Fae Trials: A Paranormal Academy Bully Romance (Royal Fae Academy Book 1)

by Sofia Daniel

  “You,” he whispered.

  All the anxiety I’d kept in a tight ball since reading her letter escaped my lungs in a loud sob. My gaze darted around the clearing to the trees that bordered the mushroom circle and beyond. There was no sign of anyone but the peacekeepers standing in front of the kissing trees.

  I turned back to the winged creature spluttering on the ground and hardened my heart. Now wasn’t the time to feel sympathy for someone who routinely condemned humans to decades of slavery. Sicily was missing, and I needed answers.

  I crawled over to the injured faerie and grabbed his lapels. “Where’s my sister?”

  “This is your doing.” His black eyes seared through my soul with its hatred, and dark blood oozed from the corners of his mouth.

  “What did your friends do with my sister?” I asked. Sicily couldn’t have completed the bargain. The dark faeries must have taken her away out of spite.

  His lips spread into a pained grin of those horrible teeth. “My brothers. They believe in a life for a life.”

  Terror seized my throat in its clawed grip, cutting off my air. I forced out the words, “She’s dead?”

  “Worse,” he said with a gurgle.

  “You, there,” shouted one of the peacekeepers from the edge of the clearing. “Put your hands up.”

  I held onto his leather jacket as though he would disappear if I let go. “Did they take her to the Mound? Which level?”

  “My blood is on your hands, and I am close to death,” he rasped.

  I snatched my hands away from his lapels and wiped my wet fingers on my jeans. “Tell me where to find her, and I’ll take you to a healer—”

  “With my dying breath, I curse you,” he strained out the words. “My destiny is now yours.”

  “Wait…” Whatever I was going to say died in the back of my throat.

  The dark faerie heaved a breath and closed his eyes. Silver tendrils of power rose from between his lips, reminding me of the will-o’-the-wisps that meandered through the dark to lure travelers into bogs.

  I scrambled back on my hands through the scorched earth, trying to dodge the mist, but my leg skidded over a wet patch, and I fell into the spongy surface of an oversized mushroom.

  In the blink of an eye, the silvery mist surged into my chest, stealing my air.

  “Stop—” I reached out at the faerie, trying to tell him to cease the attack, but he was unmoving and probably dead.

  Power swirled through my insides, tying everything into painful knots. My lungs shriveled into my frantic heart, which clattered against my ribs.

  I tried to suck in a breath, but it caught in the back of my throat. Was this the curse? To die painfully by suffocation just as he had been killed by iron? My eyes bulged, and I scratched at my throat, gasping for air.

  Pain lanced through my shoulder blades, making me arch my back.

  I tried to scream, but no words came out. I tried twisting around to wave at the approaching peacekeepers, to beg for mouth-to-mouth, but the mist filled my vision with silver.

  A few frantic heartbeats later, everything went black.

  Chapter 6

  I’m not sure how much time passed, but when I regained my senses, I no longer lay on the hard earth but felt like I was floating on clouds. Clouds encased in silk. Mrs. Yates from the magazine stall owned a handkerchief of that fabric. It had felt like the petals caressing my skin—just like this luxurious, soft surface.

  “She’s awake, sir,” said a male voice.

  My eyes snapped open, and I tried pulling myself upright, but bone-deep fatigue weighted my limbs to the bed. Instead, I twisted my neck and blinked my eyes into focus.

  Two faerie guardsmen clad in pristine, white uniforms peered at me from beyond a set of bars. One of them wore the same kind of tall hat I’d seen on the guards accompanying the princes to Saltbay Port, and the other wore a flat cap.

  I glanced around, taking in the white walls, matching ceiling, and luxury mattress. This was some kind of faerie prison, but why wasn’t I lying on the sawdust floor of the human jailhouse?

  “Bargaining with humans is against the lore, young lady,” said the one with the flat cap.

  I shook my head, trying to dislodge a fog of confusion. “That can’t be right—”

  “Don’t deny it.” He wagged a finger through the bars. “The peacekeepers found you passed out in the middle of a bargaining circle and brought you here.”

  “What on earth…” My brows drew together, and pieces from the night before rearranged themselves in my mind like an incomplete jigsaw puzzle. A horny centaur, gunfire, a dark faerie with serrated teeth… I rubbed my temples, fighting through the fog. What was I missing?

  It hit me like a bolt of lightning to the heart.

  “Sicily!”

  “The Italian island?” the faerie asked.

  “That’s my sister’s name.” I tried pulling myself upright, but now it felt like some force on my back kept me down. “She made a deal with the dark fae, and the peacekeepers interrupted them. Now she’s missing.”

  His face dropped. “What? Which Noble House?”

  “I don’t know.” My throat dried, and I coughed to get out the words. “They were pale with black hair and wore black armor. There were five of them, and one got killed.”

  The guards exchanged concerned frowns, which made my stomach churn with worry for Sicily’s plight. Faeries that powerful had to be notorious, and they probably knew all about the five dark brothers. I tightened my stomach muscles, preparing to hear bad news.

  In the kind of slow voice people reserve for speaking to morons, the guard with the flat cap said, “What is your Noble House, young lady?”

  I shook my head. “I’m Unity Quayle, nobody important.”

  “That’s a human name.” His brows drew together.

  “Yes, I’m human. Can you find my sister? She went to the deal circle in Hope Woods and met some dark faeries. Four of them disappeared with her, and the fifth said he would put me under a curse.”

  “Ah, I see.” He pulled off his cap, revealing a shock of teal hair, and rubbed his chin.

  “What’s that, sir?” asked his companion with the tall hat.

  He nodded in my direction. “She’s a cast-off. Her Lord father probably wiped her memory and placed her in the circle to be found by the peacekeepers.”

  My eyes bulged. Faeries were unreasonable, but they tended not to make up stupid stories. “No, I’m a human from Doolish.”

  Ignoring me, they continued their conversation in low voices. The dense fog in my mind shifted, allowing me to push myself upright and strain to listen. Elijah had once mentioned that some faeries claimed the half-bloods they had with human women, but most cast them away at maturity if they didn’t develop any useful power.

  I paused, waiting for the pain of his dismissal to strike, but nothing happened. How could I fret about my love life when the dark fae had my sister?

  My shoulder blades twitched but seemed to extend beyond my body, and the air at my back shifted. I twisted around. Two huge butterfly wings, in shades of iridescent purple and blue, flapped behind my back. This had to be some kind of joke.

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  The two faeries stopped their conversation and stared at me through the bars.

  My mouth dried. “What’s happening to me?”

  “Everything’s alright,” he said in a voice laden with pity. “We occasionally get children like you wandering the woods with their memories erased. We’ll call someone who can help.”

  I shook my head and told the guards the events of the night before. Their faces froze in sympathetic smiles as I recounted how the dark faerie’s mist had curled around my senses, but they dismissed it as a false memory. Apparently, noble houses who got rid of their half-bloods also wiped all knowledge of their previous existence.

  The guards opened my cell door to allow in a human servant with a trolley laden with china plates covered in silver domes. The rich
aroma of roasted coffee beans filled my nose. It mingled with the scent of pastries baked in spices.

  A lock of golden hair fell into my face, making me shudder. What else had they changed? “Is that for me?”

  “My Lady.” After pushing the trolley to the side of my bed, she bobbed into a curtsey. Uncovering each plate, she said, “Scrambled eggs with smoked salmon, cinnamon whirls, croissants with Belgian chocolate spread, orange juice, and Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee.”

  “My name’s Unity,” I said. “Unity Quayle. I’m a human, like you.”

  Her gaze flickered to the wings flapping behind my back and then back through the bars at the watching guards. “Of course, My Lady.”

  My shoulders sank. Despite the interventions of King Oberon and the UN, generations of fae cruelty had taught us humans to be cautious. Pressing the point would only distress the poor girl, so I thanked her as she scurried out through the door.

  “Stay put.” The guards walked out of sight.

  I should have salivated over the wonderful breakfast, should have sipped the coffee like it was fine wine, but right now, it felt like I’d been sucked dry by the Jack of Smiles.

  Sicily wouldn’t have wished me to become a half-blood. She was more likely to transport me to live with the Lumberjacks of Switzerland. This had to be the work of the dark faerie who had cursed me with his dying breath.

  Forcing down a mouthful of scrambled eggs, I shook my head and sighed. If the bargain was never struck, the dark faeries didn’t have the right to hold Sicily.

  About ten minutes later, a tall faerie with white hair flowing down the front of his royal blue robes like a scarf swept into sight. He stood behind the bars, examining me with soft, mauve eyes.

  I straightened. “Can you help me, I’m a human—”

  “My name is Osamund Gladiolus,” he said in a voice louder than mine. “I’m the admissions officer for the Royal Fae Academy and here to assess your suitability for remedial classes.”

  I dropped my croissant onto its plate. “There’s been a mistake. Last night—”

  He held up his hand, making me clamp my mouth shut. “I’ve spoken at length with the King’s Guard and researched your predicament.”

  “Alright,” I said, trying to keep the shake out of my voice. “Did you find out how to break the curse?”

  He grimaced, as though what he was about to say would be awkward. “They checked the human census, and there’s no entry of a Unity or Sicily Quayle.”

  “That can’t be right—”

  “Kieran Quayle and Kathleen Quayle née Diorval didn’t have children.”

  I frowned. “But—”

  “And the address you gave the guards is occupied by a Mrs. Florence Yates and her two daughters, Cecily and Eunice.”

  I shook my head. “Mrs. Yates never had children.”

  The human girl from before scurried into my cell and placed a pile of clothes on my bed. A glance at the items told me it was the Royal Fae Academy uniform of a white shirt, a wine-and-violet tartan skirt, and a matching tie.

  My heart sank into my stomach, which threatened to throw up its contents. I couldn’t see any way back to my former life. “The dark faerie must have altered reality.”

  “Nonsense,” said Gladiolus. “Any fae powerful enough to perform such heinous acts are locked safely away in a prison within the Otherworld. You are clearly the product of a Fae Lord’s liaison with a human who has been deemed unfit to bear your father’s name.”

  “Then why do I remember my human life?” I blurted. “My sister’s out there—”

  “Enchanted memories, my dear girl. There was no sister and no human existence.” He sighed with a depth of sorrow unusual for a fae. “Unfortunately, the higher the rank, the more complete the casting-out. Be fortunate that your Lord father only altered your memories. Some in your position aren’t permitted to live.”

  “No.” I clapped a hand to my chest.

  Gladiolus waved his fingers, and magic penetrated my skin. It wasn’t the suffocating sensation of the dark fae’s dying curse, but a gentle tingling.

  He stared down at me like he was trying to solve a complicated puzzle. My skin crawled, and I shrank into my tightening stomach. Anyone associated with the Royal Fae Academy had to be powerful, right? Maybe he would see the truth of my existence and point me in the right direction to find Sicily.

  After several moments, he whispered, “Fascinating.”

  “Sir?” My throat flexed.

  “I can’t reach your inner core, which suggests that your power was bound by an individual much stronger than I.”

  “Do you think it’s because I never had any kind of fairy magic?”

  He continued as though I hadn’t spoken. “With a year or two of remedial classes, you should be able to ease out enough power to mate and bear magical children.”

  “But I need to find my sister.”

  “You need to face the truth of your fabricated memories.” He placed his hands on his hips and rocked back and forth on his heels. “Young ladies with the appearance of a royal fae but without an ounce of power cannot secure appropriate mates. At best, you’ll be a Lord’s plaything, and at worst, you could end up working in a brothel.”

  I slid off the bed. Talking to this faerie wasn’t getting me anywhere. If I wanted to find Sicily, I’d have to infiltrate their world. “If I join your academy, can I go inside the Mound?”

  His gaze skimmed my wings. “The remedial class has weekends off when you’ll be free to roam the Mound as you please.”

  “Alright, then.” I clapped my hands together. “Let’s go.”

  There was a mirror underneath the stack of clothes, and I stared into it, gaping at the new me. My mousy hair shone like spun gold, framing crystal-blue eyes set within a heart-shaped face. The dark faerie had even made my lips plump and colored them a rosy pink. Shit, I looked terrific.

  After I changed into my new uniform, Gladiolus led me through a luxurious jailhouse of crystal chandeliers and out into the courtyard. An antique hearse-style carriage painted the same deep purple as my skirt waited on the white tiles along with two black horses with wings like polished jet.

  The morning sun shone down from a cloudless sky, and the distant sound of seagulls drifted across a rosemary-scented breeze. On mornings like these, my sister and I would stroll through the market, bartering DVDs of Survivor, which neither of us particularly liked.

  Gladiolus paused at the door of the carriage, which was gilded with the royal crest. “Can you retract your wings?”

  I twisted around and glowered at the appendages flapping behind my back like I was some kind of overgrown butterfly. “They have a mind of their own.”

  “Once you access your power, you’ll be able to make them disappear.” Gladiolus opened the door and stepped into the carriage’s blue velvet interior.

  My brows furrowed. Elijah’s wings were always on display, but he never demonstrated any magic and never mentioned having taken remedial classes. But then, no royal fae ever had dragonfly wings.

  Once we settled into the plush, velvet seat, the horses broke into a gallop out of the courtyard and down the road. I dug my fingers into the seat cushion, tightening my stomach at the speed. The fastest I’d ever traveled was on the back of a centaur. When they weren’t trying to buck you off, it was the safest possible method of transport.

  The forest blurred through the windows as the carriage picked up speed. Up ahead, the road ended in a cliff. My pulse pounded so loud, it muffled Gladiolus’s murmured question. I wanted to open the door, to leap out to safety, but flying horses pulled carriages through the sky every day, and I was just being stupid.

  Slowing my breath, I waited for the inevitable. The hoofs no longer pounded the cobblestones, and with a mighty lurch, the carriage flew through the air and over the Mound’s lower levels.

  “Do you remember having flown before?” asked Gladiolus.

  Twisting around, I gazed down at the rapidly shrinking la
ndscape of white buildings surrounded by forestland.

  That question could either refer to flying in a carriage or with my wings. Since I’d done neither, I said, “No, sir.”

  From up high, the Mound wasn’t just a huge mountain range that took up most of the island. It was seven concentric circles. Each indicated a different level of the faerie hierarchy.

  At the very bottom was the Charity region, where the more bestial fae dwelled, such as the centaurs and satyrs. They couldn’t wield spells, but they had brute strength and were impervious to magic. My thoughts drifted to Coltrane, who I hoped hadn’t hurt himself too severely on the tree trunk.

  “You’ll get a refresher on flying, of course,” Gladiolus said. “But your muscle memory will speed things along, and you’ll be whizzing through the air in no time.”

  “Right,” I said, playing along.

  Gladiolus continued an extended monologue about what he expected of me at the Royal Fae Academy, but his words didn’t reach my ears. Something about those dark faeries niggled the back of my mind.

  Dark faeries powerful enough to change reality had been imprisoned after King Oberon defeated Queen Maeve. Did that mean they had escaped, or did it mean that they hadn’t been deemed dangerous enough to banish?

  “Sir?” I asked.

  “Yes, child?”

  “Where’s the Dark Fae Prison?”

  He pursed his lips. “Still thinking about those false memories? You need to forget about them and move on.”

  I clenched my teeth. It was easy for him to say when no one had ever wiped him and his only family out of existence. Forcing a smile and trying to sound willing to accept his version of the truth, I murmured, “They were just so detailed.”

  “Josiah Whittaker was in your position a few decades ago.” Gladiolus leaned back in the plush seat, giving me what he probably thought was a kindly smile. “He teaches the remedial class and will guide you through the process of acclimatization.”

  I turned back to the window, stared down into the forests below, and tried not to sigh. It wasn’t like I had any choices. Mrs. Yates now occupied our home, and I doubted anyone else would remember we’d ever existed. Maybe I would learn something useful at the academy to locate Sicily.