I struggle to get out of her hold, but for a small girl Keva packs a lot of strength.
“He asked for it,” I snarl.
“If you don’t stop this sacrilegious act, I’ll have to call for help,” Keva says. “I’m sure Lady Irene’s still around.”
That manages to calm me down a bit. “Fine,” I say, giving up. “But only because you asked so nicely. Besides,”—I beam at the chaotic view, proud of my handiwork—“this ought to make my message pretty clear.”
“Well I’m not staying at the crime scene so let’s just—” Keva’s eyes light up on a particularly colorful pile of clothes. “Briefs, huh? I always thought he was a rather traditional guy.”
Rolling my eyes, I head back outside, dragging Keva after me—I don’t mind being accused of destruction of property, but not theft; a delinquent girl’s gotta know where to draw the line.
Keva throws one last longing look at Arthur’s room, the ultimate fangirl in her obviously itching to grab a few mementos.
“I guess we should head over to EM now,” she finally says.
“Really?” I ask. “We have to go to class even with the war and all?”
Keva tuts disapprovingly. “The more we know, the better prepared we’ll be,” she says as we make our way up to the third floor. “Do you think they’d send us, untrained, into battle like we’re common cannon fodder? By Kali’s mighty sword, Morgan, this isn’t the Order of Errant Companions!”
“The Order of what?” I ask as the swell of excited voices reaches us from the lecture hall. “Wait, are you saying there are others like us? Other knights that don’t go to Lake High?”
“Of course, dummy,” Keva says. “You think our Order survived throughout the centuries without ever suffering any schisms? But they’re all puny orders compared to ours, really not worth our attention. Although if you were forced to listen to Hadrian day-in, day-out, you might start to think otherwise.”
“Talking about Hadrian,” I say, slowing down as our classroom’s door comes into view, “how did you end up becoming his squire?”
“His last one died in the attack,” Keva says with a shrug. “I helped him with the school’s defenses, one thing led to another, and now I’m stuck with him.”
“How come he didn’t pick Bri?” I ask, chancing a look inside the classroom to see if the girl’s there already. “She is his sister.”
I spot Bri sitting calmly by the windows, her face blank, her eyes staring unseeing straight ahead of her.
“And that’s exactly why she can’t do it,” Keva says. “No favoritism.”
“But I became Arthur’s squire!” I exclaim, outraged.
Keva shakes her head at me, an enigmatic smile on her thin face. “You’re not his sister, as we all know now. You can imagine how pissed some people were, though, especially Jennifer. She and Arthur had a big argument over it at dinner time yesterday, before your little stunt with the Fey prisoner interrupted them.”
She pauses on the classroom’s threshold, frowning deeply. “I’m actually surprised Bri was picked at all to become a squire,” Keva says. Then, seeing my shocked expression, she explains, “I know you two were tight and all, but she’s been somewhat off ever since, you know….”
I nod in understanding. The death of Bri’s twin is not something I can wipe out of my memory, no matter how much I wish I could.
The moment we step inside, the class goes dead silent.
My first instinct is to hunker down, find an inconspicuous seat at the back of the room and remain as still as an old poster on a wall. But I know that tactic’s not going to work for me anymore, not when everyone sees me as a ticking bomb.
So I go for my next stratagem: If you can’t flee, fight.
Squaring my shoulders, I stop in the middle of the podium to face the sea of distrustful faces.
“All right,” I say loudly with more calm than I feel. “If you have something to say to me, do it now instead of behind my back later.”
“What kind of Fey are you?” Daniel asks from his usual spot at the back, his new knight sigil shining stark on the lapel of his uniform. “Just so’s I know how to use you after I catch you.”
“What kind of Fey?” I repeat stupidly.
“Certainly not a Leanan Sidhe,” Daniel continues. “You’re too ugly for that.”
“But she did seduce the President,” Brockton says, sniggering.
“Maybe she’s part-gnome?” Ross adds, snorting at his own, dumb joke.
“Nah, too tall,” Daniel says. He leans forward in his seat, tapping his lips with his forefinger. “I’m thinking maybe she’s a Dearg Due. She seems like the bloodsucking type.”
“Ew!” Laura exclaims, simpering one row in front of Daniel. “Sooo grooooossss.”
“Somebody might want to warn our beloved President that his life’s in danger,” Daniel adds, obviously pleased with all the attention. “Unless, of course, he’s into that sort of thing.”
Heat rises to my cheeks and I have to bite on my tongue to stop myself from lashing out at him—one might forgive me for a broken door, but I doubt people will be as lenient if I do the same to someone’s skull.
“There’s no need to insult Arthur by bringing him down to your level,” Keva says. “Besides, the only reason he picked Morgan to be his squire was so he could keep an eye her, same reason they made me be her roommate again.”
I force my mouth to wind back shut at this new revelation of Keva’s, and mentally kick myself for not realizing the truth sooner. I should’ve known that the Board would want my every move watched closely, even if it means having my own friends spy on me.
“I don’t know who or what my mother is,” I finally say, cutting their argument short. I flex my fingers menacingly. “But if you want, I’ll be more than glad to test my powers out on you. Of course, the process of elimination can be a long one….”
I have the pleasure of seeing Daniel’s face turn a couple of shades paler, and let my hand fall back to my side.
“Anyone else?” I ask, scanning the benches.
But everyone’s curiosity seems to have been satisfied and, with a contented smirk, I drop into the empty chair next to Bri.
“That was so unnecessary,” Keva says, tipping her chair back to look at me. “Now you’re really going to make everyone hate you.”
“Well at least they are being honest about it,” I say coldly. “Better that than getting stabbed in the back. Seems the only one I can count on here is Bri, after all.” I see Jack flinch next to Keva at his exclusion, but I can’t forget how he testified against me after Jennifer’s attack.
At the mention of her name, Bri finally looks at me, a feverish glint in her eyes.
“Did you do it?” she asks.
“Did I do what?”
“Push him.”
“Push who?” I ask, with growing confusion.
“Owen,” Bri says, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I heard you pushed him onto the Siege Perilous.”
Jack glances over his shoulder at me, his blue eyes reflecting my own concerns. Who could have come up with such a terrible lie? But I already know the answer: Jennifer.
“Of course I didn’t,” I say, nauseous at the thought she would believe such a thing about me. “How could you even ask me that?”
Bri’s eyes take on a faraway look that scares me even more. “I suppose…,” she says at last, losing all interest in the conversation again.
I dig my nails into the palm of my hands to stop them from shaking. I know that we haven’t had time to talk, what with getting locked away right after Owen’s disappearance, then the attack on the school, and of course my short spell in jail….
But to accuse me of murder? That, I must admit to myself, hurts more than finding out Keva’s spying on me.
“I see people are clowning around rather than getting some more studying done!” a gruff voice says.
Sir Boris hobbles in, his iron cane clacking on the floor with every second st
ep. He drops his heavy satchel onto his desk, eyebrows raised high on his bald head. “So perhaps we should make this lesson a quiz,” he says.
A loud grumble of protest rises from the class, and Sir Boris motions for everyone to calm down.
“However,” he says, shuffling over to the board, chalk in hand, “it wouldn’t be fair to some of us who have been…indisposed for a little while.”
“Didn’t think a changeling would get preferential treatment at this school,” Daniel mutters.
Sir Boris, mid-text, drags the chalk down on the board with a loud, ear-splitting screech, leaving a long, white mark down the black surface.
“I may have lost the use of one of my legs,” he growls, “but not my hearing. So if I hear one more word out of you, Mr. von Blumenthal, it will be detention for a week.”
I grin as Daniel’s face turns bright red at being called like a commoner, and look at Bri to laugh with her. But, eyes glazed, she doesn’t respond, and I wonder if perhaps she hasn’t started losing her mind like her brother did.
Sir Boris smacks the butt of his cane on the blackboard, making me jump in surprise.
“Take note,” he barks. “Now!”
The classroom erupts in a flurry of pens scratching on paper as we all write down Sir Boris’s notes:
Of the four main elementals, the Undine is the second trickiest to catch, after the Sylph. If unprepared, it will easily slip through one’s fingers, never to be seen by the knight again. Therefore, many like to use other elementals to catch Undines, either the help of a Sylph or, if unavailable, with that of a gnome.
“Sir?” Laura asks, raising her hand in the air. “Why can’t we use another undine or a salamander to catch them?”
“Using two elementals of the same nature against one another is bound to be chaotic,” Sir Boris says. “Think of it as trying to make two magnets touch each other: It requires an incredible amount of force to make it happen, and then the moment you release the pressure, they fly away from each other again. Now think how that would be with elementals. The results would be unpredictable, and potentially lethal for the handler.
“As for using salamanders to catch undines,”—Sir Boris shakes his head, the handles of his long moustache swinging back and forth like pendulums over his large stomach—“just think of what fire does to water. The best it can do is make it evaporate, and then the nymph is definitely out of your reach. More often than not, however, your ogham will be overwhelmed and could even be destroyed. A free elemental is much stronger than one chained by us, for their link to their source of power hasn’t been cut off.
“Now, who can tell me how one could catch an undine without the use of oghams?” Sir Boris looks around the classroom hopefully. But after a minute, his jowls sag in disappointment. “A trap,” he finally says. “Every Fey out there has a weakness for something—it’s how they lost their place in Paradise to begin with. The trick is to know what that weakness is.”
Sir Boris grabs another piece of chalk and nearly pulverizes it on the board in his frenzy.
“Gems, for example, are very potent!” he explains. “Like magpies can’t resist shiny objects, so too can undines not resist the lure of the following stones: Amethysts, lapis lazuli, aquamarines, azurites, and, most importantly, moonstones.”
“Why most importantly?” a girl at the front of the class asks.
“Because,” Sir Boris says, straightening away from the board with an irritated look, “undines are ruled by the moon.”
“They are?” Dina asks.
Sir Boris clucks his tongue disapprovingly. “Have you not been studying from your books like you’re supposed to?” he asks. “The word undine comes from the Latin word unda, which means wave. And what affects waves? The moon! OK, let’s move on to the plants now. We have—”
“Sir?”
We all stare at Bri, amazed that she’s pulled out of her torpor long enough to interrupt the professor.
“What is it now?” Sir Boris asks, suppressed anger thickening his Russian accent.
“What about circles?” Bri asks, completely unfazed by his wrathful gaze. “Like the one that’s around our school, but a different version.”
The question seems to have drained all of Sir Boris’s annoyance away. “It is said those things are possible,” he says grudgingly. “But that is an art we know very little of.”
“If that’s true, Sir, then how are we going to rebuild our school?” Daniel asks, for once sounding concerned.
“Well that’s different,” Sir Boris says, clearing his throat self-consciously. “It’s not made to catch anything, just keep things out.”
“Specific things out,” Brockton says with a pointed look in my direction.
“Nasty things,” Ross adds. “Can’t wait till it’s functional again.”
Sir Boris slams his cane onto the board, cracking it. “Enough of this already, the school’s defenses are none of your concern. But how to catch elementals is. Napichite pazhalustra9!”
We spend the rest of the hour in the same manner, Sir Boris making us write down list after list of elemental likes and dislikes, what makes them tick, how to avoid insulting them if caught unawares, and what to do in emergency situations—which basically boils down to wearing as much iron as possible, the slight glitch there being that undines could easily drown you, and salamanders turn your armor into a life-sized toaster.
When the bell finally rings, we all rush out at top speed.
“Move, halfling!” Ross shouts, barreling into me, Brockton and Daniel right on his heels.
I yelp as I scrape my hands and knees on the rough flagstones and glare back up at the three boys’ retreating backs.
“I thought the battle would have matured them a little,” Keva says, helping me pick up my scattered notes.
“And I thought it wouldn’t have changed others quite so much,” I retort, snatching the papers from Keva’s hands.
“Are you having a fit because I’m spying on you?” she asks.
I scowl at her and Keva has the gall to laugh.
“Oh, Morgan,” she says. “How could you not know? It’s so obvious.”
“You think it’s funny?” I ask, outraged. “Not only am I expected to grovel at Arthur’s feet all day long, but on top of that you’re going all Big Brother on me too?”
Keva flicks her braid over her shoulder. “First of all, the groveling will only really take place once Arthur finds out what you did to his room,” she says. “Second, if he’s smart, he won’t want you to be at his beck and call twenty-four seven. Not if he wants to stay sane anyway.”
“Yeah, but even then I can’t get a break with you lurking behind me all the time.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” Keva says as I stand back up. “I won’t tell them anything that you don’t want them to know. But in exchange, you’ve got to promise me something too.”
“What?” I ask suspiciously.
Keva leans in and whispers, “I want to check out fairyland.”
I cock my head questioningly then take a step back when the answer hits me. “You mean Avalon?” I exclaim.
“Not so loud, you nitwit,” Keva mutters. “But yeah, essentially.”
“Why?” I ask. “I thought you guys hated anything Fey.”
I gesture vigorously towards the classroom left open behind us and accidentally smack Bri in the face as she finally emerges. She reels around and hits the wall before straightening up, looking dazed.
“St. George’s balls!” I exclaim as Keva bowls over laughing. “Are you OK? I didn’t see you there…I’m really sorry! Are you hurt?”
“Don’t sweat it,” Bri says, rubbing her reddened forehead. “What are you two doing here? I thought you’d be in Lore class already.”
“Waiting for you, of course,” Keva says, grabbing her arm.
Keva throws me a pointed look, and I’m not sure whether she’s still waiting for an answer from me, or if she’s warning me not to talk to Bri about Avalon, b
ut I nod ‘yes.’ To both.
I do my best not to let the change in Bri affect me too much over the next few days, yet I can’t help but to acutely feel the loss of her once animated presence.
Even when Owen was sick and in the asylum she’d still confide in me, laugh with me, help me with my studies. Simply being with her had made me feel like…I was home.
Now, she’s turned into a robot, doing things solely when told to, only coming out of her catatonic state to spout a few random statements on the Fey that has even the teachers stumped. Every day she seems to be drifting further and further away from us, like a raft caught in a storm, and I sometimes fear she’s going to try to follow her brother by sitting on the Siege Perilous herself.
A ruler smashes on my desk, inches away from my hand and I jump in my seat.
“I would stare less at Bri’s profile and a little more at what I should be doing if I were you, Morgan,” Miss Pelletier says.
I let go of the inch-wide bluebell bulb I’m supposed to plant, staring guiltily at the deep fingernail gouges I’ve dug into its white scales. With a sigh, Miss Pelletier hands me a small pot and I immediately proceed to fill it up with earth.
“Can anyone tell me why bluebells are so important?” she asks, resuming her pacing around the muggy room.
Dina’s hand shoots up. “They’re a sign that the area is ancient,” she says. “Especially when found together with other plants, like wild strawberries and forget-me-nots.”
“And what does that imply?” Miss Pelletier asks.
Dina’s complacent smile melts off her face as she can’t answer, then turns into a frown when Bri raises her hand.
“They’re a sign of Fey presence,” Bri says, her voice sharp as an executioner’s axe. “They’re often used to trap people, especially children, into their lair.”
“Excellent,” Miss Pelletier says, clapping her hands together. “After you’re done with your bulbs, we’ll go over how to counteract the Fey’s trap. As you all know by now, every poison has an antidote. With this countercharm, you’ll be able to reverse the bait and destroy their hive.”
Rise of the Fey Page 8