Faerie Misborn

by Samaire Provost

  We entered the Assembly Hall and found seats.

  The headmistress came out and began to talk.

  What followed was the most boring forty-five minutes of my entire life.

  Professor Ó Baoghill proceeded to tell the whole school everything we already knew.

  And nothing else.

  “Maybe she doesn’t know more?” I whispered to Liesl.

  “I don’t think she does,” Liesl whispered back.

  Oh, brother.

  Liesl and I spent nearly the whole time whispering back and forth and thumb wrestling. It was a long forty-five minutes.

  Walking out, Renée scowled at us in mock anger.

  I spied a bright pink and flaming orange color out the nearest window as we passed it. “The sun is setting. Who wants to go watch it?”

  “I’ve got an essay to write,” Renée said.

  Liesl yawned. “Where do you get your energy?”

  “She’s of the royal line,” said Chance. “They have boundless energy.”

  I grinned. At least there was something useful about my heritage.

  “Okay, don’t wait up for me, Liesl; I also love to stargaze.”

  She gave me a thumbs up and walked toward our dorm room staircase, still yawning.

  “Well, the Evanescence essay won’t write itself, so, bye! See you tomorrow,” Renée turned and walked in a different direction.

  I stood and watched her go.

  I glanced back out of the window facing west. The pink was getting darker.

  “We’d better go on up; the sunset will fade soon,” Chance said behind me in a murmur.

  I turned in surprise, smiling. “Oh! I didn’t know you were coming.”

  He grinned. “Is the invitation still open?”

  “Of course,” I said. I looked around the upper stories. “Do you know the shortest route to the top of the castle?”

  “Sure. Follow me.” He took my hand, which surprised me a bit, and turned to a smaller staircase I’d never used.

  We took the stairs two at a time, racing each other to beat the setting of the sun.

  “Ha ha ha!” I laughed as I ran up the steps.

  Chance grinned as he followed, always staying a step behind.

  Hmmm...

  Chapter Thirty

  Bombing

  We’d gone up several stories when a massive explosion shook the staircase, and I nearly fell. Aspen and Tundra suddenly appeared, whining and sniffing the air.

  Chance’s hawk also appeared on his shoulders and let out a loud squawk.

  “Careful!” Chance’s strong hands encircled my waist as I tipped backwards.

  “OH!” My heart thundered in my chest and a huge lance of fear pierced my head.

  He set me firmly on the upper step, and I put my hand to the iron railing and grasped it tightly.

  “You okay now?” he asked, looking into my eyes.

  “Y–yes, I think so. What was that?”

  “No idea, but ...” A second explosion shook the castle, and a few stones fell from the upper staircases, dropping down the center of the portico.

  I hung on the railing and was able to stay upright.

  Chance crouched slightly, his balance impressive.

  When the rocking from the blast subsided, he leaned over the banister and called down, “Everyone okay?”

  A few voices drifted up from below, including a scream.

  He turned to me, “Come on. We’d better get down there and see if we can help.”

  As we descended the stairs, my two wolves following, I wondered out loud, “What made those explosions?”

  “No idea,” he answered. “But it can’t be good.”

  When we reached the main floor, we saw rubble was everywhere.

  Various familiars cuddled beside their people, licking cheeks and making sounds of distress as each one’s person moaned on the ground. In a few cases where victims lay still and unconscious, the familiar hovered over them, trying to shield them from further harm.

  Stone and dust and other objects had fallen from the upper levels and hit several students, and in one case, a professor. They lay on the floor, groaning.

  Liesl came running. “Is everyone okay? I felt a ... oh!” she saw the injured and ran to the nearest one: a boy bleeding from his temple.

  “Come on,” Chance murmured, and we raced help others.

  The headmistress hurried out of a hallway, her hair in curlers, several nurses in tow. They rushed to aid the injured.

  Chance had been helping the professor hit by falling rubble, and beside him, I helped a girl whose shoulder had been hit.

  “I think it’s broken,” I whispered to her. She stared into my eyes, her face covered in dust, two tears running down her cheeks making wet trails in the dusty grime that covered her.

  One boy was unconscious, his hand still grasping Liesl’s tightly. She ran beside the gurney that bore him, and her charge was first to be taken to the hospital wing.

  “He’s in my morning class,” murmured the girl I was helping. “I ate dinner near him just an hour ago.” Fresh tears ran down her cheeks.

  “I ... I’m sure he’ll be okay. The doctors are wonderful, and the nurses, too. I’m sure ...” I choked and could not continue.

  A new gurney came for her, and I busied myself helping load her on.

  She clutched at my hand. “Don’t let go ...” she whispered as she lay back.

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  It was awful. Ten people had been injured, several quite severely. The hospital wing was busy.

  We all followed the people we’d been helping on their short journey to the doctor’s large room.

  Up in the hospital wing, we all worked to assist, whether it was continuing to hold our patient’s hands, or holding an I.V. bottle high in the air.

  The doctor’s triage meant my patient had to wait almost an hour for help, after they hooked her up to fluids.

  It was amazing to see the healers all hard at work, rushing to save lives.

  I wondered in the back of my head why such mundane methods were used to help faefolk, but after a few minutes of thought it made sense: The magic taught at Titania Academy was mostly elemental and native, and used wild means to accomplish needed tasks.

  I glanced over at Chance and smiled. He had crawled up into bed and lay beside the professor he’d helped; he held her hand, her fingers curled around his palm even though she appeared unconscious.

  Liesl’s patient was at the far end of the room, having come in first. Several doctors worked on him frantically.

  Liesl’s eyes found me across the long room. She was crying.

  Another student, an older girl, came and joined Liesl, and held her hand.

  Support for those giving support.

  It was a long night. We stayed for hours.

  “Faefolk always lend aid,” Chance said. “Many of the fae heritages are acutely in need of touch and comfort when they are in deep distress. All of us need it to a degree.”

  The tears on my cheek had dried a while ago. A nurse had brought us all hot cocoa and hot buttered scones. Chance and I sat eating and drinking the best cocoa I’d ever had in my life.

  “I don’t think humans know about that kind of magic,” I said haltingly.

  “That,” said Chance, “is a real shame. Many more lives could be saved.”

  We sat in silence for a long time. On one side, we held the hands of our charges, who slept fitfully, having been bandaged and ministered to. On our other sides, we held the cups of cocoa. Our warm buttered scones sat on small plates on the tables beside us.

  It was calm and quiet, and the lighting had been lowered until all that remained was the glow from the lamps on each small bedside table, a warm and cozy yellow light.

  Liesl’s charge had not made it. The first-year boy had been hit directly in the head. It had taken him hours to finally perish.

  He held on a long time.

  Liesl lay, finally asleep, curled
in a ball, on the fluffy shag rug at our feet. The boy’s body had been moved to another room, and his parents had been summoned. Liesl had cried for an hour, and silent but copious tears still stained her face.

  It was heartbreaking.

  After the first half hour, several guards had rushed in to whisper in the headmistress’ ear, and she’d hurried out of the hospital with them, a shocked look on her face.

  Another professor was already taking her place when I glanced back at her charge.

  The Academy, even the entire fae world, took this responsibility very seriously. No patient was left alone while in the hospital. They all had people beside them, holding their hands, and in some cases, holding their whole body.

  They heal faster. That’s beautiful.

  I glanced at the far wall of the large hospital room. A line of people stood there, watching us all, waiting for a chance to provide healing touch. Their faces showed an eagerness to help.

  Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.

  About midnight, nurses came in with cots and blankets, and we moved into those. They were set alongside each bed, and I saw there was already room for the cots, and room to walk between each cot and bed.

  They’ve already thought this out. Heck, they’ve probably done this countless times.

  The explosions had been terrible. A lot of people had been hurt. One student had died. I kept thinking, I hope this is rare. I really do.

  When I’d come to the school, at Chance’s urging, I’d assumed it was a safe place, a place of learning and refuge.

  Rare would be really good.

  The next morning, we were roused in time for class, given special breakfasts, and sent on our way. We were assured the patients had healed sufficiently and would be all right. We were invited to return for a visit.

  I yawned as I made my way to the first class. It would be a long day.

  Later on, I learned that those who’d ministered to patients in this way were considered heroes of the day.

  The professors and other students clapped as Liesl and I entered each class that day.

  I gave them a teary-eyed smile for the first few classes, ‘til I got used to it.

  What a culture.

  I was growing to really love it. A lot.

  That afternoon, another assembly was called. This time I was eager.

  “I hope they tell us what happened,” I said. “No one I’ve asked has any clue.”

  “Mmmm, oh. They have a special security system in place at the school,” said Chance, joining us as we walked in to the Assembly Hall. “All the entrances and exits to the school are instantly sealed in times of violence, attack, and most emergencies. For the students’ protection.”

  I was shocked. “Uhhh, okay. What about during a fire?”

  “That’s usually not going to happen, as the school has a spell on it to shower water when smoke or flames are detected,” Renée said, joining us as well. “Also, in case of sudden temperature rise. But if the sprinklers don’t work, the doors are not locked in case of fire.” She glanced at Chance. “This is the only case they are not force-locked, am I correct, Chance?”

  He nodded. “You are indeed correct.” He glanced at her. “What happened to you, by the way? We didn’t see you after the explosions. I was worried.”

  “I was actually locked outside,” Renée said. “The evening was so lovely, and Holly was right: The sunset was brilliant. So I took my essay paper and went out on the balcony of my room to work on it.”

  “Oh, no,“ Chance murmured.

  “Oh, yes,” said Renée. “The first explosion occurred, and the balcony doors clicked shut, then locked in place. I actually spent half the night out there, before someone came to check on me.”

  My eyes were wide listening to this.

  “You have a balcony?” asked Liesl.

  Renée threw her head back and laughed. “Yes, third-years and on up have larger dorm rooms and balconies.”

  Amazing.

  We found seats together. The anticipation in the room was palpable.

  We didn’t have long to wait.

  The headmistress walked out, and a huge murmuring began rippling through the room. She put both her hands out, palms down, motioning for silence, and the murmuring ceased.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Now, as you all know, our school suffered two explosions yesterday evening. We began investigating at once, and we finally have preliminary results to present to you, our student body.”

  You could’ve heard a pin drop, the large room was so quiet. Everyone leaned forward in their seats in expectation.

  The headmistress took a deep breath. “The explosions were a result of an attack on the castle, which took the form of several bombs.”

  The room exploded in chaos. It was a good ten minutes before everyone settled back down and she could continue.

  “The two bombs damaged a section of wall on the castle exterior. Luckily, that area of the school is not currently in use, because of the current size of the student body.

  “Huh?” I murmured.

  Chance leaned in, “Fewer students have been enrolling at Titania Academy these past few years,” he whispered.

  I nodded in understanding.

  The headmistress was speaking again.

  “We have determined that the culprit who launched the bombs at our school was an ally of The Oak King faction.”

  What the ...?

  Chance had become tense next to me. I glanced over at Renée and saw she looked very stressed.

  “The minister of education is teaming up with the queen. Several dozen investigators and additional school guards are being assigned; they should be here tomorrow morning. And ...” the headmistress paused and took a deep breath, “the king will be visiting us next week.”

  The students jumped up again, roaring in happiness. Chaos took over again.

  The headmistress tried to regain control of the student body, but it was no use. After a good twenty minutes of trying, she finally gave up.

  “YOU ARE DISMISSED,” she called out, and the students cleared the room, heading to the exits in an orderly yet loud exodus.

  Chance and Renée motioned for us to follow them, and we made our way up to the second-year dorm staircase. It was so loud from everyone’s excited talking, that it was just easier this way.

  “Come,” Chance motioned us up to his dorm room.

  Liesl and I had never seen the second-year room. They were niccceeeeee!

  “Okay,” said Chance, closing the door behind us to allow us some privacy. “So, you two may be wondering why everyone is so excited.”

  Liesl grinned, “I know.”

  “Well, Holly doesn’t, so we should explain,” Renée said, smiling at Liesl.

  Chance turned to me. “First, you should understand, there are two ... ‘branches’... of royalty in the fae world. The first is the queen’s line.”

  “Our school is named for the queen,” said Renée. “She’s been queen for several thousand years. Queen Titania.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  Liesl turned to me, “She’s immortal, and she rules the fae world, but benignly, similarly to the queen of England.”

  “And then,” said Chance, “There’s the other royal line. And the first thing you must know is that, they aren’t parallel. Not in the least.”

  “Queen Titania rules the fae civilization,” explained Renée. “The more mundane parts of the fae culture.”

  “The two kings rule the enchanted side of the fae world,” said Chance. “And they are rarely seen. Very rarely.”

  “The last time the Holly King came to the school was ...” Renée thought for a minute.

  “My grandmother says he visited while she was here,” said Liesl. “She’s pretty old.”

  Chance nodded. “It’s been more than sixty years.”

  My eyes grew wide. “So, I assume this king is immortal, too?”

  “Yes,” said Renée. “And you should know that the Oak
King has never visited. Only the Holly King.”

  “He’s the most popular,” whispered Liesl, giggling.

  Renée put her finger to her lips and smiled at Liesl.

  “Anyway,” said Chance, “That’s why everyone is so excited about him coming for a visit. Most faefolk have never even seen him.”

  Amazing.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Melancholy

  That evening in the dining hall, Jessica and Naomi and a handful of their friends walked by as I entered the room ten minutes early. The others weren’t there yet, so I stood just inside the doors, scouting out a spot that would fit us all. It had to be roomy enough for all four of us.

  “Hi, Holly,” Jessica said, winking as she walked past.

  Naomi grinned at me with a conspiratorial look on her face, moving her eyebrows up and down, as if we shared a juicy secret.

  What are they up to?

  Jessica walked a few more feet from me, then turned to face me. “You should ask about your bastard heritage when the king’s entourage arrives. I hear there’s a bunch of minor royals he travels with,” she said, her tone sickly sweet and mocking.

  “Yeah, maybe you can find a lower footman to marry who’s the third cousin to an out-of-favor Baron,” said Naomi. “He could show you the ropes ...” she dissolved in giggles, and Jessica joined her.

  Chance strode in then, a glower on his face. “You two were cautioned by the headmistress. Do you want to detained?”

  “No matter,” said Jessica. “Naomi and I were just chatting with our little ... friend here. Right, Holly?” She stepped closer to me, brazen as a troll.

  I turned my back on her without a word, looking at Chance instead.

  A much more pleasant sight.

  Chance stared at the two girls behind me, his eyes going wide. “Hey. HEY!”

  I swung around in time to see Jessica’s upraised fist stopped by Chance’s arm.

  “MISS PENNER!” The headmistress Professor Ó Baoghill came striding over from the front of the dining hall, her robes fluttering behind he she walked so rapidly. “Detention! For the whole month! And you shall miss the king’s visit.”