by Kirah Nyx
Fleetingly, Ivy recognised the voice to be Addie’s. Even distressed, she sounded ever-so graceful, so poised.
The Shifter’s roar ripped out. Its thunderous boom drowned out terrified cries and Ivy’s panicked whimpers. Growls rumbled the soil beneath her, vibrating the debris crushing her. Each movement, slip of wooden slabs, crushed Ivy’s ribs just that little bit more.
Addie and the merchant tore wood and stone from her body, unearthing her from the wreckage. After a blur of red curtains flittered in her hazy eyes, Addie’s face came into view.
Addie heaved chunks of wood and broken furniture from her bruised body.
“Ow,” she groaned, and dragged herself out of the rubble.
The merchant gently lifted Ivy’s battered arm.
Ivy felt the healing energy flow through her, knitting her cuts shut, snapping her bones into place. She jerked and thrashed from the pain, but gritted her teeth and listened to Addie's soothing hushes.
“She’ll be fine,” assured the Fae.
Addie and the merchant grabbed her arms and heaved her up. They lurched over to the only table left standing and ducked behind it, shielding themselves from the chaos.
Crimson sprayed up in the air.
Ivy didn’t know if it was Videer blood or the Shifter’s. It wasn't until a chunk of grey flesh, bigger than her head, slammed into the neighbouring kiosk that she knew.
Peering over the crushed table, she dazedly gazed out onto the lane. The Shifter, brought to its knees, howled a haunting sound as Knights swarmed it. Swords glinted and danced around the beast, flows of blood spraying in their wake.
River Ridge came sprinting down the lane.
He ducked as a Knight went spinning over him. The body landed limply on the soil, flattening a leprechaun on impact. River, stretching out his pink hands, closed his eyes and mouthed silent words.
Whips of black magic lashed around him and shook the ground.
Craters formed, soil caved in on itself, cracking all the way up the lane to the fight. Videer jumped back, throwing themselves away from the parting earth just in time.
The ground crumbled beneath the beast and swallowed him whole.
Knights circled the trench and propelled dagger after dagger downwards. River ran forward, five Fae shadowing him, and all ejected bursts of magic from their palms into the ditch.
Ducking, Ivy threw her hands over head as an explosion of gunk soared up and sprayed all over the marketplace. Her foetal position didn’t help—the slap of the goo splashed down on her, saturating her in blood and guts.
Through the ringing of her ears, Ivy heard the sudden silence wash over the marketplace. No screams, no cries of horror or pain. There was only a quiet aftershock, broken by faint gasps, and the crackle and pop of the boiling trench.
Addie and Ivy climbed to their feet and looked out onto the lane. It was submerged in a cloud of smoke, from both the explosions and magic. Sparks tinkled in the fog, and ash swayed down to the blood-coated soil.
Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, Ivy dug her black fingernails into the broken table and hunched over.
“That was close,” whispered Addie in a raspy voice.
The merchant turned to Ivy. “That'll be two golden nuggets for healing you,” she said. “Do you still want to buy the gnome blood?”
Ivy blinked stupidly at her. A whisper of a laugh leaked from her cut lips, a high-pitched, bitter sound.
Bloody Fae and their greedy paws.
2
Her drenched boots squelched as she crept down the corridor. Ivy wasn’t the stealthiest Vampire—in fact, she was what her mother always called her; ‘A cyclops in a Keeper’s library’—and that was proven in her loud tip-toeing through the hallways of her home. Each step she took, the soles of her shoes sploshed, splashed, and squeaked, leaving a trail of muddy and bloody footprints from the front door to the second-floor corridor in the east wing.
“My, my,” came a familiar voice.
Ivy froze, her hands balling into fists as she squeezed her eyes shut and cursed herself.
“What is my rebellious sister up to now?”
Slowly, Ivy turned on the balls of her feet.
Felix, her older brother, leaned against the marble pillar beside his bedroom door. Damp silver hair drooped over his forehead, telling her that he’d just bathed, and his deep blue eyes flashed with malice. His legs were crossed at the ankles, and a brilliant grin swept across his face—he did love catching her in the act of whatever mischief she got up to.
“Nothing,” she said, and cleared her throat haughtily. “Just going to my room.”
“Covered in blood,” he noted. His gaze dragged from her unity clothes to her silver, roping strands. “Do you have bits of brain in your hair? Though, it does look a bit like heart.”
Ivy shrugged and looked up at the ceiling, unable to withstand his knowing stare any longer.
He glanced at the parcel tucked under her arm.
“Shopping?” he asked casually, and swerved his gaze to the long intestine draped over her shoulder. “Or hunting?”
“Um,” said Ivy. “Both. I went shopping … Then I went hunting. Hence the blood.”
“Well, in that case, I’m sure you won’t mind me telling father.” Felix paused as her eyes widened to the size of saucers. “I suppose you do mind after all.”
Ivy sneered at him. “Can I help you with something? Or can I go to my room now?”
Felix laughed and pushed himself from the pillar. “Father wants us down for lunch,” he said. “Ta-ta.”
Ivy flipped him off the moment he turned his back on her.
“I saw that,” he called over his shoulder before disappearing into his bedroom.
Muttering profanities under her breath, Ivy stomped down the hallway to her bedroom. She shoved through the door and ran to the en-suite.
The moment the engraved door swung open, she was hit with the fresh aroma of shampoo, scented candles, and traces of the blood she’d had the night before in the bathtub.
As she entered, Foxy, her pet Kitsune, darted through the doorway and made its escape into the bedroom. Foxy was a miniature fox with three fluffy tails and a talent for breathing fire on Felix’s favoured possessions.
Ivy shrugged and let the fiery critter roam free.
The dining room at the Skylar château was Ivy’s favourite room in the entire building. The beige walls featured golden-framed artwork and delicate drawings of picturesque landscapes. Marble sculptures were placed around the room, and a line of servants stood on either side of the double doors. Most importantly, however, it was where she spent the most time with her family, all of whom she adored, except perhaps Felix.
Edmund, her father, sat at the head of the table, beside Eveline, her mother. Felix and Ivy sat opposite, halfway down the carved granite table, stirring their bowls of serpent soup.
The Arcane Chronicle was grasped loosely in Edmund’s hand, curled at the base. The parchment news scroll was never longer than eleven inches.
There wasn’t much to report in the cloaked world, other than the occasional Shifter attack …
Edmund asked, “Ivy, have you seen the paper today?”
Resting her chin on the heel of her hand, Ivy yawned. “Not yet. Why?”
Edmund handed Felix the Chronicle and sipped from his copper mug of espresso blood. “The Ichor Academy in the Southern Lands was incinerated yesterday.”
Studying the paper, Felix read aloud, “The cause of the fire is unknown at this stage. Until the Ichor Academy of Magical Beings is rebuilt, the school grounds will remain closed to the student body and faculty.”
“Where will the students go?” asked Ivy. “To our school?”
“I would imagine the students will be sent to their nearest operating academy,” said Eveline. She made to continue, but the French double doors to the dining room swung open, revealing Prince Samael and Queen Anouk.
“—their entire species should’ve been slaughtered,” sa
id Samael indifferently to his mother. “Not cursed and banished.”
Everyone at the table stood at the entry of royalty. Unfortunately for Ivy, the Vampire monarchy were close with her own family. Their almost daily drop-ins grew weary.
“Sit, sit,” dismissed Queen Anouk. “We are merely stopping by for a few minutes.”
Ivy was the first to drop into her seat and resume eating, keeping her narrowed eyes on Prince Samael.
He seated himself beside Felix, unsurprisingly—they were as thick as troll thieves. Ivy met the prince’s hardened eyes, and as always, couldn’t resist the shiver that ran down her spine.
The prince was feminine in appearance, with a soft angular jawline, and a fine nose above his bowed lips. He was easy on the eyes, Ivy knew, but his gentle beauty was shattered the moment he opened his mouth. When it came to Samael Valac, Ivy was not conflicted in her opinion.
He was a horrible, dangerous, blood-thirsty, and cruel prince.
Wrenching her gaze from Samael’s unrelenting white eyes, Ivy pulled her glass of blood closer to her and listened to Anouk rattle on.
“Did you hear?” she said. “There was an attack on the Fae markets this morning.” Her posture stiffened as a servant filled her champagne flute with blood, as if she loathed their presence entirely. “Dreadful business, isn’t it?”
Eveline drummed her fingernails on the table, exuding poise and an air of importance. “It wasn’t reported in the Chronicle. This is the first we have heard a whisper of such an attack on our city.”
Ivy shrunk in her chair—Felix’s calculative gaze pierced into her flushed face. She could almost hear his mind connecting the pieces.
Samael said, “A Shifter somehow managed to slip into the city through the glittergates. It took the form of a skeletal creature, I’m told.”
“So it is true,” said Edmund. “The Shifters have managed to control their changes—exceeding their limitations to just wolves.”
Samael nodded. “They have evolved, it seems.”
Eveline placed her hand on her heart. “Was anybody hurt?”
“One Fae died in the wreckage,” said Samael. His sharp blue eyes fixed on Ivy’s pink face. Then, he glanced a Felix—the iciness of his eyes softened for just a moment. “And two Videer-Knights,” he said. “Fortunately, none of our own were harmed. The Shifter fell into a nearby crater, which allowed the Knights to kill him. Quite the mess, I’m told.”
“That explains the blood and guts,” said Felix, and he gestured to his stiff sister.
Ivy’s eyes widened and swerved to his stare.
“What?” Eveline frowned at her son curiously. “What blood and guts?”
“Oh, pardon me,” said Felix with a malicious smirk on his lips. “I am referring to the blood and guts that Ivy wore this morning. Do you remember, Ivy? When you were sneaking to your bedroom, covered in it?”
Ivy’s eyes, ablaze with fury, burned into Felix’s calm gaze. Foxy must have destroyed something in his bedroom, or urinated on his rug.
Ivy knew revenge when she saw it.
“You don’t remember?” prompted Felix. “You were carrying a brown parcel with you. One from the Fae markets, as it happens.”
Through gritted teeth, she hissed, “Traitor.”
The slam of Edmund’s copper mug on the granite table jolted throughout the dining room. Ivy bowed her head, awaiting the inevitable.
With contained anger, Edmund slowly said, “You went to the Fae markets, Ivy?” Each enunciation of the words he spoke were slicked with hope—he hoped she would tell him that Felix was a liar, and that she’d never been to the Fae markets a day in her life.
But Ivy didn’t lie. “Yes, dad. I did.”
“And you were there when the attack struck?”
“Yes, dad.”
Silence washed over the table.
The penetrative scald of Edmund stare seared into her face, but she kept her venomous eyes on Felix. If she’d had any Fae magic in store within her body, she would have expelled it right in his smug face. Alas, she hadn’t purchased any Fae magic that day at the markets, what with the Shifter attacking and all.
Eveline spoke in her rarely used motherly tone, “Are you all right, dear? Were you injured?”
“I’m fine,” she whispered.
Ivy briefly considered telling her parents just how close to the Shifter she had been, but that would only provoke her father further.
“I hid in a kiosk when it happened.” It was half true, wasn’t it?
Samael asked, “You mightn’t be strong, but you are fast, Ivy. I’ve seen you hunt. Why didn’t you run?”
Licking her lips nervously, Ivy kept her stare on Edmund. “I couldn’t leave Addie.”
“Ah,” said Edmund. “And I suppose it was Adriana’s idea to venture to the Fae markets in the first place?”
It wasn’t. Not at all. Ivy practically dragged Addie down to the markets that morning.
Ivy didn’t admit that, of course.
Edmund sighed wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“In that case, my concerns of your wellbeing have vanished, and all I am left with is disappointment and outrage at your insolence.” His voice was tired, thick with frustration. “You are aware of the rules of my household, Ivy. You know better than to frolic around in the markets, among those despicable Fae. Yet, even with that knowledge, you directly disobeyed me, and put yourself at risk—”
Bristled, Ivy interrupted, “It’s not like I knew there would be an attack, dad. Last time I checked, there wasn’t a Shifter Forecast in the Chronicle.”
Edmund smacked his hand down on the table. “Hush, Ivy!”
His shout silenced her. Biting the inside of her cheeks, Ivy met his cold stare but said not a word.
“This is one of the many reasons I forbid you from the markets,” he said. “Not only are the markets next to the gates into the city, you are far too naïve to manage yourself around the Fae. Tell me, Ivy, what are Shifters?”
“They’re Arcane,” she said, frowning. “Cousins of the Videer. Banished from our world a long time ago.”
“And how do they pose to our kind?”
“They’re skilled and trained in combat. And …”
“And?” pressed Edmund.
“And,” she said with a sigh. “They have venom that’s a threat to us. If bitten, we could die or become very ill.”
“Not to mention,” added Felix, “they can apparently mutate into any creature they wish, it appears. That makes them all the more dangerous, does it not? After all, they can pass as Videer now.”
“Excellent point,” said Samael.
There was a small smile on his lips, one that he tried to suppress, as he looked at Felix. Ivy wanted to stick a gnome up his nostril.
“Which reminds he,” he added, “if you’re to go down there, to the markets, perhaps you should take a companion—just in case.”
Felix blushed.
Heaving a weary sigh, Ivy slumped in her chair. “Get a room.”
“Ivy,” warned Edmund. “You do not seem to grasp the severity of your actions.”
Ivy shifted in her seat, resisting the urge to lunge across the table and smack the smirk off Felix’s face. Samael was no better. While he didn’t smirk at her, his heated stare burned with unjust anger. He had no right, in her opinion, to have any opinion on what she did in her spare time. He only hated her because Felix picked on her sometimes.
Eventually, Edmund spoke: “Go to your room and stay there until we depart tomorrow morning. I want whatever you purchased today to be given to the servants before nightfall.”
The legs of her chair scraped against the smooth marble floors as she stood. But, she didn’t leave immediately. Ivy performed polite curtseys, perhaps exaggerated, for the monarchs at the table.
Plucking a dead pixie from the snack bowl, Ivy smiled falsely and flicked it at Felix’s arrogant face. He was allergic to pixies.
“Goodnight,” she said and sto
rmed out of the dining room. The doors slammed shut behind her, but not before Felix’s furious voice billowed after her. He would retaliate. He always did, as did she. It was a toxic cycle.
One time, a few months ago, she’d woken up with chunks of Pegasus Paste in her hair after she’d put cockroach essence in his expensive whiskey blood bottle. Her hairdresser had to chop all her hair off to chin length—an awful bob that still haunted her dreams.
She hoped he didn’t chop them off again. Because in the morning, they’d go to the Academy … and there, there would be no parents to shield her from her brother.
* * *
Sunlight danced across the calm waters of the Fae Lake. Blinding glints shone from the reflective surface and washed over the excitable crowd on the pebbled shore. Every Arcane under the age of twenty carried luggage with them, prepared to embark on their day-long journey to The Arcane Academy.
Fae magic was unlike any other in the world, and Ivy was grateful for that. It was their natural trickery and manipulation of the elements that allowed their transportation.
The Fae warped time and space to create glittergates, which led all around the world to cities and villages. Glittergates got their name by their appearance: An oval-shaped shimmer a few inches above ground.
The glittergate on the Fae shore just outside of Verato City wasn’t glittering yet; it was only ever active at the beginning and end of the school year.
“Now, dear, are you sure you have packed everything?” Eveline fretted, adjusting the cashmere shawl draped over Ivy’s shoulders. “Gold, sunscreen, schoolbooks, socks? Blood for the trip?”
“Yeah,” Ivy droned, watching as the Valac family said their farewells to Samael. “I packed everything, mum. Just like last year, and the seven years before that.”
“Do not sass your mother, young lady,” Edmund Skylar scolded in his sharp voice. Ivy clamped her mouth shut instantly. “I expect you to be on your best behaviour, is that understood?”
“Yes, dad.”
“No more frolicking around the forest with that friend of yours.”
“Yes, dad.”
“Miss Adriana is a distraction to your studies and a bad influence. I want you to focus your full attention and ambition on your studies this year.”