He pulled a plastic bag from his pocket and dumped dirt on the pretty floor. “There you go.”
I waited a moment but nothing happened. “It’s still there.”
“You’re magicking it away, not me.”
“You dumped it.”
“And you want to learn.”
Valid point. “If magicking it away was simple, I would’ve discovered I could do it already.” Especially while cleaning Ester’s kitchen.
“Send it away, then,” he said.
“Where?”
“Outside. Think about the dirt moving outside.”
“Is there a magic word? In fantasy books, there’s always a magic word.” I must be missing the final piece to the puzzle and Donovan held it behind his back.
“No magic word. Think of the dirt lifting off the floor and moving outside.”
Or into the trash, I supposed. “What if it drops from the sky? It could fall on someone.” It wasn’t like I could yell, watch out below!
“That rarely happens.”
Rarely being the most interesting part of that statement.
I stared at the dirt and tried to picture it outside. Nothing happened.
“Keep trying,” he said.
Again, nothing.
“It’s okay,” he said. “Let’s try something else, something simpler, and we can come back to the dirt.”
“Damn it, dirt,” I said. “Get outside.”
Pop. The dirt disappeared.
I smirked. “See? There are magic words. I’ll need to get a box of donuts or something, or I’m going to piss off our brownie, cleaning things up this easily. She seems to enjoy her job.” And the treats I kept giving her. This was fun, but I’d definitely need to practice some more. “Can you teach me flitting?”
Something Professor Mealor had mentioned my first day.
“Transporting yourself from one location to another.” A low whistle came out with his exhale. “You don’t pick easy elemental tasks, do you?”
“Is it hard to do?”
“Many can’t master it.”
“You?”
“Well…” His cheeks darkened.
“You can pull more than one thread, can’t you?”
He nodded.
I tilted my head. “Any limit to the number you can pull?”
“Nope.”
“We’re not normal.” That fact had been solidifying in my mind over the past few days as I got to know my fellow students.
“I’m normal, but you’re not.”
“But you just said…”
He crossed over to the French doors, opened one, and stepped outside.
Okay. Blinking, I followed and was greeted with a burst of cooler air heralding dusk.
We leaned against the rail, staring toward the fields and forest.
“My mom was Elite,” he said, not looking my way.
“Your dad, too.”
His breath whistled out of him slowly. “The man who raised me was Elite.”
I cocked my head in his direction, but he didn’t meet my eye. “Wasn’t he your father?”
“I’ve said too much.”
“No, you’ve said too little.”
“I can’t…” His hair shifted on his collar when he shook his head. “The world thinks he was my father.”
Ah. “This is why you’re not interested in the throne.”
“It would be mine if something happened to my brother. My mother was queen, and the throne goes through her bloodline.”
“Then who was—is—your father?”
A long silence followed.
“I’m sorry. I can’t say.”
We’d come here to have fun. I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. “Tell you what. We can…talk about this another time, if you want. Teach me flitting.”
“I’ll try.” Pivoting, he propped his hip against the rail, and his lips twitched. “One thing. This elemental task requires magical words.”
I smirked. “Damn it?”
He chuckled. “Something more sophisticated than that. Flitting isn’t only about speaking the words, it’s also about willing yourself from one location to another.”
“Like the dirt.”
“Similar.”
“What keeps you from popping onto someone else or into mid-air?” Where you’d fall. Splat.
“That’s why it’s tough magic to master. If your destination doesn’t work, you don’t flit. You have to adjust your destination slightly and try again. And you can only travel where you’ve already been.”
“So, no flitting to Rome to view the colosseum.”
“Not unless you’ve already been there and no one is watching. We don’t like to reveal magic to the outside world.”
“I guess flitting would come in handy if I was late for class.”
“It’s tiring. We use it sparingly.”
This must be how Justine brought me to Ester’s. “I didn’t notice I was tired after moving the dirt.”
“If you cleaned your entire house, you’d be exhausted.”
“Much like vacuuming, I guess.” I heaved a sigh.
“Except quicker, I assume,” he said, glancing around. “We can start with short-range flitting. Like from here—” He stomped his foot in place, the sound echoing in the empty room. “—to here.” With a wave of his hand, he indicated about three feet toward the French doors.
“Let me guess. Long-distance flitting is tiring.”
“Exactly.”
“Do you build up a tolerance when using elemental magic? Meaning, if you do it enough, your body can handle, say, longer flitting without wearing you out?”
“We call them flits. Flitting is the movement itself. And, yes, I’ve heard you can build up a tolerance. I’ve only flitted short distances. We’ll learn how to preserve energy for longer flits here at the Academy.”
“Professor Mealor.”
Donovan nodded. “He’s been teaching expanded elemental magic for the past two years.”
“To flit, do I simply think of myself in the new location and, bingo, I’m there? Well, after saying the magic word?”
“Pretty much. You have to really focus, though. Never flit when you’re distracted or you’ll fail. Parts of you might not make it.”
Yuck.
“You still want to try?” he asked when I swallowed deeply. “Or did I scare you away from flitting for the rest of the school year?”
I scoffed. “You won’t scare me away that easily.”
“Come closer, then.”
I already stood directly in front of him, but I inched in so near our breathing mingled. Okay, and I was tingling, too. But this was Donovan. I liked him. And, hell…there might be a kiss in my future.
“We’re going to flit together so you can see how it feels,” he said.
“Do we need to be touching?”
He grinned. “Touching is always good.”
I smacked his arm and answered his smile with one of my own.
He took my hands and squeezed. “Don’t be nervous.”
I wasn’t truly nervous about flitting. The thought of kissing made me nervous.
His lips were slightly thinner on the top than on the bottom. What would kissing them feel like? At ten, I hadn’t read romances, assuming Mom kept any around. Ester sure hadn’t stocked them in her library. Sure, I knew the mechanics. Put your lips together and move them. Tongues might become involved.
More tingles. Guess I was okay with tongues.
“Fleur?” Donovan asked, his eyes gleaming. “You with me here?”
Stop staring at his lips.
“I am. Sure.” Mostly. “Should I close my eyes?” Yes, closing my eyes would let me feel.
Earth to Fleur. Pay attention. Flitting was on the agenda, not kissing. At least not yet.
“Might be better to keep your eyes open so you can see what’s coming. You’re flitting with me, but I’m doing the magic this time. We’ll ease you into it slowly.”
In se
conds, we’d moved about three feet to the side of where we’d been before.
“That was cool,” I said, gazing up at him.
“I know, right?”
“Let me try?”
“Okay, so hold on tight. Then I can intervene if needed.”
“Gotta keep all my parts.”
His lips spread, and he basically squirmed. “Yeah.”
“I’m going to close my eyes so I can focus solely on flitting,” I said. And try to shove the idea of kissing out of my mind.
“Whatever works for you.”
“Okay.” I squared my feet on the ground and tightened my fingers around his. And waited… “Donovan.”
“Yeah.”
“Magic word?”
“Damn it.”
When he snorted, I smacked his arm again. “You made it up?”
He laughed. “Just flit.”
I tried. Nothing.
Again. Nothing.
A sad pattern for me.
“It would be easier if we could use magic words,” I said.
“If saying something helps you focus, go for it. No harm in that.”
Focus. Wait. The threads. I tugged in three—yellow, green and, because I could, obsidian, and coiled them into my moonstone then pictured us standing a few feet to our left.
Nothing.
“Remember, elemental magic uses your inner power, not your skapti power.”
“How did you know I’d drawn threads?”
“Guessed, actually. Keep the power, but for elemental magic, you’ll need to find the core within yourself.”
Ugh. Of course. Pinching my eyes tightly together, I envisioned us a few feet to our left again.
The world dropped away for only a moment before my feet slammed onto the wooden flooring. My eyes popping open, I staggered against him, my legs turned to mush.
“Whoa. Steady there.” He held me up with his arms around my waist. “You okay?”
“I did it!”
“You did.”
“It was awesome.”
“Totally.”
I peered up at him as total awareness shot through me. We were very close.
Gulping, I backed away, keeping one of our hands linked. “Can I try again?”
“As long as you’re not too tired.”
I linked both of our hands together. The intimacy of the gesture sank into me like a long drink of verdeen, making my knees quiver.
Closing my eyes again, I thought: French doors. Beside the French doors, that is. Needed to remember to be specific or…missing parts.
This flit hit me like a sledgehammer behind the knees, and I staggered, falling against Donovan when we landed.
“I’ve got ’ya,” he said, supporting me. “You all right?”
He smelled good. Of cotton, light cologne, and boy. Not stinky boy, either. The good kind of boy, the kind that made you want to melt into him and stuff your nose against his shirt. I wanted to wrap myself around him.
“You, um…” Donovan released a soft chuckle. I felt it against my cheek. “Um, okay.”
Crap. I’d wrapped myself around him. My legs, too, not just my arms. I dropped my feet and they jarred on the floor. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.”
“Ugh. ’Cuz you’re a guy.”
“If it helps any, I wouldn’t want anything like this with another girl.” His arms drew me closer, and he dropped his chin onto my shoulder, whispering. “I like you, Fleur.”
“Like me as you do Patty and Bryce or…”
“Like you as I want to steal that kiss.”
My heart flipped. “No need to steal.”
His fingers glided along the back of my neck and then wove into my hair, massaging.
When I tipped my head back, his face came closer.
Should I close my eyes or keep them open so I didn’t miss a thing?
Closed. So I could feel.
His lips touched mine, tender. They were soft and firm all at once. I’d often wondered what a boy’s lips would feel like on mine, what they’d taste like.
I liked it. It made my pulse flit around in my throat.
His heart went thud-thud-thud, as did mine.
My spine tingled when he touched me. His warmth sank through my skin from his arm around my waist. And my head spun.
We pulled apart and grinned at each other.
“Okay?” he asked when I said nothing.
“Better. In fact, I’d like another.”
“I’d like that, too.” His voice came out husky.
“Ever made out in a hayfield?” I asked, teasing my fingertip along his shoulder.
He frowned. “Not yet, but there’s a first for everything, right?”
I flitted to the balcony then giggled as he stalked my way.
One second, and he stood in front of me, reaching for me.
Laughing, I flitted to the back pasture behind the Academy.
As if he’d watched me appear below, Donovan was right behind. My feet gave out, and he scooped me up in his arms and whirled me around while I shrieked. But I liked it. Liked being held by him.
When my feet touched the ground, I stumbled backward. Donovan fell with me, twisting, and I mostly landed on top of him.
“Oomph,” he said then chuckled when I scowled down at him. “Just kidding. Have to admit. I like this even better than you wrapping yourself around me.”
This time, I kissed him.
* * *
Late that night, while Patty slept, I stood at my bedroom window, staring out. Behind me, Beatrice sighed and groaned. I’d filled her bowl with chocolate sauce.
“I be thinky you my favorite student,” she chirped. Her hiccup was followed with tinkling laughter.
Great. Who would’ve thought chocolate could get a brownie drunk?
“We friend.” She burped and giggled. “Better than brownie friend.”
“You’re not friends with other brownies?” I asked softly, so as not to wake Patty.
“Brownies tricksy.” A scowl filled her tiny face. “Me no likey tricksy.”
“Yeah, I don’t like tricksy, either.”
Humor fell from her like a cloud covering the moon. “Becare of naiad, favored student.”
“Naiad? What’s that?”
“Tricksy.” Tucking her head inside the bowl, she licked until nothing remained but the smooth, white porcelain. “Thanky.” After giving me a chocolatey grin, she stood and spun in place, so fast she became a blur.
In a blink, our room was spotless and Beatrice was gone.
Shaking my head, I turned back to the window.
Becare of the tricksy naiad, huh? I shrugged. Seemed like I had to becare of a lot of things around here already. What was one more?
Movement outside caught my eye. Someone hurried from the Academy, toward the forest. When he turned, the moonlight caught his features. Bryce.
I leaned forward, straining to catch everything he did. I should go back to bed, ignore him. If he got into trouble for sneaking out, that was his problem.
Where was a slake going tonight?
He reached the forest and slipped through the trees, out of view.
I’d started to turn when someone else drifted across the field as if they followed Bryce.
Moira.
She stumbled along as if she was half-asleep or drugged. Or under the influence of some sort of spell.
What if Bryce had called her to the forest? Surely bonds could be broken. I’d already learned power was addictive. If he was hungry, he’d seek out students.
Moira had been weak and tired the other night, though she’d brushed it off as stress. But what if there was a different reason for how she’d behaved?
A slake could be draining her power.
Chapter 22
I flitted to the exit Donovan and I had used but had to half-jog the rest of the way on foot, since the short flit had drained some of my energy.
There was a reason the Headmistress didn’t want
us in the forest. Why had Moira come here? She’d appeared to be following Bryce who, in my opinion, couldn’t be trusted.
I found a trail approximately where I thought I’d seen she and Bryce enter and crept forward. Bushes scraped against my sides, and the earth beneath my sneakers released a musty-moldy tang that threatened to make me sneeze.
Trees crouched around me, some with branches hanging low enough to snag along the ground. Within the deep vegetation, moonlight didn’t penetrate. I crept forward slowly, unable to see more than a few feet ahead. Tiny sticks snapped underfoot like fingerbones and moist leaves squished like rotten corpses in a dark, airless crypt.
Ahead something or someone whimpered, and I stalled on the path. My heart drummed in my chest, and my skin crawled. Had the sound been a wounded animal?
“Moira?” I whispered, unwilling to call out her name. Something was stalking students. Drawing attention could prove fatal.
Was I stupid to come here? I was risking my life for a girl I barely knew. Yet I forced myself to step forward, deeper into the woods.
Another whimper—almost a cry. My mouth flashed dry, and I swallowed past the lump of fear in my throat.
What if someone was hurting Moira? I couldn’t hide in my room while it happened.
Gathering up my flagging courage and picking up my speed, I rushed forward, my feet slamming on the ground.
Entering a clearing, I floundered to a stop, my arms spiraling. My jaw lowered, and a gasp eased from my lungs like my last breath.
Moira stood on the other side of the clearing, leaning close to someone. No, to something. Whatever it was clutched her arms tight enough to give her bruises. The person wore a long black robe with a hood pulled up to mask their face.
For a second, I thought they were going to kiss Moira except her head slumped back and the creature sighed. The shadow of its pale face made up of a sharp chin, a pointy nose, and a mouth dropping open, moved near to her throat. Clumpy strands of red and deep maroon, much like clotted blood, wound from her neck as if it sucked them through her skin.
“Slake!” I shouted. “Leave her alone.” It was draining her power!
I ran at them, pulling my dagger and drawing in ropes of colorful power at the same time, feeding the energy into my moonstone—feeding it into me. When I swore my moonstone overflowed to the point of explosion, I released it from my extended fingertips in balls of fire.
Crystal Wing Academy- The Complete Series Page 19
