Crystal Wing Academy- The Complete Series

by Marty Mayberry

  “Don’t even talk like that!”

  “Cloven said they’ve created wards,” I said. “You don’t need to play bodyguard anymore.”

  At my attempt to put distance between us—to save her some pain—some girls would’ve stormed away. Or gotten teary. Not my fierce friend, Tria.

  A sharp V formed on her brow. “Is that why you think I hang around? ’Cause, if it is, I can take off right now. I’ll just leave you to handle whatever the magical world throws at you all by yourself.”

  Emotionally wrung out, I leaned against the opposite rail. “I’m sorry. Again. I didn’t say it to be mean. It’s just…” How could I share my pain? “I know you’re here as a friend. I’m lashing out because of this.” I held up my hand. “And because…”

  Her gaze pinned me in place. “Spit it out. Because what?”

  “Because I’m not the only one bespelled.”

  “Donovan.”

  And there we had it. Everything paled compared to that.

  A fist wrapped around my throat, making it impossible to breathe. “I’ve done everything I could to keep hope alive. Every spare second, I’m trying to find a way to reach a Level Five. Trying to drag up enough emotion to make a higher level spell happen all on its own, like I did with the nightlace. It doesn’t work, no matter how horrible I feel, how much this is shredding me to pieces.” I gulped and my eyes stung all over again. “But Donovan…” Damn, but it killed me to say his name. Seeing him, being with him, had brought the ache of his loss to life all over again. “Don’t you see? If—when—I die, it’ll be final. Too late. He’ll never remember me.” The fissure in my voice spilled out my pain. “And it sucks, because I don’t have enough time to learn.”

  “The king’s an asshole for doing this. You’re worth three of him.”

  My laugh leaked through my tears. “Only three?”

  She released a creaky smile. “Let’s up that to five.”

  “Donovan knows me, deep inside. That’s why I keep trying.” I dropped down onto the bridge and stretched out my legs. “And that’s why I’m not truly willing to die.”

  Her gaze shot to my hand resting on my thigh. “You’ll let them cut it off.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Only when you have to, then. Within a week.”

  I shrugged through my renewed tears. Damn things wouldn’t stop pouring from my eyes. If I kept at it, they’d surround me. Justine would find me frozen here come morning, a motionless girl encased in a salty ice block.

  Tria stalked across the bridge and stooped down to hug me. “I wish I could fix it for you. Fix everything.”

  “Me, too. I keep dreaming up ways to make this work, but sometimes, it feels hopeless. There doesn’t seem to be a way to win.”

  Leaning back, she released me. “So says the girl who randomly unraveled a bespelling with only a Level One skapti.”

  “You know that was a fluke. I’ve tried a billion times since but haven’t been able to come close again.” Every time I saw Donovan, I yanked on black threads and shot them out willy-nilly, internally screaming unravel. The threads sliced through my fingers like barbed wire. “I need a Master.”

  “Then find one.”

  “You know they’re all dead.”

  “We could dig one up.”

  Startled, I tilted my head. “Grave robbing in our future?”

  She snorted, and we both smiled. While we couldn’t be completely happy, we could share this moment.

  We could pretend.

  “My fingers and toes are about to fall off.” Tria leaped to her feet and extended her hand to drag me up beside her. “Since you’re not planning to die from the Serum, you planning to freeze to death instead?” Her hand flicked toward the door. “Let’s go inside. We can go to the mini-mall. Get an ice cream.”

  “What about grave robbing?”

  “Too cold. The ground’s frozen.”

  I followed her toward the entrance. “You really weren’t suggesting we dig up a dead Unraveler, are you?”

  “If you want to succeed in life, you have to get creative. Since the ground’s frozen, we’ll raid a mausoleum instead.”

  “Cloven told me the last Unraveler died during his mother’s lifetime. There won’t be much left even in a mausoleum.” Just dust and bits of skin and bone.

  “That what he said?” Reaching forward, she pulled open the door and nudged her chin forward.

  Inside, we stomped our boots on the rug.

  “Even if we found an Unraveler’s grave, what are the odds we’d be able to raise them or they’d be willing to teach me?” I said, tugging off my hat. My hair caught static and floated around my face.

  “Any better idea?”

  I huffed. “Nope.” Was raising the dead even possible? I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out.

  “Think out of the square.”

  “That’s what Cloven always says.”

  She tapped her temple. “Two minds that think alike.” Tipping her head to the left, she said, “Come on. Ice cream awaits.”

  “If you’re cold,” I said. “Why do you want to eat ice cream?”

  She grinned. “We’re talking hot fudge drizzling down a mountain of sweet white stuff.”

  “Good point.” My belly rumbled, telling me that despite my looming death, it would welcome the treat. I really should go to class. I peered toward our right, where the classrooms waited, studiously avoiding looking forward. In that direction, the stairwell waited to take me to the roof. But I couldn’t—wouldn’t—go there until I could share the space again with Donovan.

  We strode down the hall, passing the teachers’ offices. The mini-mall came next. It wasn’t much, just a few stores, but we could pick up most of what we needed in between trips to the larger mall in Grathe.

  After paying for our ice cream we ditched our coats, hats, and mittens on a spare chair and sat across from each other at one of the round empty tables set up in the indoor patio. Other than a few kids studying or eating, almost everyone must be in class. It felt weird to play hooky.

  Tria dug her spoon into her hot fudge sundae covered with rainbow sprinkles.

  Crushed peanuts peppered mine like tiny boulders on a chocolate mountain.

  “Tell me about Minerva,” Tria said. “You mentioned her name when you woke up.” She watched as she glided her spoon down her chocolate hillside. Sprinkles slithered behind the spoon like colorful skiers.

  “Not much to tell.” I’d begun to suspect it had been a dream.

  “You spoke with her ghost. What did she say?” Her gaze darted up then shot back to her ice cream.

  In my bowl, a cherry rested on top of the whipped cream cloud. It slid down and plopped into the chocolate moat surrounding my ice cream. With my spoon, I teased the cherry, floating it like a boat across the chocolate. “There must be tens of thousands Minervas in the world. Especially dead ones.”

  Tria shoved a big bite into her mouth and closed her eyes. “Damn, that’s good.” Her eyes opened, meeting mine. “There’s only one Minerva who was banished by the Sídhe.”

  “Hold on.” My spoon slipped from my fingers and clattered on the table beside my sundae. “You’re talking about the sixth family. The Minerva.”

  “Yup.”

  “But…you should freeze and be unable to tell me more. Everyone’s bespelled to keep them from sharing even one tiny detail about the sixth.” Which had been a major source of irritation for me since the day I arrived at the Academy. After learning about the banished family, I’d asked around, researched in the library, and even begged a teacher but, other than the book I’d found with only enough details to tease, I hadn’t been able to learn a thing.

  “Not everyone’s completely locked down,” she said.

  “Is it a Seeker thing?” As far as I knew, every Seeker worked with the Council, the governing body of the Sídhe. They’d be privy to information not available to the general public.

  “Sort of.”

  “What does that
mean?”

  “I…I can’t tell you. Just know that I’m able to speak to you about this but not able to tell you everything.”

  “Then how do you know about Minerva?”

  “It’s a family secret.”

  “You’re full of secrets.”

  She winced. “I’m sharing what I can. Sorry.”

  Picking up my spoon, I plunged the tip into my melted ice cream and lifted a big bite. “You know I won’t tell anyone.” The creamy, icy, chocolatey yum slid down my throat.

  “Can’t say anything more.”

  I huffed out a breath. “What can you say, then?”

  “I can tell you that Minerva was Cloven’s mother.”

  Stunned, I dropped my spoon. It smacked on the table and bailed over the edge, onto the floor. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Cloven’s the child Minerva was pregnant with when she was banished?”

  “Yup.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “Because…” Leaning forward, Tria lowered her voice, but who would hear? We were basically alone here. “Because he’s my grandfather.”

  Chapter 8

  “You…” I blinked fast, unable to believe what I’d heard. She was Cloven’s granddaughter? “You’re a descendant of the sixth family!”

  She grinned. “In the flesh.”

  “Who was your father, Blaine or Bastian?”

  “Where did you hear those names?” she barked. For a minute, I thought she’d jump from her seat, race around the table, and shake me. “Tell me.”

  Blinking, I pressed myself back against the cast iron chair. “Cloven told me.”

  Her chest deflated, and she lowered her spoon carefully onto the table. “I thought…”

  “What?”

  She shrugged. “That you might know more about my father. But I imagine you don’t know any more than I do.”

  I did know some details about Bastian. And Blaine. Should I share them with her?

  “He said his sons died twenty years ago,” I said. “You’re eighteen. You can’t exist.”

  “Do I look like a figment of your imagination?”

  “You’re asking this of someone who says she talked to a ghost?”

  “A lot of people talk to ghosts.”

  “Not me.” Well, not until recently. Although, Professor Grim might count.

  Snapping my good hand out, I pinched a wedge of skin on her arm.

  She yelped and hauled her arm away from me, rubbing the sting. “What are you doing?”

  “Making sure you’re not dead.”

  Her eyes rolled. “That’s not how you tell.”

  I cocked my head. “How do you tell? Other than the usual way of checking for a pulse, and breathing.” I waved at her arm. “Pinching the skin.”

  “Maybe just ask?”

  “Nothing here is what it seems. A ghost could say they’re not one and someone who’s not a ghost could say they are. It’s not like I’d be able to tell.”

  “Everyone can tell the difference.” She frowned. “Well, Elites can tell.”

  Thanks. Remind me that while I probably was part of the club due to my relationship to Alys, I still wasn’t truly part of the club.

  “Must be an outling thing,” she said.

  “I guess?” Looked like I still had a lot to learn about the fae and Elite world. And I was a part of it. I still couldn’t believe it. At this point, I wasn’t sure I wanted to claim the status, either. I’d started to enjoy being different.

  Being an outling.

  “Why hasn’t he told us you’re his granddaughter?” I asked.

  “Because he doesn’t know about me.”

  “Are you going to tell him?”

  “Maybe? I haven’t decided.”

  Done with my ice cream, I shoved it away. “You transferred here to meet him, didn’t you?”

  She nodded. “That’s why I was jealous when I saw you knew so much about him.”

  “You were?” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. No one had ever been jealous of me before yet within the span of a few hours, both Alys and Tria had said they envied me. “I assume.” Cough. “You feel better about things now?”

  She grinned. “We’re friends. And I’ve had my chance to talk with him, hang out with him. It’s been awesome getting to know him. He’s the best isn’t he?”

  Now it was my turn to feel envy. Cloven was awesome. I’d never had grandparents since my mom had grown up in foster care. Mom’s foster parents were older and had died.

  “Tell him who you are. I bet he’d be thrilled to hear he has a granddaughter. Especially since his sons are…you know. Gone.”

  “Maybe.” She carefully licked chocolate off her spoon. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “This is why you were evasive when Cloven asked you about your father.” I fidgeted with my napkin. “Your Mom and Bastian…”

  “My birth dad and my mom were only together a short time. They didn’t even get married. He took off shortly after I was born, and then she met my stepdad. He’s the best, the only dad I know.” She leaned forward, bracing her arms on the table. “You’ll keep my secret, won’t you? As I said, I’m not ready to tell Cloven yet.”

  “I won’t say a thing to anyone.” Who would I tell other than Cloven? Besides, it wasn’t my information to share. “I…” I took a deep breath. “I’ve got a secret, too.” I’d wanted to tell her already, hoping she’d want to go with me the next time I returned. She might have some ideas for getting into that chest. And now that I knew Minerva was her great-grandmother, it only seemed fair to share this with her.

  “What is it?”

  My hushed whisper rushed out of me. “I found a room underneath the Academy.”

  “A basement? I didn’t know there was one.”

  “I don’t think there is. Just this room. It’s only accessible through the moat.”

  She grimaced. “Which is yucky water.”

  I chuckled. “It’s beyond gross.”

  “I’m surprised Sirra let you paddle around, let alone explore.”

  “I fell in.”

  “There’s a story there,” she said.

  “For sure.”

  “Why didn’t she drown you, since you’re an outling?”

  Not any longer if Alys and I shared the same father. Another secret I was eager to spill but wouldn’t. I wasn’t sure I’d ever tell anyone about Alys, not when I was confident she’d kill me if she found out. “Sirra warmed up to me once I stabbed her.”

  “Whoa, stabbed?” Her eyes widened. “And yet you were just hanging out on the bridge, within her reach.”

  “We talked. Came to an understanding.”

  She frowned. “Back to the room underneath the Academy.”

  “I found evidence that Minerva lived there after she was banished.” Turning so my back faced a few kids sitting nearby, who seemed to be paying more attention to their ice cream than us, I leaned close to Tria. “There’s a water-damaged journal. I wasn’t able to read much, just enough to suspect it belonged to Minerva.”

  “My great-grandmother’s journal. Wow. I want to read it.”

  “It’s a mess but you’re welcome to try.” She might get more out of it than I had.

  Tria’s gaze trained behind me, and I turned. Ashton and Vik strolled into the courtyard and went up to the counter to get ice cream. Though almost all of the tables were empty, they took the one next to ours. Figures.

  “We’re talking here,” I said.

  “And we’re talking here,” Ashton said with a sneer. “Move if you don’t like it.”

  I rolled my eyes at Tria and we got up and took our ice cream to a table as far away from Vik and Ashton as possible while still remaining in the courtyard.

  Vik hooted. The guys got up and strolled over to the table next to ours and sat.

  Tria shook her head and lifted her voice. “Move,” she hissed out.

  Ashton stood, his eyes glazing. But when he st
arted to lift his ice cream, Vik smacked his arm.

  Ashton’s face cleared and he whirled on us, glaring. “What did you just do?”

  Tria held up her hands, her face plastered with innocence. “What do you mean? I’m just eating with a friend.”

  “You warded me or something like that.” His chest puffed. “That’s forbidden. Using magic on fellow students could get you expelled. As a prefect, it’s my duty to tell the Headmistress.”

  We’d been warned about not using magic on each other during Orientation.

  “That didn’t stop you from stealing nightlace and setting the dead strands up to attack me,” I said.

  He sneered. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Roark would back me up.” Maybe. The Seeker hadn’t exactly warmed up to me but he had taken the nightlace investigation seriously enough to send agents to patrol the grounds.

  “What you going to do?” Vik asked in a sing-song voice. “Squeal?”

  Probably not but I wouldn’t tell them that. “Behave, and I won’t have to.”

  Ashton’s hand lifted and he pointed at Tria. “I’m watching you.”

  “Doubt you’re able to pay enough attention to catch me doing anything,” she said. She stuffed a bite of ice cream into her mouth.

  He stiffened. “I’m a prefect. You have to do what I say.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.”

  “Maybe we should ask the Headmistress?”

  Color rose in Ashton’s face. “We don’t need to involve her.”

  “Why not? I could ping her. See if she has time to flit here for a quick chat.”

  “Dare you.”

  Tria rose and her voice deepened. “Just try me.” She flicked her hand in his direction and said, “Sit down and finish your ice cream.” Her glare took in Vik. “You, too.”

  Limping, Ashton dropped into his seat. He and Vik shoveled in their sundaes like robots, barely savoring each bite before chasing it with another.

  “Can you teach me that trick?” I asked her. “You did it before, in the cafeteria. With just a few words, you sent Ashton away.”

  “He was right. It’s a ward.”

  I’d wondered about wards. They hadn’t been on our curriculum. Were they taught in Second year? “Can anyone learn how to create them?”