“You okay, buggy friend?” I asked, suddenly worried about him. He’d been a constant in my life since I arrived at the Academy. Sure, he’d also been a source of irritation on occasion, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love him. “Are you sick?”
His wings flicked upward, and he lifted off the rock before settling back down again. “Not at all. I’m healthy as a horse.” He chuckled. “Or, in my case, a dragon.”
“Okay.” Lifting a stick, I poked at the snow with it. “As for Donovan, I meant that his brother must be around with his Bespeller if he was called back.”
“Yup-yup.”
Vague. Again.
“Give me,” he said abruptly.
I blinked and rose onto my heels. Yeah, I was miserable, but there was no need to lounge around in wet snow. “Give me doesn’t make sense.”
Lifting off the rock, Alex hovered in front of me. “It will. In time.”
“Which you said is fleeting.”
“Because it is.” His tiny brow narrowed. “Never forget, Fleur.”
“Forget what?”
“Meeeee!” He zipped in close and morphed back into the dragonfly pendant I wore always.
Cupping my fingers around it, I rose to my feet and took in the gleaming winter wonderland. When had morning arrived? The sun glared off the snow, and only a few birds braved the wind that whipped my hair into my face and scraped away my heat. Cold had sunk into my bones, making them brittle. If I wasn’t careful, I’d break just by walking.
Alex had always been vague, but this interaction topped them all. Sighing, I turned and trudged through the snow, back to where Capria had led me before I bailed on her and sat in the snow. Might as well discover what she wanted me to see. I squeezed through the gap in the stone and entered the cave with the pedestal again.
Pedestals had played a big role in my Academy life already. The one in this cave reminded me of the three from Stone Selection, when I’d picked my moonstone. While each stone I could select had appeared identical, I’d had three choices. One stone would’ve given me a different life, one where Patty was my sister. I would’ve had a family who loved me, unlike my mom who’d probably already forgotten I’d existed. A second stone would’ve given me a different life with my mom, one where she accepted my magical abilities. She would’ve been proud of me, something I’d ached for since I was little.
The third pedestal had presented an unknown, and I’d picked it, choosing to guide my own future rather than living in a stranger’s past.
What did the solitary pedestal in this cave offer?
Capria whined when she saw me. She scampered over and around behind me to nudge my back.
I stumbled forward and couldn’t keep the smile from my face. She always had enjoyed playing.
Rushing back to the pedestal, she butted her middle head gently against it.
Come here, she essentially said.
Yeah, I wasn’t that clueless. I tiptoed over, not sure why I felt I shouldn’t betray my presence. She knew I was here. She’d invited me.
I couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes watching me.
Peering around, I took in the dead vines, their leaves dry husks littering the stone floor. Water slithered down the wall and edged across the frozen blue-white opalescent surface. Shadows chased across the ceiling, generated by the dim lights emitted from the pool as if someone had sunk solar lamps below the surface.
Grumbling, Capria whined again, this time lower and deeper.
Okay, so I was taking my time when she must want me to hurry.
I approached the pedestal, my heart thumping like a drum in my throat.
Something gleamed in the stone bowl that had been sculpted into the top, and I leaned over. My gasp slipped out, echoing around me like a thousand startled ghosts.
Stones of every color, completely round, had been mounded in the bowl like a kid had abandoned handfuls of pastel marbles.
Were these cupla stones?
Obtaining one couldn’t be that simple, could it?
I didn’t dare touch. They felt sacred, on display in this haunted yet beautiful room. I rested my hands on either side of the bowl as if I cupped treasure.
“Are these cupla stones?” I asked Capria, and she nodded.
I could take one. There had to be forty or fifty in the bowl. The parent wouldn’t miss one with so many.
My fingers reached toward the stones, but I stopped without touching.
This couldn’t be a trick. Capria wouldn’t do something like that, but…
I snapped my hand back and dropped it to my side.
“I’m not going to do it,” I said, and my voice shot around the room then plunged back at me. “They’re not mine. They belong to the Cerberuses who died. I can’t take even one to save myself.” I couldn’t imagine the devastation I’d feel if someone stomped into my life and stealing my dreams. It would be wrong. And while I’d made plenty of mistakes since I came to the Academy, I wouldn’t make one here.
Stepping backward, I jumped when the room filled with light as if someone had hit a switch. Equally spaced cave openings were illuminated along the side walls. How had I missed them when I crept across the room?
Doors in the black ovals swung away, into dark corridors behind, and Capria’s siblings lumbered slowly into the room, one from each doorway.
Capria, after a nod my way, backed until she stood in front of one of the doorways, her body tiny compared to the huge, gaping hole behind her.
Shivers sped across my skin. What was happening?
“Why didn’t you take one?” someone asked, and my breath was choked off in my throat. “Capria offered.”
I spun.
The Cerberus parent stood inside the largest of the openings. Three sets of eyes watching me like a hawk sighting in on prey. “Tell us.”
“They’re not mine,” I said, splaying my hands wide, a sense of righteousness burning inside me. “You told me the stones contain a Cerberus’s dreams. I won’t steal anyone’s dreams.”
“Wise choice, child,” Grugeon said without a single tear in his eyes.
“So few pass the test,” Grottin added, nodding to the others. “I told you Fleur was different.”
“It’s always hard to know.” Gunner dipped his head. “Which is why so few stones make their way into the world.”
“You thought I’d take one,” I said, defensiveness rising inside me like a tide. Were they always disappointed by wizards?
“All others have,” Gunner said.
“What happens to those who try?” I asked.
“Best not to mention that, don’t you think?” Grugeon said with a sharp gleam in his eyes.
“What now?” I asked, glancing around. Capria watched me as intently as her parent.
My shy friend held depths I hadn’t suspected.
“Because you didn’t take one when you could’ve, we give you permission,” Grottin said. His heads swept toward the pedestal. “Go ahead. Choose a stone.”
“But pick wisely!” Grugeon said. “Each is more precious than the last and they all contain the final spark of a Cerberus.”
“You mean a piece of their soul?” I gaped in horror at the pretty stones. Yes, I’d be honored to take one, but I hated giving it to Katya. “The stone isn’t for me.”
“You said you need it to heal your hand,” Grugeon said.
“It’s a trade. Katya wants a cupla stone and in exchange she’ll remove the Serum from my hand and heal the rot.”
“Then it is for you, is it not?” Grottin said.
“These seem too pure, too special to give to Katya. What if she does something horrible with it? Everyone says they contain special powers.” She could corrupt it.
“They do, but only someone equally pure of heart can harness the magic. Never fear about what Katya might do. She’ll spend endless lifetimes trying to unlock the stone, without success.”
That made me feel better.
But still, I hesitated, my hand stretched ou
t over the pedestal. “Are you sure?”
“Don’t try our patience,” Gunner grumbled. “I’m sleepy. I want to go back to bed.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”
I reached into the bowl and chose a stone.
Chapter 34
Later that night, after stuffing myself with piping hot, ketchup-doused mac ’n cheese—courtesy of Moira's plenty bowl—I snuggled under Patty's blanket, toasty warm in the little camp I’d created on smooth ground beneath a wide fir tree.
With less than twenty-four hours until my hand passed the point of no return, I was no closer to locating a dragon bone than I'd been when I left the Academy.
In some ways, it felt like fate.
Alex's vague suggestion kept haunting me, but if he thought I'd snip off one of his legs or a wing to offer Katya, he had another think coming.
I rubbed the stone on my ring, and Minerva appeared.
“Ah, I was wondering when I'd see my apprentice again.” She glanced around, taking in the densely-wooded surroundings, the bright moon overhead, and the three Cerberus pups pressed against me, their snores echoing in the air. Their parent had given in to their begging and let them have a sleepover with me, though just for tonight.
“I’ve been kinda busy,” I said.
“Not too busy. I see you’ve been tasting Levels Two and Three.” Minerva leaned her hip against a big boulder, and a proud-mama grin filled her face.
I bent forward. Brinsy snorted and lifted one of his heads before dropping it onto my lap. “How can you tell?”
“I see a rope of black woven threads fluttering nearby. Black threads don’t weave themselves, my dear, which tells me you’ve been working hard. You’ve reached a Level Three, all on your own.”
When Katya had tried to bespell me…
“But I’d barely reached Level Two,” I said. “You told me I had to wait to learn more, that you’d guide me to the next Level.” She’d also implied it might take me years to get there.
How could it be happening this fast? At this rate, I’d be a Level Five in no time. Then I could—
“Don’t get too full of yourself,” she said with a laugh. “They’re simple braids but all wizards—and newbie Unravelers—start somewhere.”
Knowing I’d taken a step in the right direction perked me up. I tossed aside Patty's blankie and nudged Brinsy’s head onto Falia’s flank then crept out from beneath the tree branches. Cold air sliced through my coat and gave me a shake, making me grab the blanket again and tuck it around my shoulders. “Can you get me to Level Four?”
“Eventually.”
“How about tonight?”
“Impatient!” She grinned. “I like that.” Her hand swept toward me. “Sit again and we'll see what we can do.”
I settled back down between the pups. Capria's back legs twitched, and she whimpered. Reaching out, I stroked her side. “You’re okay, pup. Just a dream.” Did her cupla control this one?
“Giving shines from you and benefits those you care for most,” Minerva said softly. “Why won’t you let others do the same for you?”
“If you’re talking about Donovan, I’m not letting him cut off even the tip of a finger to save my hand.”
“That’s not what I meant.” A thousand-pound weight hung in her words.
When silence stretched on so long I worried it would fill the hours until morning, I pushed out a white puff of air. It was swept up by the night, stolen in seconds. “Enough with the secrets. Tell me everything.”
“Everything? That would take the rest of your life. But how about a bit of my past?” At my eager nod, she climbed up and settled on the boulder with her feet dangling over the side. Sorta settled. A ghost, she actually hovered. “My love, my husband, the man who meant everything to me gave his life so I might live. I well understand your unwillingness to let others sacrifice for you.”
“He was framed, wasn’t he?”
Her gasp filled the small clearing. “You suspect more than you should.”
“I guessed, actually. Put a bunch of clues together and came up with a theory. Something hasn’t felt right about the sixth family’s story since the moment I heard it.”
“Why do you believe he was framed?”
“Because I can’t imagine you being with someone who’d do something like that or that Cloven’s dad could be so evil. I know my reasoning sounds silly but it’s my gut feeling.” Looking down, I stroked the frayed trim on Patty’s blanket before meeting Minerva’s eyes. “Can you tell me what really happened?”
“I’m sorry. You’ve guessed too much already. Telling you more would endanger your life. There are secrets here that must remain hidden.”
“I’m not sure you could make things worse. My life seems pretty fragile already,” I said, my lips forming a flat line. “A Bespeller is trying to kill me. I don’t know who it is.” Yet. But I had my suspicions. Soon, I’d lay a trap and catch him.
“You must be careful. You don’t realize the danger you could be in.”
“I think I do.” I lifted my chin. “This person has been after me from almost the moment I arrived at the Academy. But don’t worry. I’m not facing this alone.”
She stared at me for a long moment, her fingers cupping her mouth. “Yes, you have others who watch out for you.”
“Patty, Cloven, Donovan as much as he can. Moira and Alys. My other teachers. And Tria.”
Minerva’s smile hinted at deep pain. “Tria was my mother’s name.”
Should I tell her Tria was her great-granddaughter?
I carried many secrets myself, and I was also hesitant to share them. But I could speak to Tria about it when I got back to the Academy. She might say it was okay to tell Minerva.
“You’re not as fragile as you think, Fleur,” she said softly. “Trust your instincts.”
Was there a message there or was she just giving out advice like every other teacher?
“Be careful?” she said with concern creeping through her voice.
“I will.”
She nodded. “Since I can’t tell you more, let’s get back to your lesson. With a Bespeller after you, you’ll need to be as prepared as possible. And Level Four is the easiest to reach.”
That would be great. “How about Level Five?”
“That Level, I’m afraid, is impossible for some, a snap for others.”
Just my luck, I’d be one of the “some”.
Capria grunted and wiggled closer before falling back asleep.
“I guess I hoped each Level would be simpler,” I said softly. “Three seemed to be, since I didn’t realize I’d reached it on my own.”
“I'll see if I can get you to Level Four tonight because…” She paused as if listening, then nodded. “Because we haven’t much time.”
She must mean my hand. “After sleeping for a little while, I’m going to walk to Donovan's Aunt and Uncle’s house. His Aunt Inik might be able to help me.” The only other alternative was to hike back to the Academy and let the healers cut my hand off.
I was still determined to try to locate a dragon bone. One from a long-dead dragon.
“That’s a wise plan. I approve.” She clapped her hands. “Okay. To reach Level Four, you’ll need to pull in different threads.”
“Not black?” So, this was confusing. “I thought black threads were the only ones an Unraveler could use.”
“This is correct and incorrect.”
“Okay?”
She grinned. “We pull threads from the world around us.”
“Not seeing a difference there. The threads I’ve been drawing come from around me.”
“Have you pulled from the earth itself? The trees? The rocks like this one?” She sort of smacked the boulder, though the impact made no sound.
I frowned. “I don’t think I have. The threads I’ve found have been hanging out nearby, waiting for me to snatch them up and use them.”
“Those are lower Level threads and while they’re simple to dr
aw, they’re weaker than those from the environment. To obtain full power and achieve a Level Four skapti, you’ll need to work harder.”
It seemed I’d been working hard already. “All right. What do I do? Somehow locate or differentiate them from regular black threads and then demand they come to me?”
“These strands will need to be extracted.”
Oh. That sounded tough. “I thought you said this was the easy Level.”
“Relative, my dear. This Level is simpler to achieve than Level Five.”
One thing at a time. While I was eager to get there now, I was also fascinated by the process. “How do I extract them?”
“For your first attempt, it might help to close your eyes. With practice, you’ll get good at tapping the energy inherent in the trees, rocks, and soil and turning it into black threads of power. One day, you’ll find you can make them as easily as reheating your cocoa with a simple thought. And with your eyes wide open.”
“Can you teach me how to do it?”
“Of course.” She flicked her hands toward me. “Close your eyes.”
I blocked out the world around me and focused solely on the soft breathing of the Cerberus pups snuggling close.
“Stretch your mind out,” Minerva said softly. “Environmental threads are more challenging to find but once exposed, they’ll do as you wish. Picture the trees around you, the sky mottled with stars, the moon. The endless earth beneath you.”
When I blocked out the rustling of small creatures in the woods, bare branches clicking together, and the pup’s breathing, I could almost sense a hum, like the buzz I’d heard once when I stood near high voltage during a school trip. The sensation made the tiny hairs on my skin stand at attention. “I feel it all. But I don’t see threads.” Was I doing this wrong? She’d said this was easy. For me, it didn’t seem so.
“Picture the boulder I’m sitting on. That’s close. Can you see the gray exterior shape? The dead moss skimming across the surface?”
“Yes. And the grooves along the right side, the vines trailing across the top that are bare of leaves.”
Crystal Wing Academy- The Complete Series Page 73