Just like that, the pain from the loss of magic is in the far recess of my mind, and I feel more like myself than I have in days, since even before I ended up in this joint.
“You can think what you want, believe what you want, but know this, Trevan. I will not allow anyone to tell me what to do. I might have rules to follow, and I’ll follow them if I choose. If I decide there’s an easier way out, I’ll take it, and I’m not talking suicide, sweetheart. I’m not going to be the one to die.”
“You’ve got fire, all right. I can respect that.” He winks before turning more serious. “No wonder Pyra flocks to you, but be careful with her. She’s the youngest to ever be sent here, and she’s very easily influenced. She needs to be taken under the wing of someone who will help her, not encourage her deviant behavior.”
“Why isn’t someone already helping her?”
“That’s not the point of the prison.”
“Not the point? We aren’t meant to be rehabilitated? So, what, we’re just supposed to live out the rest of our lives here with a slim hope of a wing of a prayer that we’ll get out of here one day? Fuck that noise.”
"Most fairies who come here are too lost, too far gone into darkness. They tend to commit more crimes here, so yes, sentences can sometimes be extended indefinitely."
“And my sentence? How long is it?” I demand. “No one’s told me.”
“Only the warden knows, and he’ll tell you, but I’ll give you a warning about him too.” Trevan leans closer.
I glance around. We’re in the back corner of the cafeteria, and as far as I can tell, no one is paying us any attention. I made a point of walking to the trashcan farthest away from Rosa and her prying eyes. She’s a gossip, which is both a help and a hindrance.
Swallowing hard, I refocus on the fairy guard who is standing far too close to a prisoner than he should.
“Do not flirt with him. Don’t try to bull shit him or play games with him. He won’t buy what you’re selling, and you’ll lose years of your life to this place.” He straightens. “That’s if Spring doesn’t off you first. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why he took on the… if that’s why he’s busy. Normally, he’s the first fairy a new inmate sees when he or she is brought here.”
I swallow hard. Yes, males and females are sent to the penitentiary. So far, I haven't seen Thistle yet, and I don't want to.
The bell rings, and Trevan reverts from friend to guard. "Get in line, Bay."
“Yes, sir.”
He flashes me a grin for a split second, and I smile back. He might help me with the plan, if I can come up with one, and I find myself walking over to him because he’s already flown off.
“Trevan?”
“Yes?”
“How can I get a job in the kitchen?”
His face closes up, and he appraises me. “The last fairy who asked about getting a job here or there to try to get in the guards’ and the warden’s good graces tried and died trying to escape.”
My heart pounds. “I don’t—”
“I just thought I should warn you. No fairy has ever escaped from here, and not one has even come up with a halfway decent plan to make it out. Don’t try it, Bay. Your life is already in danger as it is.”
18
Trevan’s words haunt me. The last thing I want to hear is that my life is in danger and that any chance of escape is going to most likely result in my death. I don’t need that kind of stress on top of learning the fact that Spring wants a weapon most likely to use against me.
How exactly did my life become so fucked up? I went from doing what I want to trying to help a friend to having an abusive boyfriend to becoming addicted to blood…
Maybe that’s why being cut off from magic is hitting me so hard. Because I’m dealing with that on top of withdrawal from blood. Not that I drank a lot of blood, but still. That had been intoxicating. It’s not so much the taste, I don’t think. It’s harder to get a bead on it now that it’s impossible for me to have access to it anymore, but now that I’m not clouded by the high of drinking it, I can reflect more on why I was drawn to it. I think it was just drinking in someone else’s life force. I was drawing from their blood to tap into nature to increase my magic. It’s as simple as that.
I don’t need blood to do that. All I need is some kind of life.
Such as a spider.
Why did Spring have to steal the life from the only living organism I spied in the place? Outside of fairies, of course. I’m not about to siphon from one of the fairies. I’m not that dark. Besides, I’m not even sure I would be able to.
Nature hates me. I’m pretty sure nature has hated me for a while now.
Or maybe that’s just me being paranoid.
I’m back in my cell. Spring’s a bit subdued, and if I have to guess, she’s pouty because she didn’t get her way, and she doesn’t have a weapon to kill me. Poor baby.
Still, I watch her carefully, but she doesn’t have much to say, which suits me just fine.
Before the lights on the walls go out, she’s already asleep. Even so, it takes me a bit to settle. My attempts to reach Illumination don’t work all that well. I’m probably too anxious about Spring and her wanting to off me. Being locked up certainly doesn’t help any. I had issues with this even before the whole being sent to Dark Fae Penitentiary.
I heave a sigh as I settle, and slowly, sleep overwhelms me.
I’m in a gray space, a void almost, and then I’m dropped into the cottage I lived in during my first year at Light Fae Academy. The entire gang is all here, and we’re talking, laughing, flirting. We’re drinking, but this isn’t one of the times when Cosmo and I hooked up. We didn’t every time we drank.
Eventually, I beg off and head to the bathroom. I do my business, and I glance in the mirror. There’s a slight speck of something on my face, but I don’t know what it is.
Instead of brushing it off like a normal person, I grab a glass bottle of hair gel, smash it on the side of the sink, and go to wipe the something off with the jagged edge.
No. I want to hurt myself.
No! I don’t want to, but I feel compelled to. Almost like…
Almost like someone is trying to make me.
To influence me.
Oneirokinesis.
There’s only one person I can think of who would want me to hurt myself, and that’s Spring.
Still, even though I know someone else wants this for me, I’m finding it hard to control my dream self, to get myself to drop the glass shard. I try to open my mouth to scream, to call to the others, but nothing comes out.
My mind is fighting me. My mind is getting my body to fight me. Seriously, this is insane! I'm literally fighting with myself, but it's as if my arms and hands have a mind of their own. I can't control them, not completely, and the jagged piece of glass nears my face and then lowers back down, up and down, coming closer to my face every time.
It’s a terrifying game of cat and mouse, and I’m both the cat and the mouse. I’ve never experienced anything like this before, and it’s terrifying. If I fail, if my dream self hurts herself, will that affect my real body? I don’t know, and I don’t want to find out.
I’m petrified, and that leaves me nearly paralyzed. The jagged glass cuts into my cheek ever so slightly, and the pain from that prick is enough to jar me out of the dream.
Gasping for breath, I sit up and touch my cheek. Is it my imagination, or is my cheek wet? With blood? I try to stare at my wet fingers, but I can't see in the darkness if they're wet from a tear or from a cut.
“Spring,” I whisper harshly as I jump down from my thin mattress. “Don’t’ you dare act like you’re sleeping.”
“Wh-ha?” she asks sleepily, but I know it’s an act, and I grab her shoulder and pinch hard to force her to sit up.
“Don’t you play games with me,” I say firmly. “I know what you did.”
“I didn’t do anything but sleep. What did I do? Talk in my sleep?”
“No.
You know exactly what you did.” I poke her in the chest.
“No, I really don’t,” she says with a laugh.
I don’t need to see her face to know she’s lying. That laugh gives her away. It’s high-pitched and shrill, and I hate the sound.
“You tried to get me to hurt myself,” I fume.
“Oh, dear. Wow. I see what’s happening here. You can’t accept the fact that you aren’t perfect. You can’t accept the fact that you hurt yourself, that you cut yourself, so you’re looking for someone else to blame. I get it! It’s hard to have that fucking pedestal kicked out from under us, and yours was higher up than most. Must’ve been a bumpy ride down, huh?”
“Cut the crap, Spring,” I snap. “You got into my head, invaded my dream, and—”
“You poor thing. You’re insane and delusional. Honestly.” Spring shakes her head and marches over to the bars. She slaps on them. “Hey, night guard! Over here! I don’t feel safe with this one in here with me. Night guard! I’m talking to you!”
A few of the other fairies nearby yell at Spring to shut her mouth, but Spring just cries out all the louder for the guard to come over, and eventually, he does.
“What’s all the racket here?” he demands, shining a bright light on her.
Spring jerks her thumb toward me. “She’s going crazy, and it’s not safe for me in here.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s she doing?”
“I’m not doing anything,” I say firmly. “Spring’s the one who is infiltrating my dream, and—”
“Dream infiltration? Oneirokinesis?” The guard cracks up. “You should listen to yourself! Do you hear what you’re saying? Spring doesn’t have magic. None of the prisoners do. So you had a nightmare that your roommate tried to attack you.”
“No. She had me attack me—”
“She didn’t,” the guard says firmly. “You don’t know jack about how this prison works, do you? I know you’re the new wing, but still. Damn, girl. You don’t know a thing. How can you be so damn clueless after meeting with… You didn’t meet him, did you?”
“I fail to see how that matters,” I snap. “Now, you have to believe me. She—”
“I don’t have to believe you,” the guard snaps right back. “I don’t want to hear another word out of either of you. We’re done. You hear me? Done! You both need to go right to sleep. Stop waking up the other prisoners, and—”
“In the morning, I want to put in a formal request to have my own cell,” Spring says firmly.
“Good luck with that,” the guard says.
He chuckles and laughs to himself as he flies away. The other fairies we woke still grumble and yell at us, but soon, there’s silence.
There’s also no more sleep for me.
My body is going to start to wear down. I’m not getting enough liquid in me, not enough food, and hardly any sleep.
Maybe I am delusional. I don’t think I am, but at this point, would I be able to tell?
19
Shortly before the bell for breakfast, Spring makes a scene at the door again. She’s so loud and obnoxious that even I want to yell at her to stop, but I let her have her way. If she can convince the guards to let her have another cell, so be it. I am all for that. One hundred percent.
This time, the guard that comes over is Drake. His green eyes with the white tinged blue zero in on Spring.
“What’s the issue here?” he asks.
“I told the guard last night. I want to have my own cell.”
“Do you now?” Drake asks dryly. “And what did the other guard say?”
“He laughed,” I pipe up.
Drake smirks. “Yeah, I hate to break it to you, Spring, but that’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?” Spring whines. “I didn’t have one before Bay came. There’s no reason why she can’t—”
“Spring, we’ve been over this.”
“I just don’t see why—”
“You aren’t getting a cell to yourself.”
“But if I just make a formal request—”
Drake bursts out laughing.
Spring crosses her arms and taps her foot. “I know what you think about all the time.”
“Oh, yeah? Do you now? And just what do you think I think about all the time?” he asks with a wide smirk. His gaze flickers to me a moment.
“You think about Bay’s ass.” Spring cocks her head to the side. “Don’t deny it.”
My eyebrows lift a bit. “I do have a great ass.”
I stand, jut out my hip, and rub my ass to prove that point.
“I—” Drake starts.
But Spring just lifts her hand. “I can get into any of your heads. I’ve always been able to do that.”
“That’s impossible,” Drake states.
“You would think that, but it’s the truth.” She glances over her shoulder and smirks at me. “Think of a number, Bay.”
One comes to mind, but it's too obvious even for me, so I add one hundred to it.
“One-sixty-nine,” Spring says triumphantly.
I cough.
“You want to think of a number, Drakey?” Spring asks.
He says nothing.
Spring shrugs. “The only time I could have my thoughts and mine alone in my head was when I did fairy dust. Even here, even with being severed from nature, I can still hear them all. Nothing gets them gone. Nothing but the fairy dust.”
Drake just shakes his head. “We can do the procedure again. Come.”
“That’s not what I want,” Spring snaps. “It won’t work. I’ve had it done more than once already. Once it’s cut, it’s cut until it’s repaired, and I can’t do that. No one can.”
“Just come with me.”
“I want my own cell,” Spring snaps. “I refuse—”
“You know what happens if you refuse to listen to a guard,” he says firmly.
“Yes, yes,” Spring says impatiently. “Whatever. I’ll come, but—”
“Even if you have a cell all to yourself, you’ll still have the thoughts of others in your head, won’t you?”
Spring scowls. “Bay thinks…”
“Go ahead, Spring,” I say innocently. “Go tell Drake what I think.”
She hisses at me, and I blow her a kiss.
“Now, Spring,” Drake barks.
The cell opens, and she marches out of there. Drake leads her away.
Great. This is fantastic. Spring’s so very dark that somehow, she’s still able to use magic despite all of us having our bond to nature severed.
That spider she killed, is that how she's able to tap into minds still? I don't know, but I don't think Violet can, and that's her thing. What the fuck. I'm the one who needs to demand a new cell. I don't care if I have to be in a cell with two others. Just get me the hell away from Spring.
To say I’m unnerved by the time breakfast comes around is an understatement. I don’t want Spring to be in my head, but I mean, everyone would guess that I would’ve thought of sixty-nine, but how many others would’ve thought one hundred sixty-nine? No one unless they could read my mind.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Does this mean that she knows I want to try to bust out of here?
I so have to find a way to protect my mind from her and ASAP.
Spring never returned to the cell, but I’m sure she’ll be in the cafeteria. I keep an eye out for her, but I don’t see her by the time it’s my turn to grab a tray.
A cough has me turning around, and Drake hands me a wafer of some kind.
“What’s this?”
“Eat it. Now,” he mumbles.
With a shrug, I take a bite and nearly spit it out. “That tastes like shit.”
“Have you eaten shit before?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know it tastes like shit?”
“It’s tastes like it’s decaying in my mouth. What is it?”
“Just eat it, Bay, if you know what’s good for you.”
And the
dark redhead flies off.
Hmm.
I choke it down and then sit with Violet, Rosa, and Pyra.
My smile is geared toward the youngest fairy. “Pyra, I’m glad you’re out.”
“I’m not. I miss my fire.” She scowls. “There’s something about fire. It’s alive. It just wants to eat and survive. Is that asking too much?”
“I’m not sure.” I turn to Violet. “Hey.”
“What do you want?”
I blink. “What makes you think I want something?”
“Your tone.”
“You can’t get into anyone’s head here, right?”
“’Course not. No one can.”
“Spring can,” I mumble.
“No way,” Rosa blurts out. “That’s insane!”
“Don’t tell anyone,” I tell Rosa firmly.
“That’s a bold claim,” Violet says. “I doubt it’s true.”
“She guessed what number I was thinking.”
“Sixty-nine,” Rosa supplies.
I narrow my eyes. “Seriously?”
“Girl, you are like a walking sex doll.”
I shrug a shoulder. “True.” I grin at her and bite my lower lip. “But no, I thought of one-sixty-nine, and she said it without any hesitation. She knew! Explain that.”
“There has to be an explanation,” Violet says with a frown.
"Yeah, there is," Pyra says. "I can feel it when I'm near a fire."
“Feel what?” I ask.
“Nature.”
“Some fairies are more attuned to certain elements like fire or minds,” Violet murmurs. “It’s possible that the way they sever our bond to magic has some measure of weakness linked to whatever is our strongest magic.”
“Try to read my mind,” Rosa says eagerly.
“I don’t read minds,” Violet says. “I control them.”
“Oh. Fuck that. Don’t try to control me.”
Violet bursts out laughing. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to risk trying. I’ve been here for eight years already. I do that, and they’ll add another decade if not longer. I want out of here.”
“But you could convince a guard to let you out,” Pyra says.
Dark Fae Penitentiary: First Transgression Page 9