Faerie Misborn

by Samaire Provost

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  A Surprise

  Chance and I sat in the headmistress’s office, blankets around both our shoulders, sipping hot mead from large mugs.

  The headmistress’s nightcap was askew, and her face was flushed.

  Aspen and Tundra lay at my feet, refusing to leave, even after I uttered the correct spell.

  Chance’s hawk perched on his shoulder, also refusing to leave him.

  Renée had been called, and stood near us, her expression a mixture of shock and relief.

  Several other professors, and a nurse, stood behind us, crowded into the back of the room.

  I sipped my hot mead, and amazed at the warm, honey flavor coupled with the verboten taste of alcohol. The headmistress insisted it would help us gather our wits and recover faster.

  Liesl was brought into the room and ran to me. “HOLLY! They said you’d fallen off the parapets!”

  The headmistress shook her head. “They did not fall, Miss Becker. They were pushed.”

  I glanced up at the headmistress sharply.

  So she knows.

  As if reading my mind, the headmistress continued. “Contrary to popular belief, I know most everything that happens in my school,” she said. “Ever since Miss Ó Cuilinn and the others were lost in the forest, I have had her watched. We cannot afford to let any more mischief befall her. I was alerted to her being out of bed,” she glanced at me and nodded. “Not only is your dorm room being guarded and watched, so is your movement in the castle and on the grounds.”

  I just stared at her, mixed feelings warring in my head.

  “I was notified when she proceeded to the parapets, and so I joined the watch assigned to her myself, and we traced her steps,” said the headmistress. “We stayed hidden using advanced spellwork, no one would have been able to see us. I observed the culprits at the last minute, they were similarly cloaked. We believe they were given an elixir to produce this effect, as they are not yet at the level for such advanced spellwork.” She took a deep breath, clearly upset that such an elixir had been used.

  “I observed them just at the moment they pushed Mr. Mac Craith and Miss Ó Cuilinn over the edge of the parapet,” the headmistress continued. “I was, sadly, too late to reach them before they fell, but I was able to grab the two offenders before they could flee. The guards I was with took them into custody, and they are now being held in the dungeons.”

  I glanced at Liesl and mouthed, ‘the castle has dungeons?’?

  Liesl’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

  The headmistress was speaking again. “My heart was in my throat when I realized they had fallen. To be honest, I think Mr. Mac Craith’s familiar is to be credited with saving their lives.” She looked at the hawk, which began to preen itself proudly.

  That hawk knows what the headmistress just said.

  Oh, my God, our familiars can understand our speech.

  I held my birthday necklace in my fingers, idly turning it over and over, lost in thought.

  Then something the headmistress said brought my attention back to the present.

  “The two students have been summarily expelled, in fact, they were no longer students of the school the moment they committed the double attempted murder,” said the headmistress. “The authorities are on their way to take custody of them.” She turned to Renée. “Miss Page, I am sorry to say your sister was involved.”

  Renée’s eyes went wide.

  “Miss Penner and your sister are the culprits who committed this act upon Miss Ó Cuilinn and Mr. Mac Craith,” the headmistress said. “The two girls are first-year students, so I believe it’s safe to say they had help. Help with procuring the Elixir of Invisibility, at the very least.”

  Renée looked down at her feet. “I am sorry for my sister’s actions.” She put her finger up. “She’s actually my half-sister.”

  The headmistress nodded. She’d probably already known.

  I hadn’t and was somehow relieved at the news.

  “But,” Renée continued, “I am beyond happy that Holly and Chance are okay.”

  I put my head down and smiled.

  My friend.

  “Now,” the headmistress continued. “As for the two of you,” she looked directly at Chance and me. “Especially you, Mr. Mac Craith.”

  Chance sat up in his chair, his attention riveted on the headmistress.

  “You are aware, I presume, of the rule that no student shall be out of bed after hours?”

  Chance went pale and nodded. “Yes, headmistress,” he whispered.

  The older woman turned her eyes to me. “And you, Miss Ó Cuilinn. You were made aware of all the school rules upon arrival, I presume?”

  “Yes, headmistress,” I mumbled.

  “Beg pardon?” she said.

  I sat up and cleared my throat. “Yes, headmistress,” I said, louder.

  She was silent for a minute, her gaze going from me to Chance and back again.

  “You could have died this night,” she whispered harshly, somehow managing to project her voice throughout the room.

  Chance and I hung our heads.

  Another minute of silence filled the room. No one in the room was willing to make a sound.

  “I have called your parents to the school,” the headmistress said.

  My eyes went wide, and my head snapped up.

  I stared into the headmistress’s eyes and my jaw dropped open.

  “Not to be punished, because I think avoiding death and being scared out of one’s wits is punishments enough,” the older woman said. “But because you both deserve to see them and be comforted by them. And because both of your parents went nearly mad with fear at my first missive.”

  MY PARENTS?!

  I knew my mother was dead, because Aunt Clare had told me, and she’d actually been by my mother’s bedside in the hospital room, holding me, when my mother had passed.

  So “my parents” must mean ...

  I gulped in excitement.

  It must mean MY FATHER WAS COMING. HE’S ALIVE AND HE’S COMING TO THE SCHOOL TO SEE ME.

  omgomgomgomgomg

  I began hyperventilating.

  “Oh, here we go,” said the nurse, coming forward and examining me. “Slow down your breathing, Holly. You can do it.” She patted my shoulder and held my back as I coughed.

  “I’m fine. I’M FINE,” I said.

  “She’s fine,” said Chance, shooing the nurse away. He glanced at me, “You are fine, right? Slow down your breathing, Holly. You do NOT want to be confined to the hospital wing when he arrives.”

  I glanced around the room. Only the headmistress, Chance, and Renée knew my father’s identity.

  And before dawn, I would know, too.

  “Mr. Mac Craith, the next time I put you in charge of guarding a royal student, I expect you not to break any school rules,” the headmistress said in a grave tone. She turned to me. “And you, Miss Ó Cuilinn. I would like you to reread the student handbook, paying special attention to the school rules. In fact, I want you to memorize them.” She looked down at me, a serious look on her face.

  “I will do so by tomorrow,” I said. It was after midnight, I had about 22 hours, I guessed.

  How hard could it be?

  There was a knock at the door, and everybody turned to see who was there.

  “Enter,” the headmistress called out.

  Her secretary poked her head in the door. “Headmistress, their parents have arrived.”

  “Send them in, please.”

  The secretary nodded, and the door opened farther.

  A couple entered. The man was a middle-aged copy of Chance, with a few wrinkles, and grey hair at his temples. The woman wore her hair coiffed in an updo, a few strands out of place, and had a worried look on her face. She scanned the room upon entering, and as her eyes fell on her son, she rushed forward.

  “Chance! Oh, Chance!” She whisked him into a hug as he rose to greet her and pressed his face to her in a ti
ght squeeze, tears in her eyes.

  Chance’s father stood next to his wife, his arm around his son, his head bent forward until his forehead touched Chance’s shoulder.

  Both his parents’ shoulders shook softly.

  They were crying.

  The headmistress and I stayed seated, but the rest of the people in the room backed up tightly against the wall, wanting to give the family some privacy.

  There wasn’t a dry eye in the room.

  A minute passed.

  Then another figure entered.

  He was tall and muscular, and wore a forest green coat trimmed in white against the late-autumn chill. His fluffy beard was tinged with green, and going mostly white. A vine of ivy wound its way from his polished black boots, around one leg, and around his middle once; it curled up to the back of his wavy hair and ended in an ivy crown around his head.

  He looked like the old version of Santa Claus I’d seen in the shop windows in New York.

  A hush fell over the room, then a murmur started up.

  “The Holly King! It’s the king! The Holly King!”

  I held my breath. I felt my heart flutter.

  It couldn’t be ...

  His eyes scanned the room, and fell on me, and went soft as tears filled them.

  He stepped forward and the crowd in the room parted as he came.

  I stood up.

  “Holly. Oh, Holly,” he murmured in a deep, rich voice.

  And I knew.

  Father.

  I rushed forward, not caring if it was appropriate, and ran into the arms of the Holly King.

  He hugged me tightly, and my arms circled his huge form, my head turned sideways, my eyes squeezed shut, tears flowing.

  His coat smelled of spruce and evergreen, and his arms felt strong as they carefully squeezed me. The top of my head barely came to his chest.

  After a minute he began to cry audibly.

  He loosened his grip on me and bent over and grasped me around my waist. Up I went. He held me, my feet off the ground, and he leaned backward, holding me tightly in his arms again.

  I never want this moment to end.

  But we couldn’t stay like that forever, and soon, the headmistress came around and pulled a large ornate chair out of the corner and pushed it behind the king.

  He seemed to know it was there. He sat down in it, bringing me with him, and I was suddenly in my father’s lap.

  I lay my head on his shoulders and closed my eyes, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.

  I had a faint awareness of my father’s deep voice rumbling in conversation with the headmistress, whose own voice had a tone I’d never heard from her: deference.

  I didn’t care. I wanted to stay in his lap forever and ever.

  After a while I think I dozed off, because my father was gently nudging me. I kept my eyes shut. I absolutely did not want this to end.

  I heard him chuckle.

  “I think she’s asleep,” he said.

  His arms continued to hold me. I was never so happy to be a small girl in my whole life.

  “She’s had such a hard evening,” I heard the headmistress murmur.

  Then, I heard a voice close to my ear. “Holly, goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Chance. He kissed me on the cheek and was gone.

  I blushed. It gave me away.

  I felt my father’s middle bouncing up and down as he chuckled again. Then I felt him lift me up in his arms.

  “Just show us the way, and we’ll both go to sleep for a few hours,” he said.

  “This way, Sir,” said a voice. I think it was one of the other professors.

  My father walked a short distance to the guest quarters and carried me inside. He lay down with me in a huge sleigh bed, and we both fell asleep, me still in his arms.

  Unfortunately, with sleep comes unconsciousness and the relaxing of arms and legs, and when I finally woke up, I was alone in the bed.

  “OH!” I cried out in sorrow.

  Had it just been a dream?

  “I’m right here, Holly.”

  I turned, and there he was, sitting in a grand ornate chair at the side of the bed.

  Sunlight flooded the room and I moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to him.

  I studied him. His eyes were blue, and I saw the green tinge to his skin was gone. In its place was a rosy glow and a happy smile.

  Merry eyes met mine, and he reached out to grasp my hand in his.

  Speaking of his hands, they were huge. My hand looked so small in his.

  He’d taken his coat off and sat there looking like what a father should be. Relaxed and happy, love shining from his eyes.

  “I expect you have a lot of questions, my dear,” he said.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Explanations

  “I sure do,” I blurted out, louder than I’d meant to.

  “Why don’t I tell you the story of me and your mother, and then you can ask your questions to fill in the blanks.”

  I wiggled on the bed in anticipation, nodding eagerly.

  He looked up thoughtfully. “Where should I start? Hmmm. Oh, I know!”

  He looked down at me and grinned. “I’ll start at the very beginning.”

  “I met your mother Noelle, when she was visiting Ireland, about fifteen years ago. It was mid-December, I believe, and I was walking in the forest near a string of cottages that were rented out by the week. Noelle was eighteen; fresh and beautiful and full of energy. She was there on a vacation with her friends and her grandmother. She would take frequent walks in the forest, and so would I, so I saw her often. About a half mile into the wood, there was a particular spot she was drawn to. It was a faerie ring, a large circle of mushrooms of every size, shape and color imaginable.

  “This faerie ring had been grown deliberately, for it sheltered the faefolk during times of distress, providing not only calm and retreat, but protection and energy. Well, Noelle had been raised in America, and did not know of the customs and tales of her people.”

  “Wait. ‘Her people’?” I asked.

  The Holly King nodded. “Noelle must have been adopted by a couple who moved away. It turns out she was raised in America, in a human household. She did not know of her fae nature.”

  “Mother was one of the faefolk?”

  He nodded.

  “I had no idea! This must mean I am not half human?” I asked.

  “No, you are full-bred fae,” said my father. “And what’s more? Every person in the school knows it.”

  I gasped.

  “How ...?” I felt amazed.

  He smiled. “You would not even be able to see this school if you weren’t. I am sorry, Holly. I instructed the school not to tell you much at all. Not because I wanted to be the one to tell you, but because of the war.”

  “There’s a war?” I asked.

  He nodded. “But we’ll get to that later. I want to tell you about your mother.”

  I nodded; my brain was eager to find out what he had to say.

  “Noelle would frequent the faerie ring, bringing her sketchpad and drawing the different mushrooms that made up its edge. It was quite a beautiful ring.”

  Something told me he had been the one to plant it.

  “Now, one of the times she came to sketch, Noelle fell asleep in the faerie ring. Up until that moment, I had seen her, I had watched her sketching, but I had not revealed myself. But this time she’d fallen asleep, and she was irresistible. I could not help myself. I stepped into the mushroom circle and lay down next to her, and studied her face, memorizing every feature.

  “You see, she was a type of fae that was very rare: she was Elfen. I had not seen one of the Elfen for more than three hundred years. So I was drawn to her. I lay down and studied her features up close. And the magic pouring out of her affected me so greatly that I fell asleep.”

  “Wait, my mother had faerie magic in her?” I asked.

  He nodded. “It was very subtle, and no human would’ve
been able to detect it, but I did, and I was very deeply affected by it. It made me drowsy, and almost drunk with happiness. And so I fell asleep. And apparently, while I was still asleep, Noelle woke up. It was getting late and cooler in the forest, and she needed to return to her cottage.

  “Now, she told me that when she woke up and saw me, and I was in my fae form, she kissed me. Her type of Elfen fae are very sensual, and her kiss woke me up. I remember it like it was yesterday. I opened my eyes and beheld this lovely creature kissing me and my arms came up and held her and we did not stop kissing, not for a very long time.

  “Eventually night fell, but we didn’t care. We were completely absorbed in each other’s magic. We kissed and kissed and eventually, we fell back to sleep. Well, her friends became worried, and in the morning, they began to search for Noelle. It was very early, and I was awoken by the sounds of the search party. I gave Noelle one last kiss, and left the faerie ring. Now, what I believe happened is that her friends found her, and she returned to America. And I had not known you were conceived until this summer.”

  I realized I was holding my breath while I listened. The tale of my mother and father was so alluring, so magical, that I hadn’t want it to end.

  But all stories come to an end.

  I took a deep breath. “Okay, I do have questions, but I’ll tell you what I know,” I said.

  He nodded and seemed as eager as I had been to hear the second half of the long story.

  “Until this summer, I lived with my Aunt Clare in New York City. We were homeless,” I glanced at him, steeling myself for possible judgement, but none came. He looked saddened but continued to listen.

  “Mother had returned from her vacation and returned to school. I think Aunt Clare said she was attending New York University on a scholarship. A few months later, Mother realized she was expecting a baby.”

  “That was you,” my father said, his eyes moist.

  I nodded.

  “When her parents found out, they threw her out of their home. She had nowhere to live. She dropped out of college and became homeless,” I said. “Aunt Clare said she met Mother in a shelter in downtown New York. Aunt Clare said mother was already big with me inside her. So, they became friends.”