by Ember Hollis
“I really love it,” I admit. “But I don’t think I can afford it,” I say sadly after glancing at the price tag. Even if I’d still had access to my mom’s credit cards, this little beauty would have been above my means.
Unless, of course, I stole it.
A little of the old rush of excitement that I always felt while shoplifting creeps upon me, but I shake it off with a firm reminder to myself that such things are below someone who’s angel-born. Besides also being a bad thing to do.
“You’re from that school up on the hill, aren’t you? Then tell me your name, dear,” the old lady asks when I nod. “If you love it that much, it must be meant for you. I can put it on your tab and you can pay it off gradually. I know where you live, after all,” she says with a chuckle. “All you need to do is give me a good recommendation, deal?”
I open my mouth to object, but end up nodding. The temptation to own the dress is just too great, and I can’t wait to see what Ba—Noah thinks when he sees me in it. “Very well. Put it down for Heaven Ramsey.”
“Heaven Ramsey… such a nice name… oh wait, hang on!” the little old lady says when she tries to ring up my purchase. “You’re already in the school’s records of students, and according to this, you have an account with them!”
She shows me the display of her old-fashioned cash register, and I see my initials followed by several ‘X’s in a line. There’s five of them in a row, and when I place my hand on the register like she shows me to, I see a surprisingly high amount of money. “That… that can’t be right…”
“Well, it’s under your name, dear,” the old lady laughs. “Maybe you’ve been tutoring or helping out around the school? Pandora pays her staff very well.”
All at once, I know what it is. It must be part of the ‘perks’ that I was to receive in return for being the Unicorn Whisperer. Chiros had mentioned it, but I hadn’t realized just how lucrative the job was. “Yeah, actually, you’re right.”
The old lady smiles and starts wrapping the dress up in thin paper, before placing it in a box. “Forgive me for prying dear,” she says after a while, “But you seem to be new around here too.”
“I am,” I admit. “I’ve been here for less than a month.”
“So what is this dress for?” she glances up at me with bright, curious eyes and wiggles her eyebrows. “A date?”
“Bacchadelia actually,” I say, in what I hope is an offhand manner. I doubted the old lady is in any way naive, given her age, but it still feels a little awkward to talk about the festival with her.
“Really?” she gasps. “But you’re hardly eighteen yet are you? Don’t tell me you’re allowed to participate?” she scrutinizes me from head to toe while her gnarly hands skillfully tie a beautiful silk lilac ribbon around the dress box.
“Well, I’ll be eighteen this year,” I say, with a shrug, trying to suppress a blush. “Besides, everyone is required to participate.”
“Because of the unicorns being sent away?”
I stare at the little old lady, suddenly feeling uneasy. Hadn’t Pandora mentioned that some people didn’t approve of the academy and might want to hurt it?
“Oh, don’t worry,” the old lady replies. “Most of us in Themis rely on Pandorax for our customers, and we often see the unicorns pass through town when they need new shoes from the blacksmith. I just mentioned them because we haven’t seen any of them of late. And in fact, I went to Pandorax myself too you know, many, many years go, when I was young. And I was quite a beauty then, just like you,” she says, patting her hair daintily. It’s completely gray and white, and coupled with how hunched over and wrinkled the old lady is, I find it hard to believe her, though I still smile and nod.
“Yes, those were wonderful days. I had suitors every year, begging me to enjoy Bacchanalia with them. But I was only allowed to attend after I reached second year, though,” she continues when I don’t reply. “I’m surprised Pandora’s become so… lenient,” she clicks her tongue and gives me a disapproving glance.
The judgment in her voice is rankling, and though I was initially reluctant to take part in the festival, I find myself feeling defensive about it now.
“She’s only doing what she has to,” I say. “But we’re not puppets. We decide ourselves what to do during the events.”
“Well, if you don’t want to go along with all that debauchery, I can put a spell on the dress to protect you,” the old lady offers conspiratorially. “A lovely girl like you should wait for the right boy and not squander herself just because someone gives you a free pass to do so.”
Whoa. The old lady was getting a little too pushy for my taste now. “Thanks, but I can take care of myself,” I say, giving her the fake smile I used to give Mom when I had absolutely no intention of doing what she asked but didn’t want a fight.
“Are you sure?” she replies, peering up at me skeptically. “You may think you’re ready, but speaking from experience, most boys you meet at your age usually aren’t worth giving yourself up for. Plus, I’m not sure you realize what could happen after you do something like that. A pretty girl like you really can’t afford to—”
“I understand,” I interrupt, annoyance coursing through me. Who did this lady think she was? “Thanks for the offer and the dress, but I think I’ll take it as it is. I can’t wait to wear it."
The old lady’s eyes narrow and she places a hand on the box, stopping me from taking it. “Well. If you change your mind, my shop is right here, Heaven,” she says. “I open at all hours of the day and night time too.”
“Okay,” I force another smile to my face. “I really have to go now, so… take care and thanks again!”
Quickly, I grab the box and make my way out of the tiny shop. Once I’m out, I wait till I’m across the street before glancing back at it. Almost immediately, my eyes catch a glimpse of white through the fuzzy glass of the old diamond-paned iron windows. An odd prickle of discomfort rises across the back of my neck, and I quickly look away.
“Stop imagining things, Heaven, she’s just replacing the dress on the model,” I mutter, as I hurry away to find Sybil and Noah.
Chapter 16: Heaven
As the week of the festival approaches, the castle descends into a flurry of activity. Decorations go up seemingly overnight, and I find the castle transformed into a fairy land with fragrant flowers entwining its pillars, and boughs of autumnal leaves and pine cones hanging from the ceilings. At first I think that the teachers have been hard at work decorating the castle, but when I find grass growing under my feet as I walk down a hallway between classes, I realize that the castle is putting up its own decorations, all by itself.
I’ve just stopped to take a closer look at how a cluster of pink and white carnations are growing straight out of the woodwork of a grandfather clock when I sense someone coming up beside me and whip around.
“My God, Bane, you freaked me out again!” I clutch at my books and give the silvered-haired Horseman a heavy frown. “What’s up? I didn’t miss another tutoring session did I?” I try to find the blue sheet of paper that we’ve been using to schedule our sessions with, but I’m so unnerved by his sudden appearance that I only succeed in toppling all my books onto the floor, narrowly missing his feet.
Bane narrows his eyes at me, then sidesteps the mess and leans his palm against the wall beside me, pinning me against the grandfather clock.
“Have you been telling people that we’re dancing together during the Masquerade?” he snarls.
“W-what?” I gasp, completely taken aback by his accusation. “No, I haven’t, I have no ide—” I stop abruptly, remembering the encounter I’d had with Christian, and how he literally announced to everyone that I liked Bane. My cheeks begin to burn in embarrassment, and Bane’s eyes narrow further, while I stare at him guiltily.
“I see.”
“No, it was a misunderstanding,” I begin hurriedly. “I totally didn’t…”
Bane’s eyes flicker and I immediately stop talkin
g, wondering what exactly Christian and the others have been saying about me. What if he takes my blush and outright denial as confirmation that it’s all true?
I lick my lips nervously as I try to recall exactly what we’d said that night in the cafeteria so I can explain it all away, and Bane’s eyes flick down to them, tracking the motion.
All of a sudden, the air between us seems to grow heavy. I become aware of how every breath brings me closer to his chest, and how warm it feels, pinned between the wall and his body. Bane has always looked like an icy prince, with his chilly gaze and pale hair and skin. But now I feel so overheated in his presence that I can hardly breathe.
I want to jump his bones, I realize distantly, as I gaze deep into his sharp purple eyes. Heat begins to pool deep between my legs as I recall what it felt like to kiss him, and before I know it, I’ve started to speak again.
“I mean… unless, you do want to go with me?” I whisper breathlessly. Every word feels incredibly awkward as I become aware of exactly how my lips and tongue are moving to make them, but they’re out before I can stop myself from saying them.
Fool, fool, fool! You’re asking for trouble, silly!
Frantically, I reach for my Soothing power, hoping to calm him down in case he’s upset with me. This time, it comes quickly, streaming up around us like a pink, misty veil.
Bane leans in even closer and I lick my lips again. I can see his pulse fluttering at the smooth pale skin of his throat, and the elegant curve of his collarbones in the depths of his shirt. When I flick my eyes back up to meet his, he’s staring down at me, his eyes mere slits as they track my flushed cheeks and heaving chest.
Slut. He’s going to call me a slut.
Despite the mist swirling about us, I’m so sure of it that I barely hear what Bane actually says when he finally opens his mouth to reply.
“Fine.”
I blink, completely stunned. “What? Really? Is this a trick?”
Bane takes a step back, his face as smooth as marble and just as expressionless. “What do you think?”
Then he turns and walks back down the corridor, striding away in his graceful, purposeful way.
The pink mist dissipates almost immediately, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, then collapse against the clock. Sweat is dotting my brow, and I flick a strand of hair back as I wipe at it.
I can’t believe what I just did! I can’t believe that I actually asked Bane out to the dance with me… and he said yes! The magnitude of what I’d done is only just starting to hit me, and it takes a good few minutes before I regain my composure.
When I do, I bend down to pick up my books and head to my next class, only to trip over and slam my head against the grandfather clock, “Ah!”
“Oh dear, are you okay?” Someone comes running over to me. I feel them grabbing at my arms and helping me to sit down on the grass. “Oh no, you’re bleeding!”
I squint against the pain and catch sight of a slim, girl with a sweet round face, wide concerned gray eyes and flyaway light blond hair pinned into two braids. “I’m okay, I must have slipped on the grass.”
“Yup, you have to be careful, it’s really soft when it’s new,” she informs me gravely, helping me back to her feet. “I’d get Madam Kahili to look at this if I were you,” she says dabbing at my forehead with a handkerchief. “You might have a concussion.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” I say, “It’s just a little cut, head wounds always bleed a lot, even when it’s nothing. Plus I need to get to my next class,” I tell her. She’s quite pretty, in a plain, quiet sort of way, and I wonder at the fact that I haven’t seen her before. Then again, she’s quite short and unassuming. It’s easy for girls like her to fade in the background at a school like Pandorax, where fangs, scales, feathers and unusual limbs are the norm.
“Ok, I’m Meg by the way,” she tells me with a smile.
“I’m—”
“Heaven Ramsey,” she says before I can get the words out. “You’re the only angel-born in the school, everyone knows who you are.” she informs me. “Hey, maybe you can heal your wound yourself actually, now that you’ve got your wings.”
“You know what, you’re right,” I say in surprise. Why had I not thought of that before? I should be trying to find out all of my possible powers and not just concentrate on my Soothing, no matter how useful the pink mist is.
I focus my attention on my wings, then grimace as they start to bud beneath the fabric of my school uniform. There’s not enough space for them to unfold without destroying my clothes, so I release the energy and let them disappear once more. It still worked though. When I lift a hand to my forehead, the cut on it has healed. I rub the rest of the blood away with Meg’s help, then gesture to her handkerchief. “Here, I can clean that for you.”
“No worries, I’m due for laundry anyway,” she says. “That was a neat trick though. Must come in useful often, especially since you’re the center of all the Horsemen’s attention.” She raises a brow as if to imply that such a position is not to be envied.
“Yeah well, I’d really rather not be,” I confide with a wry smile. “I’m sorry but I really have to go now, Meg. It was very nice meeting you.”
“Likewise,” she says, giving me a sweet smile. “Maybe we can have dinner together or something.”
“Yeah, for sure,” I say, pleasantly surprised that I’ve found yet another nice girl in the school. I tell her where Sybil and I usually sit, then hurry over to my next class, which I find out to my utmost dismay, has had a last minute change of location, and will be held underground, in the Ballroom.
Chapter 17: Heaven
I arrive in the murky underground chamber right in the middle of Professor Desmond’s address to the class. Madam Wilkins is behind him, sketching magical circles on the ground, and I realize at the sight of the large crowd, that there’s probably at least two to three classes combined down here.
“—so just follow the lines and you’ll see what I mean. It may be a dance, but the principles of magic behind it are just the same as the ones we use in Magical Geometry. Now, form pairs and start practicing the moves as we’ve shown you. It doesn’t matter with whom—this is just a practice dance that’s not binding, unless you want it to be of course.”
Students everywhere begin to pair up and move to one of the repeating magical circles on the ground. I know for a fact that Christian is here somewhere, so I inch away into the darkness to avoid him spotting me, while I search for a dance partner who might be willing to practice with me.
“Excuse me, would you like to—” I break off as a girl loops an arm around the boy I approached and drags him off. I spot Amelie next and move towards her, but before I can get there, someone taps me on the shoulder.
“Briley!” I exclaim in dismay when I turn to see who it is.
“I thought that was you,” she gives me a harsh tug into the middle of one of the smaller spell circles and places a hand on my waist. The music begins and everyone begins to move, so I have no choice but to follow her.
The harpy seems to be back to her normal self, with no marks marring her beautiful heart-shaped face. I allow her to take the lead, and she swings me around with practiced ease, following the pattern of the circle beneath us.
“Uh… how are you?” I ask nervously, trying to use Sooth on her. Just like before with Christian, it doesn’t work the second time over. Maybe once a day is my limit. “I heard there was an… incident?”
“Cut the crap, whore,” she spits. “I know it was you and that sneaky little snake. You may have won the battle, but you haven’t won the war.” Her fingers dig into my waist, scoring abrasions on my skin and I stifle a gasp. “You may be in Christian’s good books for now, but just wait till I—”
“You know what, Briley,” I say, cutting her short as a hot surge of anger rears up to take the place of my anxiety. “You have a lot of nerve coming up to me here.” Not three feet away is the very altar that she and her f
riends had left me on, to be feasted on and ravaged by vampires. The sight of it brings to the fore the raw emotions of how powerless and afraid I’d been at the time, and I suddenly realize how much I never want to feel that way again.
Despite how cramped my uniform is, my wings begin to unravel under them until they burst out from my back in a flurry of razor sharp white feathers. One of them detaches to float by, accidentally brushing down the side of her cheek. A hair thin thread of blood rises in its wake, and Briley’s eyes widen into huge, fear-filled pools of blue as she realizes that I’m armed with at least several hundred thousand tiny blades.
I’m shocked at the sudden revelation of a new power too, but I quickly recover and grab the feather before it can drift away. It’s still soft as down where I’m touching it, but I instinctively know that the other end will be sharp against anyone I wish it to be.
Blood soaks the edges where my uniform is torn too, but I hardly feel the pain, so stimulated am I by adrenaline and fury. When Professor Desmond glances our way, I give him a sweet smile as I shake my wings as if to stretch them. After he looks away, I pull Briley closer so I can whisper in her ear, all the while trailing the razor sharp feather down from her cheek to the back of her neck.
“Remember when I didn’t have wings,” I say quietly, “When you called me a cockroach and told me that not even a troll would want to look at me.”
Briley doesn’t react, so I jab the feather harder against her skin. She gasps, and nods quickly, “Yes!” she whispers. “I remember.”
“Well, I have my wings now,” I tell her. “And if you or Vivette, or any one of your gang so much as makes a move to hurt me or my friends again,” I say, pulling the feather against her hair so that clumps of it falls from her head to the floor. “I’ll pay you back ten times over what you did to me. I’ll make it so that even your own mother doesn’t recognize you, do you understand?”
I pull back to see that Briley’s face is now whiter than the feather in my hand. A thin layer of blood that’s hardly visible in the shadowy light down here coats her neck, and her hair is now an untidy, unbalanced mass where I’d run the feather through it. “Nod if you understand.”
