Oberon Academy Book Four: The Queen

by Wendi Wilson

  I cupped my hands together once more, mentally calling to water. I imagined it forming a cube of ice. Something cold and hard that I could hold in the palm of my hand. I willed it so, and though it was really cold, the element formed as a liquid and slipped between my fingers to splatter on the wood floor.

  “Again.”

  I tried again as my grandfather commanded, garnering the same results. My shoulders drooped with defeat and I opened my mouth to surrender, but he cut me off.

  “It’s like you’re not even trying,” he hissed, his voice harsh and filled with venom.

  My head jerked at his tone, and I stared at him, my mouth falling open with shock. I expected him to huff out an apology for losing patience, but the only thing I got was a hard stare and more angry words.

  “Why am I even wasting my time here?” he snapped. “If you’re not going to put in even the barest minimum of efforts, why should I try to help you?”

  My shock ebbed as anger started to take over.

  “I am trying,” I gritted out in my own defense. “You need to give me some time to figure it out.”

  “Will the Zephyrs give you time in the heat of battle? Will Sebille give you a moment to form your weapon? I think not.”

  “That’s not the same thing,” I argued. “You’re not my enemy and we’re not in battle. I’m just learning.”

  “Excuses,” he spat. “I’m done here.”

  He turned on a heel and started stalking toward the door. I watched him go, my blood thumping in my ears as I tried to rationalize his behavior in my mind.

  He’d been nothing but kind to me since his big reveal in the woods that day. A doting grandfather. A patient teacher. Grateful to have his family back.

  Was it all an act? Was he fooling us, making us think he’d changed when he was really the same old Puck, pulling double agent against us, instead of for us?

  Anger burst inside me and I let it flow, filling my veins with hot energy as I watched him walk further and further away from me.

  “I wish I had an ice spear right now,” I mumbled, envisioning a bright red target right on his ass.

  My breath hitched as a burning sensation spread across my palm. I looked down as my fingers automatically tightened around the object that had formed there. I gasped, lifting it up to get a better look.

  A piece of ice shaped like a large icicle rested in my tight grip. The tip looked sharp and jagged, ready to do some real damage to someone.

  “Magnificent.”

  I stumbled back as Puck appeared right in front of me. I’d been so intent on my icy creation, that I hadn’t seen him turn and head back in my direction. He nimbly plucked the ice spear from my grip, smiled as his eyes drifted over it, then tossed it across the room. The spear shattered as it hit the floor, small bits of ice spreading in every direction.

  “Couldn’t have you stabbing me with that thing, now could we?” he asked when I looked back at him.

  “I thought you were leaving,” I gritted out between clenched teeth as I tried to hold onto my anger and not let hurt slip in and take its place.

  Grandfather’s hands streaked forward, gripping mine tightly before I had a chance to pull away.

  “I am sorry, December,” he said, his eyes wide and as honest as I’d ever seen them. “I did not mean any of it. I just thought, given your history, that if I invoked real anger inside you, the manifestation of ice would come easier to you.”

  My heartbeat slowed, the thumping of my pulse in my ears fading.

  “It was a test?” I mumbled, wide-eyed.

  “And it worked,” he said, smiling brightly. “I already knew you were powerful, but to see you in action…”

  “I could have killed you,” I said, cocking my head to the side.

  “I know,” he said, his smile never faltering. “And without even trying, I’d bet. How did you form it?”

  I could feel my face heating with embarrassment. He was my family, my grandfather, and I’d been just as quick to doubt him as a stranger relying on rumors. I felt terrible.

  “I thought…I thought everything I loved about you was a lie and I was angry,” I stuttered out. “I imagined stabbing you with an ice spear and it just sort of appeared. I-I’m sorry.”

  His face paled, his eyes widening with shock and glassy with unshed tears. Filled with guilt, I struggled to apologize again, squeezing his fingers that still held mine.

  “I’m sorry, Grandpa,” I said, trying to lighten the mood with the shortened nickname. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

  He shook his head, but his eyes remained locked on mine as tears dripped over and trickled down his cheeks.

  “Did you say…love?” he asked, his voice shaky and unsure.

  My head jerked back a little. Did I?

  I did.

  “I…uh—”

  “It’s okay,” he interjected. “I completely understand. It was simply…an expression. Not to worry. I won’t take it to heart.”

  “Stop,” I said, tightening my grip when he attempted to pull his hands from mine.

  He ceased his struggling, his eyes overflowing, a single teardrop skipping down each side of his face. My own eyes burned, and my vision blurred. I blinked away the tears and steeled my spine.

  Truth time.

  “I hated you for a long time,” I said, my voice low and soft. “You came here and tried to rip away everything I cared about. Once I found out the truth, I understood, but it’s still taken me some time to get to know the new you. You fixed what you broke. You gave me my mother. You’re training me to protect myself and the ones I love.”

  I paused, my eyes filling quickly with tears that ran over and spilled down my cheeks.

  “And that includes you.”

  He pulled me close and we hugged. We laughed. We cried.

  And we healed.

  CHAPTER 13

  The rest of the week sped by, while feeling like it went on forever at the same time. I had Shaela and Charles to hang out with and Blossom to snuggle with when I was alone. Classes were going well and keeping me busy the rest of the time.

  My mother was settling nicely into her new position and the students seemed to like her. Especially Tiana. I didn’t tell a soul, but I reinforced my Glamour every single day. Mom gave me long-suffering looks every time Tiana sucked up to her, but I held onto the illusion of pure innocence.

  No way was I letting that bitch hurt my sweet, amazing mother’s feelings with her devil’s tongue.

  Mom and Dad continued their courtship, which was adorable. He wooed her like they were a couple of teenagers experiencing the first throes of passion and true love.

  Like me and Easton.

  Or, at least, the way we were before.

  Finn continued to linger in the darkness, despite the healers’ best efforts. Freya sat by his side day and night, talking to him, begging him to come back to her. Nothing helped. Not the herbs or the tinctures. Not the healing powers of the strongest Sylphs in the area. Not his family’s soft-spoken pleas.

  There had been no change.

  As the days wore on, I saw less and less of Easton. When I did happen to cross paths with him, he was either in a hurry to get to some meeting or another, or he had his asshole of a father whispering God-knew-what into his ear.

  So, it was a total surprise when I opened my door to find him standing there in the hall, looking haggard and desperate on Friday afternoon.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Of course,” I said, moving quickly to the side and closing the door behind him.

  “Is Shaela around?” he asked, his eyes roving across the room.

  “No, she’s out with Charles. I don’t think she’ll be back tonight.”

  I didn’t know why I was whispering. Something about Easton and the moment felt fragile, like one wrong word would shatter the whole universe.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered, “I needed a break and…”

  “Hey,” I said, moving forward to slip my fing
ers through his, “I’ll always be here for you, and you never have to apologize for needing me.”

  “I know,” he sighed, pulling me into his embrace. “And thank you. I’m just so tired, I can’t think straight.”

  Without loosening my grip on him, I shuffled backwards, pulling him toward my bed. The backs of my knees hit the mattress sooner than I expected and I tumbled, pulling Easton down on top of me. He chuckled as he rolled off to the side, pulling me with him so we lay face-to-face.

  Once we were settled, I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair, gently pulling on the strands. His eyes drifted closed and a soft moan rumbled in his chest.

  “Talk to me,” I whispered. “Tell me everything.”

  “Just being here with you is enough.”

  When I didn’t say anything, his eyes popped open and he stared at me for a moment before rolling onto his back with a sigh. I propped up on an elbow so I could see his face and waited. He’d talk when he was ready.

  Which was about five seconds later.

  “I’m worried about Grandfather.” His eyes darted to mine, and I could see the dread in their ice-blue depths. “He’s not getting better. The healers can’t figure out what’s wrong with him and say that if he doesn’t wake up soon…”

  His words trailed off as he sucked in a shaky breath. He had spent most of his life with Finn, being cared for and groomed to be king one day. Finn was more of a father than Alwyn could ever dream to be, and it felt like Easton was on the verge of losing him.

  I struggled to find something to say, some magical words that would offer comfort and hope, but nothing came to me. The only person close to me I’d ever lost was Rowan Dobbs. My mentor and friend had been killed by poisoned alcohol, and I’d practically lost my mind with grief.

  And I’d only known him a short few weeks.

  I had no clue what to say to someone who was losing a parent. The thought of losing my own, after just barely finding them, filled me with dread.

  “It’s okay,” Easton whispered, his eyes roaming around the top of my head as he watched my aura. “You don’t have to say anything. Just being here with me is enough. It’s perfect.”

  I nodded, blinking back the stinging sensation as tears pricked my eyes. I needed to be strong for Easton. No way was I going to start crying and have him be the one comforting me.

  “I just don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” he added.

  “Cut out for what?”

  “Being king.”

  “What do you mean?” I blurted, sitting up in a rush so I could stare down at his face. “You would make an amazing king, Easton. You’re a good Sylph, but not only that, you’re a good person. You are kind, always put others before yourself, and have great dreams for the future of all Fae.”

  “But I’m still just a kid,” he replied, pulling me back down and pressing my cheek against his chest. “I know I’ve been training for this my whole life, but it wasn’t supposed to happen for another couple of hundred years, at least. I don’t think I’m ready.”

  “You’re ready,” I said, my voice firm and sure despite the niggling of doubt that whispered he was right. I shook off the uncertainty, and added, “It’s just a lot at once, dealing with your worry over your grandfather, the school, Sebille and her war, and being king. Then, just to make things more interesting, your dad shows up. He’s not harassing you, is he?”

  “Not really,” he said, but something in his voice told me different.

  I pushed myself up, propping my chin on a fist so I could see his eyes and his aura.

  “Tell me the truth,” I said.

  “He’s not harassing me,” he said. “He says he’s just trying to help, and he does have a lot of great ideas. Ways to delegate the responsibility. Solutions to problems that arise in the school and the rest of the kingdom.”

  He paused, his eyes searching mine for a moment before drifting shut. Ever so quietly, like he was making a secret confession that hurt his very soul, he whispered eight words that struck terror into my heart.

  “Maybe I should just let him be king.”

  “What?” I shouted, bolting upright.

  I couldn’t curb my response or my horrified expression and Easton flinched. I was sure I would inadvertently set the whole room on fire at any moment, because my emotions roiled out of control. I worked to slow my breathing and made myself calm down before I spoke again.

  “Easton, you don’t mean that. Anyone else would make a better king than that man.”

  “I don’t like feeling this insecure, D. It goes against my nature—you know how cocky I am.” He smiled at me, then his expression fell. “But I feel like a feather in the wind, being tossed around over and over, with no control over where I’ll land. My father has been trying to guide me, and his suggestions have been good ones, though I really hate admitting that. I just wish Finn would wake up and tell me what to do.”

  “You know what to do,” I asserted. “You’re just nervous because, yes, it’s a big responsibility. But Easton, you are the perfect person to take on that responsibility. You’ve been working toward this your whole life, and you have the whole Sylph community behind you.”

  “But—”

  “Nope,” I interrupted, leaning back down onto his chest. “No buts. Besides, you have me behind you, and I’m about as badass as they come.”

  My joke made him laugh, and I felt some of the tension ease out of his body. I had to get through to him, because in my eyes, there was no one better to take over for Finn…whether temporarily or permanently. No one. Especially not Alwyn Jameson.

  “Thank you, December,” he mumbled after several moments of silence.

  His voice was groggy, like he was on the verge of dozing off. I wrapped my arm around him and pressed my ear against his chest. I listened to his heartbeat as it slowed and his breathing softened into a steady rhythm.

  “I love you,” he murmured.

  “I love you, too,” I whispered back. “So much.”

  My own eyelids grew heavy and I gave myself up to the insistent pull of sleep. I dreamed of feathers and crowns and the feel of Easton’s lips on my skin.

  Wrapped in his arms, it was the best sleep I’d had since the morning I found out Finn was unconscious and this whole ordeal began. I woke up alone, but it was okay. I knew Easton had things to attend to.

  I just hoped he slept as well as I did and got some much-needed rest.

  And I hoped I got through to him. That he realized he was not only qualified to serve as king, he deserved it. He’d been training for it his whole life and would be a fair and just king. He just needed to believe in himself.

  Because if he didn’t and decided to pass the crown to his father…

  Finn needed to wake up. Soon.

  CHAPTER 14

  “So, if Sebille were to attack today, bringing thousands of Zephyrs with her to dominate us and take this place, what would you do?”

  Ms. Jeannie had the entire gym class gathered around her as she posed the question. It was Monday, and the weekend had dragged on after my night with Easton. I was ready to expend some energy, so this lecture or conversation or whatever it was had me dancing from foot to foot in agitation.

  My other classes were for talking. This was gym. I was ready to hit something.

  “We’d step back and let December Thorne kick her ass,” someone called out.

  My head swiveled in the direction of the voice, but with all eyes now trained on me, I couldn’t figure out who’d spoken. I felt my face heat up with embarrassment. I wasn’t used to being liked by my classmates, much less considered some kind of hero.

  In that moment, I missed having Easton beside me more than ever.

  “While Miss Thorne is truly a force to be reckoned with, we cannot depend solely on her to win an entire war for us. We need to be ready. And with that, I need you to move to the mats and partner up. Today, we’ll be fighting with magic as well as our hands. Keep it nonlethal, people. December, you’re
with me.”

  Relief warred with panic inside me. Relief that Ms. Jeannie took it upon herself to partner up with me since Easton wasn’t there. Panic that she was going to spar with me, because she was an unknown. Though she’d been my teacher for months, she usually only instructed and rarely demonstrated. I had no idea what she was capable of.

  And that made me nervous.

  I walked to an open area in the far corner and turned to find her right behind me. She was smiling, and the expression seemed genuine, so I smiled back. We stretched our limbs and rolled our shoulders, then took up position several feet from each other.

  “I almost paired you up with Miss Avery,” she said, her smile turning mischievous, “but you looked antsy, like you really needed to work out some tension, and decided against it. While I believe that princess needs to be taken down a notch or two, I don’t want her seriously hurt. Not in my class.”

  I chuckled, finding myself suddenly really liking my instructor. I’d never disliked her, but she’d always just kind of been there in the background. Plus, my focus had been entirely on besting Easton Oberon in this class.

  “So, let’s see what you’ve got,” she called out, crouching into a defensive stance.

  I thought about the ice spear I’d made the week before with Grandfather, but decided against it. If it took too long or I couldn’t do it, Ms. Jeannie would be all over me before I could defend myself. I needed something to take her down, and quickly.

  An idea formed in my mind and I ran with it, hoping it would be enough.

  I called to fire, forming a blue-green ball of flames in my palm. I saw Ms. Jeannie smirk as she stalked forward, keeping her knees bent and her hands out in front of her. I steadied my breathing, keeping my face blank until she was close enough for my plan to work.

  She took another step forward and I conjured water, making the fireball in my hand hiss. The result was a large poof of steam, which I quickly directed toward her face with a gust of wind. Her eyes closed against the hot steam and she took a step back.