Crystal Wing Academy: Book One: Outling

by Marty Mayberry

  “All of us are First Year students, actually.” He flicked his hand to the room in general.

  “Oh.” I felt like such a dweeb because I knew almost nothing about Crystal Wing Academy other than the few things Professor Mealor told me. I was here to learn how to correctly use magic. Ester had mentioned that much, insisting her sole role was to keep me safe and teach me the basics of English, Science, and Math. She insisted I’d learn all I needed to know about magic in my classes. Between her and the Professor, I sensed a sad theme here.

  But who the other kids were or where they’d come from was still a big mystery to me.

  Before I could say anything else, the two girls who’d witnessed my flight over Donovan’s bag came over to join us.

  The blonde linked her arm through Donovan’s and blinked up at him. “Where’s your schedule? I want to see if we’re in the same classes.” When she smiled my way, her expression projected friendship, but the tight, he’s mine look in her eyes suggested otherwise.

  Like, I hadn’t exactly been making a play for him. I wasn’t even sure I knew how to make a play for a guy.

  Thanks, Ester. Everyone could call me Rapunzel, minus the urge to let down my hair.

  “I haven’t looked at my schedule yet, Alys,” Donovan said, not doing anything to disengage his arm from her clinging form. It was like that, was it? My heart sank a little. I hadn’t expected to find potential boyfriend material at the Academy but I had to admit, once I met Donovan, my hopes had notched up a little. Just my luck he was already taken.

  “Did you get your Coven assignment?” Alys asked him.

  “Alys and I are in Wind Coven,” the redhead said cheerfully. “Looks like blustery weather ahead.” She laughed at her own joke.

  Donovan smiled. “Nothing to worry about. You’ve got me here.”

  What would he have to do with the weather?

  Alys’s lips only curved up slightly before thinning. As if the redhead had popped her balloon, she said, “I was going to tell him our Coven assignment, Moira.”

  “Like it’s top secret?” Moira said, seemingly unaware she’d offended Alys. Or maybe she didn’t care. “I always thought I’d end up in Fire Coven because I do enjoy a little pyromania every now and then, but I guess not.” Her attention wandered to me. “The Headmistress picks our houses with a scrying mirror ahead of time, but you probably already know that.”

  I didn’t but I smiled and nodded as if I did. Pyromania, huh?

  “Where did the mirror place you?” Moira asked.

  “Umm…”

  “Oh.” She nodded. “Bet you haven’t found out yet. You’ll know soon, after you check in. It’s in your packet.”

  A packet I assumed I’d get at the New Student table. Needed to get to that table…

  Alys snuggled closer to Donovan. “You got Wind Coven, too, right? After all, your skapti is weather.”

  Was that what he meant by weather? And there was that word again. Skapti.

  Donovan turned eyes that were anything but stormy my way. “Actually, I was assigned to Earth Coven.”

  “Earth?” Alys grumbled and disengaged herself from his arm. “Really? That’s a bummer. Maybe I could ask the Headmistress to switch me—”

  “And me!” Moira jumped in to say. Her brown eyes fell on me. “Can the Headmistress switch students’ Covens?”

  I shrugged.

  “We’ll get her to switch Moira and me to Earth Coven,” Alys said. “Then we can all be together.” She lifted her voice as if to include me in the conversation but I got a feeling it was more to put me in place. “Our families are members of the original six and full-blooded Elites. FYI, that means our blood isn’t diluted with outling. We’ve known each other since we were little kids. We’ve been friends forever.”

  More than friends if the way she continued to clutch Donovan’s arm was anything to go by.

  Sadly, the original six was starting to sound like an exclusive group I’d never fit in with.

  “Or, maybe we can talk her into putting Donovan in Wind Coven, with us,” Moira added, tapping her chin. “That would be a better fit with his skapti, right?”

  “I doubt it,” Donovan said. “Think Covens are set.”

  Moira nudged her head toward the New Student table and said to me, “Maybe go find out where you’ve been placed.”

  “I was heading there when I…”

  “Danced with my backpack?” Donovan said with humor shining in his eyes.

  “Yeah. I’m obviously not a very good dancer.” With backpacks or deer.

  Donovan leaned toward me. “Maybe I can—”

  “Donovan,” Alys said. “Let’s go to my room and…unpack. Then we can get some dinner.”

  I didn’t even want to know what she considered “unpacking”. My mind dragged me to a scene where they lay on her bed together, kissing.

  “Just a sec, Alys,” he said. He pried her fingers off his arm and stepped forward, closer to me. Maybe he wasn’t that eager for her version of “unpacking”? “What’s your skapti, Fleur?”

  “How do I find out?” Definitely feeling like a newbie. Sometimes, like now, I wanted to curse Ester, assuming I was capable of such a thing. It would’ve been nice for her to explain all this to me so I wouldn’t feel this out of place. Instead, I only knew I should ask, what do I do next, at the New Student Check-In desk. “Is my skapti also named in the Orientation Packet?” Please say it was, because a tiny memory from when Justine dropped me off at Ester’s suggested I didn’t have one.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Alys’s eyes widened. “Everyone learns what their skapti is when they’re a kid, after they’re tested.” She said it as if there was a line on a baby’s birth certificate delivering this information. She flicked her curly hair off her shoulder. “My skapti’s Diplomacy.”

  She wasn’t doing much to practice that skill at the moment. Right now, I read hostile. Oh, and, stay away from Donovan. My laughter burst out but faded fast when Moira and Alys stared at me with confusion on their faces. Donovan’s eyes sparkled, telling me we might be on the same page, however.

  But…Awkward.

  “I’m sure I’ll end up working for an embassy someday,” Alys said. She must’ve decided to ignore my spontaneous humor. “Dad told me he’d pull some strings to get me a position at the Royal Fae Court.”

  “That would be fantastic,” Moira said. “I’ll come to visit you and you can introduce me to a hot fae guy. Doesn’t even need to be a prince. You know that’s not my thing.”

  “Fae? Fairies are a myth, right?” I glanced around, trying to look casual while doing it, expecting to see kids walking past with wings tucked in close to their backs. Nada. Not unless they were hidden underneath their clothing.

  “Do I look like a myth to you?” Alys asked. Ugh. Foot, meet mouth. She was fae? She must’ve seen my incredulous expression because she added. “We all have fae in us to some extent. The original families more than others. That's where our magical power comes from. The magic in us, anyway. No clue where outlings get their power.”

  She said the latter as if outlings were mongrels trying to get into a high-class dog show. I wasn’t sure what an outling was but had a feeling I’d regret asking.

  “How can you not know something like that?” Alys asked.

  Again, I shrugged.

  “You really don’t know your skapti?” Moira asked. Not in a mean way, just curious and maybe a bit sad like she’d picked up on my mood and run with it. “Weren’t you tested when you were a child?”

  There was a test for this? I was so out of the loop. “I’ve been living…” Under a rock. Yeah, don’t share that. “No, I wasn’t tested.” Or was I? Another hint of memory swirled through my brain but I couldn’t latch onto it. “Um, will testing for…skapti be part of orientation?” Please, let it be part of orientation.

  “Testing is a requirement to attend Crystal Wing Academy,” Moira said. “How else will anyone know if you have the ability to draw
power to enhance your skill? You wouldn’t need to attend school here otherwise. It would be pointless. You might as well go to an outling school.”

  Again, not asking what an outling was.

  “I…Cloven and Justine and Professor Mealor seemed to think I belong here,” I said.

  Alys’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re on a first-name basis with the Headmistress and her assistant?” Her gaze flew down my front again. “Who did you say your family was? Are you a descendant of the original six?”

  I doubted I could claim an original six anything.

  “Well, my Mom…” Don’t even go there. “I was raised by Ester Jacobs.”

  As if someone had farted, Alys’s face twisted. “The sketar witch.”

  “What’s a sketar?” I already knew Ester was a witch in practice, though her behavior often went with the rhyming b-word.

  “A sketar witch draws her power from herbs instead of through threads, like us,” Moira said. “If you were fostered by Ester, you must be an outling, then. You were born from humans. That’s exciting. Why didn’t you say so? Then we could’ve helped you out. Explained a few things. Right, Alys?” She nudged Alys’s side with her elbow.

  “Sure,” Alys said without inflection. Call that a no.

  “I’ve only met one or two outlings before,” Moira said. Were outlings nearly extinct here? “And, to fill you in, our power is derived from the energy surrounding us, in strands. Ester draws her power from herbs.”

  Ah. That’s why she always kept something bubbling on the stove. I’d assumed she was into potpourri. “Can anyone draw from herbs?” Maybe that was my power.

  “Only if you’re part or full troll,” Alys said. “Is that why you’re short? You’re a troll?”

  “Don’t be mean,” Moira said. “Maybe she’s got some pixie blood.”

  Fae. Pixies. Trolls. I shook my head. “I don’t think there are pixies in my family. But you say Ester is part troll?” Next thing I knew, they’d introduce me to vampires.

  “You don’t know her lineage?” Alys asked, practically gaping at me. “You lived with her. Surely it was evident.”

  “Can’t say that it was.”

  “She never went out in the sunlight, did she?” Moira said, as if that fact alone confirmed it.

  “She said she sunburned easy. She’s allergic.”

  Moira smiled and patted my arm. “She would’ve turned into a stump if she’d been exposed too long.”

  That, I could almost picture.

  “Back to outlings,” Donovan said. “Outling is a term for someone born on the outside, among the humans, though magical outlings are rare. I imagine there are only a few in our class, though I’ve heard there might be more in the second year.”

  “If they’re—I’m rare—then all the other magical people come from…”

  “Fae originally. We have our own society,” Moira said as if reciting from a textbook. But, then, she’d grown up learning this while I was bumbling around trying to figure it out on my first day of school. “We live parallel to the outling society, protected by wards to keep them out, but we use magic, of course. The outlings don’t know we exist. If they discovered what we could do, it would mess with the balance. They’d make demands. Please stop this war, they’d say. Or, can I have a billion dollars? But sometimes, a human is born among the outlings, one with the ability to draw power to enhance skapti. If they’re lucky, they make their way here.”

  “And if they’re not lucky?”

  “Well, it’s not pretty,” Alys said.

  Maybe it was a good thing my mother had brought me to the Academy. At least she hadn’t done something worse with me.

  “I’m Moira, by the way,” she said, formally introducing herself.

  Alys dipped her chin. “Alys.”

  “And I’m Fleur.”

  Her face momentarily scrunched but smoothed. “That’s a flower name, like Petal or Rose.”

  “It’s French for flower, but yeah.”

  “I like it,” Donovan said. “You already know who I am.”

  “Your name means Dark Princeling,” I said, feeling like sliding underneath the marble floor tiles the second the words slipped from my mouth.

  Because I’d grown up at Ester’s, I’d been doomed to utter geekdom by the time I turned twelve. Ester’s library was filled with research books. None of that fun stuff for her. No romance, no fantasy, and definitely nothing a little kid might find entertaining.

  Anyone normal would avoid research books like the plague. Not me. Bored out of my mind without a TV, a phone, the internet, or even a single person my own age to hang out with, I’d spent most of my evenings poring through Ester’s books while she sat on the sofa, sewing. One of her books explained the meaning of names.

  Donovan chuckled. “Dark Princeling? That’s awesome.”

  “Appropriate.” Moira chuckled. “What does mine mean?”

  “It’s Greek and it means…” I wasn’t a walking encyclopedia, though I did have a good memory. It took me a second. “I think destiny or fate.”

  She grinned. “I like that.”

  “How about Alys?” the other girl said.

  I got the feeling she was dying to drag Donovan off to ‘unpack,’ but curiosity must be overwhelming her.

  “It’s German and means nobility.”

  Sunny mood restored, Alys leaned into Donovan’s side again. “How perfect.” She snuggled her cheek into his shoulder and blinked cats-eyes at me.

  Yes, I’d gotten the point already. Original six families and all that. Grew up together. Best friends forever. Etcetera.

  Alys turned, presenting her back to me. She tugged on the hem of Donovan’s tee. “We should go. You said you’d help me, and I’ve got a ton to do in my room.”

  “Did I say that?” Donovan said, his gaze focused in my direction. He shrugged and his half-smile reappeared again. I’d like to think it was directed solely at me, but he seemed to be a decent guy. His smile probably encompassed Alys, too. “I guess I’ve got to go. It was nice meeting you, Fleur.”

  “You, too.”

  As Alys dragged him away, he glanced back over his shoulder. “Save a dance for me at the Grand Ball?”

  I nodded and held back my smile until he, Alys, and Moira had disappeared into one of the parlors.

  Grand Ball?

  I knew what my first priority needed to be. Hit the registration desk.

  Second on my list? Learn how to dance.

  Chapter 5

  Unfortunately, the New Student Orientation Packet did not identify my individual skapti.

  Not that I truly expected to see it written in big bold letters on an official sheet of paper inside, but it sure would’ve made things simpler.

  I did discover my Coven. Earth. The same as Donovan.

  I had to admit, I was pretty psyched about that. Maybe I could talk him into helping me unpack…

  I snickered. As if.

  Also inside my packet, I found my room assignment, 424; my roommate’s name, Patrice Elvin; my class schedule which I’d look at later; and an outline of what I could expect during the week-long orientation. Oh, and instructions for where I needed to go to collect my four sets of school uniforms.

  What a relief. If I wore a uniform, I wouldn’t stand out in my thrift store flannel.

  While I was tempted to go to my room immediately, I decided to use the map included inside my packet to locate the uniform office. Then I could bring the uniforms to my room with me. If I changed, I might not stand out as an outling.

  I stood by the stairs, tipping the map one way then the other, wondering if I should go left or right or up. It looked like the uniform office was on the opposite side of the huge circular building, on the first floor. The big question was: how to get there? There appeared to be access through the middle, but the snaky, meandering paths might take too long. They ambled around three dorms, including mine located on the left inner side of the ring, opposite the uniform shop.

 
Without this map, I probably would’ve spent the next week wandering around in a confused state. It wasn’t like there were directions posted anywhere.

  “You’re looking a little lost,” a blond guy said in a cheery tone as he came over to stand beside me. “I’m Ashton Smythe. I’m in Wind Coven.” He tapped the embroidered swirling blue waves on the right side of his blazer. He wore what I assumed was the official school uniform: black pants, a white shirt, and a plaid tie. Not the get-up I’d want to wear while walking down Fifth Avenue, but around here? It would do quite nicely. “Can I point you in the right direction?”

  “That would be awesome.” I held out my hand. “I’m Fleur Caldwell.”

  “Oh.” His limp shake dropped away quickly and I swore he rubbed his fingers on his thigh, though his smile held true. “One of the outlings.”

  My human-born reputation preceded me.

  “I’m a Prefect,” he said. At my frown, he added. “A Prefect is a Coven Warden. We’re Second Year students and here to help First Years if they have questions.” His brows drew together and I got an idea this next message was solely for me. “And we keep them in line.”

  Ominous. If this was the normal response to my parentage, it looked like I’d need to keep my outling status hush-hush. Assuming that was possible.

  “I was looking for you,” he said. “The Headmistress asked me to pass on a message. She wants to see you in her office tomorrow evening at seven.”

  That hadn’t been on my orientation schedule from what I remembered, but I’d only skimmed the paperwork in my folder. “Okay.” Seven was late for a school meeting but maybe she was busy until after dinner.

  What did she want? To zap me to a new location where I could stagnate for another few years? Please, no. Now that I’d finally gotten here, I was determined to stay despite the mixed reception.

  He glanced across the foyer as if he hoped to escape, a common theme with Academy staff. “Unless there’s anything else, I’ll be—”

  “Actually,” I said, snagging his sleeve before he could flee. “Can you help me?” I lifted my map.