Light Fae Academy: Year Two
Page 1
Light Fae Academy Year Two
Nala Kingsley
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Other Books By Nala Kinglsey
About the Author
Voodoo Sector © 2020 Nala Kingsley
Cover Art © 2020 Ryn Katryn, Digital Art
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Chapter 1
I’m ready to go now, but Mom is taking forever to make dinner exactly right. It’s almost as if she’s stalling, and she probably is.
“Are you looking forward to going back?” Bay asks me lazily.
I glance over at my twin sister. She’s leaning against my doorframe, a teasing smiling curling her lips. She’s beautiful. We both have super long white hair, purple eyes, and clear translucent wings, but our body languages and our clothing style should be more than enough of a clue as to which twin is which.
Of course, there had been that whole screw-up about that last year with Sage, but I’m not going to think about that right now.
“I’m ecstatic,” I say.
Bay laughs and brushing her hair back. “You look ready to jump out of your wings,” she teases.
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“I don’t think there are many things worse than a fairy without her wings,” she says dryly. “It’s so very painful, not just physically but emotionally too.”
“Yet we have windows and doors, and we walk half of the time we’re in buildings,” I point out.
"Not in the olden days. Then, we flew around and lived in trees or wherever else we could."
“Um, Bay, we live in a tree,” I point out.
She waves her hand. "A hollowed-out tree-not one with walls and rooms and all of this."
I shrug. “Yes, we have more stuff, we’re more materialistic, but you can’t deny that human technology isn’t so bad.”
“You’ll hear no complaints about it from me. Mom, though…”
We roll our eyes and giggle.
“Tomorrow morning,” I say, all bubbly. “We’re going to leave right away, right?”
“Not first light,” she says, “but early enough. I’m sure you’ll want to see the fairy of your dreams as soon as possible. Did you two text at all over the two-month break?”
Wounded, I avert my gaze. Light Fae Academy is three years with two-month breaks in between. Bay and I are in our second year. Only one more year after this one, and we can go ahead and be productive members of the fairy community. Sounds perfect, right? Not really. Not at all.
I have one year under my belt, and I have no idea what I want to do with my life once we graduate, and I also don’t know how to convince Sage that I’m the fairy of his dreams in return.
“Girls,” Mom calls.
Bay grimaces. “I hate it when she calls us girls,” she grumbles.
“Force of habit,” I say.
Bay just shakes her head. “You’re always making excuses for people, giving them outs when it’s not deserved.”
“Mom’s hard on us, but it’s because she loves us.”
“She’s not hard on us. She doesn’t even mother us, and you want to know why?” Bay continues without waiting for me to answer. “It’s because she smothers us.”
“Let’s eat, sleep, and then go to the academy!” I start to breeze by her.
Bay murmurs behind me, “You didn’t disagree with me.”
Because I can’t. She makes a good point, and I can’t tell a lie. No fairies can. If we try, no words will come out. Some kind of magic that I don’t understand, and no living fairy does either. It’s lost to us the reasoning behind it. A curse? A blessing? I don’t know. Maybe a witch and a fairy dated eons ago, and he lied and cheated on her, and she cursed the entire fairy race to never be able to lie again. On the other wing, it could’ve been a male witch and a female fairy. Not all female fairies are light. Some are dark.
Like my sister.
There's no denying it. Her wings are looking a little darker. All break long, they've gotten darker. Even when she had been supplying fellow students with fairy dust last year at the academy, her wings hadn't changed color. I haven't asked her about it, and I will. On the flight over. I'm almost looking forward to that conversation more than I am going back to school.
Bay and I fly down to the table. Mom’s made an elaborate spread of call kinds of honey related dishes, some crackers and cheese too.
“Any honey wine?” Bay asks as she sits beside Dad.
“Honey mead,” Dad says.
Bay grimaces.
“Do not pout,” he says.
“I’m not.” She sighs. “You have to make an issue out of everything.”
“No. It’s you who has the issues.”
She side-eyes him. “My issues all stem from you, Daddy dearest.”
He snorts, and I just shake my head. A long time ago, I accepted that Bay is Dad’s favorite. I think Mom is more objective and doesn’t have one. Or maybe her favorite varies from day to day. That’s probably it.
“Let’s eat,” Mom urges. “Sit, Rosemary.”
I comply. “Everything looks great, Mom.” I reach toward a honey cake.
She slaps my hand. “That’s for after dinner.”
I whistle innocently.
“I would’ve thought you ate enough honey cakes already,” Dad says.
“Never.”
“Who brought this one over?” Bay asks as she helps herself to a ton of cheese and nowhere near enough crackers for them. She stacks three cheese squares onto a cracker, debates, adds another, and they all fall down. With a shrug, she picks one up and plops it into her mouth.
“I’m not even sure,” Mom says. “The labels came off some, but you have a lot of admirers, Rosemary.”
I make a face. “They’re just happy I helped a little with…” I drop my gaze to my plate.
Bay snorts. “You—”
“Don’t snort,” Mom cuts in.
“Dad, is it ruder to snort or to interrupt?” Bay asks.
Dad swallows his bite and then gulps down some of his honey mead before answering. “It’s ruder to pause a conversation with your sister than either of those.”
Bay huffs a sigh that’s more for show than anything. “You don’t have to fly lightly with me. I just wish I realized what a bad fairy Spring turned out to be.”
“Bad fairy,” I echo. It intrigues me that she said bad instead of dark, and I glance over at Dad, taking in his black translucent wings.
“Now, now, do we really have to talk about something like that when we’re trying to have a nice family meal?” Mom asks. “Rosemary, get more food.”
“Yes, Mom.” I help myself and start to eat, not reall
y paying attention to what I’m eating.
“I am very proud of you,” Mom says. “What you did very well could have saved lives. A true light fairy through and through.”
I beam. “Thank you, Mom.”
“But you also nearly gave me a heart attack. I could’ve died myself to learn about what you did! Going up against a thief is one thing but an arsonist? You knew she was dangerous.”
“Mom, what’s done is done,” I say quietly. “There’s no point in worrying about it all now.”
“Done and over with, I hope,” she says. “This year, I want both of you to promise that you won’t get mixed up in anything like that.”
“We promise,” I say with a grin. Just like last year, I’m trying to help Bay out so she doesn’t have to try to word play her way around a promise she can’t quite keep.
But Mom’s not letting that work a second time. She stares Bay down.
“I won’t get mixed up with thieves or arsonists,” Bay says dryly.
I cover my mouth to hide my smirk.
“Or murderers or anything dangerous.” Mom shudders.
“Mom, you’re overreacting,” I protest.
“Am I? I don’t think so. It’s bad enough that your sister…”
Bay slams her palms onto the table. “You promised me that you wouldn’t bring it up anymore, that I would do what you wanted these two months, and my slate would be wiped clean. I did my time. I did everything you asked of me and without uttering one peep. No complaints.”
“You can’t deny what you did,” Dad says quietly.
“I’m not denying it,” Bay says, “but a clean slate—”
“The slate is never wiped entirely clean,” he continues in a tone that suggests he’s speaking from personal experience.
Bay and I exchange a glance. We both know Dad’s a dark fairy. Dark fairies aren’t necessarily evil, but we do know that he’s done things that he won’t tell us. It’s aggravating, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be too bad. Mom never would’ve fallen in love with him if that had been the case.
They make a gorgeous couple, Mom with her short white hair and blue eyes, Dad with his black hair and reds eyes. Neither of them looks old enough to be our parents. Granted, fairies do live longer than humans do, but still. They look young and healthy.
But if Mom keeps worrying so much and if Dad keeps his secrets, they both might start to look older than their years.
Oh well. I’m not going to have any worries at all. In fact, I’m going to make a vow to myself. I will not make the same mistakes as last year. This year is going to be the best year yet. I can just feel it in the tip of my wings. It’s going to be my year.
Chapter 2
Shortly after the first rays of the sun are shining, I’m ready to go, impatiently waiting for Bay. When I can’t handle the wait any longer, I fly over to her room and knock. Without hesitating, I push the door open to see Bay standing from sitting on her bed.
“You’re ready?” I ask, surprised. I assumed she wasn’t or else she would’ve told me.
“Just need to say goodbye to Mom and Dad,” she mumbles.
“What’s so wrong about that?”
She just stares at me.
“Oh.” I purse my lips. The whole fairy dust thing.
“But you did your time, like you said. Forgive and forget.”
“You know Mom. She never forgets. She always brings stuff up even from years ago. You’re her favorite.”
“I am not,” I protest.
“Yes, you are.” She gapes at me. “You really don’t see that? You two are so much alike.”
“I am nothing like Mom.”
She just eyes me.
“I’m not!” I protest.
Bay winks. "I'm just messing with you. Come on. Hopefully, Mom won't try to get me to make her anymore promises."
Mom and Dad hug and kiss us, and Dad talks over Mom some, and it’s clearly in an effort to prevent her from doing what Bay’s worried about, and finally, we’re off, flying away. Our parents sent our trunks to the academy a few days ago, so we don’t have to worry about lugging them ourselves.
“You know, Mom’s still letting you stay on campus,” I say.
“Yes.” Bay doesn’t say anything else as we continue to fly.
My heart squeezes. For the most part, Bay is anything but reserved. She's fun-loving energetic. She's the kind of fairy everyone gravitates to. Girl fairies want to be her, and the boy fairies all want to sleep with her.
Even Sage, the fairy of my dreams, wanted to be with her, maybe even only dated me because he thought I was Bay. Yeah, and I only found out that he thought I was Bay all along because he said, "I really like you, Bay," after we slept together. I gave my virginity to a fairy who thought he had sex with my twin. That had been a low blow, but the kicker? I channeled Bay in an effort to get him to like me, so he and I both didn't know if he would like the real Rosemary.
“Bay, can we talk a second?” I ask, stopping and hovering in the air.
She sighs and does the same.
“What exactly did Mom and Dad have you do for the two months?” I ask.
Bay never volunteered what our parents made her do to atone for her sins, but it had to be more than just chores around our treehouse.
My twin flicks her hair over her shoulder. “It’s over and done with, just like your shit last year. Can we not worry about it?”
“I’m sorry.” I bite my lower lip. “Bay?”
“What now?”
I wince at the level of irritation in her tone. “Forget it.”
“No. Out with it. You know you’ll only be able to hold off for so long before the question will burst out of you.”
I grin and shrug innocently. “Maybe?”
Bay just shakes her head and waves for me to go ahead.
“Your wings,” I start and then stop. I honestly have no idea how to broach this subject. Not all dark fairies have dark wings, but that’s how it tends to go.
Bay rolls her eyes, but she’s smirking a bit. “I did it for you,” she says.
“Did what?”
“The wings.” She gives them a flutter. “That asshole, worthless fairy of yours who wouldn’t stop giving you grief and misery all year last year… He and everyone else will be able to tell us apart like that.” She snaps her fingers.
“You… How did you change the color of your wings?” I gape at her. “You can’t just dye them like you can your hair.”
Her smirk grows as she runs her fingers through her hair. “I’ve toyed with that idea,” she murmurs.
“You have?” I squeal. “We won’t look anything alike then!”
“We still have the same nose and eye color and face shape and all of the rest,” she says dryly. “What does it matter if our hair is different?”
“Yeah, but wings…”
Fire and brimstone, she’s not answering me about how her wing color changed. Bay’s only evasive when she knows I won’t like the answer. Somehow, in between whatever errands and tasks she had to do for our parents, she still found the time and energy to do something to blacken her wings.
She starts to fly, but I reach out my hand to touch her wrist before she can breeze by me.
“Bay?”
“What now?”
“I promise to be there for you this year and always.”
A slow smile spreads across her face. “Oh, yeah? Because you think I need a babysitter?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Because you want to convince me to keep my hair white.”
“Nope.”
“Because you don’t want my wings to turn black like Dad’s.”
I say nothing.
“You know, his were like ours—well, yours and Mom’s—before they turned black,” she says.
“I didn’t know that,” I murmur.
Bay eyes me and smiles even wider. “All right. Fine. You want to be there for me, be there for me. Let’s live together this year.”
“Yeah, we didn’t last year. You assumed I wouldn’t want to. You were going to make the same assumption this year too, huh?”
“I… I hadn’t thought about it,” I say slowly, “much.”
She bursts out laughing. “Why, Rosemary, I do believe you’re using word play to get away with twisting the truth in your favor. That’s not very light fae of you.”
“Oh, hush,” I say good-naturedly. “I’m sure Orchid and Wren and Dahlia won’t mind.”
Too much, I add in my mind. Orchid might be my best friend, but she’s not the biggest Bay fan, so this will be interesting for sure.
“Oh, um, do you want Holly to be in our cottage too?” I ask, really hoping that’s not the case. I swear that fairy wants to be my sister in a way that’s unhealthy.
“Oh, she transferred to another school,” Bay says idly. “Come on. I thought you wanted to be there by now.”
We take off, zooming, flying swiftly. The clouds above and the grass below are blurs of color, and finally, we arrive at Light Fae Academy.
It looks the same as it had last year, at the start of last year. Every building that had been marred or destroyed by a fire has been either fixed or rebuilt entirely. Everything looks so perfect and familiar.
As if my eyes want to disprove that, my gaze lands on someone who is decidedly not familiar. Of course, all first-year students are going to be strangers, but there’s just something about this fairy that screams attention.
Black hair in a pompadour. Dark eyes. Wings almost as dark as Dad’s. A devilish smile to go with it. My heart skips a beat for some reason when he looks in our direction even though he clearly doesn’t notice us.