Crystal Wing Academy- The Complete Series

by Marty Mayberry

  “It’s a surprise,” he said. “It’ll be fun.”

  Sure. As long as I didn’t trip and fall on my face.

  “You’re cute.” The husky tone of his voice sent heat zinging through me.

  It was both daunting and thrilling to go wherever he led.

  I wanted to slap my hand over my mouth when my high-pitched giggle slipped out, but this boy knew me. He wouldn’t mock.

  “You ready to keep going?” he said with anticipation. “We’re almost there.”

  “Then I get to take off the blindfold?”

  “You can leave it on if you want.” His laugh sounded nervous now, too. Good. I shouldn’t be the only one who was excited and on edge, all at the same time.

  “I’ll leave it for now, but I want to see!”

  “Okay, then, come on.” He tugged me forward, and I rushed along with him for a few more minutes.

  We came to a stop.

  He linked our hands again. “Okay to put you in position?”

  “Position?” I laughed softly. “What are you planning?”

  “You’ll see.” His words came out boyish, eager. His fingers went to the tie at the back of my head. “Ready?”

  Biting my lower lip, I nodded.

  He fumbled with the knot before releasing a soft huff when it let go. “Afraid for a second you were stuck with it.”

  “That would really improve my fireball aim.”

  I opened my eyes to his grin. He took a step backward and waved toward the top of the hill.

  The world had been brightened with every color imaginable.

  “Wow…” I shook my head. “What… What is that?”

  “You like it?” He took my hand to pull me forward. “They’re flarelets. A kind of plant.”

  “Magic.” Like everything else in this world.

  Tall, thin strands in varying lengths had been planted in a large circle near the top of the eastern pasture. Like bolts of iridescent lightning, they speared up toward the sky, some only waist-high, others at least eight feet tall. They swayed and dipped in the breeze and, when they bumped together, they released a rippling melody much like wind chimes. He’d laid a blanket underneath them.

  “I planted them here a month ago and they’ve been growing ever since,” he said. “I wanted to surprise you.”

  “They’re awesome. Beautiful.” I squeezed his hand. “I love it.”

  He waved toward the blanket. “Have a seat. The show will begin in minutes.”

  “Show?”

  “You’ll see.”

  We dropped down to the ground. Overhead the flarelets bobbed and swayed, their chimes lilting through the air.

  The music lulled me…

  Lying back on the grass, I stared up. Dusk hung on the horizon, spilling colors rivaling the flarelets into the sky.

  “You awake?” Donovan whispered. He shifted closer and, when I peeked at him through my lashes, he smiled that half-grin that made butterflies flit around in my belly. Or, in my case, they might as well be dragonflies.

  My heart clenched.

  I missed Alex so much. His perky attitude. His backflips. The way he seemed to say nothing while revealing everything I needed to hear.

  He’d saved my life, and I’d never be able to repay him.

  Rapid thuds raced our way.

  I bolted upright. Yeah, we were sitting underneath flarelets but that didn’t mean we wouldn’t be trampled. We were talking about the Academy. Magical beings.

  Capria rushed out of the forest and raced over to us. She skidded to a stop, barely avoiding trampling us.

  My Cerberus friend had grown to the size of an elephant.

  “You like my other surprise?” Donovan whispered.

  Biting my lip and trying not to cry, I nodded.

  “I’m gonna talk first,” Capria’s right head said.

  “No, me,” the middle shouted.

  “I believe it’s my turn,” the left head said. It dipped down. “Fleur! We’ve been waiting forever to see you. When are you coming to the cave for another sleepover?”

  Nothing had surprised me more than when they’d started to talk a few weeks ago.

  “Soon. Donovan’s…” I elbowed him. “He said he’d bring me.” In dragon form, of course. I couldn’t wait to fly again.

  Sparky, my dandybucklion friend, popped up from the ground nearby. He smiled, revealing his fangs. Hefting a stick, he tossed it and it sailed out across the field.

  The Cerberus pup—actually, a small house—took off after the stick, her multiple heads squabbling about who would grab it, who would bring it back, and who would get to gnaw on it after.

  I grinned at Donovan.

  He inched closer and put his arm around my shoulders. “And that’s my other surprise.”

  Kisses soon followed. I’d never get tired of his kisses.

  Something bumped into my shoulder, and I released a small shriek.

  I pulled away from Donovan, my face overheating. Yeah, I wanted to make out with him, but this wasn’t exactly private. A billion creatures surrounded us.

  But what had run into me?

  Baby dragonflies zipped here and there, and seeing them made my throat tighten.

  A pink and yellow dragonfly zipped in close to my nose. “Oh! There you are!”

  The words Alex had always used when he saw me. I wasn’t sure my heart could take this.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “You tell me.”

  “Are you a boy or a girl or…?”

  “Yes!”

  “How about…Jes?”

  “That’s right!” the dragonfly said. “How did you know?”

  “Maybe because…”

  “You were waiting for me, weren’t you?” Jes said before doing a quick backflip.

  Was I?

  I wanted to shoo the tiny dragonfly away, but I couldn’t.

  Sixth family. Dragonfly companion.

  Could I let another buggy friend into my life?

  No matter how hard you try to hold onto it, time slips away.

  Alex’s words.

  One second, you’re thinking you have tomorrow, only to find you barely have today.

  How could I waste a single moment?

  “I have so much to tell you,” Jes said.

  Donovan stared at the dragonfly with wide eyes. “Is that bug talking to you?”

  “Not a bug,” Jes said, flicking wings at him as if scolding.

  “They do that,” I said. “Always. And you know what?”

  He shrugged.

  “I like it,” I said.

  “You like it,” Jes said. “You like meeee!”

  ~THE END~

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  Skip ahead a page for the blub and first chapter of Wicked Betrayal, Book 1 in my Darkwater Reformatory Series.

  * * *

  Marty writes young adult fiction and infuses it with suspense, romance, and a touch of humor. When she's not dreaming up ways to mess with her character's lives, she works as an RN/Clinical Documentation Specialist. She lives in New England with her husband, three children, three geriatric cats, and a spunky Yorkie pup who keeps her on her toes.

  Coming Soon: Wicked Betrayal

  Nothing beats being locked up

  in supernatural juvie.

  If only murdering someone

  wasn’t my only way out.

  Framed by the head of the Seeker's Guild and sent to Darkwater to serve a life sentence, I'm doomed. The prison is located in the fae world, on an island in the middle of a forbidding sea. Wizards sent there never return.

  The moment I arrive, I’m forced to take a series of initiation tests with a snar
ky, too-hot fellow inmate. If the creatures trying to kill us don’t do him in, I just might. Yet my birth father's at Darkwater, and while he could be the warden, a guard, or a fellow inmate, I’m determined to track him down. He stole something from me when I was a baby, and I want it back.

  Once I get what I came for, there are two ways out. Survive the Challenge—another series of trials that take place in the ever-changing, magical catacombs beneath the prison, and they’ll send me to pre-release at Darkwater Reformatory. Or I can fulfill the secret blood bond I made with the Head Seeker. Eliminate a fellow inmate and the Head Seeker will transport me home.

  …Except the inmate I must kill is the wizard I'm falling for.

  Wicked Betrayal is Book 1 in the Darkwater Reformatory Series. Look for Book 2, Wicked Challenge, and Book 3, Wicked Rebellion, coming soon.

  Chapter one is on the next page…

  Chapter 1

  The beady glass eyes of the stone wexal cat statue watched me as I fidgeted in the front lobby of the Seeker’s Guild Headquarters.

  At least, I thought it was a wexal cat, with its large, pointed ears, sleek face with luxurious silver whiskers, and a long, bushy tail. Three-feet tall and about the size of a bobcat, wexals had been extinct for over a thousand years. I’d only seen images of them in books. This one had an inky-ebony coat, as richly black as the magical threads my sister, Fleur, used to create power.

  The cat sat on its haunches and whenever I glanced away from it, I swore it inched closer. But I didn’t catch it moving. Except for those damn glowing green eyes. They tracked my every movement. If I’d come across it in the wild, I would’ve turned and bolted in the opposite direction.

  For now, I couldn’t run.

  Almost an hour ago, an assistant had admitted me into the fortress and agreed—after some persuasion—to notify the Master Seeker I was here. I’d blurted out why I’d come, spilling my guts onto the floor like my boots shucked mud with every shift of my feet.

  Would the Seeker agree to see me?

  A clang drew my attention to the back of the room where the assistant wheeled a small serving cart into the foyer from a door to the left of the enormous staircase. Steam waffed from the pot, and the pungent, spicy aroma of hornwit tea scented the air.

  Bringing the cart to a halt in the middle of the two-story room, he studied me with one eyebrow lifted.

  My stomach rumbled. Only the fae knew when I’d last eaten.

  His eyebrow rose higher, and his gaze dipped to my belly. Fingers tightening on the cart’s handle as if he thought I’d wrench it from his grip, his lips thinned even further. If he kept at it, they’d disappear.

  Hornwit tasted nasty even if you dumped in a bunch of sweetener, so I’d beg water instead if I was offered a drink. But the cardamom pinta cookies arranged neatly on the pretty plate looked as yummy as the ones my stepdad made. Those, I’d happily devour, and then lick the crumbs off the plate.

  “When can I see the Master Seeker?” I asked. No cringing in the corner for me. I needed information, and I’d been told only the Master could deliver. Katya, a spider sorceress, had demanded a stiff price for this location, but coming here had put me one step closer to my goal.

  It hadn’t been easy to track down the Guild’s hidden stone fortress high in the Icean Mountains. With only one known flit transport option in the area, I’d had to walk here from the center. I’d hiked for nearly two days, only crashing in the small tent I’d carried on my back when I couldn’t make my feet take another step farther. I’d carried water but nowhere near enough food.

  “Ramseff will give you ten minutes,” the assistant intoned. Tall and skinny enough you might miss him if he stood sideways, he strode behind the cart toward the parlor on my right, his long robe brushing the floor. The solidary cup and porcelain teapot on the top of the cart clinked with the movement. Without saying anything else, he entered the parlor.

  An expanse of polished tenet wood floor stretched between me and the parlor. My boots, coated with muck, would leave a mess, something my mom would’ve scowled at me for doing. It was one thing to hang out on the rug with clods of mud falling off my feet but another to mess with that pristine surface.

  The weight of the cat’s gaze cut through me as I shucked my boots and, on stockinged feet, scurried after the assistant. I paused in the arched entry. The room was made up of one wall with a bank of curtained windows, another with a huge granite fireplace, and the final two with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.

  An older guy sat on a green sofa, squishing back on the cushions. Like the cat, he watched me; a common theme in this place.

  The assistant settled the teapot, cookies, and single mug onto the low table in front of the man I assumed must be the Master Seeker—the most powerful Seeker of us all.

  What to do? Should stride into the room or hover here and tell the assistant I’d made a mistake and I’d come back later?

  No. The assistant had said I had ten minutes. I’d be a fool to waste them.

  My shoulders collapse when I contemplated how challenging it had been to get here only to be told I had mere minutes to plea my case. Weeks searching for any scrap of a clue had been followed by my deal with Katya then flitting to the base and hiking through dense woods to get to this location. In minutes, I’d be standing outside, dreading the long walk back to the flit center. Worrying about the eyes that had tracked me as I hurried along the forest path.

  Need made my back stiffen. With a lift of my chin, I walked as calmly as possible over to a high-back wooden chair that had been placed opposite the sofa. I dropped down onto the hard surface and met the intense, milky blue gaze of the Master Seeker.

  The apprentice wheeled the cart from the room, leaving us alone in ticking silence.

  “My assistant filled me in on why you’re here.” Ramseff scratched the side of his neck and then tugged on the hem of the black tunic down over his matching pants. The dark, seamless material was broken only by the white embroidered heron on his left pocket. “What can you—a lowly apprentice Seeker—offer me in exchange for this information?”

  So much for the social niceties like, how are you, let alone a would you like a cookie? The glare he shot me twisted his elderly face.

  It looked like my odds of convincing him to help me were dropping by the second.

  My body twitched, but I kept my face neutral. Yes, I needed information. And yes, I’d pay almost any price to obtain it. But the last thing I needed was for him to catch a whiff of my desperation.

  “I’m a Level Five Seeker, now,” I said, hoping only I heard the shake in my voice. “No longer an apprentice.”

  “Tria, Tria, Tria.” His snort cut through my confidence, and he lowered his head and slowly shook it. “At best, you’re a Level Three, child.” Leaning forward, he poured hornwit tea into the mug and lifted it. His long gray hair brushed his shoulders as he pressed back into the sofa. Examining me over the mug’s rim, he sipped his drink. “Toying with a Level Five does not make you a full Seeker.” He lowered his cup back onto the table with a dull thud.

  Dragging my gaze from the cookies and hoping I wasn’t drooling, I steadied my feet on the hardwood floor. “I’m close to a Level Five,” I offered reluctantly. Levels were fluid, meaning on one day I might generate a Level Five spell only to find it impossible to go higher than a Level Two after that. But I studied all the time and was determined to solidify the highest Level as soon as possible. Only with endless practice would I be able to consistently create a Level Five spell and be able to say I’d mastered the Level.

  Movement out of the corner of my eye drew my attention. I jolted and couldn’t hold in my gasp.

  The wexal cat sat on the granite slab in front of the fireplace, it’s green eyes trained on me.

  I turned back to Ramseff to comment, and he stared past my shoulder blankly, as if his mind had left the room already. Another peek toward the fireplace showed the cat was gone. Had I imagined it being there?

  “What a
re you looking at?” the Master Seeker growled. “You seem distracted. Is our conversation too boring for you?”

  “No! It’s just…”

  Ramseff brushed my sputtering aside like a pesky nat. “Spit it out, girl. Just what?” His chest rose and fell as he heaved out a sigh.

  “I need to find my birth father, Bastian Spires.” It felt odd to speak his name out loud, as if I revealed something I shouldn’t. For my entire life, I’d kept my true parentage a secret, claiming the sketar witch who’d raised me was my blood father. When I’d transferred to Crystal Wing Academy and met my grandfather and half-sister, I’d hoped my grandfather could tell me where Bastian might be hiding, but most believed he was dead.

  I’d been unconvinced. If he was dead, I’d…know.

  In exchange for a few rare trinkets, Katya had verified Bastian was alive. But the sorceress had been unable to reveal anything else, stating only the Head Seeker could pinpoint my birth father’s exact location.

  “I must say, I admire your ingenuity,” Ramseff said. “Few are capable of locating our headquarters. Of those who find their way here, only one or two are able to get past my assistant’s wards. But you’re the first who dares come to beg a favor. Because you’ve impressed me with your efforts, and to prove how kindhearted I am, I’ll give you the information you seek at no cost.”

  My spine perked up. “You will?” I’d thought I’d search for years before I got the chance to confront my father.

  “He’s at Darkwater Prison.”

  “My father’s in jail?” I barked. Darkwater had been built on a remote island in the middle of a fathomless sea. In the fae kingdom. Beyond a veil. I stiffled my groan. Only those with authorization or special magic were allowed to part the veil separating Earth from the fae kingdom. Ages ago, the fae had split rather than go to war, and many of them had come here to settle. They’d created the veil to keep the two groups from crossing over and killing each other. Sure, some Sídhe were allowed to travel to the fae kingdom—mostly for diplomatic missions—but the opportunity was rare.