“Eben shoved me out of the way and ran ahead, toward the slork’s mouth. If Eben hadn’t…” I gulped. “It would’ve been me chomped by the slork’s jaws. I bet the beatleycarne was there, manipulating the slork, controlled by the Bespeller, since—” I held up my hand, the pristine bandages gleaming whitely in the overhead lights. “We know someone bespelled the lardlet to eject pure Serum. I think it was intended for me.” Or Eben. The only two outlings participating in the class project.
“All of this is too far-fetched,” Roark said with a growl. Backing, he paced over to where Carly had been lying and stared down for a long moment.
“The slork was a message for me,” I said, following him.
Not a trace of Carly remained, as if she’d never existed.
“What kind of message?” he said.
“When we found her, she wasn’t Carly.”
He scowled and waved for me to hurry up and spit it out but between gulps of air—I’d never get enough.
“She was me.”
“How the fae could she be you?” His words came out as a grumble but dawn was rising on his face. “You’re suggesting she was bespelled?”
“Someone changed Carly’s face to Fleur’s,” Tria said. “They did it to fool the beatleycarne. They knew the prankster was after her, that it would harm her.”
“So why not just eliminate Fleur if she’s the problem?” From the way Roark’s gaze scanned down my front, I had a feeling he’d like to eliminate me himself. “Why go to this elaborate hoax of bespelling someone else to look like Fleur so the beatleycarne would kill her?”
“They’re playing with me. I think they’ve been doing it almost from the moment I arrived at the Academy. Slowly picking off outlings—my friends—to make me suffer. To push my fear to a fever pitch. Then I’ll make mistakes and be easier to get rid of.”
“Why you?” he asked. “You’re no different than any other outling.”
I pushed past him, striding across the narrow alley before turning to face him. “Because I won’t let something go. I’ll keep investigating until I figure it out.”
“Figure what out?”
It was something I’d been thinking about for weeks. What if my investigation was driving this Bespeller? He or she had a reason to keep me from looking into what happened. I didn’t know why, but I’d find out.
“I need to know what happened with the sixth family.” I splayed my hands wide. “Can't you see? Everyone’s been bespelled not to talk about it.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Roark’s dry chuckle rang out.
Why couldn’t anyone but me see this?
A woman poked her head out the door of the shop on our right—Frond Wands. Her eyes widened when she caught Roark standing with us, and her head disappeared. The door slammed shut and the lock clicked. A Closed sign appeared in the window. As if being closed mattered with the mall collapsing around us.
“You think some random Bespeller cast a spell to make everyone forget?” Roark asked.
“Why are you bespelled, then?” I asked. “You know you are. I was told everyone was bespelled to keep from asking questions.”
“I can’t imagine anyone would care. It happened ages ago. The perp was banished. End of the case.”
“I think the consort, no, all of the sixth family was framed.”
He snorted. “Now you're making up fairy tales. Everyone knows the consort to the matriarch of the sixth—”
“Minerva.”
“Yeah, her.” His voice eased. “Everyone knows the consort created a horrible spell that harmed the patriarch of one of the families.”
“Do you know that as a fact or have you been bespelled to think it?”
He blinked slowly then shook his head. “This is a peculiar theory, but you have no basis for this belief. No one talks about it because it no longer matters.”
I strode up into his face. “It matters to me.”
“And to me.” Tria joined me, glaring at Roark. He plodded a step backward.
“What if it wasn’t the consort?” I said, trying to reason with him. “What if the Bespeller was involved?”
“We’re talking generations ago. He or she would be dead by now.”
“Not if we’re talking about a descendant of this person. We’re dealing with a Bespeller here, one who seems determined to kill me for no apparent reason.” My voice rose. “Why me you asked? Good question. And this is my only answer.”
As bizarre as it sounded, the idea was taking hold of me. I knew I was right. This explained why everyone was bespelled not to talk about the sixth family and why whoever had done it was trying to kill me.
I wouldn’t stop snooping.
Roark’s lips twisted, and he crossed his arms on his chest. Was he relenting or thinking up another way to shoot down my theory?
“You’re right, Fleur.” Rising horror came through in Tria’s voice. “There’s no other motive. This is about the sixth family. We need to find out what happened and expose the real villain to the world.”
“Now wait a minute,” Roark said. He reached out and grabbed hold of our arms as if he believed we’d storm from the alley and announce my idea to the world. “You're talking one plus one and coming up with three.”
“Five,” Tria said with a smirk.
“Five?” I asked, tilting my head.
“The fifth family, that is,” she said. “They might have more information, because they were the ones who suggested Minerva be stripped of her power back then.”
Donovan’s family? What else was going on here?
“In some ways,” Tria continued. “The fifth family is the one who profited most. The sixth was banished from society so they were out of the loop. The third family had to deal with the spells created by the consort. The first, second, and fourth were reeling from what happened. The fifth stepped up and offered a solution—banish Minerva—and then solidified their claim to the throne.”
“I thought the Council made that decision,” I said. Wait a minute. “How do you know all this?”
“Now there’s a good question,” Roark said, his narrowed gaze sweeping back and forth between us. “How about an answer?”
“Never forget my background,” Tria said.
Yes, that was right. She was Minerva's great granddaughter.
“What background?” Roark burst out.
Tria made a zipping motion across her lips before turning to Roark. “I think Fleur and I need to return to the Academy.” She went suddenly limp and collapsed against me. “We’re overwhelmed by this experience and need to…lie down.”
Lame. Very lame. But also smart.
“I’m not feeling well either,” I said. I cupped my mouth and jerked my shoulders, pretending my belly was heaving. “I think I’m…gonna get sick.”
Roark backed up quickly, until his flank hit a door. “Flit back to the Academy. Go directly to your rooms. I’ll notify the Headmistress you’re returning a different way than through the flit circle.”
As if she’d been renewed with strength, Tria straightened. She struggled not to smile. “We will.” Turning, she grabbed my arm. “Hope this works,” she whispered. “It feels right when, earlier, it didn’t. As if I’d been warded.”
So we’d find Carly?
As we flitted from the mall, Roark called out. “Under no circumstances are you allowed to leave the Academy.”
Chapter 28
Unless I could locate a cupla stone and the bone from a dragon and get them to Katya within two days, I was going to die.
Yet the Academy was under lockdown. No one was entering or leaving until the Council had gotten to the bottom of the outling murders.
With only me, Eli, and Manuel left alive, our professors and the battalion of Seekers the Council had sent hovered over us like we were newborn babes crawling along the edge of a cliff.
A Seeker had even been posted on our Coven floor, to Thorn’s disgust. He was convinced the door federation would be more than enough.
I didn’t think anything would be enough.
At least the Council was finally taking this seriously.
“I need you to cover for me,” I said to my friends.
Alys, Moira, Patty, Tria, and I sat in my room, trying to come up with a strategy. I’d explained what happened with Katya.
“No need for a cover,” Tria said. She lounged beside me on my bed. “I’ll flit you wherever you need to go.”
“That’s just it,” I said. “I don’t actually have a solid idea of where I need to go. I plan to start where I first met Capria.” And hope I’d run into a Cerberus or two and they’d be open to letting me remove their cupla stones while they remained alive. ’Cause I wasn’t killing one of them to save my own life.
“If you can find her, will your Cerberus friend lead you to the others?” Moira asked. “Even better, could she give you her stone?”
“She’ll die without it,” Patty said sadly. “It’s part of their life core.”
And there went my idea of begging them to give me one.
“I’m hoping the Cerberus parent will have a suggestion.” I turned to Tria. “Flitting would be awesome, but you’ve never been there before.”
Flit rules. You could only travel to places you’d already visited. Except…
“When you found me and Jenny in the cave,” I asked her. “How were you able to flit to a place you’d never been?”
“I didn’t. I sought you with my skapti.” Tria’s lips curled down. “And you’re right. I wouldn’t be able to randomly flit you somewhere I’d never been before.”
As I suspected, I was heading into unknown territory.
“So, no flitting,” Alys said. She nodded to Tria. “It was a good idea.”
“What about this helper Katya mentioned?” Patty said. She pointed to her chest. “It could be me. I want to go with you, Fleur.” She entreated with her outstretched hand. “Give me the pendant.”
“No, me,” Tria said, digging for my pocket until I nudged her away. “I’m the best protection you’ll ever find.”
“What about me!” Moira scooted forward from where she sat on my desk chair. “Hand me the pendant and we’re outta here.”
Since they were repeating the same pattern, we all looked at Alys, who actually smiled.
“Sure. Count me in,” she said. “Are we talking a pretty pendant? Because, you know, I’m not wearing something ugly.” We all blinked for a second before she added. “Kidding! Jeez.” She climbed off the bed where she’d been sitting beside Patty, and held out her hand. “I know I’m not your first choice, but I’d like to help. Can I go with you?”
Something had changed. Me, or her, or maybe it was just the circumstances. The thread of death did that to people. They softened.
I couldn’t believe I’d become friends with my sister. Which was only one of the reasons I couldn’t give her the pendant. Or Patty, Tria, or Moira.
“It’s gone,” I said.
“What’s gone?” Patty said, looking around.
“The pendant,” I said. After we flitted to my room, I’d dug for it, intending to put it somewhere secure, but it wasn’t in my pocket. Had I lost it while we were running through the mall?
It didn’t matter. I didn’t need it. Didn’t want it, actually.
“What do you mean?” Patty asked. “Are you saying this to get us to back off and let you take off alone?”
I heaved a sigh. “I wish all of you could go with me, but you can’t.”
“Why not?” Tears brimmed in Patty’s eyes. “If we’re with you, we can keep you safe.”
“That’s just it,” I said. “There’s nothing safe about where I’m going. I’d die if anything happened to one of you.”
Patty’s lower lip trembled. “We feel the same!”
“Then you know why I won’t—can’t—risk any of you. Besides, someone will notice if all of us go missing at the same time.”
“Good point,” Alys said. “We’ll stay here.” She held up her hand when the other three growled. “This isn’t me falling back into mean girl mode. Fleur’s right, as much as I hate to say it.” Her snicker held no malice. “She’ll need a good cover. It’s going to take all of us to hide the fact that she’s gone.”
Patty slumped against her pillows. “I’m going to be a wreck worrying about you.”
“I’ll be careful,” I said.
“The beatleycarne,” Moira said. “What are we going to do about it?” She cupped her elbows and shuddered. “It murdered Carly. It’ll follow you.”
“My traps are almost ready,” Tria said, rubbing her hands together. “I’ll have that thing caught soon, and we can decide what to do with it next.”
“I know what the Council does with a plant that commits a crime,” Alys said in a grim tone. “Serum.”
“That only works on wizards and one or two magical creatures,” Tria said, drawing our wide-eyed attention her way. She squirmed. “This can’t just be Seeker knowledge, right? You guys know Serum doesn’t work on plants. It only…uh.” She swallowed when Alys winced. “It worked on you because you weren’t truly nightlace.”
“Yeah.” Her fingers traced along a pale blue stone bracelet she wore around her left wrist. Her charm.
How far had the scales progressed up her legs?
“How are you going to keep the prankster from following you?” Patty asked. “Traps are great but they won’t catch it if it’s not here.”
“That’s the best part about this,” Tria said. “I’ve warded my traps to project an image of you, to lure them in.”
I frowned. “What sort of traps are we talking about?”
“Just little things placed here and there around the campus.”
“They’ll create a magical holograph of me and the beatleycarne will be fooled long enough to creep closer to be caught?”
“That’s the idea,” Tria said.
“Maybe we should enlist Thorn and his neighborhood watch,” I said. “The door federation.”
Alys frowned. “Who are we talking about?”
“Our door. He and the other doors look out for us.”
“I didn’t know this,” Alys said in amazement.
“I did,” Moira said.
Alys nudged Moira with her stockinged foot. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“I thought you knew. Everyone does.”
“I didn’t,” I said. “Not until Thorn told me. I asked him to look into them. Let’s see what he suggests.”
“Interesting idea,” Alys said carefully. “What do we think the doors can do? They’re, like stationary. Hanging around.” She snickered.
“Only one way to find out.” Rising, I opened our door. “Hey, Thorn.”
His lips—outlined in white with black filled in between—appeared. “Fleur! What’s up?”
“Already told you I’ve got a beatleycarne after me. You said you’d ask around, see if any of the other doors knew much about them. Did you find out anything?”
“Indeed, I did,” he said. “Someone told me they love brownies.”
“I assume you don’t mean the chocolate kind.” Because I’d bake the prankster ten pans if that was the case. When it lapsed into a carb coma, I could squish it.
“Chocolate?” Thorn frowned. “What do you mean by—”
“Never mind!” I said. “You mean our room brownie kind-of brownie?”
“Yes,” he said. “Beatleycarnes love them.”
My lips flatlined. “In what way?”
“Huh. Not in that way. Not quite, that is. They don’t date or anything. Really. It’s not like they’re the same species. Beatlies are plants. Brownies are…Well, you know what they are.”
Hopefully they remained brownies forever. Which reminded me, I needed to make sure Patty kept Beatrice, our brownie, loaded up with treats while I was gone.
I leaned against the doorframe. “You think a beatleycarne could be…” I hated myself for even suggesting this. Desperate to try anything,
I gulped back my unease. “You’re saying a brownie could perhaps lure in a beatleycarne.” Hopefully long enough that a few savvy wizards could catch it.
“Exactly,” Thorn said.
Hmm. “Okay. Good to know. Thanks.”
“Anytime, Fleur. Anytime.”
I swung the door shut and collapsed against the back of it. “You four hear that?”
“I think we should ask her,” Tria said, glancing toward Beatrice’s empty bowl.
“She loves you, Fleur,” Patty said. “If you put it the right way and promise more chocolate covered cashews, she might be open to the idea.”
I scratched my head. “I just don’t know. Beatrice is—”
“What is Beatrice?” someone piped up behind me.
Ugh. Our little brownie stood beside her bowl, tapping her foot on the floor. Had she overheard the entire conversation?
“I’ve got a beatleycarne situation,” I puffed out.
“Oh! Beatleycarne? Pranksy.”
I snorted. “Yeah. That’s it. Pranksy.” My cheery mood fled. “Except, things have gone beyond pranks. The beatleycarne killed someone who’d been bespelled to look like me.”
“Murder?” Beatrice gasped out. Her tapping foot stalled on the floor. “I show this beatley.” She glanced around feverishly. “Where it be?”
“Good question,” I said. “Would it be possible for you to…” I couldn’t say it. I refused to offer up my brownie to a prankster.
She poked her thumb into her chest. “Leave to me. I eliminate beatley. Pest like…roach.”
Good analogy. “How do you plan to do it?’
A grim smile rose on her tiny face. “Secret.”
Lots of them around here. “Then I’ll leave it to you.”
“That, and…” Her gaze dropped to her still-empty bowl. “Me no likey this situation.”
I scurried to the fridge and pulled out the can of peanut butter squirt whipped cream and chocolate pudding I’d asked a chef to make in the cafeteria yesterday. After scooping the pudding into her bowl, I squirted cream all the way to the top.
She dipped her finger in, drew out a clump, and popped it into her mouth. Closing her eyes, she wiggled. “Now me likey. No worries about beatley. Gone by morning.”
Crystal Wing Academy- The Complete Series Page 69
