Sealed by Fire: The Nature Hunters Academy Series, Book 2 Read online

  Sealed By Fire

  Book 2 in the Nature Hunters Academy Series

  Quinn Loftis

  Illustrated by

  K Keeton Designs

  Copyright © 2020 by Quinn Loftis Books LLC

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  For my husband and my boys.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Cleansed by Water

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Quinn’s Bookshelf

  Prologue

  Her breasts were on fire. Why in the hell are my breasts on fire? Slowly, Shelly’s faculties came back online. She tried to take a breath, but then her lungs caught fire as well. She must be sleeping while her house burned down around her. Why isn’t the smoke detector going off? Why can’t I wake up? Wake up! But no matter how hard she willed herself to open her eyes, her body wouldn’t move. She was going to burn alive, completely aware of it, and unable to do anything to save herself.

  As the thought threatened to drive her mad, she felt flames licking at her feet. They took hold and traveled up her body. The flames sped over her calves, her thighs, and then up her hips and stomach. The burning reached her chest but didn’t slow. It moved right on to her neck, her face, and finally, it covered the top of her head. This isn’t fair. I should be stopping, dropping, and rolling, but I can’t even move. All those drills in kindergarten were for nothing.

  Damn furry, gluteus maximus, son of a teet. Shelly mentally cursed Smokey the Bear and his “prevent forest fire” mantra only because she needed someone to curse, and he seemed the most logical culprit. At least in her panic-driven, pain-filled mind.

  The pain increased, and she wondered why she was still alive. Shouldn’t I have burned up by now? How long does it take the human body to burn to death? That would have been helpful information to know. At least she would know how long her torture would last. And if burning alive didn’t kill her quickly enough—and it obviously wasn’t—then maybe they should have taught how long it took to die from smoke inhalation. Then, at least she could breathe deeper to hopefully hasten her demise. Just die already. If she couldn’t force herself to wake up, then maybe she could end her life faster by willing it so.

  Good grief. You know things are bad when you are trying to will yourself to die.

  She wished she could move, even if it were just to flail about like an idiot. Anything would be better than being frozen in her burning flesh. As the frustration built inside of her, Shelly found herself screaming every profanity she could think of, though it was only in her mind, since she had no control over her body. She let the pain overtake her, and rage followed on anger’s heels. When she was exhausted from screaming, she cried. And when she didn’t have the energy left to cry, she just burned.

  1

  Ra entered his room and moved quickly. He’d traveled straight from Terra Academy’s grounds to Crimson Academy in a lightning-fast whirlwind of smoke and fire. Desperate to leave as soon as possible, the elementalist sent word with a fire imp to the headmaster and headmistress to expect him in a few moments.

  He made quick work of changing into his fighting clothes. Unlike most of his other classmates, Ra didn’t train in typical military-style clothing. Instead, he wore clothing modeled after the royal warriors of his Egyptian ancestors. On his chest, he donned thick leather straps that crisscrossed him, protecting both his back and front. The bracers of his ancestors might have been made from bronze or copper, but Ra’s were leather interwoven with a nearly indestructible modern metal alloy. Instead of pants, he wore a wrap of the same leather and metal construction that hung to his lower thigh. It bore slits every three inches that ran up to the waist, allowing free movement of each of his legs. Instead of leather sandals on his feet, he wore boots that perfectly fit his feet and wrapped protectively up his calf to the top of his knee.

  Once dressed, Ra slipped a quiver of arrows over his shoulder. He buckled the belt holding his short sword around his waist and adjusted the blade to rest on his right side. Finally, he buckled on the sheath that held his dagger to his left thigh. The slits in his wrap made it easy to get to the dagger should he need it. He slipped a necklace on that bore his royal name. A cartouche, it was called in modern day. To him and his people, it was a way to add protection.

  Noticing his phone lying on his desk, he remembered that his friends from the other academies had wanted to see him off. He imagined they may not have realized he wasn’t going to sleep that night. Yet he’d been unable to rest for a moment since the enchanting green-eyed girl had been flung from the grounds of Terra Academy through a portal to the underworld. Now, Ra felt an urgency he didn’t understand, but he knew he would not be able to wait until morning to journey after Tara’s friend. So, he texted Elias to let him know he was leaving and not to worry about seeing him off. That done, Ra walked to the door, picked up his bow and shield, and headed out.

  Ra jogged through the corridors of the academy until he reached the large doors leading to the offices of Headmaster Jeremiah and his mate, Headmistress Talia. Ra knocked and waited. His mind kept picturing the blonde female that the acolyte Tucker had handled so roughly. Ra’s jaw clenched as he remembered how she’d been carelessly thrown through the portal, like a bag of garbage into a dumpster. At that point, something inside of him had snapped. He’d wanted nothing more than to drive his blade through Tucker’s chest and watch the life drain from his eyes. Apparently, Ra’s rage had been even greater than he’d realized because he’d ended up beheading the man.

  The door in front of Ra opened, revealing Professor Bernhardt. The man taught several subjects related to human warfare, including the use of martial weapons. “Ra,” the professor said with a slight bow of his head. Professor Bernhardt was old—very old—and he understood Ra’s ancestry. Because of that, the man often acknowledged Ra’s royalty with a bow, even if it was just his head.

  “Professor,” Ra said in greeting. “I need to speak with the headmaster and headmistress.”

  “They’ve been expecting you.” The professor motioned for Ra to enter, and he stepped through the doorway and into the office.

  Professor Jeremiah, the headmaster of Crimson Academy, stood at the front of the room. His hands were clasped behind his back as he stood tall and regal. His eyes took in Ra’s appearance. If the professor was surprised the student was dressed as if he were ready to go to war, his eyes didn’t show it.

  “The headmaster from Terra Academy has been in touch,” he said. “Terrick explained what happened with the human female.”

  “She is in the underworld. She was alive when they threw her into the portal,” Ra said. He kept his voice even, but inside, his blood was boiling.

  “And you want to go after her?” Jeremiah asked.

  “How is this our problem?” asked Professor Bernhardt. �
��The girl was taken on the steps of Terra Academy. Shouldn’t they be responsible?”

  Ra started to growl but choked it back. “I am the ideal person to go after the human female,” he said, ignoring Professor Bernhardt and staring straight at Headmaster Jeremiah. “You know it.”

  “You are a very skilled warrior, Ra,” continued the professor. “In fact, you’re the best we’ve had at this academy in a very long time. But you are a student, nonetheless. We have more experienced warriors to send should Terra Academy require aid.”

  Ra didn’t acknowledge the professor’s statement. He simply continued to stare directly at the headmaster, who held the student’s gaze.

  After several moments of silence, Professor Bernhardt spoke again. “Why do I feel that I do not have the whole story here?”

  “May I?” Headmaster Jeremiah asked.

  Ra wanted to tell him no. They were wasting time. He had no idea how long it would take him to find the female once he got to the underworld. But he gave the headmaster a nod.

  “You are aware that Ra is a direct descendant of the ancient Egyptian pharaohs,” Headmaster Jeremiah said.

  “Of course,” Bernhardt answered.

  “Because of his bloodline,” Jeremiah continued, “he has certain connections. The ancient Egyptians worshipped the lord of the underworld and are paying for that loyalty with an eternity in his realm.”

  Professor Bernhardt’s eyes widened as he looked at Ra. “You believe your ancestors will aid you somehow?”

  “Yes,” said Ra.

  “How will you find them? There are seven levels in the underworld. They are vast.”

  Ra knew the professor’s concerns were legitimate. The underworld wasn’t simply a vast pit as some believed. It was an entire world in and of itself. Though vastly different from the up-world, it was nearly as large. Instead of being a spherical shape like the earth, the underworld was made up of seven levels. As might be expected, the lower the level, the darker its occupants.

  “I have ancestors who were pledged to the lord at their death. Their souls reside in the underworld. They will help me navigate.”

  Bernhardt looked anything but convinced. “Ra—”

  “Professor,” he interrupted. “I mean you no disrespect, but I know more about the underworld than any professor at this academy.”

  Bernhardt frowned and looked to the headmaster.

  “It is true,” Headmaster Jeremiah confirmed. “Ra possesses the memories of all of the pharaohs in his bloodline. He has had contact with those in the afterlife, and they have shared their knowledge with him. I, too, am loathe to send anyone into the underworld, Bernhardt, especially a student. But Ra is safer there than any of us would be. Just because we have the ability to enter doesn’t mean we would be welcome. He may be.”

  “Regardless,” Bernhardt replied, “this isn’t our fight.”

  “It is, I’m afraid,” said Jeremiah. “We have definitive proof now that dark elementals of differing attunements are working together.” Bernhardt’s face darkened as he stared at Jeremiah. “This makes them all the more dangerous,” the headmaster continued. “As such, the academies must respond in kind. We will help our brethren.”

  A door behind Headmaster Jeremiah’s desk opened, and Headmistress Talia entered. Her face lit up when she saw Ra. Ra knew she was the type of headmistress who saw all of the students as her children. And she often treated them as such.

  “It is good to see you, Ra,” she said as she came over to him and gave him a hug. Ra didn’t return the gesture, as he wasn’t particularly affectionate and preferred not to be touched, but that never seemed to bother Headmistress Talia. Liam, who also knew of his secrets, said it was because of his bloodline. Pharaohs were considered deities to their people, and it was forbidden to touch them. Liam joked that Ra was just channeling his inner pharaoh. Ra ignored his idiot friend because he knew it was just a personality thing. Being touched felt like ants on his skin. So, Ra avoided it if possible.

  “Whatever you boys are talking about, it must be quite serious,” she said as she took her place at her mate’s side. Jeremiah rested his hand on her back and pulled her closer.

  “Ra is going to the underworld,” he told her.

  Talia’s mouth dropped open. “Why?”

  The headmaster quickly filled her in, and when he was finished, Ra was so tense he worried his grip would snap his bow in half.

  “Shouldn’t you at least take another warrior with you?” Talia asked him.

  Ra shook his head. “I don’t know how my ancestors would respond to another. I just want to get started. While we stand here discussing this, the female remains vulnerable in the underworld.”

  Talia’s face softened. “You are right. Go, Ra. Get the human back and then return to us.”

  “In the meantime,” Headmaster Jeremiah said, “we will meet with the other heads of the academies. The threat has become too great to ignore.”

  Ra agreed. It was about time the segregation between the elemental academies ended. They were allies and needed to start acting like it.

  “I will return as soon as I can,” he said.

  Professor Bernhardt spoke before Ra turned to leave. “I will let your instructors know. We will work out a time for you to make up your classwork … assuming you return safely, of course.”

  “I trust Ra’s abilities,” said Jeremiah.

  “Thank you,” Ra said. He bowed to the headmaster and headmistress and then left the office.

  Ra raced for the staircase leading to the deepest part of the castle. At the top was a locked door that would only open for a select few. Owing to his bloodline, he was one of them. He pushed past it and barreled down the many flights of stone steps, not even waiting for the door to click closed behind him. He took the steps two at a time as he descended. He heard the sound of whistling floating up from the lowest floor.

  “Greetings, Ra,” said a creaky voice when Ra’s foot hit the bottom step. “Long time no see.” A goblinoid creature, it’s skin tomato red, stood in front of another heavy door.

  “No time to talk, Zrag. Just open the door.”

  “That’s no way to treat an old friend.”

  “I’m going to treat you to the end of my blade if you don’t open the door by the time I count to three.”

  “You still owe me a pint of mead.”

  “One…”

  “You’re just like your father.

  “Two….”

  “He was impulsive, too,” said the goblin.

  “Thr—”

  “All right, all right, keep your bracers on,” said the goblin. He fished around on his belt until he retrieved a large iron ring bearing many bent and brittle looking rusty keys. He appeared to be considering them carefully before he finally turned and inserted the most bent and brittle of the lot into the door’s keyhole.

  Leaving his hand on the key, Zrag turned back to Ra. “Are you sure you want to cross the river alone. Styx can be a cruel mistress.”

  “I’m fully aware of the dangers. I’ve been across many times.”

  “Never alone.”

  “Just do it,” said Ra.

  The goblin shrugged. “Tell ol’ Charion hello from me.” With that, Zrag turned the key, and the resulting click echoed throughout the stone stairwell.

  Ra pushed past the goblin and sped into the darkness on the other side of the door. He heard the creature yell at his back, “You’re welcome!”

  Within a few paces, Ra saw the river, a ribbon of black stretching across the dimly lit cavern. It flowed straight under the castle and into the bedrock below. Because of the river’s danger, very few students knew of its existence.

  Ra paused and knelt on the banks of the slow-moving water. He drew in a deep breath before placing a hand in. The man began to whisper words in a long-forgotten Coptic language. He felt the rush of heat as the river started moving in the opposite direction. Ra turned his head and watched the water flow from a tunnel carved into the fa
r wall of the cavern. He tried not to fidget but couldn’t help tapping his foot and rubbing his chin.

  After a few moments, a figure came into view deep within the tunnel. For a moment, it looked like a skeleton gliding upright across the top of the water. But soon Ra could make out the small boat the figure was piloting. All of a sudden, the skeleton and his boat were thrown into stark relief as the tunnel began to glow reddish-orange from deep within.

  If Ra hadn’t known better he would have thought he was hallucinating as he watched the skeleton slowly gain flesh. Soon a naked man piloted the boat. As the man pushed the craft along, garments began to form on his body, so that when he finally bumped against the bank in front of Ra, the man’s form was covered by a long black cloak.

  The ferryman held out a hand. “Payment,” he said in a voice that was raw with disuse.

  Ra pulled the dagger from his thigh and ran it across the palm of his hand. Then he held the bleeding hand out over the man's outstretched hand and let his blood drip.

  After a minute the man nodded and closed his hand into a fist. “It is enough,” he said.

  Ra slipped the dagger back into its sheath and then took his other hand and held it over the cut. He called on the fire that lived inside him. The flame coated his hand, and he ran it over the wound. It closed, and the flesh was healed as if the injury had never been. Then he stepped into the boat and stood at the prow. “Take me to the resting place of the ancient pharaohs,” he commanded.

  “You should be on guard, my lord,” the ferryman replied. “Unrest plagues the realms of the underworld.”