I didn’t like knowing this about myself.
Other times, I understood why Mom had done it and shame made me cringe deep inside. If only I could’ve stopped myself from hurting Tristan. Then, I’d be with my mom right now.
And she’d still love me.
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it wouldn’t go down.
“Alys puts on a great front, but it’s only to keep from being hurt,” Moira said. We paused beside a flowerbed where tall plants with dark pink blossoms swayed in the light breeze. Moira leaned over and sniffed a flower, smiling.
We continued walking.
“She seems pretty tough to me,” I said. The tough exterior she’d created would be harder to break through than a steel wall. “Who other than her dad could hurt her?”
“Donovan. She’s crushed on him for years, and I think he likes her, too.”
I had no reason to think he didn’t. He’d known her for a long time. They had a history as Elites. Magical pasts and maybe a future if I hadn’t jumped into the picture.
“I hope you don’t think less of me for bringing all this up,” Moira said.
“No, it’s okay.”
“Sometimes, people are easier to understand when you know their motivation.”
I had a better idea about Alys’s, but what was mine? My future here was unclear. If I possessed a skapti, it remained unknown. I wasn’t sure there was anything I was truly good at. As for drawing in power, I’d lost that ability years ago.
Washed up before I even got started. Figures.
The only thing I knew was that I wanted to remain at the Academy. A thirst to learn how to control whatever I’d used years ago had been growing inside me since Mom left me here on the doorstep.
It was my time, and I’d take full advantage of the opportunity I’d been given. I wouldn’t let them send me home.
Ugh. Was that why Justine wanted to talk to me tomorrow night?
“You didn’t tell me your skapti,” I finally said. “But let me see if I can guess.”
Her eyes sparkled as she paused on the walk. “Okay. Shoot.”
“Empathy.”
“How did you…” She laughed. “I’m obvious, aren’t I?”
“Not to everyone.” I turned to fully face her. “What do you read in me?”
“You’re scared.” Not a speck of hesitation in naming it.
Correct.
“However…” Moira frowned, seeking within. “You’re not afraid about what might come next.”
That was debatable. What if Justine kicked me out?
“You’re excited about your future. Eager to learn how to draw power, though I sense you’re terrified you won’t figure out how to control it before it controls you.”
Her insight was damned creepy. I could only imagine her abilities once she’d learned how to draw in power to enhance her skapti.
“You’re also worried you don’t have the strength to handle the power you’ll pull into your stone.”
If I could find the threads again, could I handle whatever they’d give me? I hadn’t done well with the threads seven years ago.
“And you’re happy,” she said. “You have a friend in Patty and me, maybe even in Alys, though that remains to be seen. And you like…Ah.” Her gaze met mine, hers filled with sympathy. “Donovan.”
Was I that obvious?
Moira’s mood sobered in a flash. “Fleur, you need to be careful around Donovan.”
“Because of Alys?” When Moira said nothing, I took a step toward her. “What do you sense in him?”
With short, jerky movements, she pushed the hair off her face. “He’s not what he seems.”
Were any of us?
The tic thrumming in her temple suggested she was nervous. “He has too many secrets.”
Didn’t we all?
Each of her statements stacked another log on a teetering pile. Eventually, the burden would be too heavy and the pile would collapse.
Moira lifted eyes darker than a stormy sea my way. “I get the feeling his secrets could cost you your life.”
Chapter 10
I stumbled away from her, a silly reaction. We stood out in the open where anyone could walk by. What did I think she’d do? Pull a knife and gut me?
An empath was no threat to me.
Or was she?
However, I was horrified about what she’d sensed in Donovan. “You’re saying he might try to kill me?” The idea was ridiculous. He’d been cute and flirty and sweet to me. And other than the odd roof-jumping thing, I liked him.
How well did I truly know him, though? Not much, when it came right down to it.
“I don’t believe he’d do it intentionally,” she said.
Sure, like that helps?
She nudged her head toward the portion of the circular building we approached that must house the cafeteria, and we strode in that direction. “Remember, I only sense moods, not intention.”
How could someone infer my potential death from someone’s emotions?
“Then you’re saying he, uh, doesn’t want to kill me.” My mind was clouded with Ashton’s comments about outling murders. The deaths had been perpetrated by the Elites. Yet, here I was, struggling to find a home among people who might be more interested in seeing me six feet underground than helping me learn to control power.
“Oh, no, I don’t sense that at all,” Moira said, reeling back. In her eyes, I read…pretend horror. An empath, she’d already proven she could read me.
She wouldn’t take what she sensed and use it to manipulate me, would she?
Yes, I’d realized I needed to be cautious with Donovan. But I shouldn’t forget to use that caution with everyone else at Crystal Wing Academy, Moira included.
She continued, “Donovan’s not emitting even a hint of a threat toward you. I sense major conflict. He likes you, but he’s scared, too.”
“Of what?”
Her frown wrinkled her face. “I’m not sure. Maybe hurting Alys or disappointing his family? It could be just about anything but those would be my first guesses.”
“How could liking me disappoint his family?” Alys…well, they were friends. No one liked to hurt a friend.
“His parents would want him to be with a fellow Elite, naturally.”
No matter how friendly and welcoming Moira behaved, I needed to remember she was Alys’s friend. She’d stick up for Alys first—and she already had. But was Moira someone who’d make things up to drive someone like me toward a specific result?
Again, trust no one.
“You’re saying they’d want him to eventually hook up with someone from an original six family,” I said dryly.
“Who else? They need to preserve the Elite bloodline.” To think Moira was oblivious of how snooty she sounded. Latching onto my arm, she held me back when I would’ve continued toward the cafeteria entrance alone. “I know you like him but maybe it would be better to turn your attention elsewhere.”
“It’s not up to me, is it? Donovan can make decisions for himself.” He didn’t need me or Moira driving him toward something he wouldn’t seek out on his own.
“Just thought I’d mention it.” She patted my arm. “Patty has the divination skapti. Maybe ask her what Donovan’s future holds.”
I wouldn’t. Couldn’t. It felt too much like spying. If she saw him happy in the future with Alys, would it change how I behaved from now on?
I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t want to find out. I’d focus on my studies and let boy things follow their own, natural progression. While I was eager to research everything in this world, sometimes, it was better not knowing every detail, letting fate take you where it pleased.
“Does Patty know her own future?” What if you saw your own death coming? I wasn’t sure I’d want to live with that knowledge.
“No diviner does. Only that of others and it’s always selective. Like pieces of a huge puzzle. She’ll start to hone her skills here at the Academy but it may take her
a lifetime to achieve greatness, to know all. That’s how it goes for all of us. We’re here to learn how to draw in power to enhance our skapti. Plus, draw it in for other, simple magical tasks.”
“Like what?”
She shrugged. “We’ll learn them in class.”
“Cool.”
“Don’t get too excited. It’s rare for outlings to do more than draw in very limited power to enhance their skapti. Many of you are…stunted when compared to Elites.” Her voice didn’t come across harsh or judgmental but did contain a thread of conceit. “In fact, most outlings aren’t able to use power for anything but their skapti.”
“Bummer.” Unless…I shook my head. As an outling, I couldn’t hope for anything else, could I?
“After we learn control, we graduate and go on to our careers. It’s like any skill after that. To get better, we need practice.”
Ahead, Patty held the door for us, a strained smile on her face.
“Where’s Bryce?” Moira asked, glancing around.
He’d slipped away when I wasn’t looking. I couldn’t say I was sad to see him gone. My belly had turned into an empty cavern and demanded I feed it. I didn’t want to spend my dinner worrying about his creepy gaze. It might put me off my meal altogether. Persuasion, huh? Felt more like intrusion and that couldn’t be a designated skapti, could it?
“He opted to eat in one of the cafés,” Patty said. She linked her arm around mine. “But don’t you worry. Things are settled. He’ll behave.”
I cocked my head her way. “And if he doesn’t?”
“Then I’ll be after him.”
“Okay.” Wasn’t sure I’d want to be on the receiving end of Patty’s ire. While she was petite, her expression suggested she’d pack a solid punch.
The cafeteria resembled the one I remembered from elementary school, only much bigger. White-topped tables with matching chairs had been placed in strategic locations to create cozy nooks for conversation as well as gaps for students to move among them. Kids strode through the room carrying trays loaded with food. Some sat together, eating and hanging out, while others read books or stared out the windows at the inner courtyard housing the dorms and gardens.
Excitement bubbled in the air, almost like this place contained magic.
I lifted a plastic tray off the pile and joined the back of the line, hoping I’d find something vaguely appetizing among the upcoming options once I reached them. Although, with my belly gnawing on my backbone, even bread and water would do.
Patty and Moira followed me. No Alys. No Donovan, either, unfortunately.
As I shuffled forward, slowly getting closer to where yummy smells drew me in, my gaze was caught by a flash of light on glass. On the left wall, a long stretch of windows overlooked rolling fields and beyond, the northeastern side of the deep, dark forest. Even with the late day sun slanting across it, my eyes could only penetrate a few feet inside the shadows.
Nothing moved there, but a whisper of something called to me from the woods…
I swallowed the solid mass in my throat but it kept rising. My hands clenched tighter on the tray, to the point my fingers protested the strain. I leaned forward, listening.
Come.
“What?” I whispered.
Patty and Moira’s echo of, “What do you mean by what?” hauled me back and I slid inside myself with a jolt. I blinked fast and shook my head to clear it. What had just—
Come!
My heartbeat slowed, a leaf hovering on the edge of a waterfall, poised to drop over the side.
“Lookin’ creepy right now, Fleur,” Patty said. “Fleur?” She elbowed my side. “How about we stop holding up the line?”
A large gap stretched between me and the guy I’d hovered behind after grabbing my tray. How long had I stared at the forest?
Even more important, who—or what—had demanded I come?
With no way to figure it out, I focused on my surroundings. Dinner. Food. Eat. Then I could go back to my room, finish unpacking, and go to bed. I was exhausted.
When I got a look at the meal presented to the guy ahead of me, my jaw dropped.
“Pretty fantastic, huh?” Patty said.
“What can I offer you?” A woman wearing a white top and a puffy chef hat stood behind a chest-high, clear glass panel, bracing her belly against a shorter, stainless steel counter. “Welcome!” Her smile rang true. “What’s it going to be tonight, honey? Name it, and it’s yours.”
I gaped at the guy ahead of me dropping a plate on to his tray overflowing with a juicy slab of prime rib, an enormous loaded baked potato, and two ears of corn with thick pats of butter melting down the sides. He nodded to the chef then headed into the main dining room to find a seat.
How had the chef made that? There was no oven in sight. No tools for food preparation. Not even a stray carrot for roasting. Nothing but the empty countertop and a cluster of chefs standing behind it, taking orders.
“Honey?” the chef asked, her smile dropping a notch. “What can I make for you tonight?”
“What’s available?” I stuttered out. If only I had a menu, then I might know the choices.
The chef grinned. “Anything you can imagine is available. How about a nice Thanksgiving dinner, complete with stuffing, mashed potatoes, squash, and gravy? Or lobster bisque? And, if I do say so myself, my beef stroganoff is stupendous tonight!”
“But…”
“All the chefs at the Academy have achieved Level Five skapti,” Patty said. “Level Five means they’ve maxed out their skill. Name it, and they’ll whip it up in seconds.” She rubbed her stomach. “I’m so freakin’ excited! Mom and Dad can only afford a Level Two chef. This meal’s going to taste better than anything I’ve eaten in my life!”
“This isn’t real, is it?” Someone was going to shout joke soon and the place would erupt with laughter. I’d hang my head, knowing I’d been caught. That I’d started to believe.
Dancing on her toes, Patty nodded. “You can ask for anything.” She wrinkled her nose. “Even if you’re into fried liver and onions.”
I shuddered. Never that. “Okay, well…I’d like…”
Ester had enjoyed ‘plain cooking’. Baked fish with forest mushrooms. Fish casseroles with mushrooms. Hearty fish soups. With mushrooms.
Frankly, I was heartily sick of fish. And mushrooms.
“Nachos?” I asked tentatively. I hadn’t had tortilla chips with cheese and salsa since I’d lived with my mom.
Actually, I hadn’t eaten any chips since living with Mom. I was going through serious chip withdrawal.
“Plain nachos, nachos with chili, with smoked brisket, or nachos with the works?” the chef asked with a smile. Beside her, other chefs took Patty and Moira’s orders.
“Nachos with the works,” I said.
“Sour cream and guac, too? And how about jalapeños?”
“Yes!” Giddy laughter burst out of me. “I want all of it.”
Patty chuckled. “I’m getting the same thing, by the way.” She dropped her head on my shoulder. “We really are twinsies.”
I was totally going to turn my hair pink tomorrow.
“Mild, medium, or hot salsa?” the chef asked. “It’s freshly made, by the way.”
“Hot.”
Holding one hand out, palm up, the chef frowned briefly. A platter loaded with steaming, loaded nachos appeared on the counter in front of her. She lifted it and groaned, pretending it was too heavy to hold. “Here you go, honey.”
“Thank you.” I placed the platter on my tray and shuffled beside Patty, grabbing napkins from a dispenser as I passed.
We paused and looked around for a table.
“How about over there?” Patty asked, nudging her head toward the long bank of windows.
The forest…
Wait. Nothing had called to me from the forest, let alone demanded I come. I’d imagined it.
Besides, Justine, Cloven, and Professor Mealor had placed wards everywhere. Students couldn’t b
e compelled to do anything with the wards in place, could they?
But they didn’t ward the forest.
My flesh pebbled over with goosebumps.
Shrugging off my unease, I followed Patty and Moira and took a seat with them, my back purposefully facing the windows.
I wasn’t scared. I refused to be scared.
But, as I ate, I swore the voice kept calling.
Chapter 11
The next morning after breakfast, Patty and I walked through the lobby and into the hall beyond, joining up with other students heading to the auditorium. Moira tagged along with us since Alys had gone ahead without her.
Inside, we looked for seats. Only one-hundred incoming students in First Year, yet the place was crowded.
“Moira!” Alys called out from farther down in the middle section. “Over here!” She pointed to a seat on her right. Donovan sat to her left with his heels propped up on the chair in front of him. Bryce had parked on Donovan’s left. He leaned close to speak to Donovan but neither of them looked our way.
Like she was dandelion fluff caught in a breeze, Moira floated away to join her roommate, leaving Patty and me with only a quick, bye!
Far be it for Alys to save a place for anyone but Moira.
“Over here.” Patty tugged on my sleeve, pulling me halfway down the stairs. We inched along a row and dropped into seats on the right section of the auditorium, nestled among a bunch of guys.
Cute guys.
When they grinned our way, my mood improved considerably. I fluffed my pink hair, worn to match Patty.
We’d barely had time for introductions—though I was cataloging names for possible future reference—when Justine and Cloven walked out onto the stage together, dressed in robes similar to what Cloven had worn all those years ago. Black with a shooting star and a dragon head on the right pocket. But these robes only came to mid-calf. Underneath, they both wore blue pants that matched the colors in my skirt. The robes made them look magical.
Applause erupted in the audience and a few kids hooted.
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