“Oh, please, Miss Ó Cuilinn, please give us another chance. I am working hard to make things better, and now we have Miss Page to help us,” she gestured to Renée sitting on the floor.
The third-year girl was tall, and her long legs splayed out sideways as she sat at my feet.
She looked up at us when the headmistress mentioned her name, and nodded.
“Holly,” said Renée. “I promise I am going to do everything I can to help you, to make things better, to help you in your situation.”
The headmistress held up her hand. “Miss Page, I think it will be vitally important not to make things worse. I do not think we should be hinting that there is anything special or out of the ordinary with Miss Ó Cuilinn. That could make her more of a target. Remember, we must not only keep her secrets, we must make it seem as if she doesn’t even have any secrets. She is an ordinary, intelligent, wonderful young lady who deserves to be treated well. That is how we should approach things.”
Renée nodded. “Yes, headmistress. That’s a good idea.”
“I am curious about this secrecy spell, Renée. I think it would make me feel better if I knew what it entailed,” I said. “It would make me feel safer.” I fixed the headmistress with a pointed look.
“Renée, why don’t you tell Miss Ó Cuilinn, in your own words, everything that occurred with you and I, before she and Mr. Mac Craith entered the room,” the headmistress said quietly, then folded her hands.
I stared at Renée expectantly. I did not feel she was an ally nor a friend.
“Well,” said Renée. “The headmistress grabbed me out of the crowd and pulled me into her office.”
I glanced at the headmistress.
She nodded. “I did exactly that. I took her by the arm and pulled her into this office. She did not want to come at all. She fought me, but I am stronger than I look.”
Renée took a deep breath. “So, then she pushed me into the chair and slammed the door behind me. The headmistress spoke in a raised, angry voice. She asked, ‘WHY WOULD YOU SPEAK THAT WAY TO ANOTHER STUDENT? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?’ and I got angry. I told the headmistress all the reasons we hated Holly.” Renée glanced at me apologetically.
I nodded for her to continue.
“It was for all the reasons the headmistress said, plus I was angry that Holly had fought with Jessica and my sister Naomi. Angry that Jessica had gotten her nose hurt. Holly,” Renée glanced at me, “I know Jessica and Naomi hurt you much worse, and that they were picking on Liesl, and that Jessica deserved to have her nose punched. I understand all that, but I was still angry.” Renée looked down at her fingers, which were entwined together.
“I guess I just pushed aside these reasons you had for fighting with Jessica. Although now I think I would have down the same.” She smiled and balled her hand into a fist, then mimicked punching someone.
“Keep to the narrative, Miss Page,” the headmistress reminded her.
“Oh, yes. Um,” said Renée. “Then the headmistress was quiet for a few minutes, and I just sat in the chair. Then the headmistress said, ‘You’re of the Woodland Pixie Fae, aren’t you,’ and I told her I was. Although the last pixie in my line was my great grandmother. Then the headmistress asked if she could perform the Revealing Glyph over me, and I consented.”
“So then, the headmistress stood and walked around her desk and made the glyph over my head, and I glowed blue, so she knew the pixie woodland strain was still binding.” Renée took a deep breath.
“Then the headmistress asked me if I would allow her to perform the secrecy spell on me, so that I might better understand you, Holly.” Renée glanced at me again and smiled what looked like a genuine smile.
I could not believe it.
Her smile was so bright and beautiful I couldn’t help myself, I smiled back.
This is the girl who seemed like she hated me just a few hours ago.
“So, I gave permission for the headmistress to perform the secrecy spell on me. So, she did. It took a few minutes. I don’t remember any of the words.” She looked up at the headmistress.
“Some spells are forgotten after they’ve been overheard because they have extra protection placed on them when they’re first created,” said the headmistress. “Much like the spell to summon your familiars.”
I put my hand down and buried it in the coarse fur of my familiar wolf on my right. The other leaned against my leg. Her meaning was plain: I love you.
Renée was talking again.
“After the secrecy spell was performed, the headmistress sat back down and divulged the secrets about you, Holly. And my eyes were opened.”
I blinked. “What do you mean?”
The headmistress held up her finger. “Miss Page, remember that Miss Ó Cuilinn is not aware of most of the secrets I told you. She knows where she grew up, but little else. She knows that she is descended of a royal fae line, but she knows no specifics. She knows her mother’s name, but not her father’s. Remember.”
Renée nodded. “I remember. There’s little else to say except, you and Chance and Liesl knocked and entered the room just a few minutes after your secrets were revealed to me.”
Renée looked down, then up at me. “Holly, please forgive me for what I said. It was cruel and wrong to say that to you, to anyone, really. I want to help you with the struggles you’ve been having. I will fight by your side.” Tears were forming in her eyes again.
“I don’t want any fighting,” I said. “Can we just stop with the fighting?” I pleaded.
“We will try,” said the headmistress.
“Okay, well, thank you for telling me what happened, Renée. I will admit to being very curious. And I really hope that you are being sincere.”
“I am,” Renée said solemnly. “I swear on my life I am.”
I turned to the headmistress. “I have one question.”
The headmistress raised her eyebrows
“What,” I asked, “secrets about me did you disclose to Renée?”
Chapter Twenty
Secrets Suck
I stomped away from the headmistress’s office, a huge scowl on my face.
“Holly, wait up,” called Liesl.
Chance and Renée hurried after me, too.
They all trailed after me, but gave me a wide berth. They stayed about ten paces behind, but did not let me out of their sight.
I stomped out the main front doors of the school, fuming.
How dare she?!!
I stopped in my tracks, remembering.
I thought back to the headmistress’s face when I’d asked what secrets she’d told Renée about me.
It had been a look of resignation, but right before that, right at the very beginning, I remember a look ...
A fleeting look ...
Of fear.
The headmistress was afraid.
I replayed the scene in my mind
“What secrets about me did you disclose to Renée?”
“Miss Ó Cuilinn, I cannot tell you that,” the headmistress replied.
“EXCUSE ME?” I raised my voice despite myself.
The headmistress’s face remained calm.
I stood and began to pace.
My two familiars began to walk back and forth after me, their paws faintly click-clacking on the polished stone.
I stopped, bending to pet them and hug them, whispering love in their ears, asking them to sit and stay.
They obeyed me.
I loved how intelligent they were, how responsive and protective they were. They were fast becoming quite precious to me.
I felt tears spring to my eyes as I hugged them, the white wolf fur brushing against my cheek.
Get a hold of yourself, Holly.
I rose and turned back to the headmistress, sitting there behind her desk looking just as pleased as she could with herself.
I struggled to keep my voice calm.
“You mean to tell me that, secrets, personal secrets, about me, my parents, and m
y heritage, are known to Renée and you and to goodness knows how many other people here, but I am not allowed to know these secrets?”
The headmistress nodded.
I took a deep breath.
“Those are my secrets. They are mine. MINE.”
The headmistress remained silent, hands folded together in front of her, fingers intertwined. I was fast learning what this meant: It was as though she were bolting the gates of a fortress. She would tell me nothing.
A slow boil was occurring in my mind, like a volcano, a hot bubbling of emotion.
ARRGGGHHHH! I wanted to scream.
But outwardly, I remained calm.
Calm and cool.
“Why not?” I asked. “Why can’t you tell me? I am not about to blab my own secrets to the world, and the world already seems to know them! In fact, everyone seems to know more about me than I know myself!”
“I sympathize, Miss Ó Cuilinn, believe me. I really do,” the headmistress said. “And no, the whole fae world doesn’t know more about you than you do yourself. In fact, there are very few individuals who know your secrets.”
I tapped my foot impatiently.
Cool, Holly. Stay cool ...
I knew from growing up the way I had that it helped if those around me did not know I was upset.
I took a deep breath.
“Okay then,” I said. “I’m curious. Who knows my secrets?”
The headmistress remained silent. Then: “I think that it would be best if I not tell you that.”
“But you’ve already revealed that Renée knows!”
Calm, cool, be cool ...
She pursed her lips.
“All right. First off, the education board knows. The fae counsel knows. I know. Miss Page knows. Mr. Mac Craith knows. Your professors all know. The ...”
I heard a soft groan come from Chance.
I held up my hand. “Excuse me? Chance knows?”
“I ...” the headmistress looked troubled. “Miss Ó Cuilinn, Mr. Mac Craith is given thorough dossiers on every student he is sent to collect. That is normal operating procedure. He cannot do his job without this knowledge.”
“And what, exactly, is Chance’s job? I asked, my voice coming out steelier than I would have liked.
The headmistress took a deep breath. “Mr. Mac Craith is tasked as a Collector, Miss Ó Cuilinn.”
My head tipped to the side. “What?”
“He is employed by the school to collect fae children who have ... gone missing,” the headmistress said.
“I’m sorry. ‘Gone missing’? Missing from where?” I asked.
“Missing from the fae world,” said the headmistress. “Children, though it happens rarely, sometimes go missing from our world and are lost in human society. For different reasons, this does happen. Mr. Mac Craith is ... very good ... at finding these children. At connecting with them. At bringing them back home to the FaeFolk.”
OH, HOLY HELL.
“He sounds like a gangster,” I said.
“No, not a ... Miss Ó Cuilinn, he is especially skilled at making a personal connection so that the children are most likely to return with him, but they ... you ... are never obligated. Never forced. Mr. Mac Craith is especially gifted in this regard.”
I started pacing again.
“Miss Ó Cuilinn, try to understand. Children of the FaeFolk have magical gifts, and these gifts often manifest themselves in the human world at ... inconvenient times. This puts the fae children in danger. We tried different types of fae as Collectors, but none have been as adept as FaunFolk at this particular task; that is why we use them almost exclusively now. They know how to gain a child’s trust in a way most strangers who speak of the magical realm cannot. It can be ... a lot to take in, even for the older recruits.”
I shook my head, trying to take it all in.
“Chance is ... what did you call him? FaunFolk?” I asked.
“That is correct,” the headmistress replied.
I looked over at Chance, who grinned at me sheepishly and waved his fingers.
First-years were just learning all about the different kinds of FaeFolk. There were so many kinds it was hard to keep them all straight.
And each type had its own attributes and gifts.
I tried to remember back to the class last week, we had just been learning about ...
I looked up.
“FaunFolk. Lineage from the fauns. Is that right?” I asked.
Chance nodded.
“Attributes include,” I said slowly, remembering, ticking off the attributes on my fingers one by one. “Sympathetic magic, companionship, ease of the mind, friendship, ...”
I tried to think. What were the other ones?
“Musically inclined, easy-going. ...” I shrugged. “I don’t remember the rest. I’ll have to study up on them more from my textbook.”
Chance grinned.
The headmistress nodded. “The point is, he needs a complete dossier on each child to be able to do his job properly. Do you understand?”
I sighed.
“I guess so. But it doesn’t feel right that he knows secrets about me that I don’t. I mean, what could it hurt to tell me? I’m fae, I was lost, but now I’m back, and I am a part of the fae world, right?”
The headmistress, Chance, and Renée all nodded.
“Well, then, why not tell me?” I pleaded. “I know it would make things easier for me.”
It was the headmistress’s turn to sigh.
“Miss Ó Cuilinn, I know you think that knowing these secrets about yourself would make things easier for you,” she said. “But it would not. It definitely would not.”
I stared at her. I had never felt more frustrated in my entire life, and this included the time I was stuck in one of the downtown butcher’s back cupboards for hours, having gotten stuck there while attempting to liberate a fully cooked honey-baked ham for a holiday dinner with Aunt Clare three years back.
“Try to understand, Miss Ó Cuilinn, said the headmistress. “If I revealed ... if anyone revealed the secrets to you, it would be placing you in grave danger.”
I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, and turned to see Renée nodding vigorously.
“Really?” I said to her.
“I don’t mean to upset you further, Holly, but she’s right. When she told me the secrets, it sent my heart racing.”
“You’re not making things easier, you know,” I said in exasperation.
“Sorry.”
“Miss Ó Cuilinn, I am withholding this information for your own protection. Until you know more, perhaps after a few more years in the Academy classes ...” the headmistress said.
I whipped my head around. “HUH? More classwork? How will that ...?”
She held up her hand. “Let me continue. The decision not to tell you the secrets was not made by me.”
I blinked.
I felt stunned.
It’s like there’s a whole committee that’s deciding my life for me.
I shook my head slowly.
She continued. “The decision has been made by the Regent himself. And he has made it known that when you have learned all about fae society, magic, rules, and all the rest – all about protecting yourself, then, and only then, possibly, he will allow you to know.”
I sputtered.
“It is for your own protection, Miss Ó Cuilinn,” said the headmistress. “Try to understand, your heritage can make you a target. I have already said too much as it is.”
I thought for a minute.
“And Chance,” I gestured toward him. “Has he been sworn to secrecy as well?”
“Chance is not like Miss Page. He has had other restraints placed on him,” the headmistress said.
I took a deep breath, hoping to calm down and understand more.
“And it’s my royal lineage that’s the danger? Then am I not already in danger, just from my hair and eye color?” I asked, lifting a lock of my platinum hair up.
&
nbsp; “This is a good example of what I’m talking about, Miss Ó Cuilinn,” said the headmistress. “They see your hair and eyes, and treat you the way they have been. But they have no idea what line you’re descended from. It could be some moldy old distant duke that you’re related to. That’s all it would take to give you that coloring, and the duke’s line could have died out centuries before and be of absolutely no consequence.”
AHA.
“Are you implying I’m from a much more recent or esteemed royal line?” I asked.
The headmistress looked incredibly uncomfortable.
“Well,” she said, rising from her desk, “I think I’ve said enough, uh, Miss Ó Cuilinn. I think we will end this conversation here, and ... uh ... I will be counting on Mr. Mac Craith and, uh ... Miss Page to ... uh ... greatly aid in your protection. Isn’t that correct?” She nodded at Chance and Renée as she herded us all out the door.
Chance nodded, “I will protect her with my life.”
“Absolutely, headmistress, said Renée. “I will do everything in my power to help and protect Holly, I swear it.
“But ...,” I protested as I was rushed out of the headmistress’s office. “I want to know more ...”
The door clicked behind us.
I turned and pounded on the massive wooden expanse.
“YOU CAN’T DO THIS!”
“Holly,” Chance put his hand on my shoulder, “It’s no use. She’s not going to budge ...”
I whirled on him, my fists balled, an angry glower on my face.
His concerned expression held my tongue.
I turned and stomped away from the headmistress’s office, a huge scowl on my face.
Chapter Twenty-One
A Shooting Star
“Miss Ó Cuilinn.”
I stopped in my tracks. I had stomped away from the office and made it to the front doors of the school, and out.
The headmistress’s voice stopped me halfway down the stairs.
I turned and waited for her to walked down to meet me.
“Miss Ó Cuilinn. I forgot to tell you,” said the headmistress. “The children who took part in the bullying earlier today will all receive black marks on their academic records, which seriously damages their prospects for entry into dozens of coveted programs. And also, they have been warned that a second incident will result in immediate expulsion.”
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