by G. Bailey
“Grandmother has wings, okay then,” I mutter, and mum doesn’t respond to my sarcastic reply but only grins over at me. I wrap my arms around myself more, wondering where exactly Lost Time Island is and why it is so cold. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised to see snow falling with how cold it is.
“Can you get more than one descendant power?” I ask, thinking of my dreams of crows I’ve been having. It’s a strange thing to dream—or have nightmares—of when crows apparently have a lot to do with my heritage.
“No. It’s impossible,” she tells me just as a wave of fear hits me, making me want to run away. Sweat gathers on my forehead as my heart beats loudly in my chest, and my mouth goes dry. I start to take a step back, feeling the urge to run as my mum stands still. The fear of—well, nothing—is filling my mind, and I can’t seem to think of anything other than the massive need to run away.
“Lost Time Island welcomes its blood. Madilynn Dormiens is here to start her first year,” my mum shouts in a breathless voice, the only sign the overwhelming fear is affecting her. The feeling of fear disappears straightaway, making me take a deep breath and rest my hands on my knees as I bow my head.
“The ward makes you feel fear, darling. It makes humans walk the other way from here and wards off people who are not welcome,” mum tells me, and it makes some sense. It’s a damn good alarm. I guess you can’t have humans just walking up to the gates of Lost Time Academy full of fairy tale descendants. The crunching of leaves makes me look up and straighten up as a man walks over. He has long black hair and dark eyes, but other than that, he is wearing a hoodie and jeans, looking like a normal guy in his mid-twenties I would think.
“The headmasters are ready to see you, Madilynn Dormiens. Please come with me,” the man firmly suggests. His voice is much posher than his appearance, which is odd. I look over at my mum for her thoughts, and she nods once before we start following him down the path. The path opens up to a large bridge over a river, and we walk across it into an enormous stone courtyard full of benches. The academy is basically a massive house, a mansion made from grey stone and tall pillars with dozens of cracks in them. There are no people—at least none that I can see—as we walk past the benches and up the stairs to the entrance. I look up when I get to the top of the stairs, seeing the circle and moon symbol carved in stone on the door, with the damn cat painted in tinted glass. There is writing surrounding it, but I can’t read it as it must be in Latin.
“I’m afraid only Miss Dormiens can enter,” the man stops my mum to remind her as he stands in front of the door with his hand resting on it.
“Good luck, darling. I know you feel lost, but maybe this is just where you are meant to be,” mum says gently to me. “I will miss you very much.” It’s difficult to say goodbye to her; I feel like I’m leaving everyone I’ve ever cared about right now, and I couldn’t think of a worse thing to do on my birthday.
“I will miss you, too,” I reply, sniffling a little as she pulls away. “Wait, how will you get back home?” I ask her.
“We will make sure your mother is returned safely. Now come, the headmasters are waiting,” the man says behind me in a strict voice, his tone suggesting he is tired of waiting. I let mum pull me into a tight hug once more.
“Be safe and beware of the ones you think you can trust,” she says in a quiet whisper, and I nod against her shoulder, not understanding her warning but remembering it anyway. I watch as she walks back towards the forest before I grab my bag and turn to see the man open the doors and wave me in. I walk past him into the big entrance hall of the house which is old. Very old and very dusty. Everything from the dark wooden floors to the massive chandeliers with giant cobwebs on them screams deserted mansion. There are small sconces that line the walls, casting large creepy-looking shadows everywhere. The lights even go up the huge staircase. The man walks to the left of the stairs, and I keep following him as I don’t want to get lost in here. He leads me to a small corridor that is lined with doors, and between each door are old paintings in frames. I glance at the paintings, which are all old people in ancient clothes, before concentrating on where we are going once again.
The man knocks on the last door in the corridor before opening it and waving a hand for me to walk in. I enter, and he shuts the door behind me with a slight bow of his head. I look back into the room to face two women sat on chairs behind a desk. They both have grey hair in a tight bun, the moon and cat mark are in the middle of their foreheads, and their matching purple eyes watch me closely. They are twins and impossible to tell apart. They are literally identical in every sense. They both are wearing green cloaks that are tied at the neck by a silver clip that also dons the symbol. Another cat and moon. Damn cats are everywhere.
“Madilynn Dormiens, I presume?” the one on the left says, and I nod rather than answering one of the creepy twins.
“Please sit,” the other one suggests and nods her head at the chair in front of the desk. I glance around the room as I go to sit, seeing the dated green rug and painted brown walls. There is nothing else in here other than the desk and chairs. The desk is covered in paperwork in neat piles and old cat statues that look out of place. There must be at least four cat statues that I can see with a quick glance, and their eyes seem to watch me like they know I hate them.
“I am Miss Ona, and this is my sister, Miss Noa. Welcome to Lost Time Academy. This must be a shock for you as it is for every descendant that walks through our doors,” Miss Ona says with an almost kind smile.
“Not every day you wake up and find out all the fairy tales are real,” I respond drily.
“No, it certainly is not,” Miss Noa says, her tone sharper than her sisters.
“What fairy tale are you from then?” I ask.
“You may not understand the ways of our world, but let me inform you of something you would do well to remember. Asking what someone is, is considered very rude,” Miss Noa snaps. Miss Ona shakes her head slightly at her sister’s sharp reply but doesn’t say a word to correct her or answer me. I don’t say sorry, because I didn’t know, nor do I think saying anything will benefit anyone right now.
“Now, your father sent word of your family gifts, and you will be trained how to use them as well as attend your normal classes,” Miss Ona says. The way they both speak, it’s almost as if they are the same person; one finishes a sentence, and the next takes off after it perfectly.
“This is yours,” Miss Noa says and slides a small book over to me. It has the symbol on the outside and my last name written in silver at the bottom. I open it up, seeing what looks like a blue cloud inside a mirror, and very slowly a face appears.
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Dormiens,” the face in the book says, and I scream, dropping it and jumping off my chair. A talking bloody book.
“That never gets old. It is always so funny,” Miss Ona states, laughing, and I look up to see Miss Noa’s lip twitch a little.
“That was mean, and it hurt,” the book says, drawing my attention back to the book on the floor. The actual book is talking and being almost sarcastic. A sarcastic talking book. This just gets better and better.
“This is your family book. It will guide you to your classes, living quarters, and will answer any questions you may have about your powers and new school,” Miss Ona tells me as I stare at the book on the floor like it is about to attack me or something.
“It talks,” I respond in shock. “The book talks.”
“Yes, Miss Dormiens. Do pick it up now. The poor book is alive and does not like being left on the floor like a non-magical object,” Miss Noa says in an unimpressed tone. I briefly look up, meeting her dark purple eyes, which are darker than her sisters, before walking over and picking up the book. The face in the book just glares at me like I wasn’t meant to be shocked it talked.
“You may leave now, and your book will guide you to your room,” Miss Ona says in a final tone.
“Fine. Thanks for your help, I suppose,” I respond, smiling at th
em before heaving my bag over my shoulder and walking away.
“One other thing, Miss Dormiens,” Miss Noa’s voice stops me as I get to the door.
“Yes?” I ask, pulling my gaze away from the weird book and the head staring at me still.
“Communication with anyone outside Lost Time Island is forbidden. We allow you to speak only to your parents once a week with our communications that are not human made. So do you have a phone or anything you wish to hand over now?” she asks me.
“No,” I answer straightaway, feeling like the phone in my bag is burning a hole through my clothes, but I know it’s not. I won’t give up my only chance to talk to Quinton, even if he hates me for leaving him. I can’t just stop all contact with him, no matter what I told my parents.
“If you are caught contacting anyone in the outside world, the repercussions would not be favourable,” Miss Noa warns. I don’t look back as I open the door and walk out without saying a word. I don’t care what the repercussions are, I won’t lose my only way to contact Quinton.
Chapter 4
“Now take a right here,” the head says, and I look up from the book to see where I’m walking. The book has led me up the stairs to what can only be described as a corridor-filled maze awaiting me. It’s just dark corridor after other dark corridor, full of dead ends, and the book does not know its way. I know it is just as lost as I am. I can’t believe I haven’t seen one person on all these trips, so I can’t ask for directions or how to get a better book tour guide. The lights are so dim as we get to another dead end, and I glare at the head in the book.
“Sorry, go back and walk down the corridor again. I am sure I know the way this time!” he exclaims with excited eyes. I do as he asks, even though I can’t really see where I’m walking anyway. I’m trusting a talking book to show me the way. A talking book.
“What’s your name?” I ask the head floating in the book as we get back to the stairs where we started from in the first place. The head is shaved of all hair, but I can tell he is a guy from his male features and voice. The man has strange, grey, big, bright eyes and a small face which is kinda cute. I can see a sort of neck attached to the head, but then it’s just blue clouds around everything else.
“Your ancestor used to call me Lane,” Lane says, and I nod.
“You knew my ancestor?” I ask him.
“Yes. Each book belongs to a family, and only when a descendant gets their powers do I wake up. Let me tell you now, being asleep for a hundred years is not what I consider fun,” he says, with almost a pout that’s hard not to laugh at. “I’m sure the world has changed over time. For example, your hair is almost wild. Is that normal?”
“Kinda normal these days. So, Lane, how do you know where to go now?” I ask, wondering if he is just leading me around in circles, because it sure feels that way.
“Magic, little one. I’m a little rusty, but it’s all coming back to me now!” he says with a grin. “In no time, we will be best friends, and I will find this room for you!”
“I’m not little by the way,” I respond as I keep walking down the long corridor he promises my room is in.
“No, you’re right, you do have unusually shaped big eyes and a large head,” he nods in agreement, while I feel kind of insulted by that statement.
“I do not have a big head or eyes!” I exclaim as I stop walking to glare down at Lane.
“Maybe it’s just my angle,” he says nervously, coughing. If I could see his shoulders, then I would imagine him shrugging right now as well.
“Your room is three doors down,” Lane says. “You nearly found it on your own. See? Teamwork!” I laugh at his idea of teamwork. It was more luck than anything else. I keep walking past the doors on the right before getting to the third one like he suggested. I open the door knob and push the door open to a dark room. Thank god it wasn’t locked.
“The light switch is on the wall behind the door,” Lane tells me quietly, so quiet I almost miss his voice.
“Why is it behind the door? That’s not a smart place to put it,” I mutter before shutting the door. I suddenly feel a hand slide around my throat before someone slams me headfirst into the wall with her other hand. I blink as the person turns the light on but keeps her hand on my neck.
“Get the fuck off me!” I shout and freeze as I feel something cold and sharp pressed into my back. I don’t move or try to fight whoever it is anymore, they have me stuck.
“Who are you?” the female voice comes behind me, but it’s Lane that answers.
“Miss Dormiens is your new roommate, and violence out of fighting class is against the school’s rules,” Lane says, tutting.
“Shit,” the girl mutters as she lets me go, and I gasp for air, my hand going to my throat the moment I am free. I turn with a glare to see my apparent roommate standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at me like I am the problem in this situation. The girl is about my age, with long blonde hair that is nearly as pale as her skin. She is a little shorter than I am, which is saying something as I’m not exactly tall myself. Her voice sounds American, but I’m not sure exactly where she is from; it’s not a south accent.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t know and thought…well, I thought you had broken in or something. The girls in this school can be bitches,” she states, losing the glare as her bright turquoise green eyes lock onto me, and she offers me a hand, while her other one holds the sharp dagger. I look at her hand for a second, deciding whether to reject it or not. I mean, I get her point. In her mind, I snuck into her room and scared the crap out of her in the middle of the night. In some ways, I respect her spunk. “I’m Octavia, but call me Tavvy,” she says as I shake her hand.
“I’m Madilynn, but my friends call me Madi. Thanks for the warning about the girls around here,” I reply and let go of her hand to pick up the book off the floor. I raise my eyebrows down at him as I realise something.
“Did you know I had a roommate?” I ask Lane, who looks down at the blue cloud and not at me.
“Yes, but how would I know that the fairy descendant was anything other than sweet. I remember her ancestor being lovely and not having a stabby habit,” Lane says with almost a guilty look as he avoids my eyes still.
“You still should have told me. I could have simply knocked on the door and avoided all this,” I state, glaring down at him as he still won’t look my way. I sigh and slowly close the book, noticing that he doesn’t look at me once. I look over at Tavvy who slides the dagger under her pillow. Clearly, she sleeps with it for protection. What kind of school have I just walked into?
“So you’re a descendant of fairies? Like Tinkerbell? The one in love with Peter Pan?” I ask once I put the book on the small table by the door, and she nods.
“Yep, I’m a fairy and all that, but I don’t have my wings yet. Also, Peter Pan’s descendant is a strange kid who can transform into a tree, so he never has to grow up. Not really my type. He is literally still twelve…and has been for hundreds of years. The tree is behind the castle. What are you?” she asks after blurting a crap load of information out about another descendant.
“Sleeping Beauty,” I say, and Tavvy rolls her eyes.
“Another princess this year. I should have figured it out; you’re beautiful,” she says with a little shrug.
“I’m not—” I go to disagree with her, and she interrupts by placing her hand in the air.
“Don’t try that one. All descendants who were made pretty in Disney films are fucking stunning in real life. You should see Cinderella’s descendant, he is yummy…but also an asshole,” she says, making me laugh a little. I already like my new roommate, I think.
“Is he?” I ask.
“Yep, all blond hair and crystal blue eyes, but he has issues with his powers, like all of us do,” she sighs.
“What would Cinderella’s descendant even get for powers? A fairy godmother?” I ask, thinking of the fairy tale and not knowing what else to imagine. She laughs before answering.
>
“Listen, most fairy tales the humans wrote…well, they got it wrong or mixed up. Cinderella could start fires, control them, and charm the opposite sex into falling for her,” she explains to me, and it kind of makes sense in a weird way.
“Like the prince who fell for a servant,” I muse.
“Exactly,” she says with a grin. I wonder how different my own fairy tale is from the one I grew up reading and the Disney films I’ve watched. “Let me help you set the bed up,” she offers, and I finally look around my room. There’s a bunk bed in the corner, with an empty bottom bed, and the top bunk is clearly Tavvy’s with the pink sheets. I see two wardrobes and a large dressing table which is covered in stuff near the window. The one big window is concealed by black curtains, and there’s not much else to look at. The walls have cracks in them, I notice, and it’s not dusty, but it feels like an old room.
“You don’t have to help. I woke you up, you should go back to sleep,” I suggest, but she shakes her head.
“Nope, I want to help. I was alone when I got here, and it sucks not having a clue about anything. So the bathrooms are at the end of the corridor. Luckily, there is only one other girl who uses that bathroom as everyone is scared of the—” she starts to tell me and stops. “Never mind.” I take my bag off my shoulder, wondering what exactly is scary about the bathroom and deciding to just leave it for tonight. I open my bag up, digging around for my red and cream bedsheets and grey blanket. I find them, and Tavvy makes the quilt while I sort the bottom sheet out.
“So red is your colour? I’m more a pink girl.”
“I didn’t choose these sheets actually. My mum bought them in case I got powers,” I explain, smoothing down the sheet, “though the blanket is mine.”
“It’s not too bad. She could have picked worse,” Tavvy replies, winking at me as she chucks the finished quilt my way. “I only started here two months ago when I got my powers. So we are in the same year, and luckily for you, I bet the same classes,” she tells me as I put my quilt on my bed. I’m happy to at least know someone for my first day tomorrow.