The Nocturnal and Fae Prison Academy Boxset [A Complete Paranormal and Fantasy Series Boxset]

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The Nocturnal and Fae Prison Academy Boxset [A Complete Paranormal and Fantasy Series Boxset] Page 86

by Margo Ryerkerk


  Rebellious Fae

  Fae Prison Academy Book 2

  1

  Virgie

  War lurked on the horizon.

  King Peter settled back onto his throne and a small, disturbing smile grew across his lips. He eyed the cactus that only seconds ago had been Thorsten. He tapped the arms of his throne as if turning a vampire into a plant was no big deal.

  Acrid vomit rose in my throat. I had agreed to bring Thorsten here. This was my and Nathan’s fault. Nathan stood beside me, arms behind his back in military fashion, gray eyes steely and unseeing. What was going through his head? We hadn’t meant to do this to Onyx’s consort. We only wanted to bring him here so he could negotiate peace.

  Now she’d have no choice but to strike back, playing right into King Peter’s hands, who wanted nothing more than to attack the Winter Court.

  I had done this to my friend.

  “Nathan. Vergeat. Thank you for completing your task.” King Peter leaned back, and the trees that lined the open-sky throne room settled back in place, straightening. I hadn’t realized they had leaned forward during the horrific transformation. “You may both leave until I call upon you again. Your continued loyalty to the Summer Court is expected, of course.” The king spoke with a scary calm.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Nathan bowed in respect as King Peter’s throne rose, carried by the two slave trees that always held up the root chair. The air filled with the groaning of branches while the cactus remained still.

  What are you going to do with Thorsten? What are your conditions for Onyx? The words wanted to burst from my lips, but as if sensing that I was about to speak out of line, Nathan seized my arm and whirled me toward the double door exit. I bit in my words and followed. Protesting now would only anger King Peter more. Given how unhinged he was, he might throw me in the dungeons or worse, and then I’d be useless.

  Nathan marched me out of the room and through the central, open courtyard of the castle. Pain spread through my chest as we walked along the river. Onyx had helped me at the Wild Hunt. And this was how I repaid her.

  “Virgie,” Nathan began once we reached the outer balcony. No chariot waited, but it would arrive soon, pulled by two white Pegasi.

  “We’re about to go into a war,” I snapped, and Nathan released my arm. The night sky spread overhead, along with the ribbon of stars that seemed to be laughing at us foolish and pathetic fae.

  A strand of Nathan’s whitish-green hair fell over one eye, hiding it, hiding him from me. “I know.” His voice was resigned.

  “You can’t just accept that! We need to free Thorsten and stop this madness.” I scrambled to come up with a plan. “King Peter wants Lady Cardinal. If we can find her, maybe he’ll consider releasing Thorsten in exchange for her. Onyx must be looking for her, too.”

  Nathan hesitated before speaking. “King Peter wanted a high-profile vampire prisoner.” He spoke those last three words slowly, as if I had missed the meaning.

  Nathan’s words slapped me, awakening me to the brutal reality. I had missed the meaning. Being cunning, King Peter had tricked us. Our prisoner hadn't necessarily had to have been Lady Cardinal. “You’re saying he knew we might bring Thorsten back?” Nathan remained silent. “Yes or no, Nathan?”

  He cast his eyes to the tile of the balcony, probably coming up with an answer that wasn’t a lie, something we fae couldn’t do. “King Peter only told me that he wanted a high-profile vampire prisoner. Just because King Peter communicates with me telepathically doesn’t mean I can read his mind.” He paused, stared at the tile, and then added, “It is possible he intended for us to bring Thorsten back.”

  I checked the archway leading into the castle for any media or spies before I drew close to Nathan. I lowered my voice to a hiss. “King Peter seemed very happy that we turned up with Thorsten instead of Cardinal.” Then I watched Nathan for a reaction.

  “He is a high-profile prisoner, Virgie,” Nathan repeated like a broken record and rubbed his forehead, like he had a headache coming on. “Thorsten offered to come with us. He understood the risks. I don’t like the outcome and was hoping for a better resolution, but it is what it is.”

  My pulse sounded in my ears. “Are you kidding me? Is that your attitude when you lead your fae into battle? You abandon them at the first sign of trouble?”

  Anger flashed across Nathan’s face, but he regained control and held his features neutral. He took my hands, his touch sending tingles under my skin. But I took no comfort in his touch. “Thorsten’s not dead. There’s hope for him, but I can’t do anything for him. I don’t know much about plant transmutation. “

  I let out a breath. Nathan, despite his strange attitude, wanted to help. “So let’s find someone who can change Thorsten back.”

  Nathan frowned and shook his head. “We are not allowed to go against King Peter’s orders.”

  Not this again. I quaked with anger and pulled out of Nathan’s grasp. As if defeated, he let me go. I backed away until I hit the railing. The spray from the nearby waterfall enveloped me, its roar filling my head and becoming my own. “After everything, you’re still on board with King Peter’s plans? He’s killed children. Now, he’s purposely starting a war. Can’t you see that following his orders will lead to more deaths?”

  Nathan flinched, but I didn’t regret my harsh words. What was wrong with him? I knew the king had taken him and his sister under his wing when they were kids, but Nathan was an adult now. He needed to make his own decisions.

  He had no chance to respond. The carriage arrived with the whooshing of wings, circled the balcony, and came in for a smooth landing. The two white Pegasi whinnied, waiting. Nathan rushed to the white carriage and opened the door for me. “Return to Vasara. Your lessons continue tomorrow.”

  “Fine.” Fists balled, I entered the carriage, wanting to get away from Nathan and cool down.

  With that, he shut the door, his jaw tight. The Pegasi rose in the sky, and Nathan worked his lips as if he wanted to tell me something, something that had been building inside of him for a long time, but instead of stopping us, he walked back into the castle as the gulf between us became uncrossable.

  I am on my own. The thought slammed into me as soon as I opened my eyes the next morning. Sunlight streamed through the skylight and onto my bed, bathing me in warmth, but the world had gone dark.

  How had I ever let myself think Nathan was coming around?

  Fueled by anger, I jumped out of bed and tore off the white suit I had worn into the Winter lands and not bothered to take off. Then I slipped into the plainest lavender dress in my closet. I wanted nothing more than to talk to Peony or Caleb, but both were still in the dungeons. While I doubted King Peter would keep his own bastard son and Peony in there permanently, I feared their weeklong punishment might turn into a longer period of time, depending on his mood.

  A knock sounded on my door, and I opened it, waving a dull-faced fae servant with bronze wings in, who brought me a tray of waffles, fruit, and coffee. I gulped down the coffee and managed a bite of a plain waffle and a spoonful of strawberries before pushing the tray away, unable to eat anything else.

  The rotating tree staircase delivered me to Blythe’s round classroom. I plopped down in the circle next to the other former earthbound fae. Blythe floated into the room, hovering just above the wooden floor as she gently flapped her peach-colored wings. The other students, including Kristen, watched with jealousy. So far, I had heard of none of us being taught to fly yet, and I doubted any of us would get to learn. Most of us were expendable. And my talents were needed elsewhere.

  Blythe took a position in the center of the room. “Please stand, class. Today we’re going to move on to a more advanced way of developing a mind shield. Rather than predicting the movements of your enemy, you’ll be working on avoiding the truth. This will come in handy, if you’re ever captured by Winter warriors and interrogated.” A serious undertone ran under Blythe’s normal, chipper tone. “As you all know, we
cannot lie, but there are always clever ways around giving the answers your enemies may seek.”

  I pushed up onto shaky legs, knowing I was expected to help with the lesson. Kristen chewed on her fingernail, and other fae in the room fidgeted. Most of them were training to be soldiers and would be the first to be sent into battle.

  Blythe spent the lesson instructing us on how to technically speak the truth without giving away the actual truth. “So, if a Winter warrior asks you what your commander ordered you to do, what do you say?” She trained her expectant gaze on a male fae with bronze wings.

  “To follow orders,” he parroted as I silently urged him to give the right answer, training my ability to influence.

  “And when that interrogator asks you what those orders were?” Blythe turned her attention to Kristen.

  Feeling slimy, I urged her to speak the answer Blythe wanted, pressure growing across my forehead. “I am to say that we are merely fighting for the Summer Court.” Kristen shook her head, freeing herself from my mental grasp. “But they will keep interrogating us.”

  “Yes,” Blythe said. “After a while, it will be better not to speak at all.”

  I let my jaw drop open as my breakfast churned. Blythe was telling the students to accept torture and not save themselves, and all for King Peter. I balled my fists and retracted my mentalist abilities, too disgusted to continue.

  When class ended an hour later, I stayed behind as the other students filed out of the room and to lunch.

  “Vergeat?” Blythe asked, her forehead puckering the tiniest bit.

  I had never tried to manipulate her before, but after today’s lesson, I realized I had to, and I would suffer no guilt from it. If anyone had knowledge about transmutation, it was the fae scholar who taught us about magic and faeland history.

  My teacher’s wings folded behind her back. I smiled, letting her know I was harmless. Then I unleashed all my mentalist power, which I had held back through the second half of class. My forehead felt as if it would explode as I enveloped Blythe in my influence. Her eyes glassed over, much as Kristen’s had when I urged her to nick herself. It was working.

  “I just have a few questions.” I kept my voice perky. Despite my control, Blythe would remember that something was off about this if I wasn't careful. “I’m wondering about transmutation. Who can turn others into plants?”

  I waited, holding my breath, and a dopey smile grew across Blythe’s face. “Oh. Transmutation. Other than the royal line, only a few other lines of fae have that ability. They’re said to stem from the most ancient fae lines, with the greatest connection to the Summer realm.”

  “Who are they?” I pressed.

  “The Transmuters, of course. They are capable of transforming plants into other plants. Merging species. Creating new ones. Those with advanced ability can even turn animals and people into plants and vice versa.”

  My heart leapt. I knew one person who fit that description.

  Peony.

  “Do they have greenish-white wings, by any chance?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Blythe said, moving a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You have been paying attention to your studies, I see.”

  “Yes. I really enjoy your lessons. Thank you so much for all your help.” This is all that you’ll remember about this conversation, I urged Blythe. I am a great and loyal student.

  I turned to leave, but another question stopped me. Blythe was still under my spell, so I breathed, “Out of curiosity, if someone gets turned into a plant, does it hurt?”

  “I don’t know.” Blythe blinked. I was losing my grip on her. “But it can do permanent damage if the subject is not changed back after a while.”

  My insides contracted. “Thank you,” I said. “I must go to lunch.” Time for Thorsten was running out.

  2

  Onyx

  I couldn’t believe it. Only weeks ago, everything seemed to be improving. At last, I was free to make my own decisions. My relationship with Thorsten was out in the open. I didn’t have to worry about the Winter fae, or anyone else, killing us for it. Best of all, Nocturnal Academy had been brought down to its knees. After meeting Caleb, King Peter’s bastard son, I’d even believed that my court could come to a peace agreement with the Summer Court.

  Now, everything was in shambles.

  It had all started a few days ago when Lady Cardinal had escaped from the Winter Palace, taking with her the knowledge of the whereabouts of the other vampires and thus their fae slaves.

  I brought my fist down on the ice table, making it crack and spiderweb. I should’ve questioned Cardinal harder, used torture, which she deserved, instead of hoping that a bit more time in the dungeons would make her willing to talk.

  King Olwen would have said I was weak.

  How she had escaped was still a mystery. Some Winter fae didn’t approve of me, a young half fae, taking over after my father had been banished to the fae wastelands, dragged there by Princess Petra of the Summer Court. But the Winter fae had proven loyal. Even if they’d decided to go against my orders, they would’ve killed Cardinal, not freed her, which meant that Cardinal had a helper who had at least released her from her cell. Maybe a spy of the vampires or maybe even a spy of the Summer Court, here to destabilize us. Blair, my friend from Nocturnal Academy, thought it might’ve been an elemental fae, who was willing to risk their life for money or whatever else Cardinal had promised. Elemental fae tended to be neutral.

  “Destroying the palace won’t help you.”

  I snapped my attention up at the voice and met Blair’s narrowed, green gaze. I had no clue how long ago she’d entered the icy dining room, nor did I care. My friend’s chin was raised proudly, and her carrot pixie haircut that was the same color as her huge wings created a stark contrast to the blue and white of the Winter Palace. A fire fae, an elemental who was neither part of the Summer nor the Winter Court, Blair chose to work with me after I’d brought down her sadistic master vampire Vulthus.

  “What do you suggest we do?” I let go of the table and leaned back in my chair, eyeing the crack in the icy table. Like all of the furniture in the palace, blue light shone from deep within, powered by ice magic I had yet to master.

  “We’ll get Thorsten back,” Blair whispered. In her hand was a letter held together by tape, King Peter’s letter, which I had torn in my rage. Slowly, she walked to the table and sat down next to me.

  “How will we get Thorsten back?” I asked.

  Blair forced a smile. “There’s always a way. Remember, how we thought there was no way out of Nocturnal Academy? Now, thanks to you, the place is rubble and ashes.”

  The tension within me uncoiled a little bit, allowing me to breathe. Blair was right. I had achieved so much that I’d once believed impossible.

  Blair smoothed out the taped together letter and scanned the text. I did the same, even though I knew it by heart.

  Princess Onyx,

  When this letter reaches you, you’ll probably already be aware that your court is missing a vampire. This punishment is necessary to teach you to never interfere with the Summer Court again. You had no right to work with my son Prince Caleb without getting my permission first or to become involved with the earthbound fae of Nocturnal Academy who are all descendants of the Summer Court.

  The proposition I made you during your last visit to my court is time sensitive. My offer of peace won’t last forever. So far, you have informed me of no plans to go to the wastelands to rescue my daughter Princess Petra, but I’m sure the latest events will provide you with the motivation you are so clearly lacking.

  King Peter Kallan

  “He’s a psycho, just like Vulthus.” If Blair thought her words would make me feel better, she was wrong.

  Ice spread through my chest. “King Peter is nothing like Vulthus. Vulthus was a powerful vamp. He had resources, but he was a minnow. King Peter is a whale.”

  Blair gripped my hand, holding it just above the table’s surface. “You w
ere a different person when you faced Vulthus. You’re stronger now. You know more, and after you’re crowned queen, the whole power of the Winter lands will flow through your veins.”

  I let out a mirthless laugh. “But it won’t matter, will it? I still won’t be able to prevent a war. The Winter Court will only crown me if I promise not to go into the wastelands.” The Generals had been clear that if I went to the wastelands as queen, it would mess with the equilibrium of the Winter lands, which was exactly what King Peter wanted. Going into the wastelands before I was queen meant certain death as I was only half fae. I couldn’t do this to my court, not when I was the last heir.

  And Thorsten—

  I tried not to think what King Peter was doing to him.

  Blair shifted on the fur cushion of the ice chair. “I don’t think war is the right answer, but you need to make clear to King Peter that he can’t toy with you.”

  Ice grew in my heart, hardening it, making it heavy, impenetrable, and yet so breakable. “Trust me, I’m done with his games. How dare he take Thorsten!” I raised my hand and released several ice daggers at a pillar. My ice chipped at the marble, and I felt a tingle of satisfaction. It felt good to destroy. I had taken so many hits from life, my parents, the vamps, and the Summer Court. I was done defending. They would learn to fear me. “King Peter thinks he can teach me a lesson. Well, I have news for him. I’m not a child anymore.” I rose. “Get the Generals.”

  Blair hesitated. “Onyx, what do you have in mind?”

  “Get everyone together. Now!” I glared at her. “We’re going into the Summer Court before dawn.”

  Blair nodded and left before I could apologize. My six generals entered a few minutes later. Blair trailed behind the three men and three women uniformed in black and blue armor, their cobalt blue and silver wings folded tightly against their backs. Guards followed, as they always did in the presence of the six generals. In silence, they brought maps of the Summer Court and spread them out before me. Sela, my favorite general, shot me a worried look. With her one hundred years of age, she was the youngest general the Winter Court had ever seen. I’d promoted her myself, needing someone in a high position I could trust. Next to her stood General Alden with his silver wings, a three-hundred-year-old fae who was as much a scholar as a warrior, and who had treated me kindly and never made a big deal of my inexperience or youth.

 

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