The Haven High Book Series (Wattys2017)

Chapter 22

Zach stuffed his backpack into the locker in the boy's change room before training and slammed the door -- hard.

So far this week: he'd been adopted and groomed by a griffin, almost been crushed, thrown up on a medieval battlefield, and now he'd been humiliated in front of an immortal being and a bunch of shifters, and it was only Wednesday. If things continued this way; he was going to be the laughingstock of the entire school.

Not to mention, Knight now hates him, and is hell bent on making his life miserable. And even though a mentor and trainer had not yet been picked for him, Knight continued to pull him aside exclusively during training sessions to make a spectacle of him in one way or another. And there was no reason for him to think today would be any different.

Zach groaned and ran a hand through his mop of hair in frustration. He couldn't wait to get home and hide away from this crazy place. Deliberating on the relative safety of his room, he briefly considered home schooling as an option, as he started to strip out of his street clothes and into the one piece Lycra jumpsuit they all had to wear.

Lauren had been right. It was incredibly comfortable. It almost felt like he wasn't wearing anything at all, but that was the problem, it kinda looked like he wasn't as well.

Hey don't laugh . . . guys have body image issues too.

He wasn't built like the other magical creatures of his school. All corded muscles, with thighs that looked like they could crack walnuts, giant pectorals, and six packs for days. Nope, he was long, lean, and lanky and he thought the suit made him look remarkably like a praying mantis -- all arms and legs.

Zach snorted in derision at the realization that he was never going to learn how to defend himself if he didn't stop making sure his hands were always blocking his package from full view. On the plus side, no one was going to be able to kick him in the privates unexpectedly; on the not so plus side, his face was totally vulnerable, but hell nothings perfect.

When Zach heard the magical chimes that indicated start of meditation he joined the largest group of guys and walked out behind them, just trying to blend in. When he joined Lauren on the meditation mat he flopped down beside her with a loud sigh. She cocked one eye open and gave him an inquisitive look before he promptly closed his eyes and attempted to shut out all the self-doubt and recriminations.

He never said a word to her; he just sat there in silence. Lauren wasn't his favorite not-so human being right now, and he wasn't going to hide it.

Apparently, she got the message loud and clear, because she didn't try and joke around with him like she normally did.

*****

After an hour and a half of Knight tossing him around like a sack of potatoes in an attempt to show his trainees how not to defend themselves, Zach had to practically crawl to the area where the troll bile was kept.

He grabbed a vial with a trembling hand and barely had the strength left in his upper body to pop the cork stopper. In the end, he had to bite it off with his teeth, leaving bits of cork in his mouth that he tried, but failed to spit out, before he chugged the noxious brew. The concoction made him gag several times as he fought to keep it down. Unfortunately, he'd learned the first couple of times that troll bile is much worse on the way up.

There is literally no way to describe the taste, consistency, or odor of troll bile, and that it was the combination of the three that made it truly hideous.

If he was hard pressed to do so, he would have to say that it has the thickness of tomato juice, the consistency of stringy, curdled milk, and the unmistakable taste of snot, mingled with the wonderful odor of rancid meat.

All these things combined lead to a flavor explosion in your mouth. That makes you swiftly consider licking the sweaty sparing mat just to remove the thick film that is deposited on your tongue. Needless to say nearly everyone carries a tooth brush with them to training and can be found afterward vigorously brushing their teeth and rinsing their mouths out after each session.

Zach's gagged several more times before his thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakable bark of his Alchemy and Chemistry teacher.

"Over here Angel Boy!" Knight called across the arena. He must have heard Lauren's pet name for him somewhere, and Zach had to admit, he didn't like it.

The reluctant teen looked over to see the hated teacher standing in the centre of the weapons arena with two very real and very sharp broadswords in his hands. One he was twirling in impossible ways with his practiced hand. The other he had outstretched towards Zach with the hilt side proffered to him, like he expected him to take it.

For the briefest of moments, Zach considered pretending he hadn't heard him and walking in the other direction, but Knight had locked him in his eerie gaze and was now sneering at him as if to say," You're mine."

Zach moaned and did the walk of lame to take his place in front of Knight on the spring form mat. He didn't stand a chance of coming out of this sparing session without some serious injuries, and he was not looking forward to the feel of the sword as it sliced through his delicate flesh. He imagined it would feel like a paper cut, but ten bazillion times worse.

But there was no way he would be able to block the expert swordsman not after only three days training with a child's wooden practice sword. Zach scanned the room to search the faces of the other teachers, no way they were going to let this happen, but they were all engrossed in training sessions of their own, and seemed not to notice anything amiss.

Reluctantly, Zach took the sword offered with a trembling hand and the pommel nearly slipped from his sweaty palm. His heart was a frightened animal in his chest; it hammered on his ribcage begging to be released. Spots formed in front of his eyes and sweat trickled down his face, but he swiped it away with the sleeve of the jump suit with a furious motion.

When Knight sneered at him and chuckled at his obvious terror, Zach felt his crippling fear slowly being replaced with outrage at his situation. This week he had been the brunt of everyone's joke, Knight's whipping boy, and Lauren's lapdog and he was frankly sick to his back teeth of it.

Anger flooded his body and filled his veins with the sweet rush of adrenaline. He gripped the pommel of the iron sword firmly in his hands until his knuckles turned white, and bent his knees into a crouch to lower his center of gravity. No one could say he wasn't learning. You learn a lot about gravity when an immortal has been constantly introducing you to Newton's third law –what goes up must come down.

Zach gritted his teeth and leered back at his now most hated teacher, as he began to stalk the arena, but Knight was unfazed, he just continued to twirl the sword nonchalantly, as he moved with Zach around the enclosed space, countering his every move; until, they both looked like two cobras enthralled by a snake charmers flute.

Which would strike first was the only question on the minds of the entire occupants of the gym. Teachers and students alike had stopped to watch. They could practically taste the tension in the room. It was that palpable.

He could too, but Zach wasn't going to let it intimidate him. He was drawing a line in the sand. He would face Knight head on, no matter the consequences.

As he lifted his sword to dueling height and took his stance he was praying for a miracle because he was going to need it. 

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