by Alex Lidell
“I’ll make up my own mind if it’s all the same to you,” I tell Arisha, hissing as I pick up my spoon. The abrasions on my palms aren’t deep, but they sting.
“Well, if I’ve not found my two new favorite lasses,” Tye says, putting his tray down on the small table right after a heady citrus-and-pine scent fills my nose. Pulling a chair out for himself, he turns it around and straddles it in a smooth motion, his attention fully on Arisha. “I need a favor, braids.”
The small kernel of hope that I dared feel dies in my chest.
“And at least half the students in Great Falls would happily trip over themselves to grant you your heart’s desires,” Arisha tells him, her too-keen eyes taking in my reaction. “So go bother them.”
Tye flashes her a smile. “Aye, but see, it is the kind of favor you are best at—the mathematics kind. With numbers. And symbols. And counting.”
“Counting? Well, I’d certainly not expect you to go beyond twenty on your own.” Arisha tilts her head, her fingers worrying her left braid. The loose hair sticks out wildly enough to make the girl competitive for a scarecrow position. “What’s in it for me?”
“Whatever you wish.” Tye scoots his chair closer to her. “I can fetch your food while you work, massage your shoulders…get you a hair ribbon or ten.”
Arisha moves her chair away. “I help you with your math homework. You help Leralynn with her hands.” My eyes widen, but Arisha avoids my gaze, her attention now wholly on her food. “Given the amount of time you spend twirling around a stick for applause, you must know what to do with that.” She waves in my direction.
“What happened?” Tye turns toward me, his long lashes and sharply angled face so painfully beautiful that I hate myself for my own heart’s stutter. For how much my body longs for the warrior’s touch, even knowing it’s spurred by nothing but the rules of Arisha’s transaction. Stars. I’m better than this. I hope I’m better than this.
“Coal happened.” I pull my hands onto my lap. “And I don’t need help. Thank you, though.”
Reaching over the table with his long arms, Tye snatches my wrist impertinently. “Sorry, lass, but I’m not risking failing mathematics. They’ll bar me from competing.” Placing the back of my wrist onto the tabletop, the male opens my fingers gently, drawing a small breath as he assesses the damage with a knowing gaze. “Was it a rope?” Tye asks, the concern in his voice the first genuine thing I’ve heard since meeting him here.
“No.”
Tye’s emerald eyes flicker up to mine.
I study a rip in my sleeve.
“A secret. I like those.” Dipping a corner of his linen napkin into a water glass, Tye dabs gently against the cuts, his grip on my wrist tightening when I try to pull away. “Hold on, lass. We need to wash the sand out before this turns from nuisance to corruption.”
We. The word pierces me. Lifting my face, I find Tye absorbed in his work, those sharply angled cheekbones with their constellation of nearly invisible freckles tightened in concentration, one lock of red hair falling over his forehead, his hand as warm against the back of mine as if his fire magic had brushed the skin. I try not to soak him in too obviously, but it’s desperately hard. Tye wets the napkin again, his rolled-up sleeves showing off his muscled arms.
I brace myself for the sting.
Tye pauses. This time, instead of bringing the cloth directly to my palm, he runs his thumb firmly over my forearm.
I gasp softly, my sore muscles singing at the exquisite pressure that radiates up my arm.
“Be good and I’ll do that again,” Tye murmurs, a corner of his mouth twitching.
“I—”
“Tyelor.” The unexpected sound of River’s voice makes my heart jump, then race like a rabbit.
Turning, I find River standing beside our table, the aura of command hanging about him with familiar ease. Back straight, River holds his hands behind him, his well-cut red coat buttoned high up his neck.
11
Lera
Arisha and Tye rise at once, and by the time I follow their example a few moments later, the two are already bowing.
“Good morning, sir,” Arisha and Tye say together, just as I mouth, River.
River’s beautiful gray eyes slide over me with enough scrutiny to tighten my chest—and no familiarity. Although I was little expecting it by now, its absence still stings. “Your servant, ma’am,” River says dryly. “I presume I’ve the pleasure of addressing Lady Leralynn of Osprey, who managed to break curfew last night and get on the wrong side of an instructor this morning?” River’s keen gaze flickers over my hands, the distance between us widening with each passing breath. He’s painfully handsome and somehow even taller and more imposing than I remember, as if we’ve spent years apart already.
“Yes,” I answer, searching his eyes for something—anything.
A pause. Pregnant. Waiting.
“Sir,” Tye murmurs to me.
Bloody stars. “Yes, sir,” I tell River.
River nods. “Despite its grander-than-life reputation, Great Falls Academy is in truth a poor fit for a significant number of would-be students, Lady Leralynn.” River’s schooled gaze studies me with all the passion of a glass vase. “As such, I highly encourage anyone who finds our rules and customs unpalatable to depart sooner rather than later.”
My throat closes, my mind trying and failing to overlay this official with the male who took me in my bedchamber two days ago. I reach inside myself on instinct, searching for the mating bond before remembering the amulets’ effects on it. Amulets that all four of my males were wearing when I took mine off to gallop toward the odd call of magic. My mind races, wanting to follow this trail, but Arisha nudges me, and I realize with a start that I’ve never replied to River’s…invitation to get out of his life.
Shoving all thought and feelings into the darkness of my mind, I raise my chin at the deputy headmaster, who wears a soldier’s epaulets and a familiar face.
“Understood, sir.” My voice is clear and uncowed, mirroring nothing of my soul. The voice I cultivated under Zake, where signs of weakness led to pain. “I will apply myself to learning swiftly.”
River nods again, dismissing the new student as a nuisance while his attention shifts to Tye, whom he’d originally approached to see. The commander’s already wide shoulders spread further, encroaching on the other’s space without him ever taking a step. “A valuable medallion pendant has disappeared from my office, Tyelor,” River says, his voice low. “Would you happen to know anything about it?”
Well, Autumn did say the veil amulets drew what they could from true history—and a good portion of Tye’s was spent in and out of arrest. If I wasn’t ready to scream in frustration, I might actually chuckle.
“I don’t think so, sir.” Tye cocks his head, feline impertinence in every lithe line of his beautiful body. “What did it look like?”
“A disk. The size of a small saucer. With designs inscribed.”
Any trace of amusement drains from me. The key to Mystwood—that’s what River describes. Our one and only way of getting home. Gone. And beyond believing it a valuable trinket, I don’t think River even knows what he lost. The chill rushing over my skin turns to ice. The tear in the fabric, the threat to the mortal realm—none of it went away with my males’ lost memories. And now I can’t even travel back to summon aid.
“Hmm.” Tye rocks back on his heels. “I’ve seen nothing of the sort, sir. But I will certainly keep my eyes open for it.”
River steps forward, towering even over Tye. “If you locate it, please inform the culprit that thievery will not be tolerated at Great Falls. From anyone. No matter how many medals they’ve won. Have I made myself clear?”
Tye blinks, spreading his hands in innocence. “Of course, sir. As it shouldn’t be.”
River steps back, his eyes brushing me again, the smooth planes of his face impassive. Frowning, he focuses on my neck, as if he can see the veil amulet there. My breath halts, m
y body going still. Do you see something, River? Do you remember who I am?
The male crooks a finger at me.
I approach obediently, my heart beating a thready quick beat under his relentless gaze. See me, River. Feel me.
As I stop before him, River stretches his hand toward my neck. Toward—
“Jewelry is not permitted with gray uniforms,” he says, and I realize his intention to pull the amulet off. My hands rise defensively, my head shaking in desperate protest that River ignores as his fingers wrap around the pendant and pull. The chain digs into the back of my neck as it breaks.
Holding my breath, I wait for the gasps and panic, the shock as my disguise comes crashing down around me, its careful preservation the only thing that’s been preventing me from hauling my males out by the shirt collars and forcing them to remember me. But nothing comes. Blinking, I finally focus my eyes on exactly what River pulled from my neck and tossed like a bit of rubbish onto the tabletop. Not the veil amulet, but the intricate four-corded necklace he gifted me with the morning we left Lunos.
“It can cause injury during training,” he says, already moving away. “You may wear jewelry only with formal dress.”
I breath in the mix of relief and hurt, using the time it takes to sweep the broken gift into my pocket to reclaim my schooled face. “Did you take River’s pendant?” I ask Tye once I’m certain the other male is well out of earshot. Tye—my Tye—very well might have, for the amusement of it if nothing else. But the male before me knows nothing of his own roguish history in Lunos.
Tye grins. “Actually, I’ve no notion what River was talking about. But if I find it, I’ve some idea how much it’s worth now, aye?”
We return to Coal for more training after breakfast and dive into the academic components of Great Falls’ famous education in the afternoon. This opens another gaping problem. Raised as a stable hand, I learned my letters from a kind older servant who took me under her wing. The difference between basic reading and strategic analysis, however, is as vast as the rift between realms. The veil amulet might have convinced the teachers I belong in their class, but it can’t compensate for the fact that I understand nothing of what’s placed before me. Especially when I’m busy trying to work a way out of this mess.
Pulling a shawl tight around my ornate silver dress—Arisha prompted me to change for dinner after classes ended, having the decency to only raise a single brow when I pulled out one of Autumn’s ridiculously royal creations—I step into the library where Arisha, Tye, and I are to meet up for study that I’ll understand none of. The deeply carved wooden doors open into a great round room with a domed red-and-gold ceiling, the walls lined so high up with shelves of books that ladders stand beside them to help pull down the volumes. The trove of information surrounding me hums with the reminder of what I’m missing. How much I don’t know about what happened to my males—and need to figure out. Quickly.
I realize my hands are shaking and sink into the first high-backed chair I find, grateful to have arrived early. It’s the first quiet moment I’ve had to think since waking up here at dawn. My mouth is dry, my heart beating a thin pattering rhythm against my ribs, my stomach hollow despite the lavish spread of healthy food at dinner. Leafy salads and roasted root vegetables and poached chicken breasts. Even the perfectly seasoned risotto tastes like dust in my mouth. Bracing my elbows on the table before me, I cradle my aching head and force myself to sort through the disaster again.
The males and I were approaching Academy grounds… The images swim in my head.
No. I approached alone, clutching the Academy invitation that freed me from Lord Zake of Osprey, who took me in as his ward.
No. No, that isn’t right.
There is no Osprey.
Of course there is, I spent my childhood there.
The ache in my head turns to painful pounding with each beat of my heart.
I was traveling in the forest.
No, on the main road of course. Like a proper lady.
No.
“Are you quite all right?” asks a male voice a few feet away. Blinking up, I find a man in dark olive robes rising from behind the library’s main desk. In his late fifties, the librarian has a well-tutored voice, light brown hair peppered with gray, and thick glasses. Leaning on a cane to assist his stiff left leg, he makes his way toward my table, his eyes examining me with uncomfortable intensity as he touches my shoulder. “You appear pale, my lady. And new.”
I shift away and the man’s hand drops from my shoulder, the loss of contact burning my flesh in reminder of my males’ absence. Stars, I’m like a stray dog desperate for touch. “I’m well. Just a bit overwhelmed.” I stand, starting for the door. “Excuse me.”
My mind swims again. I can’t leave—I need to study, lest the Academy sends me back to Lord Zake in disgrace. No.
“Wait.” The man takes a step toward me. “My name is Gavriel. I’m the Academy’s librarian. What is your name?”
“Lady Leralynn of Osprey,” I mutter.
Gavriel sighs, running his hand through his hair the same way that…that someone I once knew did when anxious. “I believe you need to take the veil off for a spell.”
“Your pardon?” I ask over the pounding in my skull. My hands touch my face, finding only skin. “What veil?”
Gavriel curses and limps around me, his cane making an efficient tick tick tick against the marble floor. Stopping behind me, he brushes the back of my neck, a small click of a lock sounding before I can pull away.
The pounding in my head stops at once, my thoughts clearing as I feel the amulet slipping down into my hand, the intricately carved runes on its wooden face as cold as ice.
“There we are.” Gavriel limps quickly to the library door, sliding the latch closed. “Feeling better?”
12
Lera
“Who are you?” My voice skitters off the rounded library walls.
“Gavriel,” he repeats simply, inclining his head to me as he pulls a chair out for himself and sits, massaging his knee. “Currently the librarian at Great Falls.”
“And at other times?” I press.
“A cardinal of the Sentinel Guild, keeping watch over the mortal realm.”
I sink slowly into my chair, my hand clutching the veil amulet. Stars. With everything that’s happened, I’d forgotten to remove it as Autumn instructed—with near disastrous results. Now, without the magical artifact hanging around my neck, the headache and confusion are easing quickly—though even that little helps comprehend Gavriel’s presence. I focus on his ears, expecting my gaze to slip away as it does with the males, but find no problem looking at him.
“I am human,” Gavriel confirms. “And you are fae.”
I swallow. “But the veil amulet had no effect on you.”
“It had full effect, or I’d have found you earlier.”
“But—”
“I’ve been expecting you, Leralynn. And I had to trust my deductions over what my own eyes and mind insisted I was seeing. As I’ve been trained to do.” Gavriel pulls a pendant from beneath his robes, showing it off as if the symbol of pen and shield should mean something to me. Seeing that it doesn’t, he sighs and tucks the disk away. “Perhaps I should start at the beginning. After the ancients separated the mortal lands from Lunos, the humans feared that with our limited life span, the truth would morph and wither. The Sentinel Guild guards the history, studies the present, and stands watch should the divide ever be breached—for good or ill.”
“By stands watch you mean—” I say.
Gavriel nods. “We keep the knowledge alive.”
I rub my face. “In other words, you are a walking reference text of events so long past that no one else gives a damn about them anymore?” I wince. “My apologies. I could have worded that better.”
Gavriel adjusts his glasses. “Yes. And… yes.” He motions to a thick volume resting on the edge of his desk, and I oblige the silent request, bringing the book over to him.
“The twist to your humor being that my guild’s work has proven correct—as evidenced by my having anticipated your coming. And yes, I will explain that in a moment as well.”
He flips through the book, his attention on the pages. “Have you heard the legend about fae coming through from the other lands to take a worthy warrior and grant him eternal life?”
“I have. Zake, the lord I used to be indentured to, told it often—mostly because he believed himself to be the chosen one. The man was so stars bent on it that he built a whole estate at Mystwood’s edge, waiting for immortality to summon him.” I wrap my arms around myself, the memories pricking like tiny needles. “The irony was that fae warriors did show up at Zake’s estate, except for a different reason.”
“The Sentinel’s Guild would take issue with your word choice, Leralynn,” Gavriel says.
“Which word?”
“Irony.” He turns the book he’s holding around, the pictures showing a human turning fae in stages, ears rising, body and hair lengthening, a sword held high in her hands. The next image over shows the same grand hero protecting a village from shadowed hordes. “We prefer prophecy.”
I stare at Gavriel, waiting for the laugh, but the man is serious. “You think that I—” I shake my head. “The fae didn’t summon me to Lunos to gift me with immortal life, Gavriel. That was more an accidental by-product of my death.”
“And yet here you are.” The man opens his hands, his brown eyes round with excitement. “Born in the mortal world, summoned to Lunos, returning as an immortal warrior yourself—right when and where beasts of wrongness and corruption have begun raising their heads.” Gavriel closes the book. “That is why I took the position at Great Falls, if you were wondering. After hearing of fae taking a mortal near Mystwood, I sought out reports of unusual incidents—which Great Falls has seen a bit of in the past months. My prediction was that you’d return as an immortal warrior right in the center of the fray. I was not wrong. A battle is coming, and you are here to defend our kind, Leralynn. With me here to guide you through it, the best I am able.”