“It’s high time we got rid of all the Fey in Lake High to begin with,” Agravain says. “We all know they are the root of all evil. We need to weed them out, the sooner the better.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Arthur says. “You’re accusing all the Fey here indiscriminately. Yet those are people who have devoted their lives to this school, and now you’re telling me that you want to get rid of them?”
“People, Arthur?” Agravain’s razor-sharp voice replies. “You forget yourself. I believe you mean to say demons. And yes, they should be destroyed, every last one of them, especially now that we know without a doubt the wards’ fall was an inside job. Starting with those filthy Watchers that live beneath our school.”
“The Watchers are only passive players in this war we’re waging,” Arthur says, and even through the door I can hear his weariness. “They’ve vowed to remain neutral throughout any conflict. Besides, they’re an important source of information to us. Without their support, we wouldn’t have half the reports on Carman’s activities that we’ve received.”
“And with no Fey around the school ya wouldna get your food cooked, or your dirty panties washed, Agravain,” Percy says.
“Vows can be broken,” Hector retorts before another fight can break out. “And don’t you forget what they were like before this oath of theirs.”
“You can’t hold their past against them like that,” Arthur says. “Not when they’re immortal beings. And I think the last few millennia should be proof enough that they are true to their word.”
“It is precisely because they’re immortal that they can’t be trusted,” Hector says condescendingly. “For them, a promise is easily forgotten. Besides, one can’t change one’s nature, and theirs is one of blood and destruction. They cannot be trusted.”
“You forget yourself, Hector,” Arthur replies tonelessly, “that humans are just animals themselves who also thirst for power and blood. They’ve never needed the Fey’s help to wreak havoc on earth either, and they can’t be discounted in our investigation.”
“Look, we all know you are enamored with your pet,” Agravain says, “but the rest of us still haven’t lost sight of our purpose here!”
I move away from the door, outraged. Who is he calling a pet here? My hand is on the cold doorknob, already pushing it down, when Keva stops me, her index finger over her closed lips. She then points inside, mimics getting punched in the face, then shakes her head. I breathe loudly through my nose, realizing that she’s right: It would be best not to burst in, uninvited, and risk getting beat up. Or worse—sent back to jail.
So, with a distinctively bad taste in my mouth, I finally stick my ear back to the door.
“Each party has stated its arguments,” Lance’s collected voice says. “It is time now to cast the votes. Who is still in favor of Arthur as our President?”
I press myself further against the door, the carved dragon’s wingtip digging deeper into my cheek, as if that’s going to let me see what’s happening inside the room.
After a long, strained silence, Lance speaks up again, “Very well. You’ve all witnessed the results. The meeting’s adjourned.”
I barely have the chance to straighten up before the door smacks me in the face.
“What’s this?” Gareth’s rumbly bass asks. “Looks like there’s gerbils roaming about!”
Gauvain pushes past his cousin then breaks into a wide grin at our sight, Keva and I both rubbing our sore noses.
“No need to worry,” Gareth says, thumping his chest with his fist, “everything’s back to normal.”
I let out a small breath of relief at the news—though Arthur can be the most annoying prat sometimes, he’s still loads better than having the two psychos Hector and Agravain lording over us all.
“’T was a close call though,” Percy says, striding out.
“How many votes?” Keva asks.
“Just two,” Hadrian says, stepping out next, fuming.
Keva’s habitual smirk melts off her face as Hadrian grabs her by the ear. “You and I need to have a talk,” he grunts. “I won’t have you eavesdropping like a petty thief!”
“Eavesdropping?” Keva says, trying to remain dignified despite the ear-pull. “I was coming to get the key to your room. In case you forgot, I am your squire.”
“Sometimes, I wish I could forget that fact,” Hadrian says, herding her away.
My sight of Keva gets suddenly blocked off as both Gareth and Gauvain move in front of me, pinning me to the wall behind their bulk.
“Wha—” I start.
But Gauvain’s large hand whips out to cover my mouth.
“Always a pleasure to deal with ya, Hector,” Percy says, as two shadows emerge from the KORT room.
“Laugh all you want, you wacko,” Agravain says, “we’ll see who has the last laugh.”
“Sorry about the unmanly handling,” Gareth says, when Hector and Agravain have retreated beyond hearing range.
“Yes, sorry about the manhandling,” Gauvain adds. “But we couldn’t let them see you. Hector’s temper is rather volatile in the best of times, and Agravain hasn’t been much better since he lost his leg, as you readily saw up in the library. And now that they’ve just lost their little coup…”
“Yeah,” Gareth says as the remaining knights file out of the room, “you don’t want them to blow away in your face.”
“It’s blow up, moron,” Gauvain says. “Unless they’re a bunch of flying pigs caught in a gale.”
Gareth snorts out a laugh. “Who says they aren’t?” he asks, as Arthur and Lance finally make their way out.
“You should be more careful with what you divulge to others,” I hear Lance say. “It’s dangerous to have them question your authority all the time.”
“I know,” Arthur growls. “But I find it hard to keep my temper these days. Everything and everyone seems to be conspiring against us. Hadrian’s just found out Sir Freyvidh’s been reporting straight to the Board, leaving us floundering behind. He could’ve saved us months of work if he hadn’t treated us as imbeciles!”
“Well at least ya’ve one-upped him now, thanks to Hadrian’s lil’ sis,” Percy says, playfully punching him in the shoulder.
Arthur’s frown doesn’t lessen, however. “We’re still far from repairing our wards,” he says dourly, “and we don’t know when Carman will strike again.”
“Hell of a way to dampen our spirits there, Artie,” Percy says, kicking at a non-existent stone.
Arthur takes a deep breath. “Sorry guys,” he says, cracking a tight smile, “I’m just tired. I’ll see you later at mass.”
But as the cousins leave, Arthur finally notices me standing there and his smile drops. “Not now,” he says, “I don’t have the energy to deal with your temper.”
“What do you mean you have to deal with my temper?” I ask, trailing him down the hallway back to his suite.
But without a look at me, Arthur slips inside his room and slams his door in my face.
Bubbling with indignation, I start pounding on his door. “Get out of there and apologize!” I shout, my fist throbbing with every bang. “I won’t have you treat me like a slave! Arthur? Answer me!”
I suddenly stop as I become aware that someone is standing right behind me. Slowly, I turn around and come face to face with a very grim and disapproving Lance.
“A squire is supposed to lighten his knight’s load, not increase it,” he says, and I cringe at the rebuke. “Not only that, but Arthur’s walking on eggshells right now, as you may have noticed, and any misstep on your part is only making his position here more precarious.”
“He’s the President,” I retort, “he can do whatever he wants.”
Lance grabs me by the shoulders so that his deep blue eyes can bore into mine with cool condemnation. “He can be voted out at any time,” he says. “And taking you under his wing has set a lot of people against him. He barely kept his post tonight.”
“That’s his
problem, isn’t it?” I flare up. “I never asked him to do anything for me!”
“You little fool,” Lance whispers harshly, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh. “Who do you think will protect you from the Board if he’s ousted? Heed my words if you don’t want to spend your life at their mercy, and be a proper squire for once!”
A stifled gasp has us both turn around at the same time, and my gut clenches. Glaring at us from down the hallway is Jennifer. Her eyes flicker between our faces and Lance quickly pushes himself away from me. But it’s too late: She’s locked onto her target—namely, me.
“What were you two doing?” Jennifer asks, prowling towards us.
My jaw tightens as she stops inches from me.
“I see what you’re trying to do,” she says sweetly. “You want to emulate me, don’t you? First, you go for my fiancé, then you move on to the best knight in school. Isn’t that right?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say.
“Don’t you dare deny it,” she hisses in my ear. “I’ve seen the way you look at them.” She throws Lance a significant look and an evil smile raises her luscious lips. “Now tell me, don’t you wish Lance would only look at you the way he looks at me?”
I ball my hands into fists. “Not at all,” I say.
My insides feel like they’re about to get yanked out my constricted throat, and beads of cold sweat pearl on my forehead.
Jennifer’s smile grows bigger. “Do you know why it is Fey can’t lie?” she asks, guessing the reason for my sudden discomfort. “It’s because they have no souls.”
I glare at Jennifer’s beautiful face, my vision growing blurry as anger boils within me. My hands shake with the effort not to punch that smarmy face of hers.
“So you see, Morgan,” she continues, “however you may try to hoodwink us, you won’t succeed”—she gives the door behind me a pointed look—“unless people are too stupid not to see through it.”
Slowly Jennifer’s hair starts to rise in the air, sticking out from her head like thousands of tentacles, as if she’s suddenly been caught in zero gravity. And for the first time since I’ve known her, a look of deep confusion crosses her fair features. Lance’s frown deepens as his gaze travels between Jennifer and me. Suddenly, the door behind me swings open as Lance springs in front Jennifer.
“Morgan, don’t!” Arthur shouts.
He grabs me by my waist and throws us down as a loud crack resonates in the hallway, shaking the walls. We land on the solid flagstones, and I hit my head on the floor, white sparks bursting across my vision at the impact, Arthur’s breathing loud in my ear.
An acrid smell reaches me and I cough. Finally, Arthur rolls off me and my mouth runs dry as I see the state of the hallway: The spot where I was standing a moment ago is singed black, as if it’s been hit by a massive lightning bolt, the torch that had been lighting the area disintegrated.
On the other side of the long, black stain, I see Lance trying to restrain an irate Jennifer.
“She tried to kill me!” Jennifer screams, pointing her finger at me, the whole front of her uniform covered in burn marks. “You little witch! You ought to be shot! Hanged! Flayed! Burned at the stake!”
She lets out a strangled cry of outrage as Lance grabs her into his arms and carries her away.
“I didn’t do it,” I murmur, crossing my arms tightly around myself to stop shaking. “I didn’t….”
But I’m not so sure of it myself. I felt something there for a second, rearing inside of me like a wild beast wanting to get out. And now it’s gone, leaving me an empty husk.
“Morgan?”
Arthur tries to grab my arm but I flinch away.
“Don’t touch me,” I say.
“But you—”
“No,” I say, afraid to meet his eyes, and I run away.
I burst through the western gate and into the cool night without once breaking my speed.
I run to forget what’s just happened, forget the fear that’s now lodged in the pit of my stomach and growing bigger every time my feet hit the ground.
How could I have ever believed that having powers was cool? There’s a reason everyone around here thinks the Fey are monsters, it’s what we are!
It’s what I am. Twice now I’ve caused an explosion, and just now I…
I come to a sudden stop, gasping for breath.
I could have killed someone, I realize with a shudder. If it hadn’t been for Lance and Arthur, Jennifer’s brains would have been splattered all over Lake High’s walls by now.
I heave at the thought, spilling my dinner all over the grass, tears prickling my eyes.
Irene was right, I realize, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand, they should’ve kept me locked up.
I jump as something soft and warm rubs itself against my ankles with a purr as loud as a motorcycle engine. I look down to find a black cat twirling about my feet, its tail brushing against my legs.
“You shouldn’t come near me!” I snarl, shoving the feline away with my foot. “I put everyone near me in danger, I—”
My voice breaks and the cat perks its ears up, its tail swishing back and forth like a metronome. It meows once, pads away then sits down by a large boulder and looks back at me.
“Don’t be stupid!” I shout, grabbing a rock to throw at it. “I said to stay away! Do you want to die?”
The cat burbles plaintively and I freeze, my hand in mid-air.
Only now do I realize I’m standing at the edge of the school’s perimeter, with no guard in sight. My eyes travel automatically to the jagged horizon line, the milky way shining brightly over the forest as if showing me the path to take.
“Avalon,” I whisper, the rock dropping from my limp fingers.
A dazzling light flashes in my vision, forcing me to look away. When I gaze back, I find that there’s a soft glow coming from behind the school’s large stone ward.
“Morgan?” a soft voice calls out.
My heart skips a beat as a small shape detaches itself from the massive boulder.
“Hurry, princess,” the childlike voice says. “We don’t have much time.”
I take a tentative step forward and let out a gasp as the strange glow hits the child’s face straight on.
“The spiky-toothed fairy!” I breathe, remembering the Fey boy who helped Nibs escape.
“It’s Pigfain,” the small Fey tells me, miffed. “And I’m not a fairy! I am the mighty Master of the Gates, and I—”
Something round and furry rams into him and a squeal of surprise escapes Pigfain’s lips.
“Puck!” I cry out when the furry ball untangles itself from around the Fey’s legs and the hobgoblin hops back up.
But instead of bouncing over to me like he usually does, Puck zooms off to the side, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Suddenly, there’s a loud, warning hiss as the cat faces the hobgoblin, hackles raised and claws out. Puck slides to a stop a few feet away, then starts grazing, chomping on large clumps of grass, having seemingly lost all interest in the feline. But, as the cat slowly backs away, Puck suddenly dives.
“Princess, please,” Pigfain entreats me as I watch Puck face-plant on the ground. “It’s too dangerous for you to stay here, you’ve got to believe me! If they get their hands on you—”
“You wait for me, you spy!” someone yells from behind us, interrupting Pigfain again.
My initial instinct is to duck out of sight, until I catch a disheveled figure pelting up the hill.
I watch, stunned, as Myrdwinn, the school’s senile director, hurtles after Puck and the cat, his long grizzled beard flowing down between his naked, knobby legs and trailing after him like a long, fluffy white tail. I look back to Pigfain but find that he’s already disappeared, the glow of his magic circle and my chance to escape both gone with him.
“Got ye, ye old beast!” Myrdwinn yells triumphantly as the cat, cornered between the boulder, Puck and Myrdwinn hisses furiously.
For a
second, all three seem to be suspended in time, then Puck and Myrdwinn both leap together, landing in a confusion of hairy limbs. I watch the cat extricate itself deftly from the mess then quickly slink away towards the forest.
“Oh, dear,” Lady Vivian says, startling me.
“I-I didn’t hear you come,” I say, panicking for a second at the thought of being punished for straying too far from school in the middle of the night.
Lady Vivian’s inclines her head. “What happened here?” she asks.
“Uh, they were both trying to catch a stray cat,” I say, glad the pressure’s off me.
“Were they?” Lady Vivian asks, her silver eyes reflecting the moon’s bright scythe up in the sky-lake.
“And I would’ve gotten it if it weren’t for your varmint here,” Myrdwinn says, lying upside-down, feet up against the boulder.
Puck, still looking for the cat, grabs a fistful of the director’s beard and shakes it hard.
“Off with ye, beast!” Myrdwinn spits, rolling over sideways and pushing the hobgoblin away.
“Come over here, Puck,” Lady Vivian says.
Puck looks up, momentarily confused, then hops over to his mistress eagerly. Muttering to himself, Myrdwinn gets back up then slowly unknots the bottom of his robe so it can cover his legs again.
“What were you going to do with that cat?” Lady Vivian asks him. Though her tone is light, I detect a note of worry.
Myrdwinn looks at her and gives her a toothy smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he says. He spits on the ground but with so little strength that the saliva gets caught in his beard.
I stifle back a laugh at Myrdwinn’s disconcerted look. He looks back at us then, his eyes brimming with tears.
“It’s alright,” Lady Vivian says with a sad smile. “Just go on back to the school and you can get yourself cleaned up. Puck, if you could?”
The hobgoblin nods vigorously, his horns bobbing up and down, then dashes over to the old man. I watch Puck grab the bottom of Myrdwinn’s robe in his tiny hand then lead the director back to Lake High.
“Pain can drive one to madness,” Lady Vivian whispers, so low I’m not sure I actually heard her properly. She brushes her long curls back. “You should take care of your friends so they don’t go down the same path,” she says. “And as for you, young lady, remember that it is your thoughts and actions that matter, not what blood happens to course down your veins. What happened tonight can, and should, be avoided.”
Rise of the Fey Page 17