, successful, and powerful family. The holders of 'the last pure magic on earth', and therefore eternal life. Hence the name. As the third son, I was always lost in Talon's shadow. Which would be a great spot for me to hang out, if the guy would leave me alone.

  And he was knocking again. You would think he would have more patience for a guy nearing his sixtieth birthday. But I guess when you always get what you want you don't need to be patient for anything.

  "Go away, Talon," I waved my hand through the air and switched the emergency lock closed, fusing the metal latch shut with a tiny bit of heat. Not like it would do anything, I shouldn't have wasted the effort.

  Two more knocks and the door swung off its hinges with a blast of hot and cold that swirled through my room and whipped the blankets off my bed. I had stopped sleeping in my boxers years ago for this reason. I had however, forgotten to put a shirt on before crashing last night, or the night before.

  Or the night before that.

  Who knew? I had been sleeping longer than what one would consider normal, staying awake longer. Something that had been getting worse over the past few years, which was irritating for a few reasons.

  "Go away, old man," I grumbled, curling myself into a ball to preserve the last of the heat as the mattress rocked me toward the useless mass that was now bouncing on my bed.

  "I wouldn't say that too loud, Atty. Mom and Dad are on their way. You best get moving if you don't want to get 'the look'," Talon even sounded like the heir to a throne. A few years ago some girl in council described his raspy comm
anding tone as 'sex on a plate' which turned my stomach to this day.

  "What's the point? You know she already knows what's going to happen. And don't call me that." I snapped loudly and rolled over, fixing him with my best scowl, he didn’t care enough to notice. He was leaning against my headboard with his hands behind his head, looking like an out of place god against the sweaty sheets and mussed blankets.

  He was a whole forty years older than me and he didn't look a day over twenty-eight. Oh, the things I had to look forward to as an eternal.

  "Why not? It's your name, Atty." I had wasted a scowl on the idiot, the look having earned me a laugh as he ruffled my hair like the grandpa he was. Or would be if he ever found himself a mate and stopped torturing the poor Chosen who saw him for what he was: their ticket to eternal life.

  "No, it's not." I rolled out of bed and grabbed one of the dirty shirts from off the floor. Skulls, guns, and roses were emblazoned across the front, but no stains. There was no way my mom was going to let me make my appearance before the start of Imdalind Academy wearing it, but if I could take this last chance to prod her, I was going to do it.

  "Rowan Atlas Krul. The king who will carry the world on his shoulders."

  "Not a king. And not Atty." I was firmly ignoring him now, pulling on socks and making sure my shaggy hair wasn't looking like I had slept for, I checked my phone, two days.