Crystal Wing Academy- The Complete Series

by Marty Mayberry

  Doing what? “Maybe.”

  Moira tapped her finger in the air. “I know! Alys is going to be a diplomat, as you already know, because that’s her skapti. She’ll negotiate policy and trade deals at the fae court. If you worked for the government, you could be… her bodyguard.”

  Alys smirked. “Or a magician!” Her laughter rang out. Evil wench.

  “Alys,” Cloven said. “Enough. Let’s get back to our lesson.” He took my blade and returned it to the wooden box. “I’d like each of you to close your eyes and find the core sensation you described that equates with your stone.” He paused to give us time. “Got it? Okay, now pull in a thread, or two if you’re able to handle more than one. But before you do…I completely forgot. Let’s discuss colors. Hot colors like red, gold, and orange are best for rougher uses of power. Say, to rake a lawn. Not much finesse needed there. It’s the cool colors that you’ll need to work hard to harness. They’re used for intricate skapti work. Say, to play a concert piano solo or design a building for the king. But I’m getting ahead of myself now, because you’ll learn more about controlling each color in your second year at the Academy.”

  “What about black threads? What are they used for?” I’d pulled obsidian during Orientation, though that was more a glassy black than truest night.

  “Endless black is useless to most wizards, I’m afraid,” Cloven said. “No one has manipulated that color in years, not since—”

  “That’s why I’ve only been able to pull in red and yellow,” Moira exclaimed. “I’ll need training and practice to use cooler colors?”

  “Exactly,” Cloven said. “So, back to storing power in your stones. Go ahead. Pull in some threads.”

  Not showing off because I wasn’t telling a soul, but I easily pulled in green and deep purple. So there, Alys!

  “Now feed the energy into your stones.” Cloven said. “Remember, you must take care not to overload it.”

  Patty shifted on her chair. “Why, Professor?”

  “It’ll crack,” Alys said. “Turn dark. It’ll be useless, then, as will you. You’ll be sent home.”

  Or, in my case, to Ester’s. Assuming she’d take me back.

  Another way to flunk out. To think I’d been pouring power into my stone without ever considering the possibility of feeding too much. I’d have to be careful.

  But wait. “The levels of stone…” I said, having an ah-ha moment.

  “You assume correctly,” Cloven said softly. “Some stones can hold more power than others. Obsidian and moonstone are limitless. No fear of cracking them. You and Donovan are very fortunate.”

  Cool.

  “So, students,” Cloven said, moving away. “Back to the lesson. Feed a bit of power into your stone. It should feel like a balloon, squishy at first as you fill it but the outer surface will become taut. Stop the moment you feel that sensation.”

  “Got it,” Moira said.

  “Me, too,” Jenny echoed. “This is awesome, isn’t it? I can feel the power in my stone, waiting for me to use it.”

  “Fleur and Donovan, you can stop when you wish,” Cloven said.

  Unlimited power? What a heady feeling.

  “And that’s it for today, folks,” Cloven said a moment later. “Our time is through. Take your stones with you when you leave.”

  I waited after class until everyone else had left. Donovan and I had agreed to meet up later but it was time for Cloven to share a few secrets. I couldn’t wait.

  “How about taking a walk outside? We can find someplace to chat out there,” Cloven said, squinting at the wall behind the table still holding the now-empty wooden box.

  “Sure.”

  He waved for me to go ahead of him, and we exited the classroom. We’d started down the hallway toward the main entrance, when someone drifted out of one of the rooms beside us.

  “Ah!” Professor Grim shrieked, making my bones jump out of my skin. “Might you have a moment, Professor Spires?”

  “Sure, Grim,” Cloven said.

  Grim, so aptly named. He floated in the hall, his tattered gray robe dragging on the tile floor. “This won’t take long, Fleur,” he hollered.

  A student passing by met my gaze and rolled her eyes. I barely held in my snicker. Definitely investing in ear plugs before my next Deadly Horticulture class.

  “About the Searing Shears,” Professor Grim said. “I was thinking—”

  Cloven held up his hand to stop Grim from saying anything further. “Why don’t you go ahead, Fleur?” he said. “I’ll meet up with you at the dragon fountain in a few minutes?”

  “Sure.” Searing Shears, huh? The perfect weapon for killing nightlace. While I wanted to slink into the wall, where I could listen in without them being aware, Cloven would see right through that ruse, assuming I could figure out how to do the trick with magic. So far, melting into a puddle was beyond my capabilities. But really, I thought, as I exited the hall and crossed the front foyer, imagine turning myself into a blob of goo. Might be easy to do it, but how would I reform my flesh? Might be…tricky. Or icky.

  After crossing the moat, I took the path that meandered across the front lawn, then rounded the fountain and sat on the bench. This is where I’d spied on Alys and Moira while they talked about Alys’s past. Alys’s dad hated her for killing her mother right after Alys was born. But, really, it wasn’t Alys’s fault she’d inadvertently drained all her mother’s power. She’d been a newborn, unaware of what she was doing.

  I leaned against the back of the bench and studied the dragon. A hazy day, sun didn’t wink through the crystal form, though the red heart still beat slowly deep inside.

  Was the dragon alive?

  “What we doin’?” Alex said, popping into the air and blocking my view of the fountain. “Hanging out, enjoying the balmy fall weather?”

  “The dragon is cool,” I said. “I could stare at it all day long.”

  “Legend says the dragon will come to life someday.”

  I frowned. “Really?” Would it be hungry? Hopefully not for outlings. Bad enough the nightlace and my fellow students were after us. If the crystal dragon joined in on the hunt, we’d face extinction fast. “Does the legend say when it might come to life?”

  “When it has to.”

  “I see.” Actually, I didn’t, but I already knew my questions would result in evasive answers, the norm for Alex.

  “I think the time is coming,” Alex said, sounding pensive for the first time ever. He worried his tiny lips with his teeth. I hadn’t realized dragonflies had teeth. “The force is restless.”

  I shifted on the bench, drawing my legs up to tuck them underneath me. “This isn’t a sci-fi movie.”

  “No, it’s even better.” He whirled around to face the fountain. “The dragon is sworn to rise when…”

  “Dragonsworn?”

  “Where did you hear…” He stared toward the path leading from the Academy. “Sorry, gotta fly!”

  “Alex! Tell me what you mean by—”

  He smacked against my throat, choking off my words, turning into a pendant.

  Thanks. Great talking with you, too.

  Cloven emerged from the path and, once he saw me waiting, smiled. He strode over and sat on the bench and stretched his legs out. As he stared toward the fountain, his light mood seemed to fall along with his shoulders.

  We sat in silence so long, I worried moss would grow over us.

  But when I took a deep breath, ready to ask him to spill all his secrets, he said, “I used to have two sons.”

  Not the intro I’d been expecting.

  “Used to?”

  “They’re dead.”

  “Oh.” Awkward. What should I say to a statement like that?

  “Even though it’s been twenty years since I saw either of them, I still miss them.”

  I could understand that. While she’d ditched me at the Academy seven years ago, sometimes I still missed my mom. I’d be plodding along, thinking everything was okay when
the knife would hit my heart, reminding me of the things we’d never do together, the fun stories I’d never get to share. It was worse on birthdays and over the holidays. And when I woke with nightmares.

  Twenty years was a long time.

  “They were twins. Identical. My wife and I were so proud of our boys.”

  “I didn’t know you were married. Does your wife live at the Academy, too?” For all I knew, she was one of my teachers.

  “She’s dead. Died of cancer when our boys were five.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  One side of his mouth quirked up but only sadness filled his face. “Sometimes, I hear her calling me. Silly, I know.” Grief made his voice scratchy. “Bastian and Blaine. They were as different as the sun and the moon. Bastian was the sun while Blaine…” The creases on his brow twisted. “Blaine chose the night.”

  Ah. Interesting.

  “They were very different, then,” he added. “They were identical only in appearance. Inside, they were polar opposites. Bastian was cheerful and so eager to please. Blaine…” He shook his head, making his long, salt and pepper hair shift along his back. “That boy was determined to prove something from the time he was ten.”

  “What did he hope to prove?”

  “That we have value. That we are worthy.”

  We, not himself?

  Proving worth and value had consumed my life lately. That was part of the reason I tried so hard to be the best at everything at the Academy. Failure would show those who scorned me that they were right, that I didn’t belong. Which was why I had to ride the aldakor, not drop out of the class.

  “Blaine killed Bastian.”

  I reeled away from Cloven. “What?”

  “This is why I asked Justine for permission to explain.”

  “How could someone do something like that? They were brothers.” I had no siblings but, if I did, I couldn’t imagine killing them. I’d actually kill to have a brother or sister.

  “Blaine could control plants. Which is why I know so much about that skill.” His words came out as if the memory pierced something vital inside him. “Blaine loved to do pranks. Fun, laughable things when he was little but, as he grew older, the line between fun and cruelty thinned. I didn’t realize.” He turned a mournful gaze my way and leaned toward me, as if seeking my forgiveness. “You understand, don’t you? I didn’t see until it was too late and Bastian, my happy, sunny son was gone. I’ll never see him again.” Swallowing deeply, he rubbed his face and eyes.

  “Did Blaine…Did he do something horrible with plants?” I could see where this conversation was going already.

  “With the wrong guidance, a wizard can turn them into an army.”

  An army of nightlace? I shuddered.

  He shrugged. “We hope this is a simple warding, a temporary spell that will wear off soon, but…”

  “You said Blaine is dead.”

  “To me, he is. The boy I raised, the son my wife loved, is gone from this world forever.”

  “You think it might be him killing outlings at the Academy? Why?”

  “I told you I’m part outling. Bastian embraced his heritage while Blaine scorned it. He tried to be who he wasn’t.” Turning, his gaze penetrated mine. “Much like you.”

  No denying that. For so long, I’d desperately hoped I’d find a clue that would prove I was Elite, but only because I, in many ways, scorned my own heritage. Like Blaine.

  Or did I? I could pull in more power than most of my peers. I possessed a moonstone, the most powerful stone of them all.

  “Don’t turn your back on the good you can bring into the world, Fleur.” Cloven took in a deep breath and released it. “The time is coming when…”

  “What?”

  “Just trust in yourself, okay?”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Good.” He got to his feet slowly and in this instance, his age showed. Most of the time, despite his graying hair, he acted more like a kid than a grown-up. “I’ll see you in class?”

  That was it? He’d created more questions than he’d answered.

  My eyes smarted, and I shielded my face as I peered up at him. “If it’s Blaine doing this, will you catch him? Punish him?”

  “We will.” His gaze dove down to his hands. “There’s another twist to the story.”

  “What?”

  “Blaine was incarcerated at Darkwater Prison. He escaped.”

  “You think he’d come here?”

  “I believe he has come to kill me. He’s masking his crime by killing outlings.”

  “He’ll make you suffer, watching us die, then kill you last.”

  His pained sigh slipped out. “Yes.”

  “And what if it’s not Blaine?” Though it seemed most likely.

  “Then this could be war.”

  Shocked, I stumbled to my feet. “You can’t fight a war with a faceless enemy.”

  “Professor Grim has been given permission to use the Searing Shears throughout the property, even venturing into the forest. Continuing with the notion that someone has warded nightlace to hunt outlings, we’re determined to minimize the threat.”

  “But the Cerberus and their babies. They eat nightlace.”

  “We’ll keep the plant contained to the eastern forest until the ward wears off. The remaining plants will be enough to see to their needs.”

  “I imagine you’ll forbid us from going into the woods again.”

  “It’s the only way to protect the six remaining outlings.”

  “Seven.”

  His head tilted, and he frowned. “Hmm?”

  “You. You’re an outling, too.”

  A soft smile rose on his face, and he rocked back on his heels. “I am indeed and quite proud of it.”

  I lifted my chin. “I’ll try to…” No. “I’m proud of my outling heritage, too.”

  He cupped my shoulder and squeezed. “And that’s why you’ll be successful.”

  Chapter 13

  The next afternoon, I stood on the forest platform. It was time to ride the aldakor or slink back to my Coven room in shame. Which meant I’d flunk out of the class.

  Flunking wouldn’t mean expulsion from the Academy—thank the fae. But failure meant my pride would take a big hit.

  High in the hills, dull thumps rumbled. The herd was coming.

  Donovan pinged. Hey, I know you’re in class, about to leap off the platform. Wanted to wish you luck!

  I’m so nervous I’m going to pee my pants.

  He laughed. What is it I’ve heard outlings say? Break your neck?

  Haha. It’s break a leg. And that’s for theater.

  Definitely don’t break your neck. I like your neck. His mindspeak voice grew deeper. Your legs, too.

  Oh you do, do you? Maybe we could—

  “It’s time,” Professor Trarion shouted.

  A mix of excitement and fear bolted up my spine. Gotta go, I said to Donovan.

  Call me from the upper pasture, after you’re done grooming your aldakor.

  His complete certainty boosted my confidence and made me feel mushy. It also made it easier to ignore my trembling fingers.

  Today, our teacher wore a green tunic over her black leggings. As her gaze slid to me, filled with either sympathy or encouragement—I couldn’t tell—she smoothed her tunic over her hips.

  Students around me did the same.

  “Remember, Fleur,” she said. “Crouch and spring and think, ride to activate your elemental magic. I know you can do it!”

  Vik, who must be Alys’s alter ego, gouged his elbow into my side hard enough to send my breath whooshing from my lungs. “Do it, or else.”

  “Is that a threat?” I snarled at him, putting a few paces between us. Why did he care? “You should be cheering for me to flunk out. Then the rest of you can move on to the next creature.”

  “Just sayin’.” His smirk turned sweet when his attention flitted to the Professor. “Heard from a friend that outlings are becoming an endan
gered species on campus. Something about…nightlace? Or is it poison?” He shook his head, making his shaggy blond hair slide across his shoulders. “I’d hate to see something…unpleasant happen to anyone else.”

  Fists clenched, I strode up into his face so fast, he floundered and took a step backward. Only a quick grab on the railing kept him from falling off the edge. “Tell me, Vik. You know how to control plants?”

  He shrugged and smoothed his tunic, chuckling as if he wasn’t the least bit concerned I might fight back. But the shake of his hands gave him away. “Can’t say that I do, but you never know who I might be friends with.”

  “Anyone named Blaine?”

  There was no masking his confusion. If Blaine was involved, he and Vik weren’t in on the plan.

  “Touch an outling and you’ll find out my friends—and me—have our own ways of making life unpleasant.” Just let him try something. Me, Donovan, Patty, and Bryce would be all over him.

  “Is that a threat?” he mimicked my words. His voice lifted and a whine crept into his tone. “Professor Trarion, Fleur’s bullying me.”

  I rolled my eyes. And some kids thought I was a drama queen?

  Professor Trarion’s puzzled gaze narrowed on me. “Fleur?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. Vik here…” I put my hand around his waist and squeezed tight enough his breath whoofed out. “We’re best buds, right?” I pulled a tiny bit of power from my moonstone and let my fingers ignite. A curl of smoke whiffed around us as his tunic smoldered.

  “Um—” He turned a face filled with panic my way, and I pressed my finger harder against his side. I wasn’t using full-on fire, just a touch of heat. Enough to show him that while he might think he can threaten me and my outling friends, I could take care of myself. “I was…mistaken.” He gulped. “Yes, that’s it. Mistaken. We are…friends.” His scowl negated that statement.

  “Don’t play games with me, Victor,” the Professor said before turning back to face the aldakor herd thundering down from the hillside.

  With a yelp, Vik jumped away from me, his hand slapping against the singed circle on his tunic. The glare he sent me suggested he’d seek revenge but he wasn’t the only one after my skin. He’d have to take a number and get in line.