Spirit of Fae Academy

by Kendal Davis

  My beautiful mortal lover’s face drained of color, then went as pink as her hair. “Seriously? You think you can just show up and everything will be fine? We all know what you did when you went with Hellebore.”

  Alder was dispassionate. “Yes. She had selected a mortal in your world whose life she wished to end. I assisted with that, as I have sworn to do.”

  “When did you make her such a promise? In bed?” Ciara’s scathing words made us all jump.

  “I have known her for a very long time,” the huge man said. He was definitely not one for giving out information.

  “And were you lovers?” At Ciara’s anguished question, the rest of us stepped back. Nobody wanted to be too close to such conflict, not even Lily.

  “Ciara, pay attention. Hellebore is a fire fae, bonded to Headmaster Landon. My own affinity was for air, and now earth. What you are suggesting is not our way.” Unfortunately, I could still hear Alder’s words through my bond with Ciara, even though I was not near. I knew Rook could as well.

  “I don’t know, maybe there are things I don’t know about how this all works.” Ciara was on the verge of tears. She was overtired and overworked.

  Alder tried to take her hand, but she would not let him. I couldn’t blame her. “Listen. All that matters when it comes to magic is your promises. I tried to tell you before. I cannot betray Hellebore, because I am sworn to her. I will not allow myself to be forsworn, for it would be the end of me. Have you not learned yet that spells surround everything here?”

  “Illusions, you mean?” Ciara snapped. “Like when I thought you cared about me?”

  In answer, Alder lifted both hands, as if he were about to summon his earth magic. But he did not. Instead, once he had her attention, he allowed one hand to drop to his side. Then he turned the other hand over, exposing the inside of his wrist. The moment he did it, I knew.

  We all knew. Ciara’s sinking sense of horror at what she was seeing reverberated through both me and Rook.

  Alder’s wrist was marked with a five-petaled flower, just as ours were. It was the mark of an Eternal Assassin, of loyalty to Queen Hellebore. He’d gone with the Queen, and he’d killed for her, not because he loved her, but because he truly was sworn to kill for her.

  And, I privately added in my own head, he had once loved her. When Ciara caught my thought, she shook her head. Somehow, this new piece of information that had jarred me so badly had given her new hope.

  “Come here, all of you,” she gasped. As we approached from where we’d been pretending not to listen, she was almost smiling. “Look. Alder is an Assassin, too. How did none of us guess that? It explains everything. That’s why he can see our marks, because he is a member as well. It doesn’t have to be over between us.” She tried to catch his hand, but he pulled away.

  “Yes, it does,” he said woodenly. “I have been sworn to the Queen as an Eternal Assassin for a very long time. Don’t you see?”

  Ciara shook her head mutely.

  Evana was perhaps the only one of us who was brave enough to supply the answer. “His oath to her predates his bond with you, Ciara,” she said, her voice low. “That first oath is the one that ties his soul. If he were ever to choose you, that is when he would be forsworn.”

  15

  Ciara

  My emotions swirled desperately in my mind, as if I could speed them up and arrive at a different conclusion. The ideas that clamored for my attention, however, all ended at the same roadblock. It was true. How had this salient piece of information taken so long to sink in for me?

  I refused to stammer, or to show how lost I felt now. My voice was clear and even. “I understand. For both Rook and Owain, the bond with me came first. They loved me before they ever accepted the invitation to the Eternal Assassins, and to the Queen’s forces.”

  “That’s right,” Rook said emphatically. “Our bond was in place before the night the secret societies inducted us.”

  “I do wish we could stop thinking of it as an invitation, though,” said Owain. “We had no choice, not if we wanted to stay at the Academy.”

  “And for Ciara, that really isn’t a choice at all,” mused Evana. “If she does not complete her three years at school, she will not survive.”

  “You make it sound so dramatic,” Lily jeered. “She accepted that deal when she was still in her mortal land.”

  I shook my head. “Even then, it was not really by choice. When I was selected as a baby to receive the Queen’s gifts, to come here and take my place among the fae, do you think I had the option to agree or disagree?”

  “Maybe not,” Lily shrugged. “Most of us don’t have as much choice as we’d like, anyway.” Her wry answer made me look twice at her. Maybe the blonde beauty was not as pleased with her life as she liked to pretend. She was pampered, rich, and razor smart, but she was still confined to the limited choices available to her.

  “You all knew that accepting induction into the Assassins meant real killing,” I was abrupt in my frustration with all of them. “I didn’t. That’s a big difference between us.”

  “And they are your people as well,” Evana said with sympathy.

  “That is why I hurried to do the Queen’s bidding,” Alder almost mumbled. Was it possible that he had some feelings that he was hiding? Nobody could possibly be as stoic as he appeared. “I wish I could protect you from all of this,” he said. “But the Queen is more powerful than any of us.”

  “That’s just wrong,” I said, looking him in the eye. “I have four elements where she has only one.” Belatedly, I realized that I sounded as if I wanted to sell my own charms, as if we were in some sort of contest. It was beneath me to try to convince Alder that I was better for him than the Queen, or better for the fae. If he didn’t choose me of his own accord, then I didn’t want to force it.

  When I noticed that Finley looked acutely uncomfortable, I sent him a weak smile. “I’m sorry that you had to hear all this. As you know, it is the most secret of topics that you could possibly have stumbled into here at the Academy.”

  He shook his head faintly. “I won’t tell anybody. It was my own fault for following where I was not asked.”

  “But what if somebody pries the information from him?” Rook asked. “We could all be expelled, just because he tagged along.”

  “Truly, I would not,” Finley protested. “I care too much about...the honor of all of us.” It was a reasonable answer, but I had wondered for a moment if he was going to say something else.

  “This is a bad idea, in so many ways,” I said grimly. “It is not my way to trust others like this.”

  Alder’s hard stare made it clear that he did not like it either.

  But there was no way that Finley was lying, was there? He’d helped us on our mission. He’d been kind and supportive, and I could have sworn he was falling for Evana. It was not possible for that to go wrong as well.

  Evana saw my distress and sent me a briskly kind nod. “Come on, we need to get back into the castle. Professor Thorn knows where we’ve been, but nobody else does. He might cover for us, but we can’t be sure.” She linked her arm through mine, and we made our way up the steps and into the castle.

  Our hoped-for scenario proved to be correct. Professor Thorn had somehow concocted a cover story for us that involved an overnight camping trip for which Alder had been our steady, faculty chaperon. I almost smiled at the idea of him as a proper escort, since surely it was obvious to everybody that we were on the verge of bonding.

  We had been.

  Now that I’d seen the real him, I knew he was the Queen’s man, and a killer.

  But I never asked him whom he’d killed. I did not want to know.

  Many weeks passed without any new developments, on any front. Alder pretended that we had a cordial, arms-length relationship, and I did my best to pretend that he did not exist at all. There was no sign of the evil monarch of the fae, which ought to have comforted me but instead did the opposite.

  One afternoo
n in Magical Potions class, however, everything changed. Professor Celadon was a favorite teacher for most of us. Her subject was always interesting, and her manner was friendly. Some of the other teachers cultivated a remoteness that was not unlike rudeness, but she never did.

  As the slender Potions professor strolled between our desks, she made the announcement we had anticipated since the term began. “Today,” she said in a crisp tone, “I want all students to confirm their plans for their independent research project.”

  I sat as still as possible, hoping I would not draw attention to myself. I’d been planning for this moment since last year, but I still was no closer to an answer.

  Owain was at the desk to one side of me, while Evana occupied the other side. It had seemed like a rare treat at the beginning of term to have two of my favorite people in class with me. For whatever reasons, the administration always seemed to penalize me when it came to my course schedule. It was as if somebody in the office wanted to make sure I did not have my best friends to lean on. I had never allowed that to bother me, though. I had too much to accomplish here to worry about obstacles outside of my control.

  Evana knew what I was thinking. “Ciara,” she said, leaning toward me. “Don’t get too much in your own head on this one.” She was so practical that she never stumbled on such things.

  Owain did, though. He gave me a reassuring nod. “I know what it’s like to overthink things, believe me. But this time will be different.”

  I tried to relax. “Do you mean for me, or for you? Because I really don’t have an idea what I’m doing for my project.”

  Professor Celadon stopped abruptly in front of our desks. “There is so much talk in this corner of the room that I wonder if you are all as prepared as you believe yourselves to be.” Her words were crisp, but her smile was real. She was a graceful woman who was perhaps younger than some of the other faculty members. It had been impossible for me to guess the ages of fae when I came here, and I had made virtually no progress on that, even into my second year here.

  Evana sat up straight. “I hope we are.” She met the teacher’s gaze without fear, as she was, indeed, always ready with the right answer in class. She had been a quiet student since I’d met her, but a new confidence was now growing in her, and I thought I knew why. “I am planning to put together a study of the import/ export balance of the air potion ingredients that the fae trade with the underworld.” She finished in a rush, but her hands were steady in front of her on her desk.

  Our professor nodded thoughtfully. “I like the sound of that. We have covered a lot of background material on that topic, though, so I hope you will have something new to contribute.”

  When she looked at me, I had to admit that I was unprepared. All I could say, sounding very lame indeed, was,“I regret to say that I have not yet decided.”

  She looked at me, merely waiting.

  “It’s just that I know most students choose their final project based on their own particular affinities,” I hurried to add. “And I have four, so…”

  Professor Celadon was not distracted. “We all know that, my dear. It is not an excuse, but rather a point against you that you have so much to choose from, yet you are unprepared. You must have your project prospectus on my desk within the week.”

  I sighed. She could have been a lot stricter than that. When she moved on to speak to Owain, I thought the time had come to relax. However, I had never been more wrong.

  “Professor Celadon,” he began. “I am pleased with what I’ve been planning.” As he spoke, he drew a small packet from within his shirt pocket. When he brushed against the emblem of the school that was embroidered on the white broadcloth, I felt a tiny thrill of pride that this was my school. Our school. There was nothing that would keep me from trying my best.

  Then I saw what he had.

  As he unwrapped the dark green, perpetually damp fronds, he shot me a look that suggested my reticence. That was an understatement.

  “I plan to study the use of these marsh plants when it comes to suppressing fae magic.” He spoke quietly, but firmly.

  Professor Celadon tilted her head as she studied the greenery. “I have not seen this plant before. I’m quite sure of it.” She peered at him, searching for the answer. “You will need to include the exact place of harvest in your report. Are you prepared to do that?”

  “I am,” he said softly.

  The rest of the class was uneventful, but my own unease with Owain was growing. When we made our way into the stone hallway, I all but exploded at him. “I can’t believe you did that without checking with me! You are putting us all in danger.”

  “Not at all,” he said mildly. “It is in the name of science, of research. I didn’t expect you to be so upset. Would you rather I change my project?”

  I drew a slow breath, aware that he was being far more reasonable than I was. “But won’t your work draw attention to the fact that we were there, in the marshlands? We were so close to the mists. Just like the grasses were.”

  “Yes. I want to learn whether they can be useful to the fae.”

  “There is nothing useful about stealing magic, or destroying it,” I muttered.

  “What if it meant we could cleanse Alder of the Queen’s prior claim on him?” Evana spoke under her breath. When she said it aloud, I realized that Owain had meant that all along.

  Without words, I leaned into his embrace. “That’s what you want to do? Even though you aren’t crazy about him?” Just the idea that even a sliver of hope existed for my and my forest man made me feel like a new woman.

  Owain encircled me in his strong arms. “Of course. If you want your bond with him, then I do as well.”

  I turned back to ask Evana if she thought it could be done, but she was gone. When I saw that she was hurrying to meet Finley as he came from another classroom, I smiled up at Owain. It had taken long enough, but now she was finding her own bond.

  “It is good to see her happy,” I said to my handsome water fae.

  “It is,” he agreed. “And will Rook and I expect you in our chambers after dinner?” He raised his eyebrows in a lascivious tease, trying to shake me from my funk.

  “Maybe,” I said, my own listlessness returning. “I know I’ve been sleeping in my own bed more these days, but sometimes I just feel so unsure about whether my choices are the right ones.”

  “Don’t second guess yourself,” he said calmly. “Our bonds are always right.”

  I did not say it aloud, but we both heard my thought. If it was right to be with Rook and Owain, why was I so uncertain about Alder? I still wanted him, body and soul. But he was somehow unreachable. Even if Owain found some sort of solution to our magical quandary, the fact remained.

  Alder was dangerous, for all of us.

  16

  Alder

  There was so much I wanted to tell her. When I slept, which was rare these days, all I could dream of was explaining my past to Ciara. At the same time, though, I knew I never could.

  She would hate me if she knew what I’d done and where I’d been. Just as she hated Hellebore. The Queen had told Ciara straight to her face that she wanted to consume her and steal her fourfold magic. For that, Ciara would always hate her.

  But was I any different? I had turned my back on my bond with Ciara, even though desire for her burned within my soul. The fact that she knew how much I wanted her made it that much worse, for it made her think that I loved Hellebore more. If only I could tell her how I despised the selfish Queen.

  At dinner in the Great Hall, I watched her as I always did. She had proved to be more popular among most fae this year than last. Where she had once been a curiosity, as a mortal who could never belong here, now she had found something of a place for herself. Her friends were well-liked and successful. Most of all, though, her own abilities secured her a place of respect.

  I knew too well that fear could be synonymous with regard in that situation.

  When Professor Thermophilus, as
the acting Head of the school, called for silence, all chattering stopped at once. The students were all aware of how important this evening was for them. It had come later in this school year than last, causing endless rounds of speculation and whispered guesses. They’d known the moment they walked into the Hall and saw the festooning of lights on the ceiling. It was the day that the secret societies would make their choices from the first-years.

  At the Headmaster’s instruction, the new students waited silently at their seats for their invitations to appear in front of them. The tiny parchment envelopes contained the news they had waited for, most of them for centuries. No student at the Academy was allowed to reveal what they saw on their parchment. I’d heard that last year, a young man had exclaimed aloud over his news, and had been promptly expelled, teleported by the faculty from the castle without further discussion.

  Secrecy was of the utmost importance, even though most of the clubs were nothing but social opportunities, or hobby groups. I watched Ciara, checking to see if she could read any of the magic from the other students. When I saw that her face remained impassive, I decided that either she could not, or her ability to conceal things from me was better than I’d expected. Either one might be true these days. I hated to admit it, but we were growing apart.

  Thermophilus nodded as she watched the first-years digest their news. “As always, the clubs will meet tonight to welcome new members. These meetings will be just as confidential as the news of which organization has selected you.” She gestured toward the long faculty table where I sat, at which the professors looked just as interested, for once, as the students. “You will now receive an instruction from your elemental advisor, letting you know where you should teleport from here. If you are required at a meeting of your secret society, you will go there. If not, please go to your own quarters and stay there for the rest of the night.”