Staring at the cabinet with bulging eyes, Vik gulped. He shook his head and whirled around to face his brother who scowled and pushed him toward the cabinet.
Eben, I noticed, stayed well away from the action.
“Do it,” Ashton hissed out. “Come on!”
Shoulders curling forward, Vik took the shears from Ashton and dragged his feet toward the cabinet.
Ashton latched onto Eben’s shoulders and, as the other guy strained to get away, pushed him up behind Vik.
The green strands snapped forward, straining, reaching. A point on one of the vines gouged toward Eben, who blubbered and struggled to get out from underneath Ashton’s grip.
Nightlace.
One snip was followed by many others as Vik darted around eagerly cutting the vines. The severed strands fell to the greenhouse floor around him while more strands snapped through the seam and reached for Eben.
If I’d had any doubts about a nightlace cluster’s interest in outlings, it fled.
They wanted us. And they were determined to get us. Yet there didn’t seem to be anyone here controlling them with their skapti. Was this a simple ward? If so, who had created it?
After dumping the shears, Vik started gathering up vines while Eben and Ashton held open bags for them.
Even severed, the nightlace wrapped itself around Eben’s wrists, though the attempt appeared weak. Shuddering, he plucked the strands off and stuffed them into the bag, securing the top.
Carrying the bags, they left the greenhouse and scooted around to the back of the Academy, entering the building through a door near the mall.
What the fae were they up to?
They slunk down the hall and took the stairs up to the skywalk.
In no time, they’d set their trap—or prank, if I wanted to be generous—and huddled a few steps below the landing.
I’d had an interesting time trying to avoid detection but so far, they appeared unaware I watched.
While Vik snickered, pointing upward, Eben frowned and his brow drew together.
A strand of nightlace fluttered in the air, seeking…
Since the strands were dead, they’d become objects Eben could control. Did he intend to harm or just scare someone?
Someone pinged me, making me jump, and I had never been more grateful I was being called via mindspeak and not on a phone that would tip them off I was watching.
Hey, Fleur, Ashton said. I was wondering if you’d be willing to get together in the mall for ice cream.
Why?
Because…
I could almost see his brain scrambling for a valid answer. Really, did he think I was this stupid?
If I hadn’t been watching, what would I have thought of this conversation?
Because I realize I might’ve been a bit too harsh with you and I want to make up for it.
I really need to get to class. I’m in my Coven room right—
Perfect. Why not take the skywalk to the back stairs? It’s just a few steps beyond that to the mall. I can speak to your professor, explain why you’re late.
What a complete jerk. All three of them, actually. Anger burned through me like a flame dropped on gunpowder.
That’s really nice of you. Not. But I’m not sure I can make it.
Do it as a big favor for me? Please?
I heaved out a sigh that he must’ve taken as consent, because he hurried to say, Great. I’ll see you soon!
Sooner than he might expect.
I pinged Cloven and quickly explained. He flitted to my side in seconds and peered upward. His face flushed with anger.
What if they’d pulled this trick on Jenny? I, at least, had watched and knew it was fake. She’d be scared to death.
This wasn’t a game.
And while I was pretty sure they hadn't been responsible for Drea and Sarah's deaths, I couldn't stop thinking about how Eben wanted to be seen as the best outling on campus. And how Vik had vowed revenge. He'd find a willing ally in Ashton.
But were they capable of murder?
You can go ahead to class, now, Cloven mindspoke to me. I’ll take care of this from here.
I should’ve flitted away immediately, but I couldn’t resist watching as Cloven stormed up the stairs and grabbed Vik and Eben. His glare held a cringing Ashton in place.
“You three need to have a conversation with a Council Seeker,” Cloven growled out as I flitted from the stairwell.
As I strode inside my next class, satisfaction burst through me. If I knew Roark, he’d be all over the guys in minutes. That would teach them not to play pranks with me.
* * *
After my last class of the day, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.
Patty and Bryce still had classes.
Donovan had unexpected plans, saying it involved a surprise he was springing on me later. Rather than quiz him about it when it was clear he wouldn’t tell me, I took a walk through the gardens out front, then circled around the campus. Before going inside, I paused on the bridge spanning the western moat and leaned against the rail. While I wondered what Donovan’s surprise might be, I vaguely watched the water spin and swirl beneath me.
Shadows lurked down deep and I swore Sirra, the moat’s resident naiad, whispered my name.
Maybe I should go to my room. Nothing waited for me out here other than a run-in with a naiad, something I hoped to avoid for the rest of my life.
Or, my shivering body suggested, a rogue cluster of nightlace on the hunt.
Beneath my fingers, the rail gave way.
I shrieked as I tumbled off the bridge and plunged into the ice-cold water.
Chapter 15
Something grabbed my ankles and yanked. I spiraled farther down into the water, choking and gagging on brine.
With a frantic kick, I tried to dislodge whoever held me.
Whoever? I knew who it was. Sirra, the naiad living in the moat.
Tricksy, per Beatrice.
During Orientation, a professor told us Sirra provided the school protection in exchange for thread power to lure. Long ago, she’d called to unsuspecting outlings, sucking them beneath the water to their inevitable death.
But that was after the fae split and the Academy was formed. Not for a long time.
Despite the slimy water surrounding me, I opened my eyes. I had to see.
We had been told Sirra was not the only naiad living in the moat. Three naiads surrounded me, their arms outstretched, their voices quivering through the water.
“Ssssstudent,” one bubbled out. “Issss minesss.”
“No! Minesss,” a naiad with hair darker than night hummed, slapping the hands of her tricksy friend as they reached toward me.
“I hasss her,” Sirra said, latching onto my arm and wrenching me sideways.
My lungs on fire, I flailed and smacked at their hands. Breaking free, I swam franticly for the surface. Air. I needed air!
“Come backssss,” one called behind me. “We likes to playsss with ssssstudents.”
I bet they did.
Sirra darted ahead and above me, cutting off my escape. Her arms extended toward me in a mother’s embrace while she entreated me with a melodic voice, “Come to me, childssss. We can playssss.”
In a watery grave? No thanks.
I peered around while my body screamed for air. No way out. I’d drown!
My blade called to me, nicely filled with power, and I yanked it from the sheath. A quick jab might be more effective than a spell.
When the naiad with red hair reached for my arm, I poked her. With a sharp flick of her tail, she knocked my knife from my hand.
My moonstone. No!
It spun away, twisting down toward the muck below. I dove after it, my lungs parched, my heart solidifying into a granite block sluggishly beating in my chest.
I spiraled down, down, my legs kicking, my fingers straining toward my blade that remained out of reach.
It plopped into the thick layer of sludge covering the bottom of
the moat. While my head spun, I frantically pawed through the slime, nicking my finger on the blade like the day I’d wet my stone and activated its ability to store power.
My moonstone sang to me. Come!
My stinging finger made me hiss, but I was able to grab the hilt and tuck the blade back into the sheath at my waist.
Time was up. My life was limited if I didn’t get out of the water. Time to flit the hell out of here.
I called elemental magic. Like I’d used a dead battery, I went nowhere. Maybe the weight of the water kept me from flitting?
I dropped my feet into the muck, determined to propel myself up and past the naiads, but something to my left drew my eye. A hatch?
Who’d put a square door on the side of the Academy’s basement wall?
When Sirra latched onto my arms and tugged me near, I lifted my legs and, bracing my feet against her belly, shoved off, extending my body toward the door. Sirra snarled and clawed at my legs, her long nails drawing blood that clouded the water around me.
My fingers bit into metal, and I scrambled to find a way to open the hatch. A handle! I grabbed it and yanked, praying it would open. It didn’t budge.
Magic. Use magic! My pulse thundered in my ears, and my vision wavered. I yanked power from my moonstone and, combining the energy with elemental magic, I demanded, open!
As Sirra’s fingers scrambled up my legs, the hatch gave way and I was swept inside. The door snapped closed behind me as I tumbled onto a hard, stone floor. An enchanted room? Magic must be holding the water back.
Braced on my arms with my hair hanging in my face like slimy seaweed, I gulped in stale air. Water dripped off my nose and chin and drizzled off my clothing, pooling around me on the stones.
Jarring bangs rang out as the naiads pounded on the hatch. “Let ussssss inssss.”
“Go away!” I shouted with false bravado. In reality I was trembling, scared-to-death. Goosebumps peppered my skin, and my body shook so badly I couldn’t get off the floor.
Shoving my sodden hair off my face, I stared around, unsure if I’d found safety or another trap.
I found myself in a dusty, dirty room about the size of the cave Capria had fallen into—minus the nightlace, thankfully. The floor sloped to my right and water that had rushed in with me before the door magically slammed closed flowed to a drain recessed into the floor in the corner.
Rising to my feet, I wiped my dirty hands on my equally dirty school uniform skirt. Beatrice was going to rip me a new one for getting crud all over my uniform.
Where the fae was I? Beneath the Academy, obviously, but I hadn’t heard the Academy had a basement.
With elemental magic, I generated a light and peered around.
Wow. Someone had lived here once.
A desk teetered against the wall, one of its legs broken off. Only the corner propped against the stone block wall kept it upright. Along the left wall stood a low bed frame with a moss-covered mattress. A bug-eaten blanket with multiple holes like dark, staring eyes, lay half on the floor.
Odd thought on my part, but had someone hidden here once? That might explain why no one had mentioned this room.
On the floor at the foot of the bed sat a small black chest about the length of my forearms, with rusted metal straps binding the wood together. I walked over to it, my shoes squeaky-squishing as water was forced out the sides.
Definitely needed to pick up some treats for Beatrice.
I stooped down in front of the chest and scowled. Locked, of course. Using my blade, I poked the tip into the tiny opening and twisted.
Sparks and flames erupted from the tiny hole and I barked as I was flung backward. My butt skidded on the floor. Wincing, I blew on my scorched fingers. My knife fell from the lock and rattled on the floor.
The chest must be bespelled to keep anyone from getting inside. But the sparks and bang were a neat trick I wanted to learn.
Climbing onto my knees, I hobbled over to the chest again with a caution I should’ve used initially. I picked up my knife and, drawing in power, combined it with elemental magic and commanded, open.
Nothing. Not even sparks or flames, this time. Big improvement, there.
I tried again.
Still nothing.
Growling, I gave up for now and stood, leaving the chest to explore the room. Something rectangular and dark lay on the top of the desk and I crept over to check it out.
A book? Runes scrolling across the front resembled the words on the Coven banners and…My fingers slid across the hilt of my knife. I’d yet to decipher what the runes said but needed to even more, now.
Not interested in scorching my fingers again, I located a fork lying on the floor underneath the bed. I used it to flip back the moldy book’s leather cover.
No flames or sparks attacking me this time. Just a faint creak as the spine split.
Inside, I found heavily mildewed, crumbling pages with scrolling, nearly-indecipherable writing.
A date at the top of each page suggested this could be a journal, but whose?
The book had gotten wet and the ink had bled, smearing most of the words, but a few popped out.
…cannot…here longer. …naiad…escape…find…new….C
Not much I could get from that. Who wrote this? It looked ancient.
I carefully flipped the pages. One word—a name, stood out.
Minerva. The matriarch of the sixth family. Excitement made my hands shake. Had this journal been written by a descendant of the sixth family? Maybe she’d remained hidden here for years.
I couldn’t let this go.
Shivers wracked my body, making me realize I needed to get out of my wet clothes. And my belly had move beyond rumbling and was contemplating hosting a coup if I didn’t feed it soon.
Time to flit and meet up with Donovan. Closing my eyes, I pictured my Coven room, but nothing happened. I tried again, but I sadly remained in the damp, cold room beneath the Academy.
I assumed the chest was bespelled. Was the room locked down behind magic, as well? That would explain why no one had mentioned it or been down here for ages. Well, anyone but me. And it might also explain why I’d been unable to flit a few moments ago. Bespellings worked in mysterious ways.
To escape, I’d have to find a way past Sirra and her friends.
Sighing, I turned, dreading opening the hatch and taking on the naiads.
Alex appeared, his little blue and green wings fluttering.
“Ah, nice to see you’re exploring the clue I left you,” he said.
“Hold on.” I held up my hand and he landed on my index finger, tickling my skin with his tiny feet. “You didn’t make the rail give way, did you?”
“I wanted you here, not playing with Sirra.”
“Tricksy wench.” She had tricksy friends, too.
“To some.”
I tilted my head. “Not to you?”
“We go way back.”
“I imagine you do.” I waved my other hand. “Tell me about this room?”
He zipped up into the air and did a back flip before zooming back in to stop close to my nose. “That’s for you to discover, me to know.”
“But you wanted me to find it.”
“I did.”
“Then who lived here?”
“Someone vital.”
“Cool.” The word breathed out of me. I squinted, hoping to find more clues on his buggy face but it was useless. He gave nothing away. “Vital in what way, though?”
“To the future. Yours, mine, and that of the split fae world.”
“I saw Minerva’s name in the journal. Did she live here?”
“Many Minervas living in the world.”
“You know who I mean,” I said eagerly. “The matriarch of the sixth fae family. The one who did something horrible I’ve yet to discover. She was banished.”
“What makes you think she lived here?”
“Just a suspicion. She had to live somewhere. If not her, though, did her chi
ld live here?”
“Why would a child live here?” His body shimmered when he shivered. “This place is cold and damp and the ambience is dreadful. Why did you bring me here again?”
“You just said you brought me here.”
“Ah, so I did.” He released a sunny, buggy smile.
“When Minerva was banished, it was rumored she was pregnant.”
“She was, and the child lived.”
Ahh. A clue! “Who is the child?”
“Not for me to say, I’m afraid, but for you to learn on your own.”
I propped my hand on my hip. The material squished. Yuck. I needed to get changed soon. And shower before changing. “I feel as if I’m so close to discovering everything.”
“Nothing gained has value unless it’s worked for.”
I huffed, but my bangs remained plastered to my forehead. “You know I’m trying.”
“Try harder!”
I growled. “I can’t do anything unless I get out of here. The room’s bespelled. I can’t flit.”
“Not bespelled. The naiads use borrowed magic to create a flit-block. If you want out, you’ll need to swim.”
So, that was why I hadn’t been able to flit from the moat. “I don’t dare leave.” Wrapping my arms around my waist, I quivered. Not just from cold. Fear kept me grounded. “Sirra’s out there, waiting.”
“She won’t harm you.”
“She seemed pretty determined a short time ago.”
“Perhaps you need to check out her other facets?”
Like she was a diamond with multiple sides? Interesting. “Can you help me get out of here?”
“Sure!”
“Thank you,” I breathed in utter relief. “Can you flit me out?”
“I’m afraid you’ll need to swim.”
“Sirra will drown me if I go back out there.” I waved to the hatch.
“Not if you convince her to do otherwise. She might be sly, but she has a soft side you should discover.”
Doubtful.
Crystal Wing Academy- The Complete Series Page 34
