Crystal Wing Academy- The Complete Series

by Marty Mayberry

  “Someone’s been talking.”

  “Only stating a fact, right?”

  Turning to face the forest, he leaned his forearms against the iron rail spanning this side of the moat. To his right, a narrow dirt path curved around the outside of the Academy. “My family…Well, they have my life mapped out for me already.”

  “Awesome if you agree with the plan.”

  “That’s just it.” He turned stormy blue eyes my way before he shot them toward the forest again. “I have other things I’d like to do instead.”

  “Are you talking about abdicating your claim to the throne?”

  “Kind of, though not really.”

  More vagueness.

  “If there’s something you want to do in life and it’s within your power, you should just do it. The hell with what your family wants.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “Nothing in life is.” While no one had expectations for my future, I had my own dreams. Impossible dreams, maybe, but if I didn’t try, there was no chance they’d come true.

  “No matter what, I know I don’t want the throne.”

  I propped my hip against the rail and faced Donovan, pretending to gape at him in horror. Deep inside, however, I shared an inkling of understanding. While I ached to harness endless power, it scared me. A kingdom could be the same. “Who’d turn down a throne?”

  “It belongs to my older brother.” Turning, he reached for the door and pulled it open. “Fae willing, he’ll hold onto it for the rest of my life.”

  “While you’ll…”

  His grin sunk through my skin, making me tingle. “Play with weather.”

  We stepped inside and I paused to note landmarks. Classrooms on the right, administration wing on the left.

  “Let’s grab something to eat,” he said. “We can take it with us.”

  At my nod, we went to the coffee shop near the classrooms and got sandwiches and water, and Donovan tossed them into his backpack. We returned to the side entrance where he stopped.

  “Where do you want to eat?” While I was enjoying this adventure, I couldn’t beat back my curiosity. Despite my determination to keep Donovan at arm’s length, he kept nudging his way past my barriers.

  “We’re going up.” Striding forward, he opened the door marked Stairwell. “All the way to the top.”

  “You prefer stairs over elevators?” My legs were protesting already.

  “Going down? Sure. Climbing? Let’s see.”

  I darted past him. “Race ’ya!”

  We flew together, laughing as we did it. Up one flight. A second. Gasping and grunting and elbowing each other playfully. Until we reached the top where I stalled on the third-floor landing and braced my palms on my knees, my sides heaving, my heart more furious than a lion snarling inside my chest.

  “I won,” I said as he staggered up the top step and stood beside me.

  “You did…not.”

  I smacked his shoulder. “Did so.”

  Straightening, he said, “Let’s go.”

  I peered over the iron rail. “Back down? That was…fun?”

  “Outside.” He pointed at one of two doors. The one on my right said Third Floor, and the other said…

  “No Admittance.”

  “Rules were meant to be broken.” He shoved open the door and late-day sunlight flooded the tile floor around us.

  Standing in the doorway, I peered outside. A flat roof covered with crushed stone waited. Boards had been dropped into the stone, creating a narrow path leading away from the door.

  But a roof. Ugh. My pulse slammed up into my throat. “We’re jumping?”

  “Nope.” Donovan strode past me, out onto the boards. The sunlight hit his head and his hair gleamed like a battle helmet. “I jump alone.”

  I followed him, my footsteps light. Tentative. Because he’d sounded grim when he spoke. And we were talking a roof, here, even if it was flat and an iron rail encircled the outer edge. “I was only teasing.”

  He turned to face me, his expression serious, his voice giving nothing away. “I wasn’t.”

  Huffing, I nudged past him and, abandoning the board path for the crushed stone, I walked to the edge and looked down. I gulped as my belly rolled and vertigo took hold of my mind, dragging me down, down. The sucking sensation was quickly followed with the image of the bone-jarring jolt I’d experience if I hit the ground with a splat.

  My body quaking, I turned. I pretended I wasn’t scared shitless and leaned against the rail. Damn thing better be bolted down solid. “I don’t like you jumping. It’s a long way down.”

  “It’s even worse from up there.” He nudged his head to a tower built of rough stone blocks, wooden shingles capping the top. A flag whipped in the breeze on a pole, but I couldn’t make out the image on the surface.

  “We’re not done climbing,” he said. “Which is why I knew you hadn’t beaten me yet.” Pivoting, he dashed toward the base of the tower and grabbed onto a ladder mounted on the side. In seconds, he was scrambling up the rungs, his pack swaying on his back. He didn’t stop until he’d nearly reached an arched, paned glass window tucked beneath the roofline. After prying open the window, he looked down at where I stood on the roof staring up at him, the heat radiating off the sun-soaked surface, baking my toes. “You going to stand there or are you coming?”

  The wind—likely his friend—took hold of his hair and stirred it. Stirred my pulse along with it. Sun kissed his cheeks, and his blue eyes gleamed brighter than the sky behind him.

  In too many ways, this boy overwhelmed me. Challenged me.

  Thrilled me.

  “You’re out of your fae-loving mind.” Hopefully, he misread the shake in my voice as fear of heights.

  Donovan smirked. “You like that about me.”

  My smile rose but I didn’t say a damn thing.

  It was too soon to admit that I did.

  Chapter 14

  I scrambled up the ladder and through the window, joining him in the cramped room at the top of the tower that was empty except for a stool, a tiny table and, strangely enough, a clear corked jar that looked to be half-filled with glitter sitting on the table. Sunlight filtered through the dusty second window behind the table and, beside it, another ladder led to a hatch in the ceiling. I had a bad feeling about the hatch.

  “More climbing,” I said.

  “The view’s worth the effort.”

  A burst of daring filled me. “Show me.” With those words, I broke free of one of the ties binding me to my conformist past. I doubted I’d ever reach the point of jumping but I did want to see what waited for me around the next corner. Or, in this case, on the roof.

  He nudged his head toward the ceiling. “You want to go first?”

  “Ceding victory to me already?”

  “You already won.”

  What exactly had I won?

  Something wild and unnamable flared between us. Part of me wanted to grab onto it and never let go. The other part of me shouted caution. The second part ruled. For now.

  “You go,” I said.

  “You sure?”

  “Yup.”

  He climbed, slower this time, either because the ladder was rickety or because this part of the adventure felt revealing.

  Not sure how I knew he was nervous about this, but I did.

  When he lifted the latch, more sunlight shot inside. It hit the pot of glitter, reflecting colorful prisms across the walls, creating a magical kaleidoscope.

  “What is that stuff?” I whispered in awe, the colors swirling through my mind.

  He didn’t move. Didn’t look down. “Pixie dust.”

  “Like in Peter Pan? You trying to fly?” Which sounded better than the alternative—falling. Splat. Pain.

  “Elites can’t fly,” he said as he climbed through the hole in the ceiling.

  “Bummer.” I followed him up the ladder. Reaching the top, I poked my head through the opening. Gulp x 2. “No rail.”

 
“You won’t need one.”

  “The roof slopes. It’s not flat like the other one.”

  “There’s plenty of room.” He patted the wooden shakes beside him. “You won’t fall. Promise.”

  Reluctantly, I climbed out and settled on the warm wooden surface on his left. The scratchy shingles weren’t slippery. My shoes held me in place.

  “See.” He swept his arm out. “Beautiful, huh?”

  A forest ocean made up of deep greens and the darkest sienna stretched for miles in front of us. We had to be at least six stories above the ground.

  Donovan had found the nerve to jump from here. How had he survived?

  “It’s unbelievable,” I said, awe in my voice.

  “Knew you’d see it like I do.” He pulled out our lunch, and we ate in silence. After putting the trash in his bag and setting it to the side, he laid down on his back, his face reflecting the sky. I dropped down beside him, our shoulders brushing.

  We stared at the clouds for a while.

  “The flag,” I eventually said, pointing to where it fluttered from a pole mounted on the point. “What’s on it?” I still couldn’t tell.

  “A deer.”

  “Earth Coven.”

  “Our Coven.”

  “Moira and Alys’s, too.” Plus, Patty’s.

  “Alys and Moira stole it.”

  Funny way to phrase it. “They seemed to think you’d get Wind Coven like they did.”

  “My weather skapti. And also, because of my family. Long ago, someone in my past helped form Wind Coven.”

  “Does everyone end up in their family Coven?”

  “Impossible.” When he shifted his butt on the shakes, his pants made a scratchy-scrapey sound. “While Alys might insist we’re all directly descended from one of five distinct families, it’s untrue. We’ve mixed together for generations. Some Elites proudly proclaim they’re from one branch or another but other than symbolic family heads, most of us admit we’re a hodgepodge of them all.”

  “That means your family essentially formed all three Covens.”

  “Yep.”

  We lay there a moment, letting the stillness sink through our skin.

  “Your older brother is king,” I said.

  “Yes.”

  “Does that mean your parents…”

  “Mom was queen and Dad was her consort.” A dull, heavy tone entered his voice, like the gong of a church bell before a funeral. “Mom’s dead.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.”

  Shock made me go motionless. My fingers tightened on the shake I clung to, still concerned about falling.

  “She betrayed my father,” Donovan said.

  “How?”

  This time, the silence became awkward, filled with anger and bitterness and a taste of betrayal.

  “Let me teach you mindspeak,” he said.

  A complete subject change, but I wouldn’t push him to talk about things that made him uncomfortable. Resentment rose inside me, however. While I wanted to learn mindspeak, who would I talk to? I had no family to call and, other than Patty, no one would answer my ping. “Go ahead and teach me. Then I can call all my friends.”

  “Don’t do that. Imply you’re not worthy.”

  “I’m an outling.” Bitterness grew stronger on my tongue.

  “And I’ve told you that’s special.”

  “A lot of people disagree. Your family. Students here.”

  “Then they’re not your friends.”

  My smile burst through, dissipating my sour mood. “True.” When he didn’t say anything, I did. “How do I mindspeak? Tell me.”

  “All right.” He rose up onto his elbow, facing me. “Close your eyes. It’ll be easier that way.”

  Closing my eyes would also make it easier to concentrate, which I wouldn’t be able to do with him so close, staring down at me.

  I shut out the world. Except, my other senses ruled. Kids called to each other in the distance. Birdsong hummed through the air. And Donovan…His breathing and his scent of boy, cotton, and sunshine filled my mind to overflowing.

  “I’ll tap your mind,” he said, breaking through the lull I’d slid into. “Ping you.”

  I needed to pay attention to his voice, not keep drinking in the rest of him.

  “Feel that?” he asked with anticipation heavy in his voice.

  My heart shrunk. “No.”

  A soft chime hit my mind. I reached out to grab it but it slipped through my fingers like strands of silk. “Again,” I said.

  Cling.

  I snatched it up and yanked it close.

  Easy, right? he said. It’s not that hard.

  Wait. You didn’t say that out loud.

  Neither did you.

  Oh, my.

  I know, huh?

  We’re talking.

  Mindspeak.

  Patty was right. I didn’t feel as if I could sift through Donovan’s brain, though I was darn curious about his thoughts and secrets.

  What do you want to talk about? I shot out.

  Anything you please.

  How do I call someone using mindspeak?

  Think of their face. If they’re available, they’ll answer. If they don’t, you can wait and try later.

  I chuckled. Just like with a phone. What if I need to call someone I don’t know? For example, the bank or to order pizza. Assuming there were Elite pizza places.

  Look for their number or face in the database.

  Where’s that?

  I could almost feel his grin. It’s already in your mind.

  In his mind maybe. I wasn’t sure about mine.

  Think database, he sent to me.

  I did, doubting it would work but…Whoa. I seemed to have a search engine buried deep inside my brain. This is awesome.

  See? You do have magic.

  I did, even if I didn’t have a skapti.

  One more thing, I asked. How do I hang up?

  You bored with me already?

  Never. The word sighed through my bones.

  …I like that. His reply came out like an admission of much more than the statement itself, but it couldn’t be, could it?

  I asked, since roof-jumping is off-limits, tell me about the pixie dust.

  Also off-limits.

  What’s not off-limits? Even I could feel the frustration churning through my words.

  Just about everything else.

  You talk then.

  About what?

  I’d say off-limits stuff but that’s getting me nowhere. I don’t know…Tell me something about you no one else knows.

  I want to kiss you.

  My eyes popped open and met his. Golden. Slitted. Like yesterday, in the hallway outside the auditorium.

  The first time he touched me.

  As my jaw dropped, he blinked and his eyes returned to normal.

  Chapter 15

  Plop. A raindrop hit my face, followed rapidly by another. In seconds, the sky opened and dumped buckets of water on us.

  “Time to go,” he shouted, scrambling to his feet. He tugged me up beside him.

  Go? Flee, he meant. I understood needing to get out of the rain but this felt rather convenient, almost as if he somehow made it happen before I could ask questions about his eyes. But his power was locked behind barriers. He was only aware of his skapti; he couldn’t control it.

  So I assumed.

  We scrambled through the hatch and then out the window, closing everything up tight behind us. On the crushed stone roof, we ran for the door as rain pelted us.

  Inside the stairwell, I stood dripping, shivering, wringing out my hair.

  “That happened fast,” I said.

  “Freak storm.”

  “Wait.” I glanced around, realizing we’d been up on the roof for a while. “What time is it? I’ve got an appointment with the Headmistress at seven.”

  “Nearly seven now.”

  Where had the day gone? “I need to get a watch.”
/>   “You can just sync.”

  I heaved a sigh. “With what?”

  “The sundial in the capital city.”

  My hand flew to prop on my hip, which I jutted to the side. “Let me guess. More elemental magic.”

  He grinned. “I’ll teach you.”

  “I do like that idea.”

  We stood there a second, smiling at each other.

  “How close to seven is it?” I finally asked, breaking the spell forming between us.

  “Two minutes of.”

  “Crap. No time to change my clothing.”

  We raced down the stairs much faster than we’d come up, our shoes skidding on the smooth surface as we rounded the corners.

  At the bottom, he tilted his head to the left. “I’m going this way. See you in class tomorrow?”

  “Okay!” I said, already rushing right. “Bye! And thanks for the help me with mindspeak!”

  I slammed through the entrance to the section containing the administration offices, found the Headmistress’s door, and knocked.

  “Come in,” she called from inside.

  I bustled into her office, stopping on a braided rug to take everything in. Justine sat at a big, gleaming, brown-stained wooden desk, the top strewn with papers. A chandelier hung from the ceiling arching upward at least two stories over our heads. Two wooden chairs sat on my side of the desk and a bookcase spanned the right wall, overloaded with books I itched to pull out and explore.

  I definitely needed to find time to stroll through the Academy library.

  Behind Justine, a huge window revealed rolling fields stained pink, gold, and orange with sunset. Multi-colored beams penetrated through a series of stained-glass windows depicting unicorns, mermaids, centaurs, a chimera, and a manticore. Ringing them were other stained-glass windows showcasing the crests of the five original family Covens. The sixth was noticeably absent. In its place, someone had inserted a window featuring a sea serpent made up of every shade of green imaginable.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” I huffed out. “And that I’m wet. I got caught in a rainstorm.”

  Justine turned and looked out the window where the late-day sun still shone.

  “It was a quick storm,” I said. Really, I was wet. Did she think I’d showered fully clothed?

  “I see.” Her frown hit me like a rogue ocean wave, knocking me flat. “Sit.”