“Carry on.”
It took some work, and probably longer than it should have, but having a professor watching over my shoulder made me nervous. In the end, however, I managed to cross a line between the two mortals’ webs. Mindi would do her usual stumble over the curb outside her school, rushing like always, and would discover a crumpled fifty. And Mr. Moneybags would hit every green light on the way to his important meeting.
He was a good guy. A rich guy, but one of the good ones who would have probably passed the money to Mindi on his own if they could meet and he learned her financial circumstances.
“Well done, Skylar!”
“Thanks, Professor.”
“And you as well, Liadan. Your charge is in good hands. The life of a nurse is a difficult one, especially when she’s going to school at the same time.”
Lia flushed with pleasure. When her gaze turned my way, I gave her two thumbs up and mouthed, “Good job.”
Then he passed around behind Pilar and watched her for a while. She was in the zone.
A pair of dandelion seeds fluttered through the open window. One landed on my desk, the other in front of Lia. When I raised it to my ear, it whispered in Dain’s silky voice, “We will meet in the sports field at eleven.”
A glance at Lia confirmed she’d received the same message.
Awesome. Not many folks could claim to get private lessons from a faerie lord, let alone one who directly served King Oberon. While I still didn’t fully grasp why they had such a vested interest me, or why I was the one involved with some sort of prophecy, I was thankful my friends were with me every step of the way.
* * *
After another ninety minutes of hell in Doctor Salvatore’s lecture hall, I decided I was finished with the course and filled out a drop request.
Stats was a miserable class led by an equally miserable old man without a thread of joy in his shriveled body. I pictured the ancient wizard emerging from class, returning to whatever pit of despair he called home, unzipping his human suit, and wandering free as a demonic parasite of happiness.
I’d enroll in another college over the summer to take fucking stats if that’s what it took to escape him.
Halfway across the campus, I heard the tap of heels on the cement walking path.
“Miss Corazzi, I require a moment of your time,” said one of the university’s most vexing women.
Mrs. Hansford was the worst guidance counselor in the world, and ever since Monica was kicked out of the school, it seemed like the woman had it in for me. As if it were my fault my mentor turned darkling and killed a bunch of people.
I sighed, turning. “Yes?”
“For what reason have you filed this request to drop your Statistical Methods course?”
“I don’t believe I need to provide a reason,” I hedged, trying to appear confident and unintimidated.
Mrs. Hansford sniffed daintily. “I beg to differ. After the drop deadline—which was Friday, by the way—all class withdrawals must be approved by me.”
Dammit. Drawing on my newfound maturity, I bit back what I really wanted to say and forced a small smile. “With all due respect, the class isn’t fitting with my current schedule.”
“It is a required course and you will have to make it work with your schedule. I see no conflicts.”
“I’m allowed to take it elsewhere. I’ll enroll in a community college over the summer to get the credit.” But if I was forced to take the withdrawal on my transcript, that meant I’d have to pay for it out of pocket. Shit.
“Unacceptable. We’ve changed that policy. It isn’t conducive to the PNRU learning experience to allow students to venture into…human institutions.”
“I didn’t receive any policy change notices.”
“Unsurprising.”
Despite my urgent desire to tell her to kiss my ass and remove me from the class, I held on to my temper. “Right now, my course load is too much for me to devote ample time to stats. I’m struggling to understand it. I’d like to take it next year instead.”
“Request denied.”
“You can’t do that!”
“I can and I have.”
A scathing curse was at the tip of my tongue when Simon’s calm voice came from behind me. “Actually, Dolores, that policy change hasn’t gone into effect yet.”
Dolores? A whole slew of Potter-themed jokes danced through my head at that beautiful little bit of information. It fit her too, even if she didn’t wear pink.
“I—well, I still have the final say regarding my student.”
Simon smiled politely. He was a master at pissing Hansford off. “As Skylar is now enrolled in the sentinel program, that makes her our responsibility.”
“Hardly! She is a day-school student and—”
“Technically she’s a night-school, non-battlemage student,” Sebastian cut in.
For a moment, I thought Hansford was about to say something rude, judging by the twisted look on her face, like she’d smelled something foul. It wouldn’t be the first time, but apparently, she’d learned her lesson. Pissing off Simon wasn’t a mistake a person usually repeated.
“I will speak to the provost about this.”
Simon grinned. “Go ahead.”
Watching the way Mrs. Hansford’s face positively mottled gave me more glee than it should have. She twisted around and stormed off on her stiletto heels, moving at an angry clip that had students hustling out of her way.
“All these years and that woman is still a pain in the—”
“Bash,” Simon chided.
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine, but I’ll bet you a twenty Skylar thinks the same.”
“No comment,” I said quickly.
“Traitor.” But Sebastian smiled as he said it. “She wasn’t always like this, you know.”
“Oh?” Somehow, I couldn’t imagine Mrs. Hansford as anything other than the shrewish woman she was.
“Yeah. Back when we were all students, her best friend was a raven shifter. She hung out with the Wild Hunt Club even though she wasn’t a member.”
Simon made a quiet sound of agreement. “Yes, but people change. Not everyone for the better.”
“Huh.” I glanced at the woman’s distant figure. “I wonder what happened.”
Sebastian shrugged. “No idea.”
“How’d you two know I needed your help?”
Simon massaged his temples. “The same system that sent your drop request to Dolores also sent it to us. We were about to approve it when Liadan showed up and said you were heading for an argument with a member of staff. She asked us to rescue you.”
“Technically, you did miss the deadline, but we’ll exercise judgment and postdate the request.”
“Yas!” I pumped a fist. “You guys are great!”
Sebastian chuckled. “Remember that during your first Surveillance exam. Take care, Sky.”
“Thanks again.”
Mood greatly improved, I reported to the school’s lacrosse field for magical lessons with Dain. Pilar was already there, the two in deep discussion, but they broke apart before I had a chance to hear what the topic was. Lia showed up about a minute behind me. Impulsively, I hugged her.
“Thanks.”
“Any time.” She kissed my cheek then stepped back. We turned to find Dain watching us both.
“I sense excitement unrelated to our lesson in each of you. Do tell.”
“I got out of a terrible class taught by an awful wizard.”
Dain’s brow rose but he said nothing and turned to Lia.
“After this, we’re helping a friend move. A shifter friend is taking Skylar’s place in the townhouse,” Lia explained.
“Ah, a noble cause for elation among friends. Shall we begin?”
Picking up the usual pattern from last year, Dain tested our ability to hold an individual Prismatic Shield then moved on to making us join powers and create a larger, unified shield. While tiresome—and boring—I could see our impr
ovement. Between the three of us, we could probably shield a dozen people.
Then he set up targets for Lia and Pilar to practice their aim with Faerie Fire, while he and I moved off to work on my sylph abilities.
“Our aptitude for storm magic allows us to mold electricity to our will,” Dain said. “Like so.” Static power built in the air before he flicked his wrist, manifesting a lightning whip. It sparked across the field, singing the grass where it struck.
“That. Is. Awesome!”
He quirked a brow. “It is impressive, yes, and well within your capabilities.”
“I don’t know. I’m still mastering calling down lightning. Whipping it around seems much harder.”
“It is, but it is also your nature. The human part of you sees lightning as something to fear, when it is in truth a tool to be used.”
“Can you manifest more than a whip?”
“I could cut through a door, should I wish to do so.”
“Ooh, like a blowtorch.”
“Just so. Your use is limited only by your imagination.”
“I could start someone’s heart.”
“Or stop it, depending upon your intentions. Such use requires control, else you will do more harm than good.”
“But doesn’t it burn?”
Dain took my hands, turning them palm up. Before I had a chance to realize what he was doing, he conjured a lightning ball and dropped it into my open hands. My first instinct was to drop it, snatch my hands away, but he held them firm.
“Your skin is quite safe,” he said, amused. “See?”
“You’re a jerk,” I muttered, but like a kid with a new toy, I rolled the sparking energy around in my palms, fascinated.
“We are sylphs, Skylar. Lightning does us no harm. You must understand that your human fears are baseless. They will only hinder you. Forget your preconceptions and shape it to your will.”
Under his guiding touch, his quiet encouragement and direction in my ear, I gripped the lightning and imagined it as a sword. With my luck, I’d whip myself in the face trying his trick. The crackling energy elongated and I swung it out in front of me the way I’d seen Gabe wielding Shōki.
I didn’t need a mirror to know I lacked even a fraction of his elegance.
We practiced this and other shapes, but Dain had no patience for my anxiety or wimpy confidence and urged more, coaxing me until I created a lightning whip.
“It’s all in the wrist, Lady Skylar. How can it harm you if it’s part of you?”
My chest still tightened as I bent my wrist and snapped it forward. It cracked across the field, a flash of white-blue electrical current sizzling over grass. And I wasn’t holding my face and crying.
Excellent.
I made a blade next. After that, I created an axe. This went on until Dain assigned me homework, wanting me to practice this lesson until I selected a weapon I felt at ease using.
“Why?”
A lazy smile spread over Dain’s face. “Because, a year from now, we shall spar to determine how much you’ve improved under my tutelage.”
* * *
Anji had packed most of her stuff before we arrived to help.
“Seriously?” Pilar made an unhappy sound in her throat. “Why bother to pack when we could have done this in minutes?”
Anji frowned at her. “I didn’t want to be a bother. Besides, doesn’t that all take faerie dust?”
“It does, but between the three of us, the cost is minimal.”
While I loved the hell out of Pilar, and she’d evolved into less of a bitch over the years, I didn’t think she’d ever change fully. She had a tendency to use faerie dust for everything, even her makeup.
“It was thoughtful of you,” I said on Anji’s behalf. “So at least let me help lighten the load a little.”
Using the glamour I’d learned from Dain, I tapped my wand against the heavy box in her arms. Startled, Anji pitched forward a step before she regained her balance.
“Warn a girl first.”
“Sorry.”
“What is coming with us, and what goes into the bin?” Lia asked.
“All of that is trash for the—”
Lia tapped a few bags with her wand. They all vanished, presumably down the hallway trash chute.
With four of us on the job, it took barely an hour to finish clearing out her things. Anji had collected a ton of crap in the past few years, so much that I didn’t know how she’d kept it all in her small dorm bedroom.
“Now we just need to get them all the way across campus,” Anji groaned.
“Not a problem,” Pilar said. “You are both ready?”
“Ready,” Lia and I replied.
We channeled our magic into a group glamour, covering every parcel, piece of luggage, and cardboard box in glittering faerie dust.
A second passed before the effect took root. Arachnoid legs sprang out of each box—legs of cardboard, legs of nylon from a suitcase, legs of plastic from a purple-lidded bin filled with books. Then the boxes skittered from the room.
“Damn, I love magic.” Anji bounced to me and grinned. She held open the door while Pilar led our procession into the hall.
Our little moving parade drew attention from everyone we passed, both inside and out. Several first year fae cheered and called out, asking what spells we used.
“I wonder which ones we’ll be assigned to,” Lia said in a quiet voice once we were alone again without a gawking crowd. “I received a pamphlet last week about it.”
“I forgot juniors are assigned a mentee,” I muttered. “I haven’t heard anything about it yet.”
“Lucky you,” Pilar said, surprisingly without a shred of envy in her voice. “I doubt you’ll have one unless they’re willing to open the sentinel program to more fae.”
“They’d probably allow it, but how many fae are crazy enough to follow in my footsteps?”
We all shared a little laugh over that, though I actually hoped I might inspire others to challenge the norms.
“Are any of you taking an early mentee?”
“They asked me to, but I declined,” Pilar said.
“Really?” Anji stared.
So did the rest of us. If I’d expected anyone to lead the charge and want first pick of who to have following them around for the next two years, it was Pilar.
“I’m not ready,” Pilar said after a moment. Last year she had lost her charge in a horrific accident caused by my former mentor, so I understood her reasoning in wanting to take things slow. I touched her elbow and gave a gentle squeeze. “I do not want to be responsible for another person yet. My charge is enough.”
I hugged her. “Next semester you’ll have someone amazing. I just know it.”
“Thanks, Sky.” She smiled, cleared her throat, then looked at Anji. “What about Ben? Will you be pulling double duty now or later?”
“I know he was asked, but that’s all I know. It’s up to him, really.”
“I bet he’d listen to any suggestions you have,” Lia said as we reached the townhome. She held the door for our little caravan to pass through.
It took a couple hours to help Anji unpack and settle in. Once Holly roused, we celebrated by inviting a few more friends over and ordering in Thai food. A new place had opened over the summer, close enough for hungry freshmen to reach on foot. Someone had developed a brilliant business plan. They must have kept a huge kitchen staff because we ordered one of almost everything on the menu, and they still managed to deliver within an hour.
Lia set a stack of plates on the new dining table Pilar had purchased because it had enough seats for our growing circle of friends. When it wasn’t in use by the gang, a glamour shrank it enough to fit in the kitchen nook.
“You guys must all be busy, right?” Radha asked while filling her plate. One of my earliest friends on campus, she was in her first year of her graduate program, studying to become a lawyer. “It seems like everyone but the fae are getting involved with the investigations.�
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“You’re right.” Pilar frowned. “None of our professors have mentioned it beyond warning us to be careful when out and to stick close to our sentinels.”
Anji wrinkled her nose. “Well that’s no fun.”
“I think it’s so cool that we’re getting to work on real things this year.” Ben paused, a bite of curry inches away from his mouth. “I mean…the reason behind it sucks, obviously, but the real-world application is teaching me more than the books. Unless you’re a battlemage preparing to become a sentinel, there isn’t much practical study for us.”
“Whose fault is that?” Holly shot at him. “Shouldn’t have failed your test.”
“I didn’t wanna be on the front lines,” he said, cool as a cucumber. “I’m happy enough working in the alchemy labs. Maybe someone should have held back a little rather than score the top marks.”
“Wait, you took the top scores?” I asked, swinging my gaze to Holly. “You never told us that. You just said you did good.”
“She nearly blasted Professor Jameson’s hair off, her fireball spell was so strong,” Ben boasted on her behalf. “Besides, Simon advised me to throw the test. He said if I didn’t, there would be recruiters hounding me for months after I graduated.”
Holly’s mouth dropped open. “That…asshole didn’t say a word to me about throwing the exam.”
Radha, Anji, and Lia all snickered quietly. On the other side of the table, Pilar looked scandalized, which only inspired another round of laughter.
“He knows you can handle it.” Ben shrugged. “I could spend twenty hours a week at the gym and I’ll never be built like Simon. You were fit even before the vamps got you.”
She spluttered while the rest of us chuckled. Though Ben’s words did give me pause and made me look at him in a new light. Sure, he wasn’t a tough guy, but I’d never call him weak.
“I think you could handle it,” Lia said, beating me to it.
Some of Ben’s puppy crush must have lingered, because he flushed at her compliment, covering it up by shoving food into his mouth.
The Plague Doctor: The Paranormal University Files: Skylar, Year 3 Page 11