Institute of the Shadow Fae Box Set

by C. N. Crawford

  “I’m sure Melusine will fill you in.” Was that a hint of mockery in his tone? “But you might want to turn off that headlamp if you don’t want to wake her.”

  I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of asking him what he meant, but I flicked off my headlamp all the same. The door swung open into darkness, and he motioned for me to enter.

  I stepped inside the room, sniffing the air. It smelled a bit of flowers, moss—and something like the damp mud of a riverbed.

  The door slammed behind me. A stream of moonlight filtered through a slim window onto a figure—someone sitting bolt upright on a bed. I could just about make out feminine curves and long hair.

  I dropped my bug-out bag by the door.

  A pair of eyes snapped open, but her expression didn’t change. “Oh. A roommate,” she said. “They said I wouldn’t have a roommate. Guess they were wrong. Training begins in the morning. You’ve got a wrinkled shirt. Recruited from the streets, weren’t you? I see rumpled clothes, and I think ‘not a volunteer.’ I put two and two together. I get it. You were forced into competing here. A rogue. An outlaw. A ne’er-do-well. I’m not judging. But me? I prefer to follow the rules. You can follow the rules and still be a fun person. I like to think that I’m a kidder. You know, really funny.”

  Oh, gods. So this was Melusine.

  “The rest are volunteers like me,” she went on. “But they’re large, muscular men. That’s fine. That’s their thing. I see muscles, I think strength. My strength is magic. When we get to the trials that require magic, I will be in my element. Personally, I’m here because of my superior intellect—”

  It was at that point I mentally calculated the probability of convincing Aengus to give me a new room. I put the chances of him caring about my comfort just slightly above the likelihood of spontaneously combusting in the night but lower than the chances of randomly getting pecked to death by the Tower’s ravens.

  I decided to just stay where I was. And in any case, she was already telling me things I probably needed to know. Things like—we were supposed to know magic. And that would be a little problem for me, since I didn’t know the first thing about magic.

  “My mother wanted me to leave Maremount,” Melusine continued in a matter-of-fact tone. “She said to me, you never found yourself a suitable husband. Not my fault none of the men could see what a good wife I’d be. I can make four kinds of bread. Corn bread, oat bread—”

  I cleared my throat. “It’s the middle of the night. Why are you sitting up in bed?”

  “—and corn-oat bread, and also a second kind of corn bread with slightly more eggs. Did you ask some kind of question?”

  “Why are you awake?”

  “I have trained my sleep cycles. I can get twelve hours’ worth of sleep in one hour. I don’t like to waste time. It’s like the old saying goes, even the fae will die someday, so you should never sleep.”

  “That’s not a—never mind. I’m just going to go to sleep on the floor, and we’ll catch up tomorrow.”

  “The floor. Interesting. I see floor-sleeping, I see a backpack you don’t need—probably full of emergency items you can’t part with—I think traumatic history. Ready to flee at any moment. Keep all your stuff with you. Get attached to items and not people if you can help it, keep your stuff close and expect the worst. I put two and two together.”

  Gods save me.

  I couldn’t see much in the darkness, just the dark contours of parallel beds and a dresser against the wall.

  I pulled off my boots and stumbled over to one of the darkened corners of the room. I curled up on the floor, finding that a lush carpet covered it, soft against my cheeks. It smelled of the earth, of home.

  Melusine was still lauding her intellectual powers as I let my eyes shut. Images swam in my mind—of Ciara, tied to the chair, a gag in her mouth.

  Despite the horror of what lay within my skull, it turned out, Melusine’s monologues were actually very good for drifting off to.

  I woke with sunlight streaming into the room, and a vague memory of Melusine trying to wake me. I couldn’t remember what she’d said exactly, but it was probably something like, It’s morning now. I always get up early, myself, because it’s the best time to have an amazing sense of humor and make four kinds of corn bread.

  Normally, I was a light sleeper, but the magical spell Ruadan had slammed me with was still sapping my energy. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and I got a clear view of my surroundings for the first time.

  I hadn’t actually been sleeping on a carpet at all. Thick, lush moss covered the floor, and honeysuckle climbed the stone walls. Wildflowers grew from the ceiling—bluebells, yellow wood-sorrel, and lavender orchids. The beds looked as if they’d been hewn from enormous oak trunks, with branches sprouting into the air around them.

  The fae had really taken over in here since the apocalypse.

  I rose, still wearing yesterday’s rumpled clothes, and padded over the mossy ground to an archway leading into another room.

  I found a bathroom, but one like I’d never seen. A stone tub rose from the floor itself, like a natural feature that had always been there, and hot spring water bubbled in it. Ferns surrounded it, and pearly sunlight poured in through the window. Enormous, gnarled stags’ antlers grew from the ceiling, and water trickled into a rocky sink.

  But most importantly, in this bathroom, I wouldn’t be getting lectures about the joys of a freshly buried scrotum. In the peace and quiet here, I wanted nothing more than to take a warm bath, but I knew I was already late for—whatever I was supposed to be doing this morning. Possibly learning about magic.

  Back in the bedroom, a leaded window looked out onto the Tower Green. Morning light washed over a fireplace, carved wooden furniture, and wooden sconces that grew from the walls.

  Given all the wood and candles, I could only hope that some of the glowing runes on the wall managed fire safety.

  As I scanned the room, I noticed a handwritten note on my bed.

  Tried to wake you. Come to the Great Hall. Cailleach Tower.

  Yep, I was definitely late. Not a great start. Slovenly, captured in the streets, terminally late: I was definitely well on my way to achieving Baleros’s law about getting the enemy to underestimate you.

  Chapter 8

  My stomach rumbled as I pulled my lavender hair into a bun. I could only hope they’d feed us here. In the meantime, I decided to feast on a grape lollipop from my bug-out bag.

  I rushed into the hallway, blinking at the bright light that streamed in through diamond-paned windows. Judging by the angle, it was already past seven.

  With my backpack slung over my shoulder, I hurried down the stairs, then pushed through the door into the floral Tower Green.

  Which one was the Cailleach Tower? It’s not like they’d given me a map, and there were towers all over the place. I was pretty sure Cailleach was a fae name, but I’d never learned much of the ancient language.

  I scanned the structures before me, referring to my own mental map of the place. The Institute was made of two concentric rings of stone walls—bordered by the river on one side. But embedded in those stone walls were dozens of towers. Cailleach Tower could be any of them.

  Even without an actual map, I was lucky enough to have a powerful sense of smell—stronger even than most full-blooded fae. I sniffed the air. Through the floral scents, I picked up a riverbed smell. That was Melusine’s scent, I thought.

  I tracked it through the bluebells. The scent was leading me to the largest structure—the gleaming white castle within the fortress walls.

  When I reached the enormous wooden door at the structure’s base, I pushed it hard. It groaned open to reveal a carpet of vibrant moss spanning a long corridor. I followed it until I reached what I could only assume was the Great Hall.

  A wooden floor and rough-hewn wood beams supported the ceiling. A long banquet table spanned the hall, and five other novices sat around it. The room smelled of rich food, and my stomach r
umbled. As I crossed toward the table, they all stared at me.

  It was at this point, I wished I’d forgone the lollipop, and I popped it out of my mouth, certain my lips had been stained bright purple.

  Light filtered through tall windows onto the laden banquet table. The rich scent of baked pudding filled the air. My mouth watered.

  It didn’t take me long to figure out which one was Melusine, considering she was the only other woman in there. At night, I’d only seen a silhouette. In the daylight, I could see that she had blue hair cascading over rich copper skin. She sat on her own, with a few chairs between her and the men.

  The other four were fae males, each of them staring at me with a combination of desire and hatred. I was still wearing my crumpled miniskirt from the night before. Contrary to what Aengus had promised, the Institute had not provided us with everything we needed. Not to mention the fact that I was pretty sure I stank of Jack Daniels.

  The four fae males looked like purebreds, with pointed ears and elongated canines—which they were already baring at me. Of course they were. Most males from the fae realms treated women as servants, and if you weren’t from one of the noble classes, you were basically a sex slave.

  And yet….

  Baleros’s fourteenth law of power: Form bonds with unlikely allies.

  I didn’t think any of the fae males would be eager to ally with me yet—particularly given the fact that they were all snarling at me. But I decided to take control of the situation, anyway.

  “I’m Arianna. Fellow novice.”

  One of the males had vibrant orange hair, wreathed with oak leaves. He’d pinned his black clothing with a golden brooch, shaped like a scythe. His family’s emblem, I imagined. He nodded, nearly imperceptibly. “Maddan, Carver of Enemies, son of King Locrinus of the House of the Golden Sickle.”

  A prince, then.

  “Fintan,” said one with bluish skin and waves of green hair threaded with seaweed. “Slaughterer of the Feeble, Son of Og, House of Allod.”

  I knew his kind—they lived in the ocean and ate humans, apart from the livers, for some reason. Apparently, that particular organ was unclean.

  Another wore his long, raven hair slicked back, and dark tattoos snaked over his pale skin. I’d mentally labeled him Goth Fae.

  He narrowed his dark eyes. “Bran, Slayer of Foe, son of Deurbel, House of—”

  But the rest of the conversation was cut short by a loud growl from the fourth fae—one whose claws now dug into the table. He was enormous, with shaggy brown hair, a silver breastplate, and a metal helmet shaped with hounds’ ears. He wore a tunic of black fur. I had a feeling he was a barguest—a ferocious fae that could transform into a black hound.

  His horned metal helmet was nearly falling off his head with his fury, and his fiery eyes were locked on me. I wasn’t sure if he hated me for being female, a gutter fae, or if he gave everyone that sort of greeting.

  Fine. I didn’t really care who his dad was, and I’d just be calling him Dog Boy.

  As the barguest’s growl died down, a hush fell over the room.

  Maddan—the prince—sniffed the air, his lip curling. “You’re not a noble Mor, or I’d know of you. No wonder it smells like a gutter fae in here. Female, as well. The knights must be getting desperate.”

  “A gutter fae,” Bran repeated. He sniffed the air, too. Not very creative, this one. “You reek like the bottom of a whiskey bottle.”

  I cocked my head. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  The barguest growled. “The gutter females in my kingdom are whores. I use them. When I finish, they beg for a coin or two, and I squeeze their throats till they go quiet again.”

  Change of plan. I was not making alliances with these twats at any point. In fact, I was going to kill Dog Boy. Somehow during these trials, I’d be running a blade through his chest.

  “Agreed.” Sea Monster narrowed his eyes at me. “Where I come from, women like that are used for sport, and then discarded.”

  “Where you come from?” I crossed my arms. “A trawler’s net, was it?”

  “Once,” continued Maddan, drumming his fingertips on the table, “only noble males were allowed in the Institutes. Now they’ve opened their doors to any old gutter whores. It’s almost enough to make me reconsider my choice to come here.”

  I cocked my head. There was only one reason noble males like this came here, and it wasn’t exactly by choice. “But you don’t have any other options, do you? Your older brother will inherit your father’s title, and you’re shit out of luck.” I leaned on the table, looking him right in the eye. “Now you ask yourself why the knights would allow a gutter fae female outlaw in here. And a demi-fae, at that. One with a shady history like myself. Why would they break with tradition? Maybe, just maybe, it’s because they know I’m exceptionally skilled at killing.” I nodded at Melusine. “And maybe Melusine over there has some skills of her own. You’d better hope you get the chance to crawl back home in disgrace, but I think your chances of surviving are slim.”

  All four fae males snarled, baring their canines again. And while they got on with that asinine display, I mentally calculated how I could maim all of them in the next thirty seconds. The barguest would be first—I’d use his own knife in his throat. I’d kick Sea Monster in his head, then throw his knife into his chest. By then, the other two would be reacting. Bran would get a shard of ceramic plate in his neck, and Maddan—I think I’d kick Maddan half to death on the wood floor.

  I folded my arms, smiling at the mental image. “Anyhoo, nice to meet you all. I’d better eat before I get cranky.”

  I crossed to Melusine, who’d ignored the entire encounter. Given that she’d chosen to sit a few seats away from the males, I was starting to give credence to her whole “superior intellect” claims. Best to avoid those arseholes all together.

  Now, she was focusing completely on cutting up her food and eating it with remarkable efficiency. If I were going to make any allies here, she seemed like the most reasonable starting point. I dropped my backpack on the floor and pulled out a chair across from her, my mouth watering again at the rich smell of the fae food.

  Of all the supernatural creatures, the fae in particular were known for their cooking. Before me lay a plate of strawberries, bread pudding, and apples drizzled with honey.

  Maybe being a novice of the Shadow Fae wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

  Melusine kept her eyes on her food as she ate. “We’ll be matched this morning.”

  “Matched?” I asked.

  “Yes. We’ll find out which knight will be training us. They’re all highly skilled. Obviously, I wouldn’t want to be matched with Ruadan.”

  The buttery bread pudding melted in my mouth. “And why is that?”

  “He doesn’t speak, which would make training with him difficult, and I heard he killed his last two novices. Snapped their necks. After they fell, he severed their heads with an iron blade.”

  My stomach clenched. This certainly wasn’t getting any better. Hang in there, Ciara.

  Chapter 9

  I blinked in surprise. “He’s silent and he kills his novices,” I murmured. “Those are good reasons to avoid him.”

  She sliced a strawberry in half. “I told you. Superior intellect.”

  “Any idea why Ruadan doesn’t talk?”

  “Vow of silence, I heard. He won’t speak until he’s killed … someone. He’s just really into killing, I think.”

  “No idea who it is?”

  She cocked her head. “Have you heard the rumors that two Horsemen of the apocalypse remain alive? In magical realms. Death and Conquest. I think Ruadan wants to kill them, and their offspring. I mean, everyone knows angels don’t belong on earth, and they caused all this. All the wars. The death.”

  “Oh.” A silence fell over us. “I don’t think I ever told you my name. I’m Arianna.”

  “I’m Melusine. I’m not good with people.”

  “You and me
both.” I leaned in closer, whispering, “Since you obviously know a lot of stuff about things, what else can you tell me about the Shadow Fae?”

  “There are Shadow Fae Institutes all over the world, but this is one of the oldest.” Melusine speared her fork into two strawberry slices. “The Grand Master of the London Institute is incredibly powerful. In fact, he controls mist. He has an entire army he can summon from fog, though I’ve never seen it. He acquired it by slaughtering the last Grand Master. It gets passed on, like an heirloom.”

  “A mist army. That sounds a bit ominous.”

  “All the Shadow Fae have a kill list.”

  “Any idea who’s on the list? Besides the Horsemen and the angels?”

  “Nope. I expect our mentors will tell us.” She looked at my plate, frowning. “You have one less strawberry than everyone else.” She speared a strawberry on her plate, then deposited it on mine. Then, she returned to cutting up her strawberries into pieces.

  I was beginning to find Melusine oddly endearing. “So, this match you mentioned. How do we—?”

  The clacking of heels over the floor cut my sentence short, and I turned to see a fae male stalking into the room. By the mist curling around his body, I knew this was the Grand Master. His white hair was pulled back, and a silver crown gleamed from his head. His clothes were trim and tidy, and he wore a bow and arrow strapped over his back. I wasn’t entirely sure how he managed to use the bow, because one of his arms was missing—replaced with a silver replica.

  His body glowed with pale light, and I could feel the power he exuded rippling through the room. He wore a silver brooch shaped like a horse pinned to his cloak, and a spindly silver crown gleamed on his head. But most disconcertingly, in his good hand, he carried what appeared to be a human skull—at least, I thought it was human. It been fashioned into a sort of drinking cup with silver flourishes, and mist twined around it. He took a sip from it as he prowled over the floor.

  Suddenly, I’d lost my interest in the food.