Kilenya Series Books One, Two, and Three (35 page)

Jacob’s mom frowned. “Don’t talk like that, young man. Be more respectful. And you
are
going to school. Your education is important, regardless of what the Makalos say or need you to do.” She picked up her pen and continued what she’d been doing, signifying the end of the conversation.

The Makalos were a group of people—a race—Jacob had met two weeks ago when he’d gone through a link to a different world near his home. His adventures had been so incredible, he was having a hard time adjusting back to ordinary life.

Matt, Jacob’s sixteen-year-old brother, honked his truck horn out front, and Jacob ran to his room to get his backpack. At least he’d be able to bring the journal the Makalos had given him. That way, he’d have something to do if his classes were boring.

The drive to Mountain Crest was quiet and didn’t take nearly as long as Jacob had hoped it would. Matt parked the truck and walked ahead to meet Sammy, his girlfriend, by the door.

Jacob looked at the school—now
his
school. It was foreboding, almost like the Lorkon castle. He shivered, thinking about that place. He hoped he’d never have to go back. Not only was the castle dark and creepy, but his nightmares since then had come from the experiences he’d had there.

Jacob felt nearly the same amount of fear toward his school, and he couldn’t figure out why. It was just a stupid building, and the people inside were just humans.

The early morning sun was covered with dark clouds—uncharacteristic for the first week in September. Maybe an early snowstorm would hit and school would get canceled. Or maybe the building would be struck by lightning.

Jacob squared his shoulders. In the last two weeks, he’d faced more than these people would probably face in a lifetime. If he could handle a Molg and the Lorkon, he could deal with this. He strode into the school.

While searching for his locker, he finally put his finger on why going to school—not just high school—bothered him so much now. He’d almost been hoping he wouldn’t have to go back. After two weeks of people telling him he was special and would save lives . . . going to school seemed mundane. He wouldn’t be important here. He’d be just another student. Jacob sighed. Back to real life.

He found his locker and opened it, surprised it didn’t creak or need to be hit to open. It smelled like onions, though, and he sighed in resignation, putting a couple of his textbooks on the top shelf.

“Jake!”

He turned. His friend, Tani Webb, ran up to him at top speed, throwing her arms around him, nearly knocking him to the floor in her excitement.

“Summer was so long!” She drew out the “o” in “so” until she almost ran out of breath. “I really missed you! You missed me, too. Say it. Oh, you did! I can tell! Okay, so my locker’s just around the corner. Can you believe how big this place is? I almost got lost looking for the girls’ bathroom! And there’s only one in this part of the school. I mean, how ridiculous is that, you know? ‘Course, I’ve been here before—lots of times for Teegan’s games, but still.”

Jacob smiled in reply. He already felt better. Her upbeat attitude always raised his spirits when he was grouchy. He and Tani had been friends for years. Even though she lived half a mile away, she was one of his nearest neighbors and always played basketball with him and his friends. His smile disappeared when basketball crossed his mind.

“I’ve got to find Coach Birmingham. Is he here yet?”

“How should I know?” She probably hadn’t even thought of him. “What’s your first class?”

Jacob pulled out his schedule and groaned. “Math. Great. First class ever in high school, and it’s math. They must hate me.”

“Who’s the teacher, though? I’m sure not all of them are as bad as Mrs. Peterson.”

“Uh . . . Coolidge. Anyone with that name has to be cool, right? Coolidge is cool.” Jacob sighed. “Or am I just being dumb?”

“Yes. Give me your schedule.” She snatched it out of his hand. “Math, history, woodworking—good, glad you’re doing that again—lunch, science, and choir. Awesome. We have science together. And choir. You’re on your own for math, though. Should’ve taken honors last year.”

“Yeah, and get stuck with Mrs. Peterson for two classes? Not likely.”

The first bell rang and she handed back his schedule. “I’ve got history now. See you at lunch. Josh and Gus are eating with us.”

Tani practically bounced down the hall and around the corner. Jacob sighed, feeling his spirits drop again. He turned the opposite direction. He couldn’t believe math used to be his favorite class. Before Mrs. Peterson had ruined it all.

Mr. Coolidge’s messy handwriting was almost impossible to read, especially from the back of the room. Jacob sighed in exasperation as he tried to take notes. It took him nearly fifteen minutes to figure out that Mr. Coolidge—a tall, big-nosed man who dressed and looked like a member of the Italian Mafia—was lecturing about the order of operations. Jacob slumped in his seat and tuned everything out. He’d learned this over two years ago.

He couldn’t believe they’d started right off with math assignments. Coolidge hadn’t even introduced the class to his expectations for the year. Jacob stared out the window and contemplated taking a nap. Then he remembered he’d brought the journal with him. He could get in some reading. He lowered his hand to his bag, careful not to catch Mr. Coolidge’s attention.

As slowly as Jacob could, he pulled out the worn leather journal. He propped it up inside his tilted math book, facing it toward him where the teacher couldn’t see.

Finding his spot wasn’t difficult. This book only displayed the next words when the reader had internalized the last. Jacob slouched down, making sure the chalkboard was visible just over the top of the book. Then he scanned over what he’d previously read. Prince Dmitri had just rescued Princess Arien and their baby. Dmitri’s best friend, Kelson, had been killed in the process, along with many, many others in the war caused by the Lorkon.

Only one day has passed since we rescued Princess Arien and the babe. How could I have been so ignorant as to think our problems with the Lorkon would end once we completed that task? They attack on every side. I’ve only been king for a few days, and already more than half of the kingdom has been destroyed. Many are now in hiding. The Lorkon are relentless and will stop at nothing to get what they want. But what do they want? More power? Magic? Gold? Land? I cannot understand their intentions.

It has been decided that we must get Kelson’s wife and take her, and the other refugees, to safety. Hopefully we’ll find that safety in Maivoryl City, where we can shut ourselves in to withstand the onslaughts of the Lorkon.

“Mr. Clark, I asked you a question.”

Jacob jerked up in his seat, slamming the math book shut around the journal. “Yes, sir?” He tried to remember what the teacher had just been lecturing about and grimaced when nothing came to mind.

“Your answer? What is it?” Mr. Coolidge paused, then stormed down the row and held out his hand. “Give me your textbook. Anyone
that
absorbed in school literature isn’t reading school literature.”

Dang.

Jacob wracked his brain, trying to think of a way to keep the journal from falling into the hands of an algebra teacher. “I’ll—I’ll put it away now.”

“No. You will give it to me.”

Every eye in the room was on Jacob, and he felt his cheeks flush. He didn’t know most of these students. He slumped in his seat and handed the textbook to Mr. Coolidge.

“Thank you.” The teacher’s dark eyes flashed with impatience, and he pulled open the math book. The small leather journal slid into his hand. “A journal?” He looked incredulously at Jacob.

“It’s not mine. And it’s a very special—”

“Doesn’t matter what it is.” Mr. Coolidge walked back to his desk. “You won’t be getting it back until Monday.”

“But that’s not for four days! I can’t wait that long!”

Mr. Coolidge looked up, glaring at Jacob. “You’ll quickly learn, Mr. Clark, that I don’t mess around. There are punishments for bringing outside material to class.”

“But this isn’t constitutional!”

Coolidge laughed, a short, abrupt laugh. “What are you talking about?”

“Cruel and unusual punishment, sir! It’s unconstitutional! And keeping that journal for four whole days is cruel and—”

“Shut up, Clark!” the boy sitting next to Jacob hissed. “You’ll only make it worse.”

Jacob glared at the kid, then crossed his arms in front of him, scowling at the board. Mr. Coolidge watched him for a moment, probably waiting to see if Jacob would say anything more, then resumed the lesson, asking someone else to answer the question.

Jacob sighed in frustration. How on earth was he supposed to read the journal if it was stuck in a teacher’s room for the entire weekend?

The boy sitting next to him leaned over, and Jacob got a better look at him. He was older—maybe a junior—and had red hair and bad acne. “Coolidge’s really not that bad. Just strict. You’ll actually like this class. I’ve taken it twice. This is my third time.”

Jacob was still angry with the boy for interrupting his discussion with Coolidge, but he took a deep breath and pushed the negative emotion aside. “It’s that fun?”

“Uh . . . Well, I’ve failed it twice,” he whispered. “Mr. Coolidge is a great teacher, but really strict. Don’t try messing around in here again—he doesn’t like it and he’ll openly punish you. But he’s always scarier at the beginning of the semester than later. He does it to establish his authority as reigning king of all math classes.”

The boy turned back to the lesson, so Jacob did too. Mr. Coolidge was still talking about the order of operations and Jacob folded his arms, deciding to pay attention. It was difficult, though. A blonde girl on the front row answered every question the teacher asked, regardless of how hard it was. This prevented any form of variety to enter the lecture.

Jacob contented himself with practicing his magical ability. He hadn’t known he’d possessed it until almost two weeks ago while he was in Eklaron—the world where the Makalos lived. Now he searched out warm spots on his desk, representing weakness. Almost the entire top of it heated up fairly quickly, which didn’t surprise him. The school probably couldn’t afford high-quality desks. He started making the top of it stronger, which kept his attention so he didn’t fall asleep.

He paused when he made a discovery, and leaned forward in excitement. With strong concentration, he could heat up the ink and graphite etched into the desk’s surface, separate from each other and the wood. He was then able to remove the ink and graphite completely, leaving behind a clean desktop. His hands and mind hurt from the effort, but it was fun!

He was in the process of pulling the last of the ink and graphite off the wood—the boy next to him watching in fascination—when Mr. Coolidge stopped his lesson abruptly.

“Mr. Clark, what is it this time? Surely you didn’t find another book to read?”

“No, sir. I’m—I’m trying to . . . ” What was he supposed to say? That he was trying to clean off his desk and make it indestructible?

Mr. Coolidge peered at Jacob with narrowed eyes, then looked at Jacob’s hand, a wad of ink still in it. He stormed down the row again. “Jacob Clark!” he spat. “What
have
you done to your desk?”

“I . . . nothing, sir! I’m fixing it.”

“Fixing it? Fixing it? Stand up this instant. You will not be sitting in the back anymore. Miss Sampson, gather your things and trade places with him. You, Mr. Clark, will be sitting in the front of the class from now on.”

Jacob felt his cheeks redden again. The front of the class? He’d rather die!

One look at the teacher, though, and he knew any argument would be shot down, and fast. He slumped in his new seat, refusing to look anywhere but straight ahead. So much for enjoying Mr. Coolidge’s class.

Jacob shut his bedroom door and kicked off his shoes, glad to finally be home. School had been rough. After the embarrassment in math, he’d looked forward to eating lunch with friends, but none of them had shown up. He hadn’t found out until the class period after lunch that all the “cool” people went to one of the gyms for basketball during that time. That’s where his friends had waited for him.