by Brea Viragh
But my tentative quiet came to an end soon enough. Turning the corner toward my bunk, I stopped short.
The drawers built into the wall where we stored our clothes were thrown open. Only mine. My mattress had been tossed down and feathers and springs littered the floor where someone had taken a knife and slit open the fabric.
I dropped my books and bolted forward. “No!”
My clothes had been rummaged through, my intimate belongings spread around for anyone to see. I climbed the ladder to see if anything had been left. Nothing.
Which meant—
My vials.
I dropped to the floor and flung through the ruined remains of the mattress, searching for the box.
“No, no.”
My heart began to race and I tasted copper in my mouth. I finally found the box lying on its side amidst a pile of broken glass.
This couldn’t be happening. Who would do something like this?
I’d been targeted.
My stomach dropped to the floor. I followed it, slicing my finger open searching for the last two vials and blood dripped down onto the wood. The only two vials I had left. They couldn’t be broken. If they were, then I’d lost everything.
21
Two vials. All I had left to make it through until winter break and the end of the semester when I could see Barbara again and sign the rest of my soul away on another unnamed favor.
I groaned, dropping my head down in my hands amidst the chaos.
Someone had deliberately destroyed all but two of my potions. Who? And how did they know where to find them?
The idea of going back to my uncle and a life as Kendrick Grimaldi’s bitch had me so scared I lost my breath. I couldn’t draw air into my body.
Why did I have the worst luck with these things? Two vials for a whole month, which would be stretching it. Then I’d have to make the trek back to see the witch and sign the rest of my life away on whatever unnamed favor she’d demand from me.
Before anyone had a chance to come into the dorm and see the mess, I searched for a broom to clean up the broken glass, shuddering at the thought of having to pledge more debt to Barbara the bitch witch.
I didn’t have a choice. I was so close to being safe—I couldn’t lose my courage now.
It took me a good half hour to clean up the mess and put everything back to rights. I grabbed a new set of sheets from the laundry room, making up the mattress in a way that didn’t show the exposed patches where the knife had ripped the fabric open. No way I could explain the damage to the higher-ups.
Besides, no one else needed to be involved in my mess.
I’d do whatever I had to do in order to stay. And no matter who tried to cut me down—whoever had broken into my dorm and tossed my things—would have to deal with me. I wasn’t about to lose now, not after having come so far.
Friday, a few days before Thanksgiving, the first-years assembled in the auditorium once again for the second round of purging, although the staff thought to brighten up the culling process by calling it a lottery. A lottery made the students think they were winning their place here instead of clawing it out through hard work and natural aptitude.
I wasn’t fooled. Neither were the girls around me, although I also wasn’t as nervous as I had been the first time around. Book work might not be my forte, and I surely didn’t have a natural aptitude for divination, but I’d done well in my other classes. Well enough I wasn’t too worried about making it through to next semester.
Okay, sure, I hadn’t made any friends besides Melia, and she’d already survived her first semester lottery, which left me on my own. But otherwise, I’d fallen into a comfortable groove and almost forgot about the dead students.
Almost.
The upperclassmen were required to attend the assembly as a show of moral support but they sat in a separate area of the auditorium. An audience to our mortification if we didn’t make it through. Or maybe an example of what we had to look forward to once the lottery ended.
I chose an empty seat near the back row just as Headmaster Leaves cleared his throat, already standing at the podium. The lottery began the same way as every other assembly held at the school, with his magically amplified voice echoing across the space.
“Welcome, students.” Insert fake smile here. “Thank you for joining us here today for our first-year lottery! This is our last major purge before winter break, and I know you are all anxious to get through it and hear the results of the rankings. There have been a few updates since fall break and your last examinations, and firstly I want to congratulate those of you who made it through.” His phony smile grew wider and fuller. “There have been many unexpected stressors this year and you have handled them with decorum and ease. I am very proud of you all.”
He gripped the sides of the podium, pointed ears poking through his artfully slicked-back hair. He looked like a political candidate who needed to win our votes to make it through to the election and he’d do whatever it took to win. I rolled my eyes at his phony enthusiasm.
“The full updated list will be posted outside the door by the end of the assembly today. Of course, I have spoken to our staff and after many agonizing hours, we came to the order and ranking you will soon see. Now on to our top five students! I must say, I have never been prouder of a first-year class. At number five, we have Persephone Glaski. Everyone please give her a round of applause.”
I watched Persephone stand from the third row, demurely nodding her head toward her adoring public. She’d risen higher. Expectedly so, if one listened to the way she boasted.
“Number four is our very own Chase Timmons.”
We paused for the perfunctory applause and I leaned forward in my seat, anxious to hear the last few names. The ones with the targets potentially painted on their backs should the killer strike again.
“At number three, we have Cain Andrews. At number two, Aurelia Rose. And at number one, a big round of applause to our dark horse, Tavi Alderidge. I’m sure no one expected this twist!” Leaves finished the exclamation with a wink and a laugh.
If I’d been in my right mind, I might have been insulted, but I didn’t hear a thing through the roaring in my ears.
Applause broke out around me and I sat frozen, my neighbors clapping me on the shoulder in congratulations.
“What…? How…?”
I remember mouthing the words, but no sound came out. I stared at the stage and the headmaster, his gaze unerringly finding me through the crowd.
Me…number one. Number one?
No, absolutely not. It wasn’t possible.
At some point Melia found me in the midst of the jabbering crowd, grabbing me in a hug and swinging me around in a circle. “I am so proud of you!” she gushed. “I knew you could do it. How did you manage to turn things around? What kind of secrets are you hiding from me? Girl, yes! You’re moving on to the next semester! Those late-night study sessions must be the ticket.”
I didn’t know what to tell her because I didn’t have any secrets. Not those kinds. Not the kinds she wanted to hear.
I should have failed divination after refusing to do the crystal ball lesson. Professor Marsh had made it painfully clear every time I walked into the classroom. She was disappointed in me.
So how the hell had I managed to reach the top spot in spite of it?
Someone must have rigged the lottery to show my name first. I didn’t know how and I surely didn’t know why, but that had to be the case.
Despite Melia’s protests, I rushed off after the assembly and sought out my divination teacher. She and I needed to have some words. The door was open and I pushed through it without pausing to knock.
“Hello?” I called out.
“Come on in.”
The muffled response came from the back of the room and I shuffled inside. “Professor Marsh, where are you?”
“Tavi, is that you?”
I followed the sound of her voice into a small office I’d never noticed befor
e. Marsh sat behind an oddly neat desk with her fingers flying over the keyboard of a sleek and compact laptop. She glanced up when I entered, those silvery-green eyes without their normal black kohl liner. It didn’t make them any less odd.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the assembly?” she asked with the quirk of a brow. Then returned her attention to the screen. “Did you get out early? How did the lottery proceed? I assume you are here because you have some kind of question on your final grade.”
I took a seat when my legs felt too shaky to hold me up. My heart threatened to beat right out of my chest and the sound of my pulse echoing in my ears resembled the crashing of ocean waves. “I’m number one,” I said, coming right out with it, my words barely above a whisper.
Marsh jerked her head up to stare at me unblinking. “Come again?”
“Number one. On the list.” My tongue felt swollen to three times its size. “I somehow managed to get the highest spot of my class and I don’t know how. Or why.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” she began slowly, “it seems like something you should be celebrating. Making it through the lottery is a great delight. And occupying the number one slot is an amazing feat. You should be proud of yourself.”
“There’s no way I can be number one,” I insisted. My skin had broken out in a cold sweat. “I didn’t finish your crystal ball lesson. You told me it would impact my grade and I was ready to take the risk. There’s no way I can be number one after failing the lesson. It’s not possible. Especially not when I’ve been in the middle of the road with all my other classes as well.”
Marsh clicked her nails together in thought, lips pursed. “I admit I did give you high marks for the class despite your failing with the crystal ball and making an absolute fool of yourself with your ridiculous excuse.” The woman sounded amused but oddly pleased with me.
“Why did you place me so high?” I needed to know because it didn’t make sense to me. I saw no reason why Professor Marsh would want to push me through to next semester. I was an average student on my best day. Then I remembered how long she’d stared at me on my first day. How she’d felt like home. Felt like pack.
I leaned back in the chair. Did my reaction have something to do with her reasoning?
We hadn’t really spoken much since the day when I’d lied about my quartz allergy. Marsh hadn’t pushed. But she’d continued to sigh with audible disappointment whenever she came over to chat with our table.
Her fingers paused on the keyboard and she sighed yet again, closing the lid. “You want the truth, Tavi? You’re one of the brightest students I have come across in my many years of teaching,” she told me. Then scowled at my sound of derision, which of course ended on a snort. “No, don’t make light of my statement. You may not believe this about yourself but I’m telling you the truth.”
It sounded insincere to me.
“Miss Alderidge, I didn’t want you to fail my class because you have some kind of problem with quartz crystal you won’t tell me about.” Marsh avoided my gaze now, staring out the window instead.
“So, you passed me through because you like me?” It didn’t sound right when I voiced it out loud.
She shook her head, her straight hair catching the light and illuminating the strands of red. “No, I passed you because I think you have what it takes to go all the way,” she corrected. “I rely on my intuition every day of my life. It impacts everything I do. I have a sense you will gain your place in Faerie. It would be wrong to fail you, to go against my own intuition in a way that seems unjustified.”
“I didn’t think professors were allowed to play favorites.”
“You think I’m playing favorites? I’m sorry if you think so. I don’t believe in playing favorites, unlike some of the other professors here.”
I stored the last bit of information away for later, although it still didn’t answer my question. Something smelled fishy about this conversation and I wasn’t done getting to the bottom of it. Intuition, eh? It made sense, but it also didn’t feel like the whole story.
We finished our chat and I left her office feeling torn. Did I really earn my spot or had Marsh done something to get me the top spot on purpose?
I didn’t want the top spot. Not in the least. Not when the last two front runners of my class had been murdered.
22
I shook my head at the name changes posted on the doors to the cafeteria until TAVI ALDERIDGE reached the top slot, literally glowing with magic and marking me as a target. Dread settled beneath my chest in a tight knot no amount of massaging could loosen.
“I can’t believe you did it. Is it wrong to take credit? My guidance is what got you this honor, this prestige. You can thank me now, and thank me again later.”
I knew Melia was joking as we stood watching the rest of the list change to reflect the new stats, including the deletion of several of my classmates. And there I was, my name shining from the top, and I couldn’t be less thrilled.
If anything, I wanted to throw up. But I didn’t think anyone would take kindly to me emptying my stomach right there in the hallway.
“You can take the credit if you want,” I told Melia with a grin. “I don’t mind.” She was probably the only reason I stayed sane in this place. She deserved the credit.
Melia leaned her head on my shoulder and her curls tickled my nose. She groaned, a happy sound. “I can’t tell you how proud I am of you. Seeing your name at the top of this list is my crowning achievement for this year.”
I wrapped my arms around her automatically and closed the distance between us. “I couldn’t have done it without you. And Mike. You two were and are so supportive of me.”
But I kept my suspicions to myself, drew any and all worry into a dark corner of my mind and stashed it away to examine later when I was alone. I didn’t want to worry Melia if we were right with our theory about the top students being murdered.
“I’m still shocked you and Michael are friends,” she said with more than a little incredulity. “Have I told you lately?
“We are friends,” I corrected her. “The four of us. I will never forget our heated lunch debates. Maybe one of these days when we aren’t stressed, we can get together and do something for fun.”
“Yeah, the four of us…lunch debates! I’m shocked about that, too. The Crown Prince of Faerie wants to sit and talk to me at lunch. Me!” Her laugh was disbelieving.
We moved away from the list when more students crowded closer for a second look. I tried to ignore the congratulations I still heard in my wake without seeming ungrateful for the sentiments. But it wasn’t right. It didn’t feel honest.
“What do you think about Mike and the royal family?” I asked, remembering what Persephone had told me. “I mean your real opinion of them.”
“What do I think?” Melia repeated. She shrugged the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder. “Well, I like Mike. Never thought I’d meet him, girl, let me tell you. But I like him. He’s genuine and he seems to have a good head on his shoulders. He’s more down to earth than I would have thought after seeing his pictures.”
We fell in step together, away from the crowd of students. “Why do I sense a but coming on?”
“You are not going to repeat this to anyone. Understand?”
I crossed my heart with my index finger. “Yes. I understand.”
She dropped her voice low to prevent being overheard, turning the corner toward the library in order to avoid the main hallways with all the mirrors. She thought it was just a quirk of mine, the way I avoided mirrors. I hadn’t told her about the real reason and didn’t plan on it.
“Something about the king has never set right with me,” she whispered confidentially. “From everything I’ve heard, he’s a bit of a mystery, and I don’t like secrets in a leader. He’s also been in power for a long time. Longer than any other monarch in the history of Faerie.”
“Wow. How old is he?” I wanted to know.
“No one seems to have an
y idea! Our kind are long-lived, of course, but his reign has outlasted all who’ve come before him. He’s managed to squash any kind of rising threat without casualties to his family or court. I don’t know, girl…I kind of feel like maybe his long reign has warped his mind. I haven’t met him, okay? But I get this odd sensation when I think about him or hear his voice. Something I can’t shake telling me to look deeper. Then I get nervous and switch off entirely. I try to change my thoughts around.”
I started and tried not to let Melia see my reaction. “If what you say is true, then it’s a scary thought.”
“I mean, this is just me sharing my opinion with you. It does seem scary. And his wife is almost never seen in public. It’s like the king hides her away, ashamed of her or something, I don’t know. Now you understand why it really took me by surprise to see Michael here. I think it’s great how he’s learning about his people and really becoming immersed in the experience. It shows he cares. And that’s a good thing, don’t get me wrong. But something smells off about the whole situation.”
I stared at her, the way lines of intense concentration formed on her brow, the set of her chin. “Why haven’t you told me this before?”
“Because it makes me sound like a crazy person!” Her hands went wild around the side of her head. “Would you believe me if we had just met and I came out and told you there was something wrong with the monarchy? Heck no, people don’t say those kinds of things. If anyone overheard me, I’d be interrogated. Or worse.”
I tried to shrug off the slight chill. This was the second time I’d heard about how things with the royal family weren’t quite how they appeared. But it wasn’t my place to question it. I had enough to worry about in the present without thinking how the monarchy of Faerie would impact me once I got there. I needed to keep my gaze focused on getting through the Fae Academy. Once I was safe, then and only then could I let my imagination run free.
We stopped outside of the library, the press of students slowing down to a trickle on this end of the castle. Not many people would choose to spend their afternoon among the dusty tomes. No wonder I liked it here.