Crystal Wing Academy: Book One: Outling

by Marty Mayberry

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, staring straight ahead. “You’re pretty observant.”

  His limp was subtle, but I watched him. Couldn’t help it.

  “Don’t say anything about my limp to anyone? Please?” he said softly.

  A secret?

  If I noticed it, wouldn’t everyone else? Maybe. And maybe not. It was subtle.

  “You trying to hide it?” I asked.

  “No. Maybe? Yes.”

  Nothing like a direct answer. “Why?”

  “I just twisted my ankle.”

  “Happens to all of us at one time or another. No one will think a thing of it. I assume there’s a clinic here somewhere. You can get it checked out. Make sure you’re okay.”

  If wizards could use power to enhance skaptis like Alys’s diplomacy or to influence the weather—plus create wards to protect us from…something—surely there were others trained to draw in power to heal.

  “There’s a clinic on campus. In the center courtyard, near Wind Coven Dorm. But I’d rather not go there.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because some healers are also Seekers.”

  A term I’d heard in the auditorium that sounded like Crystal Wing Academy’s version of the magical CIA.

  “Why is it bad if a Seeker knows you hurt your ankle?” I asked, stopping in the hall to face him.

  He kept walking. “When they ask how I did it, I’d have to lie. Seeing right through me, they’d seek the truth until I had no choice but to confess.”

  I frowned and hurried after him, cricking my neck in an unsuccessful attempt to read his expression. “Why would you need to lie?” This sounded too complicated to me.

  “I can’t let anyone know how I hurt myself.”

  Before I could quiz him further, we arrived at the uniform store. He held open the door and waved for me to enter before him.

  “How did you hurt your ankle?” I asked as I passed him.

  Snagging my arm, he brought me to a standstill.

  He leaned close and murmured, “I jumped off the roof.”

  Chapter 8

  I stumbled backward, my arm slipping from his grasp.

  Before I could respond to his revelation, a woman wearing a tag identifying her as Saleena bustled over and stopped in front of me. Another woman approached Donovan and led him farther into the room.

  “Ah,” Saleena said, pulling my attention back to her. “I assume you’re a First Year student, come to get your uniforms?”

  “I’m Fleur Caldwell, and—”

  Without waiting for me to finish, she tugged me over to a desk spanning the back wall. “Right this way,” she said brightly. “Love your hair, by the way.” She tossed a grin over her shoulder.

  Her compliment perked me up. I hadn’t been sure how the color would be received here but, so far, I’d only heard positive comments. “Thanks.”

  “I’ve thought of going purple more than once myself but haven’t dared.” Encircling the desk, she faced me, leaning forward to brace her arms on the wooden surface.

  “Why not go purple?”

  “Wouldn’t want to attract imps. They love colorful things.” Reaching out, she fingered a strand of my hair. “Soft. Really looks awesome on you with your skin tone. You’re brave, though. I wouldn’t chance waking up one morning bald.”

  Wait. “They…they steal hair?”

  “Just colorful hair.”

  Now, I wouldn’t be able to close my eyes when I lay in bed at night. I gulped in dismay.

  “No worries though,” Saleena tapped my arm. “You’re probably safe. I don’t believe blue is one of their favorite colors. They are into purple, though.”

  “I guess that’s good?”

  “Just don’t go out in direct sunlight.” A frown bloomed on her face. “Or is it the shade you need to avoid? I always forget vital details like that.” She fed me a sheepish grin. “Probably why I gave up a teaching job to work at the uniform shop. Details are my downfall.”

  I’d have to add imp-investigation to my research list. There must be a thousand books about magical creatures on campus. My map showed a library, next around the circle.

  And here I thought I’d put my research background behind me.

  “Size?” Saleena asked me.

  I told her and she swept through a door behind the counter.

  Rather than clutch my hands over my head to keep imps away from my hair, I stared at Donovan while trying to look like I wasn’t staring.

  I must’ve misunderstood him. He hadn’t told me he’d purposefully jumped off the roof.

  It was a big joke. He’d climbed up on the roof—on a dare, I bet—then slipped and fell. Good thing he’d only hurt his ankle. The dorms were four stories high. A drop like that would kill anyone. Were wizards more impervious to injury than outlings like me?

  Oh, wait. Jumped. This wasn’t anything more serious, was it? Like an attempt to harm himself?

  “No,” he said as the woman helping him slipped through the door and into the back of the shop. Coming over to stand beside me, he said in a low voice, “I didn’t try to kill myself. And, no, I can’t read your mind. Just your face. But I can’t explain to you or the healers what really happened.”

  Why not? I didn’t understand.

  “You could’ve been seriously hurt,” I said, my voice rising in pitch.

  “Here you go.” Saleena returned to the front room with a stack of clothing inside a clear plastic bag. She dropped the bag on the counter. “Four sets of uniforms labeled with your name. Throw them on the floor when you take them off, and they’ll be returned to you within a day, clean and pressed.”

  Throw them on the floor? How did they get from there to the laundry?

  Overloaded just trying to absorb the idea of imps, the fae, and trolls living among us was enough for one day.

  “Okay, thanks,” I said. I’d figure the laundry situation out later.

  “You ready?” Donovan asked, and I nodded.

  We left the shop and continued around the circle. Next up was the library.

  I stood in the hall, staring through the glass with a hunger to know everything rising inside me. In the center of the library, kids sat at tables with thick books open in front of them. And behind them rose tiers, each level filled with long rows of books. More books than I could read in a lifetime. Would some tell me about magic?

  “We can go in if you want,” Donovan said. The humor leaking into his voice told me he’d caught me salivating like a kid in front of a candy store.

  “I want to. So much. But I need to get to my room.” My thrift store finds awaited unpacking. And I wanted to change into a uniform. Try to blend in better.

  He nudged his head toward a set of glass doors opposite the library entrance that led to the inner courtyard. “We can get there from here. FYI, there’s also a skywalk you can use from the third floor.”

  We went outside. Huge, dull red stone buildings rose four floors into the sky in the center of the main building circle, surrounded by plants and statues and trees. Walkways streamed among the vegetation.

  “This sounds like a funny question,” I said. “But where do we eat?”

  “There’s a cafeteria beyond the library.”

  “Is food included in the, uh, tuition?” That someone must've paid. Please don’t tell me I’d find a bill in my room.

  “You probably already know it but the government covers everything, even our uniforms."

  I didn't know that but I wouldn't admit it. I stuck out as an outling enough already.

  “But you don't have to eat at the cafeteria all the time. There are lots of small cafés scattered around. Off the lobby, you'll find a bagel and donut shop. In the courtyard outside, you can get ice cream.”

  I was salivating already.

  “And don't forget the coffee shop near the classrooms. Should’ve pointed it out when we passed.”

  And I’d missed it, totally absorbed in all things Donovan. It was clear I wouldn't go
hungry. I wouldn't need to work sixty hours a week to pay for my meals.

  “There’s also a snack shop in the library. Perfect place to get poutine or plain old fries.”

  “Who’d eat plain old fries when they could have poutine?”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  I grinned, loving how alike we were. “And how late is the library open?”

  “My older brother went to the Academy. I think I remember him telling me it’s staffed until midnight.”

  Perfect.

  As Donovan walked beside me down a crushed stone path outside, showing me where Earth Coven Dorm was located, I wanted to quiz him further about his jumping-off-the-roof comment.

  Curiosity, per usual, was eating me alive. The words kept repeating themselves in my mind, dragging my mood around every which way along with them.

  “Tell me something,” I finally said.

  He lifted one eyebrow.

  “Will you do it again? As in, jump off a roof?”

  Desperation filled his voice, and he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “No choice. I have to.”

  Chapter 9

  I felt weird knocking on my own door, but there didn’t seem to be a lock. Not that I possessed a key if I needed one.

  “What’s your passcode?” Donovan asked from beside me. We stood in the hall on the fourth and top floor of the Earth Coven dorm.

  I shrugged.

  “You haven’t looked at anything in your orientation packet, have you?”

  “Sure, I did. Otherwise, I wouldn’t know I’m in Earth Coven.” I floofed out a breath, sending blue hair shooting up and off my face. “I sort of skimmed the rest, though. I plan to look more thoroughly soon.” I’d been a little busy since I picked it up at the New Student desk.

  No one would deny the laughter in Donovan’s voice. “Might want to do it now instead of soon.” He dropped the bag with his uniforms on the floor and nudged his chin to where I’d tucked the folder underneath my arm. “Can I?”

  I handed it over, then leaned into his side as he flipped it open and scrolled through the papers.

  His snort of laughter burst out.

  “What?”

  “Did your roommate set this up or did you?”

  What was he talking about? From what I remember when I looked earlier, the line for the passcode had been blank. Had it magically appeared since then? “What do you mean?”

  A dinner-plate-sized circle in the center of the door swirled and shifted and a wide-lipped mouth appeared. “No passage,” the mouth intoned.

  My jaw dropped. “What just happened?”

  “We’re standing in front of your door. We didn’t speak the passcode. The door isn’t granting us entry.”

  “I kinda figured that.”

  He nudged my hip with his own. “Sure, you did.”

  “I did!” When he said nothing, I lifted my eyebrows. “What’s the passcode?”

  “Sexy.”

  Pulse meet overdrive. Was he calling me…?

  “That’s your passcode.” Humor spilled into his words. “Am I right to assume your roommate set it up and not you?”

  “Why don’t you think it was me?”

  “Something about you not knowing the word.”

  “Ugh.” I smooshed between him and the door. When the lips reappeared, I spoke firmly. “Sexy.”

  “Now that’s the way I like it, baby,” the lips said in a male voice. My door was controlled by a magical sort-of guy who liked being called sexy?

  “Can I get inside?” I asked. I couldn’t believe I was talking to a door. Well, to lips embedded in the door.

  “More than happy to grant you access, sugar,” the lips said. “Anytime.” A click sounded and the door creaked open a few inches.

  A girl with pink hair and a cute face with a tiny, pointy nose and a dimple in her chin pulled the door open farther and stuck her head out. Her hazel eyes appeared almost green in her tanned face. “The gods are fruitful!” she exclaimed. Reaching out, she grabbed my arm and dragged me inside. “Hallelujah! Blue hair. Please tell me it’s natural.”

  “Um, no.”

  She pouted. “Well, we can’t have everything, now can we?”

  “Isn’t your color from a box, too?”

  “Nope! It’s all me!”

  Wow. How had that color come from nature? “I’m, uh, Fleur. Fleur Caldwell. Your roommate.”

  “Knew that already.” Grinning, she tapped her temple. “Divination. I’m overflowing with it.”

  “Oh.” Did she mean that was her skapti?

  Unless I wanted to keep looking like a salesperson without business cards at a convention, I needed to discover my skapti soon.

  Grabbing onto me, my roommate gave me a big hug, squealing so loudly I worried I’d lose my hearing. “I’m so thrilled to meet you! We’re going to be the best friends! Just you wait and see!”

  Please tell me she wasn’t going to yell all the time. But my grin kept slipping out, joining with hers, because I had a feeling we were going to get along great.

  At least she wasn’t shouting about murder.

  “As you can probably tell, I’m part pixie,” she said. “Mostly Elite, but the pixie part is why my hair’s pink. And why I’m short.” Only an inch or so less than me, but I was petite, myself. Her gaze swept to my toes. “You must have some pixie blood in you, too, since we’re about the same height.”

  “I don’t think so. My mom was—is—short, and my dad…” I’d never met my dad. I didn’t even know his name. Mom refused to say a thing about him. I glanced at Donovan still standing in the hall. What did he think of all this? “I get my height from her.”

  “Maybe she has pixie blood and passed it down to you.”

  “I’m an outling.” Might as well lay it out there, get it over with. Hopefully, she wouldn’t shout about me being a mongrel.

  Her breath caught. Here it comes…

  “What?” she shrieked. “Haven’t met an outling before! This is going to be so freakin’ absolutely awesome!” She tucked her arm through mine. “You need to tell me what it’s like growing up without magic. How you knew you might be able to draw power.”

  My being able to draw power was still debatable.

  She must’ve caught Donovan leaning against the doorframe, watching our interaction with a light smile on his face.

  “Oh!” she said, sashaying closer to him. “Hi.” Grabbing his arm, she hauled him inside and the door banged shut behind him. “You must be Fleur’s boyfriend. I’m Patrice, by the way.” Her hand jutted toward him. “Since you’re Fleur’s boyfriend, you can call me Patty.” She strolled around behind him and mouthed to me, whoa, girl! while shaking her hand as if she’d burned it.

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I said.

  Donovan winked at me while speaking to my roommate. “I’m happy to call you Patty.”

  “If he’s not yours,” Patty said. “Does that mean he’s available?”

  “No!” Donovan and I both shouted at the same time.

  I burst into laughter, and they joined in.

  “You don’t think I’m available?” Donovan asked me, moving in so close I could feel the warmth coming off his body. “You think I’m taken?”

  I shrugged, but an unexpected and unfamiliar heat filled me. Where was this conversation going?

  Patty emitted an ear-piercing squeal, bringing my brain back to the ground. A necessary thing, because it had been floating. “Am I witnessing a major life event for you two?”

  “What do you think?” Donovan asked me.

  I shrugged again but couldn’t keep the grin off my face.

  “I knew it,” Patty said. “See?” She tapped her temple. “Divination. I know things before anyone else.”

  “We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend,” I pointed out.

  “You’re close.” Patty came over and looped her arms through Donovan’s and mine, linking the three of us together. “But I won’t push new love. It needs to ripen at its own pace.”
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  I rolled my eyes, feeling like I should be offended by all this but my lips kept curling up, matching Donovan’s.

  Donovan disengaged himself from Patty. “I’ve got to go. I left my uniforms in the hall, and I want to change. I’m right down the hall, by the way. In 420.”

  Patty urged him toward the door and I followed. “Come back and get us in twenty minutes or so? We’ll go to dinner together. I’m going to chat for a while with Fleur.”

  “Sure,” he said. The door opened of its own without a passcode, and he walked out into the hall. “My roommate is Bryce Juile. I’ll bring him along with me if that’s okay?”

  “Great!” Patty said. “Looking forward to meeting him.” After shutting the door, she collapsed on the wooden frame. “Wow. Hot guy alert. You are so freakin’ lucky!” Bouncing off the door, she danced into the room. “How long have you been with him?”

  “Actually, I just met him today.”

  “You work fast. I like it.”

  I wasn’t exactly sure what was happening between Donovan and me. We were skating around something intriguing, and I couldn’t wait to see what came next, but I barely knew him. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to get involved with someone desperate to jump off the roof.

  “I’ll help you unpack while we talk,” Patty said.

  Truly, I wanted to unpack my stuff alone, thanks. A quick peek told me Patty’s family could match the beaming groups I’d seen outside pulling carts laden with everything their child could imagine needing at school.

  A fluffy comforter with matching sheets and big decorative pillows had been arranged on her bed. Clear totes with snacks and toiletries rested on the carpeted floor underneath. And books. Wonderful, non-research books, had been stacked neatly on a wooden shelf. A big jewelry box rested on the bureau, sparkly chains overflowing the half-open drawers.

  My gaze slid to my cardboard boxes sealed up with packing tape sitting on the floor, and I couldn’t prevent my shoulders from drooping. My throat grew tight, making it difficult to swallow.