by Kirah Nyx
“Being naked in a pond with nymphs? Maybe that I have latent fears about—”
“No,” she snorted. “Solstice.”
“Ah. Well, solstices are celestial events. It’s when the earth is turned on its axis to face the sun or away. It happens twice a year.”
Ivy looked like he’d stuck a pixie up her nose—totally stunned with a whisper of brewing annoyance.
He elaborated, “December solstice has the Earth’s North Pole tilted away from the sun at 23.5 degrees. The Earth’s North Pole is tilted toward the sun at an axis of 23.5 degrees during June solstice.”
“Oh,” she nodded, nowhere closer to understanding the meaning.
“You’ve probably heard about it in class, sometime. It’s when Fae magic is at its weakest.” He paused to yawn, then rubbed his hands over his face. “It’s nothing important. Not in the context of your dream.”
She smiled, reassured. “All right. So, what are doing tomorrow night? I might have time to—”
Ivy’s body jolted, and her hands slapped against her eardrums. A siren suddenly boomed throughout the Academy. Beneath the protection of her palms, her eardrums pulsed in protest of the sharp sound that assaulted them. Domenic jumped up from the chair, snatched his black sweater and tugged it on. He slung his sword strap over his torso and fasted his weapons belt.
“Gotta go,” he said before he turned and sprinted out of their corner.
Not a second later, he raced back into the nook in the library, and stopped in front of her. Swooping down, he planted a soft kissed her forehead.
The smooth skin of his pink lips lingered for a fleeting moment—a beautiful moment Ivy wished could last forever.
“Goodbye, Sky,” he whispered, so quietly that she wondered if he’d spoken at all.
And then he was gone again.
9
Clutching her books against her chest, Ivy pranced down the corridor. In the pocket of her plaited skirt was a crumpled letter she had awoken to earlier that day, no doubt delivered by the Imps. The letter had come with a parcel, filled with magazines, small vials of rare infused blood, and golden nuggets. The letter and parcel had been addressed to both Ivy and Felix Skylar, but, of course, Ivy kept the parcel items to herself. She wasn’t one for sharing, especially not with her brother.
On her way to deliver the letter to Felix, Ivy allowed her thoughts to travel. Unlike most her daydreams — which tended to revolve around warm pitchers of blood — Ivy found herself replaying images of Domenic Marroc over and over again.
One minute, she was recalling how the moonlight reflected in his charcoal eyes, and the next, she couldn’t stop picturing his rosy lips grazing her forehead. One could accurately state that Ivy Skylar had a crush on the Videer she had only known for three months.
Reaching the door, Ivy didn’t bother knocking, and pushed through it. She slipped through the entrance, and her heels clacked sharply against the hard floor. The room was close to the size of the Assembly Hall, and the walls were lined with all sorts of weapons.
Everything from duelling swords and daggers to pugil sticks and axes were stuck to the wall, criss-crossing in flawless patterns. Sparring poles protruded from buckets against the walls; tables offered a vast collection of armour; chalk basins littered the room to prevent friction and sweatiness on the students’ hands.
Pairs of Vampires filled the space, moving around in circles, battling fiercely with nothing more than their bodies used as weaponry. The skilled movements were clear as they spun, ducked and dodged expertly. Two coaches observed and supervised the spars, breaking up some heated fights and shouting instructions frequently.
Scanning the area, Ivy searched for her brother. She spotted him at the far end by the rows of poles and daggers. In her own little bubble of merriness, Ivy skipped around the fighting pairs and made her way over to her brother.
As she neared, and he came into view, she noticed his partner. Instinctively, her face twisted into a scowl; Samael Valac. From their stance, she knew she had almost intruded on a battle between them. Ivy pranced around them, jumped up on a table, and perched herself on the edge of it.
Plastic bottles of hydro-blood, small towels, and broken pieces of weaponry surrounded her on the furniture piece. She tossed her school books onto the table, and they knocked over a few bottles of lidded hydro-blood. She didn’t care, and watched Felix and Samael spar.
The blonde prince remained stoic and composed, despite the malicious glint in his eyes, and slipped a silver dagger into his belt. It wasn’t a dagger from the collection in the room. It was the Valac family dagger, infused with the blood of its victims over thousands of years.
The shouts and groans of training students filled the room, accompanied by loud critiques from the coaches. Samael and Felix paid the others no mind, and hadn’t even spared a glance at her. They were too focused.
Felix’s expression contorted into one of anger as his fist swung out in the direction of the pale and handsome face before him. Samael easily dodged the attack. Felix spun around to hit his comrade with a high kick to the head.
The attack only barely missed him. Samael’s eyes were alight with excitement, whilst Felix’s showed only vehemence. That was Felix’s downfall—he fought with emotion, not strategy.
Both Vampires righted themselves and began to walk in a smooth and steady circle. Felix spun around again and raised his leg high in the air. He brought it down and his foot connected strongly with Samael’s chest; he grunted and stumbled backwards. Samael and Felix dove at one another, but the prince swiftly whirled around before they could collide.
Felix’s attempted blow to the head went unsuccessful as Samael’s fist collided with his back. Felix grunted at the dull pain that exploded in his cracked spine. Both quickly faced each other, and Felix punched Samael in the gut harshly before he jumped forward and brought Samael’s face down to his uprising knee. Blood came the moment the hit connected. But Samael was not to be outdone.
Before Felix even knew what was happening, he was slammed against a pillar, and the hard wood bruised his pale skin. The back of his head smacked against the rectangular prism, now stained with a smear of blood.
Felix hurled himself at Samael. Their bodies collided with a crunch and both Vampires fell to the floor and began to wrestle. Their fists swung out, and they punched at one other repeatedly.
Straddling Felix, Samael yanked a dagger from his belt before he brought it down and stabbed his friend right in the heart.
Ivy winced on her brother’s behalf as blood poured from the wound onto the wooden slabbed floor.
Satisfied with his win in the fight, Samael pushed himself from the bloodied figure, and stood. Felix grunted and lazily gripped the handle of the dagger.
A hiss escaped his clenched teeth as he yanked it out. The wound began to knit shut gradually, and he tossed the dagger onto the floor as he lay there, regaining his strength.
Lazily, he waved away the approaching Shaman. His pride prevented him from accepting their healing help. That, and he apparently had his own store of Fae magic, as usual, and used it to heal himself.
Dressed in only black sweatpants, Samael’s chest glistened with a thin layer of perspiration, and his thick white hair hung over his forehead in a tousled heap. He approached Ivy at the table, stopping in front of her legs as he grabbed the towel beside her.
She kept her wary gaze on him at all times, and waited for Felix to heal. Samael set to swiftly rubbing the towel over the naked parts of his dewy body, his gaze locked with Ivy’s expectantly.
“What do you want?” asked Samael curtly.
“None of your business,” she sassed, and glanced at Felix who was crouched over, attempting to stand. He whispered a spell, and the sound of his broken bones snapping back into place immediately followed.
The days of mandatory Combat Class still haunted Ivy—it just as painful for a bone to be broken as it was when it snapped back into place.
Samael quirked his b
row as he regarded her, and drank generous amounts of blood from his bottle. Her fangs instantly extended from the scent wafting towards her. He removed the rim of the bottle from his glistening lips, screwed the lid back on and placed it onto the table.
“You haven’t been feeding,” he observed, his gaze fixed on her completely white eyes. “You look ghastly.”
Ivy scowled.
How much trouble will I get in if I kick him in the face?
Instead of succumbing to her desires, she slipped off the table and snubbed the Prince Parasite. Shuffling over to her brother, Ivy pulled out the crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to him.
“What’s that?” Felix rasped, his palm and splayed fingers pressed against his torso as his ribs repaired themselves.
“Dad sent a letter,” she said as he stood straight and took the paper from her grasp. Felix straightened out the crinkled letter before he read it swiftly.
Samael lingered by the table as his eyes burned into the back of Ivy’s head. She tried her best to ignore him, but the heat of his stare on her had her fangs avoiding retreat. They had a mind of their own.
It also didn’t help that she could still smell the drop of blood on Samael’s lips, and she was sure he hadn’t licked it away intentionally to toy with her.
“I can’t tonight,” Felix said, and handed the letter to his affronted sister. “I have plans.”
Ivy snatched the letter huffily and read it aloud, “I hope you’re both making your mother and I proud, etc. I expect that if you need it, Ivy, Felix will help you train for your upcoming spirit magic test. As Felix has already mastered his powers, and has passed the last three tests with impeccable grades, he is expected to assist you. This is non-negotiable, Felix. You will help your sister practice for this test, and that will begin the night you receive this letter. Ivy, if Felix disobeys me, I trust you will inform me immediately, and appropriate consequences will ensue, blah blah blah. Love you both, Father. P.S. Ivy is my favourite.”
“It doesn’t say you’re his favourite,” said Felix as he snatched the letter to double-check.
“He doesn’t have to,” she mocked. “We both know I am.”
Felix rolled his eyes and stuffed the letter into the pocket of his sweatpants, but didn’t argue. It was probably true—Ivy got away with a lot more than Felix ever could.
“So,” Ivy urged. “Are you going to help me or not?”
“Like I said,” he sighed, and rubbed his still-aching jaw. “I have plans.”
“Then cancel.”
“I’ve been working on this Fae for weeks. If I cancel—”
Ivy shuddered theatrically. “Gross. Spare me, please.”
“What about Sunday night? I can do that.”
“Don’t worry about it, Felix. I don’t need your help anyway.”
Ivy turned and stomped over to the table to fetch her books. Samael Valac leaned against the table. The intensity of his unreadable eyes traced her every move. She kept her gaze averted from his as she shifted the heavy books in her arms and made to leave.
Felix stopped her.
“Fine,” he said defeatedly. “I’ll help you. Tonight, in the forest, ok?”
A smile tugged at her lips as she nodded, and embraced the burst of hope exploding within her. With Felix’s assistance combined with Coach Aldon’s, she may just succeed in summoning her powers. She needed all the help she could get.
“Midnight,” Felix said, and pinched her upturned nose playfully. “Don’t be late.”
Ivy hmphed haughtily and flicked her hair over her shoulder. “I’m never late, Felix. You’re simply early.”
The Vampire den was quiet, with only a few senior students sitting at the desks against the walls, working on their essays. The cocktail bar provided a delicious aroma, but Ivy made it her priority to avoid looking at it. Blood bans were a killer, she decided, not to mention a nuisance.
Thankfully, a distraction came in the form of Addie and Penny, both cuddled up on a leather sofa by a crackling fireplace. Ivy swiftly approached and dropped down onto the rug.
Penny idly scanned the morning copy of the Chronicle as Addie scribbled down her essay on the properties of sphinx whiskers into her notebook.
Ivy stretched out her arms and yawned. “Any news on Laundelle?”
Penny uncoiled the bottom of the scroll and scanned the articles. As her gaze descended to the lower articles, her face hardened, and her brows wrinkled.
Ivy shifted to sit upright. “What is it? What does it say?”
Slowly, Penny looked up from the Chronicle. Addie’s notepad slipped from her lap as she, too, became engrossed by Penny’s peculiar behaviour. “Here,” said Penny. She handed the scroll to Ivy and tapped the bottom article, ‘Panic Spreads as Shifters Surface: Paranoia or Pandemic?’.
Smoothing out the translucent page, Ivy read the exposé aloud.
‘As of Saturday morning, a rapid increase of reports regarding Shifter sightings around The cloaked world has been confirmed. The latest of which belongs to the claims of an elderly Fae, who lives alone with her three Kitsunes, and Pixie nest. Self-proclaimed naturalist, Faun Glyn, occupies a hollow in the fields near Stonehenge Village.
Stonehenge Village is home to Linda Laundelle, currently missing. Laundelle is a Vampire representative on the Committee, who has, since late June, been unaccounted for. The search to locate her persists.
Faun Glyn spoke to the authorities on Saturday morning. She had expressed claims of a Shifter in the meadows near the Village, but has been unable to offer evidence of this. According to Ms. Glyn, the Shifter appeared twice.
“It was like nothing I’d ever seen before. At first, I thought I’d spent too much time around the fumes of my concoctions. I watched it through the window in my hovel. That was the day before Linda went missing. It came again Friday night, and I was too afraid to approach it. I don’t know if it knew I was watching it. It didn’t have any skin or fur. It was a wolf, but rotten—I could see its guts and heart, it dripped blood all over the grass. And its eyes … it had these bright, yellow eyes.”
Authorities have investigated the claim thoroughly, but have yet to locate any solid evidence to support any presence of a Shifter in the meadows. This begs the question; Why would it return to Stonehenge? One question of many unanswered …’
Ivy’s shaky fingers released the scroll. It curled back up in on itself. Addie and Penny looked at the Chronicle, then at Ivy, then at each other. The Shifter had been described exactly how Ivy had seen it.
“Maybe it’s a coincidence?” suggested Addie feebly.
“That’s one hell of a coincidence,” scoffed Penny.
Ivy gaped at the rolled scroll in her hand. Penny leaned forward and snatched the scroll before she reread the article.
“Say this is true,” began Ivy. “It’s ridiculous, I know, but let’s just pretend for a minute that it is. Why would I be dreaming about it? How could I dream about a Shifter I’ve never met or even heard about? I don’t have the Sight. I’ve never dreamt of anything like this before … Well, before you came here, Penny.”
Penny looked up from the scroll, her brows wrinkled together.
“You are clairvoyant,” said Addie thoughtfully. “I know you don’t think you are very skilled, but perhaps you are entering Ivy’s dreams whilst you sleep.”
It struck Ivy out of nowhere. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before. “You talk in your sleep,” she said, shimmying around to sit on her knees. “Did you know that? All the time you’re talking about how something’s coming.”
Penny’s black fingernails dug into the Chronicle, tearing the paper. “What do I say?”
Ivy shrugged. “Gibberish, mostly. But you always say that something is coming when the sun is at its farthest. That’s all I can remember.”
Addie asked gently, “Does that sound familiar to you?”
“No. I don’t remember my dreams.”
Ivy deflated, but a spa
rk of intrigue flickered behind her gleaming eyes.
*
Ivy’s hunger began to burn her throat. Her senses had piqued, and the eternal fire in her vocal chords singed the sensitive tissue. Each heartbeat within a mile radius, perhaps more, sang to her like the melodies of the sinister sirens. They beckoned her, promising to quench the thirst simmering in her belly, and soothe the burn tearing at her throat. It didn’t help that she was surrounded by lurking creatures in the Blood Forest. The alluring aroma of Pegasi wafted in the breeze. That was by far the most tempting blood perfume in the woods. So sweet and pure.
Already, her hunger was taking a noticeable toll on her. Her eyes were completely white, save for the black ring bordering the pupils that didn’t appear. Dark shadows had developed beneath her eyes, and her chapped lips had faded to a sickly beige. The once porcelain skin she wore had tinged to a grey, reminding of her of a particularly aged grey leather sofa in the library. No one sat on that sofa. It was ghastly, smelly, and home to a nest of nasty fire-wasps.
The cheats Ivy had been indulging in during her blood ban weren’t enough to ward off her thirst. It was dangerous. The bloodlust stage could result in a massacre if left untreated.
The snap of a twig hauled her from her thoughts. Ivy whirled around to face the intruder. Expecting to see Felix step into the small clearing she stood in, Ivy’s brows raised in mild surprise as quite the opposite approached. Samael Valac slinked out of the dusky shadows from between the trees, and into the small clearing lit by the moonlight above.
The clearing was no bigger than her bed back in the dorms, but it was spacious enough to stand comfortably with another person. Ivy just hadn’t thought that person would be Samael, the bane of her existence.
“What’re you doing here?” Ivy glanced around for any signs of her brother. “Where’s Felix?”
“Indisposed,” replied Samael, coming to a stop a few metres away from her. “He asked that I assist you instead.”
Her confused expression swiftly hardened into one of stone. “You can’t help me. Your magic isn’t the same as mine.”