The Scary Godmother

by Vivienne Savage

  I scowled. “Some of us didn’t learn to fly from birth.”

  “Awesome. We have that in common.”

  “Smartass.”

  A balmy breeze swept in from the east. The current pushed against my back and sent me into a tumble. As the trees loomed closer, I had the terrifying image of being delivered home to my parents in pieces. A really pretty concrete angel on my grave too. Here lies Skylar. She fell.

  “Spread your wings out! Glide. You’re using too much energy.”

  Gabriel’s voice cut through my panic. When I snapped out my wings, the plummeting descent transitioned into a gentle, downward glide. A few beats brought me level again and eased my racing heart.

  “You have an advantage over me and every other bird out there, Sky. Your wings are semi-corporeal. That means you can mold them to whatever size or shape you want and mimic any kind of flying creature. You can dive like a raven, swoop like a hawk, or soar like an eagle.”

  “Dain did say I should birdwatch.”

  “You should. You can pull off all kinds of maneuvers. It’s about practice and trusting in yourself.”

  Gabriel made flying look easy. He led me deeper into Tir na Nog, though we stopped to rest in a leafy tree top that reminded me of Bilbo popping his head out of the canopy in Mirkwood, because a thousand butterflies lifted off and took flight when we disturbed it. I settled on the branches and didn’t sink through, light as air.

  “Tir na Nog is really different up here.”

  “Everything is different from above the ground, Sky.” He paused then tilted his head. “You’re a sylph, and your name is Sky. How did I not notice that until now?”

  “Pretty sure my folks didn’t plan that.”

  He laughed. “I guess everything always works out in the end. Come on. We still have a few miles to go, and I wanna teach you how to dive.”

  “Are you not going to ask me if I want to learn?”

  “Nope.”

  “Fine, but when I hit the ground and splat all over, I’m going to haunt you for the rest of your days.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first ghost to nag me.”

  “There’s a story in there somewhere.”

  “I’ll tell you another time. For now, break time is over. It’s time to dive.”

  “Can you at least try to motivate me?”

  “Your motivation is not breaking your neck and leaving me girlfriendless.”

  Damn.

  We dove, but it wasn’t as difficult as I’d made it out in my head to be. The hardest part was growing accustomed to the sensation of freefall and tucking my arms against my body to become an aerodynamic pin.

  Gabriel made me practice it until my lips were wind-chapped. By then, I realized we’d reached our destination and the tree line broke, forest yielding to miles and miles of majestic meadow. After he landed, I touched down and collapsed in the sweet clover. Laughing, he shifted forms and joined me.

  Sprawled on my back, wings still glowing and wrapped around me—around Gabriel too—we watched the pink and gold clouds drift across the azure sky. The occasional sprite darted overhead. Only one of the curious fae had bothered to venture close and investigate us.

  Gabriel raised my hand to his lips and laid gentle kisses against every knuckle. Each soft touch set off flutters in my stomach. “You did great, you know.”

  “I almost crashed, like, fifty times.”

  “But you didn’t, and you’re exaggerating. I thought fae couldn’t lie.”

  I rolled to the side and propped myself up on one elbow to look down at him. “That’s only the pureblooded ones, as you very well know. God, could you imagine growing up in the mortal world unable to fib? I’d have been busted by my parents for so many things.”

  “Heh. I can imagine.” He reached up and stroked the pendant dangling from my throat. “Speaking of truth and lies, have you had any luck asking your new faerie friends about the necklace?”

  “No. King Oberon was mum on the subject, but…”

  “What is it?”

  After I told him about the true motivation behind Provost Riordan throwing a spontaneous ball for the king, Gabriel’s mouth dropped open. “And then prism roses showed up for Pilar from a secret admirer.”

  “For real?”

  “Seriously. They’re really pretty. After everyone else went to bed, I looked it up and found out Titania grows prism roses in the gardens of Avalon Palace. So, that means it had to come from him. He sent an entire rose bush in a pot.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah. So it makes me sorta wonder if she’s, you know….”

  “Titania reborn?”

  “She could be.”

  Gabriel exhaled long and deep, the sound of a man with an enormous weight lifted off his chest. “There’s one mystery solved. Now we understand why the Heartflame turned up in your room.”

  Rolling to the side, I wiggled onto him and straddled his hips, resting both hands on his chest. “Were you still worried it was me?”

  “A little. I mean, I’d have been happy for you if you were—at least I think I would have been happy for you and not a jilted asshole. Being a Jada just isn’t my style.”

  “Well, lucky for us, you’re the mature sort, right?”

  Because deep down, I was pretty sure I’d have been devastated, and I might have had to be the first incarnation of Titania to not return to her king.

  15

  The More the Merrier

  The arrival of October ushered in cool breezes and autumn fashions. With a portion of my share from Gabriel’s wedding shoot, I accompanied Pilar out to her favorite shopping center and we stocked up on warm clothes. Liadan came along for the company, but her finances were so tight all she did was eyeball things. Pilar and I took notes behind her back and vowed to return for birthday gifts.

  Accompanying King Oberon to the ball had done wonders for her mood, but the old Pilar had come back to us with a vengeance within days of receiving roses from Titania’s garden.

  Was it another sign?

  We left Magical History together after crushing a pop quiz covering the effect of the paranormal community during World War II and stopped to fetch smoothies from the food court. Before we took our first sips, Pilar and Liadan received notice that their Divine Intervention class had been canceled for the day, freeing them both. Mrs. Robinson, the buoyant fae who taught us to make miracles, had an unexpected meeting with her charge. I’d taken her class the previous semester after Riordan kicked Monica out of school and made me Sharon’s godmother.

  On top of that, Tristal hadn’t been in for her classes that morning.

  “I have practice with Dain alone in the field, since Tristal is out sick. Do you two want to come with me?”

  “Wouldn’t we be in the way?” Liadan asked.

  “I don’t see why you would. I mean, some of the stuff I learn is for all fae, not just sylphs. You can totally eye candy him and cheer for me.”

  The two of them exchanged glances, and to my surprise, Pilar was the one who straightened her shoulders and nodded. “I’ll go. I mean, how often is someone given the chance to learn from the king’s closest guard?”

  “Exactly. What about you, Lia?”

  “I’ll be your cheerleader.” She paused a moment, before adding, “And I’ll leer at Dain behind his back. He’s gorgeous.”

  Smoothies in hand, we made our way across the leaf-strewn paths to the campus field. A solitary figure stood near the bleachers, and if it weren’t for his wings, I might have mistaken him for another student until we got closer. Dain had acquired a mortal look, trading silks and armor for jeans and a cocoa brown sweater, though his faerie nature was ruining any chance of him blending in.

  “Wow, he looks good,” Pilar muttered.

  I had to agree with her. Liadan mumbled an agreement under her breath.

  Dain waited until we closed in on him before he arched a brow, arms crossed against his chest. “Greetings to you three. I had thought we were beyond the
need for chaperones now, Lady Skylar. Honestly, I am well behaved, and I even know how to keep my hands to myself.”

  Heat flashed down my neck. “No, I, uh, just figured maybe they’d like to pick up something too. And hoped you wouldn’t mind.”

  He chuckled. “I’m only teasing, but you are cute when you blush. Anyway, knowledge is for everyone. Please, ladies, be at ease. I will happily teach all of you.”

  Damned fae and their mischief.

  “Oh no, not me,” Liadan said, clearly flustered. Pink color raced from her neck and into her face, reaching the top of her ears. “I don’t do fighting.”

  Dain bowed deeply to her. “As you desire.”

  “Thank you.”

  While Pilar and Liadan got comfortable on the bleachers, I set my bag aside and followed Dain out into the grass. He turned to face me and gestured me into the air.

  “I’m impressed with the speed of your progress. Has your flying improved since our last visit?”

  “It’s been two days.”

  “Your flight should be improving each day. In fact, from this day forward, I should like for you to fly to each class.”

  “What?”

  A grin spread across his face. “Any time you enter the courtyard, you will levitate or fly to your destination. I want you to practice using those wings until it becomes as natural as breathing.”

  “You sound like Gabriel.”

  “I may have had a word with him,” he said smugly.

  A surge of annoyance swept through me, tinged with anger on my sentinel’s behalf. “Don’t boss him around.”

  Dain studied me, his gaze so intense I had the urge to fidget. It was as if he was looking through me—into me—and reading me like a book. After a long, tense moment, he dipped his head.

  “I meant no disrespect, only that you have a remarkable sentinel who only wishes to see you succeed. He and I spoke at length during the ball.”

  “Oh…” Another hot flush worked its way up to my face. “Sorry.”

  “Water beneath the bridge. Now, let us begin.” He slanted his gaze toward Pilar, and his smile returned with a calculating edge that turned my blood cold. Oh no. “Pilar, if you would please join me.”

  While I flew laps under Dain’s instruction, he gave Pilar pointers in conjuring Faerie Fire and hurling it at me. Like Lia, she had minimal experience with offensive magic, so I ducked, dived, and swooped out of range until she clipped one of my wings, and I almost spiraled out of control.

  So much for semi-corporeal. Note to self: Faerie Fire does affect my wings!

  Over the next half hour, her aim improved fast enough for a fine sweat to bead across my brow. My hair clung to my nape, and it went from being an easy exercise to me working hard to avoid her projectiles.

  Damn. Maybe she really was Titania, because she took to it like a natural.

  “Liadan. Join us for a moment.”

  “I don’t really—”

  “Practice offensive magic, yes, I heard you before. Please join us, as I know a glamour that will benefit the three of you greatly, though it is difficult to master and at times tricky to apply.”

  Once we gathered near Dain, a subtle glow surrounded him, shimmering in every shade of the rainbow. It looked like a Prismatic Cloak, but it projected outward around him in a flawless bubble until we were also included within it. I tapped it with a fingernail.

  “It is called a Prismatic Barrier, a physical extension of your Prismatic Cloak conjured for the purpose of shielding yourself and others from physical harm. Your professor asked that I teach the three of you this glamour today—”

  “You spoke with her?” Pilar asked, her flawless brows jumping up a mile.

  My two friends were supposed to be in class. “Never mind that, how did you know all three of us were going to show up?” I demanded.

  “How do you know where to guide a mortal charge?”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling dumb.

  The corner of his mouth raised, and then he withdrew his shield from around us, dragging it back until it snapped in place around him alone. “Now, the first step of creating the barrier is to summon your Prismatic Cloak. Spread out and do your best.”

  One by one, we drew colors from the autumn afternoon, taking warmth from the narrow shafts of sunlight spilling through gold-kissed leaves and the tiny purple flowers that sometimes sprang from the manicured grass. I completed my Prismatic Cloak first, followed by Pilar then Liadan.

  “Excellent. Cordelia taught you well, though I sense she worked harder with some of you than others.”

  Pilar made a grumpy noise.

  “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Pilar,” Dain continued. “Some of us are not meant to be discreet. We are meant for flash and color and noise. Take these cloaks and expand them around you as if there were another person present to conceal beneath your glamour—no, Liadan, much smaller please.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No need to apologize. Like your friends, your power is great, though you have less experience with using it and must learn to manipulate it appropriately.”

  Under his guidance, we each managed to morph our individual cloaks into a larger shield. Dain drew a sword from the open air then thrust forward into the barrier. I felt the pressure against my mind as the manifestation of our glamours buckled against the assault. Liadan shrieked and jumped back, losing concentration. Then our spell fell apart like a house of cards, shattering around the blade on the next stroke.

  “Hm,” Dain said. “More practice is required, I see.”

  Liadan held one hand to her chest. “You didn’t warn us!”

  “Would an attacker warn you?”

  I frowned. “Why do they even have to learn this at all when they’ll have sentinels? It’s different for me. I’ll be the sentinel.”

  “Easy.” The sylph slid his blade into Neverspace and raised his blue eyes to us. They were like mirrors reflecting the serene sky above. “Your sentinel may not always be there. Worse, they may fall in the line of duty protecting you, granting you precious seconds to escape or take cover until help arrives. Do not let their sacrifice be in vain.”

  “Would a glamour like this have protected my charge?” Pilar asked in a meek voice. “Would it have shielded her in the crash?”

  Dain’s eyes softened. “Doubtful. Not in that situation, I fear. There are far too many variables when a mortal’s automobile is involved. Were one racing toward your charge as she crossed a street, and your will for her survival was strong, then yes. For that, your glamour must be absolutely impenetrable. There are also many other defensive glamours I may share, none of which are taught at your institution.”

  Pilar nodded. “Then I want to learn.”

  The little wrinkle in Liadan’s brow smoothed out. “Me too.”

  “Grand. I’d hoped you would both say that, as I have decided to grant your lovely professor a break and assume responsibility for her tutorials. We shall resume future lessons each Monday and Wednesday at a time when the three of you are all available.”

  We stared at him, but his handsome face only broke out in another wide grin.

  “Now, please, do it once more. I would like the three of you to practice this glamour alone and together, as three united with one shield are stronger than one lone fae. It is always best to be prepared for whatever fate throws at you.”

  We were all starved by the end of our group lesson with Dain. Practice had run over by nearly half an hour, but none of us wanted to cut the faerie lord off during his instruction.

  Stomach rumbling, I suppressed the urge to stop for a snack at the food court, because as my mother would put it, we had food at home. Having money in my wallet didn’t mean I had to spend it all.

  “Hey! Wait up!” Ben hustled across the courtyard to catch up to us.

  On one hand, I wanted to keep flying, because the hunger pangs were real, but I also didn’t want to blow him off. Sighing, I slowed enough for Ben to close in on us. Our out-of-shape mage
friend caught up seconds later, rosy-cheeked and a touch out of breath, because jogging more than a quarter-mile must have pushed his scholarly, asthmatic lungs to their limit.

  “What’s with the flying, Sky?”

  “Coach’s orders. I’m not allowed to walk anymore.”

  “Sweet.” He grinned and looked to the other two. “We still on for study session during lunch? I didn’t see you at the food court, so I wondered if you’d forgotten.”

  “That’s my bad, I guess. I convinced them to join me at my training with Dain, and the time got away from us.”

  “Seriously? And you didn’t invite me?”

  “You had class,” I said.

  “Oh yeah.” Ben’s face fell, but after a heartbeat of disappointment that made me feel like I’d drowned a kitten, his smile returned. “We still have time to study though, right?”

  “Only if you don’t mind eating at our place. I made risotto last night, and we have leftovers,” Liadan said.

  Ben’s eyes lit up. “I don’t mind.”

  Even Pilar chuckled at his enthusiasm. I drifted alongside my friends for the short trip to the campus townhomes, where I gratefully lowered to the ground.

  A second later, we stepped into the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. At least, it looked like the famed gardens at first glance, because we had so many plants and flowers blooming around the living room their floral scent probably permeated every inch of the townhouse.

  “Holy shit,” Ben wheezed. Then he took two hits from his rescue inhaler, because there was probably a thousand things in our place for him to be allergic to.

  Poor guy.

  Liadan drew up short behind me and blinked. Flowering vines with starlight primrose crawled up our living room curtains, and fragrant spider moss climbed the fireplace brick.

  “It looks like a dryad went hog wild in here,” Ben said.

  It took some maneuvering to make our way to the couch. A golden planter overflowing with crimson blossoms took up the entire end table.

  Pilar hurried over and squealed. “This is beautiful! It’s like he knew exactly what I would want from Tir na Nog. Oh, I love ribbon lilies.”