Light Fae Academy: Year One

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Light Fae Academy: Year One Page 7

by Nala Kingsley


  Why in the world did I have to make such a colossal mess of things?

  It’s late, very late by the time I enter through the open window. I don’t know how long I slept in Sage’s arms, but I don’t feel refreshed at all.

  Although I try to be quiet and even slip right into bed without getting changed first, Orchid sits up.

  “Well?” she asks. “I assume it went well considering how late it is. I almost thought you wouldn’t be back until morning.”

  “It went well,” I echo.

  Moonlight spills through the open window, the curtains ruffling slightly in the breeze. Her frown seems to soak up the light. “No details?”

  “Maybe in the morning,” I offer.

  Her frown lingers as I lie down. She and I both know that this isn’t like me. Whenever Sage and I eat together, I always tell her all about whatever we talked about. For me to be silent after a date means it didn’t go entirely well.

  Morning comes, but I hardly slept. I missed the feel of Sage’s arms and his warmth, plus I kept repeating, “It went well” in my mind.

  A little white lie. Or at least the closest I've ever come to lying. I'm becoming more like Bay every day.

  That’s not fair. I’m not perfect. Far from it. For too long, it’s been easy for me to pretend Bay’s the troublemaker, but that’s not true. A fair number of times when we got into trouble, the instigator had been me. More or less, I would come up with the idea and convince Bay to do whatever that idea was.

  I’m not as pure and light as I thought I was, and the icing on that honey cake comes to fruition in the Magic of Music. At the beginning of every class, Professor Fern calls on a student to try to play their instrument magically rather than as a human would so that the students can all start class relaxed or energized or whatever she wants us to be.

  For the first time, she calls me to the front. “I think the harp lends itself very well toward relaxation, don’t you agree?”

  “I guess,” I mumble.

  And I try. I honestly do try, but I can't relax, and the magic won't come, and there's no music. Not even badly played notes. Nothing at all. No sound at all.

  “Hmm.” Professor Fern eyes me curiously before allowing me to sit back down and calling forth another student.

  Great. She already hates me for not practicing her harp as much as she thinks I should, and now this. She’s going to think I just took the harp with me to appease her and not actually practice, which isn’t the case at all.

  Once her class is finally done, I wait until most of the fairies fly off to even stand.

  “Rosemary, are you all right?” the professor asks.

  I wait until the last student flies away to say, “I will be.”

  “I hope so. I know you can do a lot with the harp, more than most of the other students are capable of.”

  “I just…” I shrug.

  “If you need someone to talk to—”

  “I’ll talk to someone.” I shrug again and fly away.

  Lunchtime. I make a beeline for Orchid. Unfortunately, that means I have to fly right past Sage. He calls out, “Daredevil,” but I can’t. I just can’t. All I do is turn around, smile and wink at him, and then wave and keep on flying to Orchid.

  “Why are you avoiding Sage?” she whispers, having witnessed the exchange.

  I say nothing.

  “Rosemary, please, talk to me.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Orchid appraises me for a minute, nods as if to herself, and then flies away.

  Perfect. My life is so utterly perfect.

  Not.

  Chapter 14

  Honestly, I am not up for my last two classes of the day, but what choice do I have? I’m not about to sit around and do nothing but mope. I would rather pull on my wings than mope. Sulking just isn’t something I do. Now, Bay, she’s the one who sulks when Mom and Dad used to tell us no. Not anymore, though. We’ve basically had complete freedom since we moved to the academy, outside of going home every so often for a visit. Mom and Dad basically wanted to make sure we didn’t forget about them or their rules, which, of course we haven’t. We know all of the rules, but that doesn’t mean we always follow them without fail.

  I sure didn’t with Sage.

  A pang of regret hits me. I shouldn’t have been such a coward. I should tell him the next chance I get that I’m Rosemary, not Bay. And that chance should be right now in Alchemy.

  Only Sage doesn’t show up.

  “Why the long face?” Orchid asks me after class.

  Tears prickle my eyes, and I don’t bother to blink them away. “I thought maybe you weren’t talking to me.”

  “No one likes to be ignored,” she says softly, “but I can tell you’re going through something, and I don’t want to add to your stress.”

  “You’re a good friend,” I tell her.

  "Yeah. Probably a better friend than you deserve," she teases.

  “Definitely a better friend than I deserve.”

  She grins and waits.

  “I need to talk to Sage.”

  "You ignored him earlier, and now you want to talk to him? Are you trying to play hard to get and changed your mind?"

  “I…” I shake my head. “I’m not ready to get into the specifics yet, but—”

  “Fire!” someone calls from outside the classroom.

  We’re the last two to leave, but we shoot out of there as if it’s our wings that are on fire. Outside is pandemonium. Fairies are flying every which way, even colliding in mid-air. It’s not hard to see the smoke plume, though, and Orchid and I zoom over.

  “Please, back away,” a professor says.

  Several others are trying to hold back the fairies. One of the dorms is burning.

  “Is anyone inside?” a fairy asks.

  “My roommate was!” a fairy says, shoving her way toward the professors. “Please, you have to let me in. Wren wasn’t feeling well, so she opted not to go to her afternoon classes, and—”

  “Delia, I’m fine,” says a worn, tired-sounding voice.

  Delia whirls around to see a fairy draped in a blanket, held up by two professors. She didn’t look like she could fly all that well, and I wouldn’t be shocked if she plummeted to the ground if they released their hold on her.

  Another fairy professor flies over. “It seems that she was the only one inside. Now, we can put this blaze out.”

  Half of the professors keep the crowds at bay. The rest hold out their hands and conjure water to put out the fire, but they’re too late. All that remains is a burnt, worn, useless frame.

  “What are we going to do now?” Wren mumbles.

  “We will find you and the rest of the students from this dorm room a new room,” Professor Ruby says.

  “I don’t understand it,” another fairy student says. “My dad used to work here. He told me there are all kinds of spells for protection over all of the buildings. How can one of them have caught on fire?”

  One fairy who I'm pretty sure is a third-year narrows his eyes. "I don't sense the protection magic," he murmurs.

  “Could the fire have disrupted it?” someone else cries.

  “Please, students, let’s not jump to conclusions,” a professor says firmly, but the professors have no control whatsoever.

  “The protection spells are gone.”

  “No one would have been safe there.”

  “The spells had to have been dispelled.”

  “Which means that the fire might not have been an accident.”

  “Are you suggesting arson?”

  I gasp and meet Orchid’s gaze.

  “First thefts,” she says, her voice loud and angry. “How many thefts? A dozen? A dozen and a half? And not a single item has been recovered and now this? Arson?”

  “What is the meaning of all of this?” the headmaster booms, appearing out of nowhere. Headmaster Caliphe is a formidable fairy, with a thin, severe nose, thin lips with bright red coloring that match
her ruby-red eyes. Her hair is longer, longer than mine, a silver hue that lends her an ageless quality. She commands respect wherever she goes.

  Instantly, most of the students scatter, suddenly realizing they had other places to be, but Orchid and I remain, although we do hang back a bit, so we aren't immediately noticed by the professors.

  “That student is right,” one of the professors whispers. “The magical wards of protection have been disrupted.”

  “This fire is natural, though,” says another.

  “What does all of this mean?” Wren whispers. She and her roommate also remain. Wren’s face is half covered in ashes, and she coughs.

  “Why are they here?” the headmaster asks.

  “My roommate was the last one to leave,” Delia says. “She was inside when the fire started!”

  “I see.” The headmaster appraises Wren. “Did you see or hear anything?”

  “I was asleep,” Wren says. “I wasn’t feeling well, and—”

  "Go to the infirmary," the headmaster says with a wave of her hand. Her eagle-eyed gaze falls on Orchid and me. She bristles. "Orchid, I do feel terrible that your—"

  “A lost talisman is one thing,” Orchid says stiffly. “A fire is far more dangerous. What measures do you have in place to ensure this doesn’t happen again?”

  “We must locate the source of the fire—”

  “You mean the fairy responsible for setting it,” Orchid says coolly.

  “A natural fire would never have started because of the protection spells,” I add.

  “Yes, yes, we know all of that,” the headmaster says impatiently. “I would appreciate it greatly if you would keep your theories and thoughts about this close to your chest.”

  Orchid’s arms dangle by her side, her fists tight. Her face is nearly white, and I haven’t seen her this angry before, not ever.

  “I’m starting to wonder about this academy,” Orchid says. “You’ll let any fairy come here. Any fairy at all. Their gold is as good as any others, right? It doesn’t matter if they have more darkness than light. Light Fae Academy. It should be Any Rich Fae Academy.”

  “Orchid, that’s quite enough,” Professor Ruby cuts in.

  “You can’t silence me,” Orchid says. “You haven’t been able to stop the thief or thieves, and now there’s an arsonist?”

  “We don’t know that for certain,” another professor tries to claim.

  “I’m not stupid,” Orchid says stiffly. “I just wonder how many delinquents attend the academy. Have the thieves turned arsonists, or are there that many students who have no sense of morals or decency?”

  “Orchid—” the headmaster starts.

  “Come on, Rosemary.” Orchid glares at the professors and then turns and flies off.

  I hesitate before zooming after her.

  “We should go to the infirmary,” Orchid says without looking over at me.

  “Anything you want,” I inform her.

  Now, she glances my way. "We tried so hard to find the talisman," she murmurs. "My luck, my happiness… None of it has been good, but once I gave up and concerned the talisman lost to me forever, I've been able to accept things as they are. After this, though… I don't know what to think, but it's not right. We should be able to feel safe here. Do you feel safe?"

  “I… I don’t know,” I admit.

  We fly in silence. She's not wrong. Orchid and I tried everything we could think of to locate her talisman. All kinds of spells, using her hair, even her blood. That's serious magic right there, using blood, especially fairy blood. Not one of the spells worked, though.

  Before we reach the infirmary, Orchid halts, hovering in mid-air. “This school isn’t very light anymore,” she whispers.

  “You aren’t thinking about leaving, are you?” I ask. “You can’t leave.”

  “I won’t,” she promises, “but I want to. They haven’t done enough to stop all of this nonsense. Sure, there hasn’t been a theft in five days. There might be one tomorrow or the next day or both days. People do what they want, and they get away with everything.”

  I gulp as a very human phrase comes to mind.

  “I just hope no one tries to get away with murder,” I whisper.

  Chapter 15

  Two minutes later, we enter the infirmary. The fairy nurse on duty is just leaving Wren’s side, and we fly over.

  “We’re sorry about everything,” Orchid says.

  “You’re the fairy who had something stolen, aren’t you?” Wren asks.

  “Wren!” Delia protests. “You don’t just say that to someone you’ve just met.”

  “It’s fine. I’m Orchid, and this is my roommate Rosemary.”

  “Roommate,” Wren repeats bitterly. “At least you have a room. You have a dorm. Us… We have nothing. Just the clothes on our backs.”

  “At least your coloring is back,” Orchid says lamely.

  Wren stares at her without blinking.

  “You’re right,” I say as soothingly as I can. “We have a dorm and a room. Why don’t you two move into our room? I know we only just met, but it’s the least we can do.”

  “Yes,” Orchid says. “We’re more than happy to have—”

  “Your room only has two beds,” Delia says.

  “And I’m sure the academy can provide two more,” I add.

  “Only two desks,” Wren says.

  “We can share them,” Orchid offers.

  “That’s very generous of you,” Delia says.

  Wren grimaces. “Yes, generous enough, I suppose, but there’s only one issue.”

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “I don’t want to go to this school anymore.”

  My eyes widen. Orchid looks as shocked as I feel. Even Delia seems a little taken aback.

  “We can just commute,” Delia suggests.

  Wren shakes her head. “No. They don’t care enough about the students, and you know that better than most, Orchid. If they did care, they would’ve put a stop to the thefts a long time ago, but there was another one just yesterday.”

  “There was?” I blurt out.

  “The professors are doing a better job of keeping the students gagged about it,” Delia mutters.

  "Which only proves my point." Wren's eyes should be on fire. The emotions behind them are that strong and powerful. "They know about an on-going issue, and they're sweeping it under the rug instead of flying out, magic blazing to make this academy a beacon of light for all."

  I wince. “The vast majority of fairies aren’t only light or only darkness. We’re a mix.”

  “Yes, yes. Light fairies, good fairies, the so-called fairy godmothers of old.” Wren rolls her eyes.

  “Wren, be nice,” Delia says softly.

  “They’re trying to help, I know, but I don’t want help!” Wren says. Her frustration has her slamming her fist into her open palm. “It’s preposterous that all of this is an issue at all! How can the professors be good enough to teach us if they can’t keep the students in order? Why haven’t they been able to locate the lost items? None of this makes any sense.”

  I swallow hard. “Maybe it does,” I say slowly.

  The others look at me curiously, but I shake my head.

  “Not here. Not in the infirmary. Come to our room?”

  Delia looks at Wren, who considers and then nods.

  Swiftly, we fly toward our dorm and our room. Thankfully, it seems as if nothing of importance is happening right now. One fairy messenger is going around announcing that the last period class has been canceled, and we're all to go to our rooms or else the library for commuters. I shudder. The instructions sound more like commands than a suggestion, and it almost makes me feel as if we're under lock and key.

  Finally, we enter our room. I shut the window and even lock it and the door. Paranoid? Yes, but what I’m about to say could be dangerous if I’m right.

  I motion the girls to come closer and whisper, “What if the professors already know who the culprit or c
ulprits are?”

  “Then why aren’t they coming forward with that information?” Delia asks.

  Wren lowers her head, clearly thinking, so I don’t jump to answer right away. Suddenly, she stiffens, snaps her head up, and gapes at me.

  “If one of the professors is the guilty party,” I whisper.

  “No.” Orchid gasps. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Think about it,” I insist. “We’re powerful with our magic, but we aren’t professors. They would know how to hide the items that were stolen so no one else could locate them whether with magic or not.”

  “But that’s insanity!” Delia exclaims.

  “Hush,” Wren mumbles.

  “I know it’s crazy to even think about,” I say, “but it has to be someone really powerful.”

  “Or someones,” Orchid adds. “I… I don’t know what to think about this.”

  “It’s just a theory,” I rush to add. “I have no idea which professor could be involved—”

  “They might not be responsible,” Wren says slowly, “but they might be helping to cover the crimes up.”

  "Without proof, we can't possibly move forward on this," Delia says.

  I shrug. “All that means is that we need proof.”

  “My mind is blown,” Delia says, holding her head in her hands. “I can’t believe we’re even entertaining this idea.”

  “We’re entertaining it because it might be reality,” Wren says bitterly.

  “But what can we do about this?” Orchid asks. “It’s not as if we can examine their offices, and they wouldn’t be that ignorant and leave the stolen goods on campus anyhow.”

  I nod to Wren. “Now that we know that the thefts haven’t ever stopped, all we have to do is try to catch the thief in the act.”

  “Because that hasn’t been tried already,” Wren mutters. “No. I appreciate all of the conjecture, but it’s just a theory. Maybe it’s right, but it could be wrong. And if it is right, well, I don’t want to be instructed by thieves. I’m done here.”

  “You’re dropping out?” Delia cries.

  “I’ll commute for the rest of the semester,” Wren declares. “After that, I’ll transfer to another academy.”

 

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