by Wendi Wilson
“Puck?” I asked when she finished the poem.
She nodded. “Yes, it was Robin’s nickname.”
A memory tickled the edge of my mind, like something about her story was familiar in some way. But I couldn’t quite grasp it, so I let it go.
“That’s why Tiana calls you Puck?” I asked instead.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “So, everything was going well with the school, the Sylphids were following all the rules, and the council didn’t have much to do. Robin got bored.”
She breathed in deep and let out a long sigh. I could tell she was gearing up, mentally, to spit out the meat of the story, so I held my silence.
“There were a couple of council members he didn’t like. They were always belittling him, making him and his love powers look stupid. Inconsequential. So, when boredom set in, he came up with the bright idea to make their wives fall in love.”
“With each other?” I blurted out.
She nodded. “The two women snuck around behind their husbands’ backs, meeting in private. Sending each other love letters. The men became suspicious of their wives’ secretive actions and unexplained absences, and they both set out to spy to find out the truth.”
“Uh-oh,” I mumbled.
“It gets worse,” she said, her face drawn with pain. “When one husband saw his wife exiting the other’s room, he immediately assumed she was sleeping with his fellow council member. Not the wife. At the same time, the other man found one of the love letters his wife had received. Her lover had signed it with just her last name.”
“So he thought it was from the husband,” I said. She nodded, and I asked, “So, what happened?”
“They killed each other.”
“What?” I exclaimed.
“Instead of taking their grievances with each other to the rest of the council, they both decided to take matters into their own hands. They each hired an assassin to murder the other one in his sleep. The irony was, they both hired the same killer. He killed them both and stole everything of value in their rooms while the poor wives were out enjoying a lovers’ tryst.”
“That’s…terrible.”
“Yeah, it is,” Shaela said, her voice soft. “And it all happened because Puck got bored.”
“How did the rest of the council find out?” I asked.
She laughed, but it was a bitter sound.
“Robin told the truth. He didn’t care if everyone knew what he’d done. Despite the grisly outcome, he thought it was hilarious. He was ousted from the council and kicked out of the school completely. Hated and shunned by everyone, he ended up using his magic to make a poor village woman love him. I am a descendant of one of their children.”
“Okay,” I said, furrowing my brow, “I still don’t get it. I mean, I know it’s a terrible story, but what does that have to do with you? You have no control over what your ancestors did or didn’t do.”
Shaela’s face lit up, a blinding smile pulling her lips up. I knew, then, that I’d said the right thing.
“The Fae have a long memory, December. But that’s not the only problem.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“A Sylph’s powers are usually inherited. I have powers that have been handed down to me from both sides of my family.”
“Okay,” I said, drawing out the word like a question.
“It’s a diluted version of Puck’s, but I did inherit his power. I can influence others to feel things. Things like love and friendship.” She leaned forward, wrapping her fingers around my wrist in an iron-like vise. “I swear, December, I haven’t used it on you. Or anyone. I would never—”
“Shaela,” I said, cutting her off as I covered her fingers with my own, “I know you haven’t.”
“You do?” she asked, her grip loosening slightly.
“I do,” I said smiling. “I trust you.”
Her eyes turned glassy as she sniffed and slumped back against the edge of her bed, releasing me.
“You’re the only one. No one wants to be my friend or date me because they would never really know if I was influencing their feelings or not. Add to that the fact that my family name is tarnished and, well…”
She shrugged, her words trailing off.
“Well, it’s their loss,” I said, wrapping my arms around her.
And it was. I counted myself lucky to have Shaela as my roommate and friend. I decided right then and there that I would never take her for granted.
Chapter 22
22
On Monday morning, things started out much the same as the week before. Professor Alfred continued his history lesson, and I saw his disparagement of my human ancestors in a new light. I tried not to take offense, but knowing he wasn’t human made his comments that much worse.
The whole period, I waffled between being insulted by his words and being mesmerized by the students around me. Several of them had their wings out and, with the Glamour that hid them from me gone, I found myself staring. Every time one of the students would shift position, the colorful appendages would flutter and catch my attention. They were truly beautiful.
Unlike my dark ones that, luckily, had not popped out unbidden.
My second period Earth Science class was different than before. It was as if my professor had been waiting for me to find out the truth and, once I had, she could actually give a lecture. My head was spinning by the end of the hour. The negative impact “the humans” had on “our” planet were extreme, and the approach the Zephyrs had taken to heal the soil and the water were minimal. She posed several alternative methods they could have used, ones which would have made a greater impact in less time.
Which made me wonder…if the Sylphids knew how to fix the Earth’s problems, why had they done nothing to help? I decided to save that question for when I worked one-on-one with Rowan.
By the time I got to Sociology, my palms were sweating. Equal parts anticipation and dread warred within me. I stood in the hall for several moments while I got my breathing under control.
It would be the first time I’d seen Easton since he brought me back to school and dropped me in Rowan’s office. Which happened right after our first, and second, kisses.
Steeling my spine, I walked through the door. All conversation stopped as twenty pairs of eyes followed my path down the last row towards Shaela. She was all smiles, as glad to see me as I was her.
Her eyes skated to the side as her chin jerked the tiniest bit. I looked past her, and I stumbled a step. Easton was sitting behind her, his eyes glued to a sheet paper he was scratching his pencil against. He hadn’t noticed me yet, so I took the time to look for an empty chair before I made a bigger fool of myself.
There was only one available seat—right next to him.
I took a deep breath and started walking again. My butt had barely touched the chair before a folded slip of paper landed on my desk. I looked across the aisle, but neither Shaela nor Easton were looking at me. I had no clue who the note was from.
As I set my book and notebook on the desktop, I slid the paper off and into my lap. Unfolding it with slow, measured movements, I read the words printed in straight, neat letters.
Are you okay?
I looked up again, this time meeting the ice-blue gaze of Easton Oberon. The corners of my mouth lifted as I gave him a slight nod. He started to smile back, but dropped it quickly and looked back down at his desk.
Confused, I faced forward. A few seats up, Tiana Avery, her navy wings fluttering behind her, was staring at me. Her eyes moved to Easton, then back, and I swore I could literally see the fires of hell burning in their dark blue depths. A shiver chased up my spine.
If she wanted to kill me with her eyes for making eye contact with Easton, I had no desire to find out what she’d do if she knew he’d kissed me. Twice.
“Good morning, class.”
Rowan’s greeting pulled everyone’s attention to the front of the room as we all chanted our response. My eyes widened as they landed on
his wings for the first time. A deep purple shot through with streaks of silver, they were quite beautiful. The light reflecting off of the silver parts was mesmerizing, and my eyes followed the sparks as Rowan crossed the room to his desk.
He cleared his throat, snapping me out of the daze I’d fallen into. My eyes darted to his, and I caught the humor in them before he composed his expression and turned to write on the blackboard. His wings dazzled me, and he knew it. Was pleased by it. I smiled at the thought.
“Okay, class, now that things are out in the open as far as Ms. Thorne is concerned, we can continue our lesson from early last week,” Rowan called out as he turned to face the class.
I blushed a little as several sets of eyes landed on me. I’d have to thank Rowan later for bringing me front and center, like that. Ugh.
“Can anyone tell me why the Zephyrs waited until they did to rescue the humans from themselves?”
A girl at the front of the class with periwinkle wings raised her hand and said, “Because they needed the humans to hit rock bottom. They needed to appear to be the ultimate saviors, so the humans would feel forever indebted to them.”
“Good answer, Ms. Welsh. As we touched on last week, the Zephyrs wanted something from the humans. Something that only the most desperate people would offer—their free will.”
Rowan’s eyes landed on me as he spoke those last words. My words. I felt oddly vindicated. All those years ago, the adults who were supposed to teach and nurture me made me feel like an idiot for having questions and doubts about the Zephyrs.
As it turns out, I was right all along. And that felt good.
Guilt raced through me, chasing away the warm feeling of vindication. I should have been devastated that I was right. The consequences of our devotion to those creatures could be catastrophic.
I, again, wondered why the Sylphids didn’t step in to help before the Zephyrs did, but I bit my tongue against the question. I was not going to ask in front of other students. My curiosity probably wouldn’t offend Rowan, as he seemed to let everything roll off his back, but the students were another story.
Especially Tiana Avery. Everything I did seemed to piss her off and I wasn’t about to give her more ammunition to use against me.
The discussion carried on until the end of class, and it was fascinating. Hearing students list the many ways Zephyrs kept us, the humans, under their control while retaining their hero personas kept me riveted as I scribbled down notes on the topic. It was all very enlightening, to say the least.
After class, Easton jumped from his chair and stalked from the room without a glance in my direction. I looked at Shaela, whose bewildered expression matched my own.
“Did he just run away from me?” I whispered as we made our way up the aisle.
She shrugged. “Boys are weird.”
I smiled and opened my mouth to give a response, but Rowan’s voice cut me off.
“Ms. Thorne, if you have a moment.”
I waved to Shaela and she returned it as she headed out into the hall. I made my way to Rowan’s desk, once again admiring his large, glittery wings.
“They’re beautiful,” I said, the words popping out before I could stop them.
Rowan chuckled, saying, “Why, thank you, dear. I know they can be a bit, distracting.”
“Sorry,” I said, blushing as I realized I was still staring.
“That’s quite alright. It’s been many, many years since the reaction to my wings has fazed me.” He paused for a moment, almost contemplative, then shook his head, saying, “But we can discuss all that later. I just wanted to tell you that I’ve scheduled a standing appointment for our mentoring sessions. Come to my office after your last class. We’ll meet daily until you’re all caught up to speed. I’m sure you have questions.”
“Only about a million,” I quipped, smiling. “Thank you, Rowan. Is four o’clock okay?”
I knew he said right after my last class, but that was gym and I needed time to shower. I did not want to meet with him every day, stinking of sweat.
“Of course, dear,” he said. “See you then.”
Math class zipped by with no real differences from before I knew the truth. Math was math. The only difference was the flutter of multicolored wings distracting me from the equations I was supposed to be solving.
After math, it was time for lunch. As I headed for the dining hall, my stomach grumbled with hunger and I rubbed my palm against it. I needed food.
The aroma of fried meats and mashed potatoes wafted from the open dining hall doors as I neared. My stomach grumbled again in anticipation of two of my favorites. I picked up my pace, trying to weave my way through the students headed in the same direction.
As I neared the doors, fingers wrapped around my bicep in a firm grip that guided me off to the side. I snatched my arm away and turned, but whatever tongue-lashing my hangry state was about to unleash on the offender died as my eyes met the familiar ones of Easton Oberon.
“Oh, hey,” I said instead.
“Have lunch with me,” he said, and it almost sounded like an order rather than a request.
I opened my mouth to object to his tone, but something in his eyes stalled my tongue. Something that told me my answer was important to him. I nodded.
“Okay.”
He smiled and, wrapping his hand around mine, pulled me down the hall. The fact that we were basically holding hands was so monumental, so exhilarating, that I almost didn’t notice we were going the wrong way. Almost.
“Uh, the dining hall is back there,” I said, jabbing a thumb over my shoulder.
He smirked. “I know that, December. I’ve only lived here my whole life.”
My brow twitched at his snarky statement. Not because of the sarcasm, but because of the meaning behind it. His whole life? Did he not have a home to go to?
“That’s a story for another day,” he said, and I suddenly remembered his specialty was emotion-reading. He could probably sense my curiosity and empathy from a mile away. “I wanted to have some time with you,” he continued, “away from prying eyes and wagging tongues.”
Of course, my mind immediately translated that into “I’m ashamed to be seen with you.” I tried to push the hurt down, to hide it in the deep recesses of my heart, but there was no hiding anything from Easton. He pulled to stop.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said, refusing to meet his eyes.
His fingers found my chin, tilting my head up until I had no choice but to make eye contact. I was sure that, even without his special ability, he’d be able to see the disappointment in my eyes.
“December, tell me.”
There was no point in bending the truth. He would know I was lying.
“I guess I’m just upset that you’re embarrassed by me.”
“What?” he shouted, then repeated at a normal volume, “What? Why would you say that?”
“You said you wanted to get me alone so no one would see us together. I only assumed—”
“First of all,” he said, cutting me off, “that is not what I said, nor was it what I meant. I don’t give two shits what anyone at this school thinks.” He paused and tilted his head, his icy blue eyes boring into mine. “Except for maybe one.”
“Oh,” was the best I could come up with as the blood pounded in my ears.
“Secondly,” he continued, “I wanted to be alone with you for your comfort, not mine. When you sit with me, people will stare. They’ll whisper to each other while making it obvious that they’re talking about us. I knew you’d hate that, so I decided to arrange a more private lunch for us.”
I nodded stupidly, my brain focused on the phrase, “when you sit with me.” Not if. When. As if it were a done deal. No doubt about it.
Easton led me to a set of stairs that I’d never seen before. He motioned for me to go ahead of him and, as I started up, his warm palm pressed into my lower back. Something about the old-fashioned gesture made me all hot and tingly in
side. Easton was playing the perfect gentleman, and I liked it. A lot.
When we reached the top of the staircase, I gasped and froze on the spot. Easton moved to stand beside me, his fingers tangling through mine. He didn’t speak. He just let me take it all in.
We were in the glass dome I noticed on the roof of the building when I first arrived at the school. Bright sunshine streamed in through the crystal ceiling and walls, setting the room ablaze as the light reflected off shiny metal statues, glass sculptures, and a sparkling stream that wound through the middle of the room.
Colorful flowers bloomed everywhere—pink, yellow, blue, and every color in between—filling the humid room with their heady fragrances. I walked farther into the room and ran my fingertips across the petals, so soft and smooth, and felt the prick of tears at my eyes.
I’d never seen a flower before and, there I was, surrounded by them. It was almost too much.
“Come on,” Easton said, tugging my hand. “Our food is going to get cold.”
I allowed him to pull me through the conservatory, my eyes drinking in the colors and shapes of the plants all around me. We followed a tile path until Easton veered off and led me through a small gap in a row of bushy plants.
On the other side, a beautiful picnic was arranged next to the small stream. A white blanket was spread across soft grass, topped with two plates of steaming food and a couple of water bottles. I dropped to my knees on the blanket but, instead of digging into the delicious-smelling food, I ran my fingers across the grass.
Easton chuckled as he stretched out across the blanket on his side, propping his chin in his palm. “I thought you might like it here,” he mused.
“It’s like a dream,” I said, trying to assume a comfortable position on the blanket while not flashing my underwear.
Awkward.
I managed to arrange my legs and I was pretty sure Easton hadn’t seen my underwear. Picking up the fork, I scooped up a modest bite of the mashed potatoes and shoveled it into mouth. Easton chuckled, and I arched a brow at him as I scooped up another bite.