The Academy building had been constructed in a huge ring with a moat around the outside and a large, lush garden area in the center. Around me, our dorms, a.k.a., Covens, stood like dark, kindly sentinels, but they wouldn’t protect me from my fate.
Inky blackness peppered with stars and capping the night, though dawn’s orange and red glowed like a smoldering fire on the horizon.
“Fleur, come back,” Tria shouted from inside. “Patty, we’ve got to find her, help her. Then we can…” Their stomping footsteps faded.
Where could I hide? A Seeker in training, Tria would find me unless I kept moving.
I synced with Grathe City’s sundial. Almost eight in the morning. Had it only been a few hours since I’d been trooping with my class toward the cliffs?
December in Maine, even with daylight savings time, meant long nights with the sun rising long after the day had started, then setting before dinner. When I was a kid living with my mom, I couldn’t wait for the light and warmth of spring.
Spring. I’d never see another again.
Instead of running to my room, like everyone would expect, I wrenched left, not caring where I was going. With tears drowning my eyes, I couldn’t see, but I could feel.
My hand ached. How far had the Serum progressed through my flesh?
If only I could flit. Then I’d flee to the end of the forest and keep going. Better to die alone than let the healers chop off my hand.
My steps slowed, and my knees gave way. I dropped to the hard, frosty grass beside a wooden bench and held my face, unable to hold back my sobs.
A stone-cold hand dropped onto my shoulder, and my heart seized.
The healers couldn’t make me go back. I’d fight them.
Pulling my blade, I pivoted sharply but fell back on my butt, holding my bad hand up like a shield. “Stay away!”
“Come for a haircut, Fleur?” Medusa, the Academy beautician, asked in a cheery voice. “We might need to wait for more sunlight, but I’m more than happy to oblige.” She dropped her basket of hair care products onto the bench and waved at the seat. “Have a sit. We’ll wait out the dawn together.” Today, she’d dressed in a floor-length, pink and green floral gown. A matching bonnet like you’d see on a woman in the 1800s, on a wagon train west, stretched across the mass of writhing snakes on Medusa’s head. Two of the snakes undulated across her forehead. One startled and hissed at me but the sound bit off when it realized who I was.
Despite what most people thought, her snakes weren’t venomous. That rumor had been started by Perseus, Hercules’s great-grandfather. He’d asked Medusa out and, when she shot him down, gotten even by changing her beautiful hair to a nest of vipers.
“No cut today,” I said, jumping to my feet. I tucked my blade back into its sheath and slid my bandaged hand around to my back, hiding it from view. Inching sideways, I peered toward the clinic, hoping I wouldn’t see a mass of healers running my way. So far, I was safe.
Medusa’s wings drooped, the tips slumping on the ground. “You sure? I had a cancellation. Was hoping to fill the time slot with something fun. I thought maybe a bejeweled updo for you today. Some shaving on the sides, perhaps?”
“Normally, I’d love to.” Shaving? Not sure about that. “But I…” Think. “I’m…” Not thinking quickly enough. My belly conveniently rumbled. “Oh, yes. I’m hungry. I was going to the cafeteria.” I tipped my head toward the doors at the end of the path.
Wings perking up, she smiled, revealing her tiny fangs. “Okay, then. Perhaps later?”
“Why don’t I ping you?” I said, edging away, my feet fidgeting on the path. “We can make an appointment.”
“Fantastic, dearie.” Medusa lifted the basket and tucked it over her arm. “I’ll look forward to your call.”
“Yup. I’ll see you later!” I flew toward the cafeteria. Knowing Medusa might be watching, I continued past the floor-to-ceiling windows peeking into the cafeteria and approached the entrance. No choice but to go inside now.
Eclipsed by the ending night and hidden from view, I paused and stood staring through the frost-etched glass. Damn, the room was full. Could I scoot along the edge and out the hallway entrance without anyone seeing me or asking what I’d done to my hand?
“Hey, you going inside?” someone said from behind me.
That voice…
Stilling, I closed my eyes and drank in the sound.
“Hello?” he said with rising humor.
Turning, my gaze met his. Like every time he saw me, his deep sapphire eyes widened. Even the sun rising behind him, outlining his shoulders in golden bliss, couldn’t mask the happiness filling his expression. He wore a dark blue Academy winter coat, black gloves, and a blue and white striped hat—askew on his head.
Just like the constant of him never remembering what I’d once meant to him, I could trust his attraction to me. The Court Bespeller could force him to forget, but no one could stop him from wanting to be with me. Was he guided by the spark of the boy I’d once known who remained locked up inside?
“I’m Donovan.” He tugged off his glove and thrust his hand out in greeting. Every other person would nod when introducing themselves but Donovan never did.
Though I was probably fooling myself, I believed he was not only drawn in my direction, he ached to touch me.
Taking his hand, I squeezed it. He wasn’t the only one who couldn’t resist. “Fleur.”
“A flower name.”
“Fleur is French for flower.”
“I like it.” He nudged his head toward the door and stomped his booted feet. “It’s cold out here. You going inside? We can warm up and maybe eat together?”
“Love to.” The sad thing was, the second he turned to tell the chef his order, he’d forget I’d ever existed.
My heart couldn’t take that today.
“I’ve got something I need to do out here first,” I said. A complete lie. “Why don’t you go inside, and I’ll meet up with you there?”
His half-smile ripped through me like razor wire, severing something in my chest. No matter how often I rubbed, the pain wouldn’t go away.
“Sure,” he said. “How ‘bout I get us a table near the windows?”
I forced a grin. “Sounds great.”
Opening the door, he strode inside and out of my life.
Another start with no forever.
Medusa stood beside the bench. Catching my eye, she tapped her temple, reminding me to ping her with a date and time for a cut.
I nodded and turning, rushed inside the cafeteria. I was scooting along the wall, aiming for the hallway entrance when, around me, silence engulfed the air. Like someone had hit a switch.
Kids stared toward the doorway, most with their mouths unhinged.
Facing that direction, I couldn’t hold back my growl.
Alys—looking much too bewildered—stood in the doorway beside her former roommate and best friend Moira, a.k.a., mean girl sidekick. Alys had removed her coat and draped it over her arm, revealing her winter school uniform of plaid pants and a simple white top with the Academy emblem on the right pocket.
“What’s she doing here?” someone hissed. “Thought she’d be doing time at Demon’s Gate Penitentiary by now.”
So had I.
As if on cue, Justine, the Academy’s Headmistress, pinged me via mindspeak. Do you have a moment to chat?
I’m not letting them chop off my hand.
While we do need to discuss that option, that’s not why I pinged. We have a…situation.
I’m seeing it.
Alys. No hiding her flustered tone. I thought I’d have time to tell you myself.
Why is she here? She murdered Drea and Sarah. She tried to kill me and Jenny. If she’d succeeded, there’d only be three outlings left on campus. Four if we counted Cloven, though few knew of his outling heritage.
That’s just it. She was bespelled by someone unknown who—
You’re kidding me. What was it, an epidemic? This ro
gue Bespeller sure got around. Not a good enough excuse.
Donovan, who’d also turned toward the door, glanced my way. That half-grin that made my brain spin rose on his face. Again. He strode toward me, holding out his hand. “Hi, I’m Donovan.”
“Nice to meet you.”
He leaned against the wall, watching me.
Alys was bespelled to change into a nightlace cluster by the unknown Bespeller, Justine said, dragging my brain away from Donovan’s hotness and back to the conversation. She doesn’t remember a thing. Not changing, let alone the person who bespelled her. In fact, she doesn’t remember committing a single murder. Even under Serum.
They’d used Serum on her? I almost felt sorry. Except…murder.
Moira nudged Alys, and she stumbled forward while whispers swirled through the air like vrillas fleeing the gardener. The nymphs loved to pick his flowers. He loved to chase them.
Cringing, Alys turned back to Moira, shaking her head.
Under questioning, Justine said, we were only able to learn that Alys shifted and attacked you. We can’t try her for Sarah and Drea’s murder with so little evidence. It won’t hold up in Council Court.
So, she’s back here, then? Going to the Academy as if nothing happened. I couldn’t hold back my irritation. Doesn’t trying to murder me count?
We can… She coughed. We can try her for assault, if you’d like to press charges.
To say I was tempted was an understatement.
However, Justine continued, since she was bespelled, it will be a challenge to hold her responsible for her actions.
Damn magic and damn rules surrounding magic.
I can’t imagine what good that would do. I said. I’m willing to let it go. Was I stupid for not pressing charges?
If I’d been made to do something against my will, I’d hope for understanding.
That’s kind of you. I’ll pass the word on to the Council, Justine said. If you can, try to find some compassion for her. Imagine the horror of being bespelled.
Been there. Doing it already, as you know.
If the Headmistress caught the Bespeller, would she make them pay? At least I’d find satisfaction in that. More than I would watching them haul Alys away in chains, assuming Seekers did things like that.
Justine couldn’t make the Bespeller break the spell cast on Alys or Donovan, let alone the one blocking my ability to flit. Only a Master Unraveler could unravel the spell.
Forget Level Five. At this rate, I’d never reach Level Two.
Seeing someone pay for these crimes might make my death sweeter.
Yes. You’re right, Justine said. You’re also bespelled. I’m sorry. I wish I knew who took away your flit abilities and who… My hand. No denying her sympathy. As Headmistress of the Academy, she must feel devastated this happened under her watch, but she was also a friend. I want to assure you we’ve taken action. Seekers are here, looking for the Bespeller. And we’ve warded the campus.
Wards had done nothing when Alys was bespelled to turn into a nightlace vine and kill us. But wards were better than nothing.
Turning away from the doorway, where his attention had been drawn, Donovan’s gaze fell on me again. He bumped off the wall. “Hey, I’m Donovan.”
It’s not going to be easy for Alys, Justine said. Everyone knows what she’s done. We’ll send out a notification that she doesn’t remember, that even under Serum it’s unclear she killed anyone, but you know how kids can be.
While I sorta felt bad for Alys, Justine’s words could not take away my pain about Donovan—again—forgetting me.
What’s keeping her from shifting back into a nightlace vine and finishing what she started? I asked, dragging my fingers down my face and half-smiling at Donovan. Can your wards stop that?
Well—
I cut Justine off. If she’s bespelled, how can she stay…herself? It should be permanent. Unless she’d gotten—
We were able to create a charm—
Katya.
The creepy spider sorceress who’d made a charm for Donovan. He wouldn’t forget me as long as he wore it, but the price had been too steep to pay. Remembering me would cost him his power—fed to Katya until none remained. Essentially an outling, he’d be banished from the Academy and Elite society after that.
I couldn’t, wouldn’t, let him do it. Not for me. Not for us. Knowing he’d lose a bit of himself every second in order to remember me would quickly kill me.
Rather ironic since I could now count down my life expectancy in days.
So much for Minerva saying I had a long life to live.
It had crushed my heart when Donovan brought his foot down on the charm and reverted to his forget-Fleur bespelling.
Where did you hear about Katya? An edge of irritation came through in Justine’s voice.
Nowhere. I refused to share what the king had done to me and Donovan with the Headmistress. Whining would do no good. Even if she sympathized, she couldn’t do anything about it.
That’s not an answer, she said.
It’s the only one I’m giving.
She groaned.
Frustration. I well understood the feeling.
What price did she have to pay for her charm? I asked.
Where did you hear about prices for charms? she essentially shouted.
Again, not saying.
And all I’ll say is that you don’t want to know the price. It’s not something any of us would enjoy paying.
Hmm. Now my curiosity was sparked. It couldn’t be anything like the price Donovan had agreed to or her time at the Academy would be limited. And I doubted anyone wanted something like that to happen to her, other than me.
I know I don’t need to ask you to behave, Justine said.
Be nice to Alys. I get it.
That’s not what I meant.
Yeah, she meant about the Bespeller running around on campus randomly casting spells designed to eliminate all the outlings. She must know by now I wouldn’t let this go. I’d try to out the person every waking minute.
I watched Alys, who still cringed in the doorway. Would Moira convince her to enter?
We flitted in the court Bespeller, Justine said. He created a spell that keeps Alys in this form and suppresses her…
Murderous tendencies?
Fleur.
Sorry. Lucky Alys. To twist Donovan’s bespelling, we’d need the Court Bespeller’s cooperation, which wouldn’t come even if the planet froze over.
You promise Alys won’t attack me? I said.
You’re completely safe.
Highly debatable considering the fact that my hand was rotting off, but I could be grateful for small favors.
Justine had not named Alys’s price, however, telling me she had no intention of sharing.
Is there anything else? I asked.
We do need to talk about your hand.
I’m not letting them cut it off.
She growled. You’ll die if you don’t.
If that’s how it’s meant to be, I accept it.
Wizards can live without their hands. We can create a prosthesis for you.
This has nothing to do with that. I’ll accept one if I have to, but there’s still time before I need to decide.
Only a week, she said. That isn’t long enough to find a way around this.
Watch me.
Fleur—
Really. I’m going to handle this. Somehow.
Her sigh leaked out. All right. I guess we can give you a few days to think about it. I’ll talk to you later. She ended the conversation before I could reply.
“Watch out! Nightlace,” someone shouted, making a slinking, hissing noise.
I jumped and ducked. I’d probably always flinch when I heard the slithering, skittering sound of vines rushing my way.
Laughter surged around me, led by Vik, the perp. What an ass.
But the dart had struck true. Face turning scarlet, Alys whirled. She shoved past Moira and left the cafeteria.
/> I followed at a slower pace.
A Bespeller could craft a new spell that could twist a prior bespelling, huh? While it was clear I’d make no headway with the Court Bespeller, not with King Niles determined to keep me and Donovan apart, there might be another option.
Before I died, I wanted to do one final thing for my boyfriend.
Katya…
“Hey,” Donovan said, coming up beside me. “Want to get breakfast with me?” There went that half-grin again, mangling my heart with one swipe. “I’m Donovan.”
Somewhere deep inside, he knew who I was.
There was little comfort in knowing his feelings hadn’t changed any more than mine.
Chapter 4
I should go hide in my room, but I couldn’t. Patty might be there. Crying. And while I would want to comfort her, I didn’t have it in me to soothe anyone else.
I’d die if I didn’t figure a way out of this.
Knowing Tria would track me down soon, I left the cafeteria and hurried through the lobby, pretending not to hear Professor Trarion, my Magical Creatures & How to Tame Them teacher, calling out to me. Something about making sure I was prepared for diving into our next creature. Literally. We’d crawl down its throat and explore its belly.
Waving her off, I entered the hall beyond the parlor and rushed past the auditorium where I’d overheard Cloven, Justine, and Professor Mealor speculating about the slake who’d killed a student on campus, never realizing Professor Mealor was the power sucking slake.
I’d run into Donovan that day and spent the afternoon with him. That was when he told me he’d made a habit of jumping off the roof. I hadn’t known he did it to push his shift into a dragon. That, he’d surprised me with when we jumped off the roof together and he morphed into the creature.
Cloven pinged me.
I answered. Barely. I can’t talk right now. Please.
Okay, but—
I ended his call.
Patty burst into my mind next. Do not hang up on me!
I won’t. Though I was tempted because, if she cried, I’d cry.
Crystal Wing Academy- The Complete Series Page 51
