by Sofia Daniel
Below us, a little waterfall tumbled out from a gap in the woods into a stream that shimmered in the morning sun like freshly polished turquoise. Strangely, the sight of such beauty gave me a bit of hope. If I existed with my memories intact, there was a chance that she was also out there, pining for her old life.
After what felt like an hour of riding in the back of the velvet carriage, the winged horses descended and landed with a soft bounce. Gladiolus clapped his hands together. “The roads on the four highest rungs of the Mound are magically cushioned, so you’ll always have a soft landing.”
“Uh-huh?” I could barely take in his words because of the view.
A floating bridge stretching several hundred feet led to a huge, white gatehouse wider than Doolish town square with towers at each side that stretched eight stories tall. It reminded me of a grander, more sparkly version of the Tower of London.
The horses pulled the carriage through a twenty-foot-tall, stone archway, bringing with it a sensation like invisible needles piercing my skin.
I flinched. “What’s that?”
“Just the gatehouse wards.” Gladiolus smoothed down the front of his silk robes. “They’re assessing your worth. None but those aligned with the royal and noble houses may enter through these gates.”
My stomach clenched. What if the wards worked out I was an unworthy human? “But I’m not a—”
“Enough,” he said, impatience sharpening his voice. “The sooner you accept your status, the sooner you can start your new, independent life.”
The carriage stopped in the middle of the archway, and the wards continued to attack. Now, instead of pin-pricks, it felt like I’d fallen into a cloud of giant hornets with stingers the size of a man’s fingers.
Pain lanced through to my muscles, my bones, my very organs, not stopping, never giving me pause, not even when a scream tore from my throat, and I fell off the seat onto my hands and knees.
“Stop,” I cried out, but the wards redoubled their attack. Now it felt like being impaled by sharp knives.
Sweat poured down my brow. My insides shook with a mix of desperation, nausea and terror. Maybe this was what the dark faerie meant when he cursed me with his dying breath. The wretched monster had wanted me to suffer the way he had during his last moments.
“Unity!” Gladiolus shook my forearm. “Please be seated.”
The relentless stabbing continued. The contents of my stomach hurled onto the carriage floor, only to sink into the velvet, leaving it once again pristine.
I wanted to die, to put an end to this suffering. Right now, if someone offered me the chance to serve as a slave in the mount for ninety-nine years just to end this torment, I would accept. Nothing could be worse than the feeling of being kept alive while the wards ripped me apart.
Tears streamed from my eyes, snot streamed from my nose. I continued sobbing as the magic dragged me to the depths of agony.
Gladiolus placed a hand in the space between my wings, and the attack stopped. His cool magic soothed my overworked nerves like a balm.
“Wonderful,” he said in the kind of voice people reserved for appreciating a fine brew of Earl Grey tea. “It is just as I hoped.”
Despite the relief of no longer being in pain, exhaustion weighed down my limbs. I slumped onto my side, resting my head on the carriage floor. “What do you mean?”
“Not only did you pass the entrance exam, but your fated mate is nigh.”
The pounding in my skull was so loud, I must have misheard him. “Huh?”
“The tips of your wings are glowing.” Gladiolus clapped his hands together. “Someone at the academy is fated to become your mate.”
Chapter 7
The soft tread of the velvet carpet caressed my face, but it did nothing to soothe the memory of the ward’s brutality. Neither did the knowledge that a mate was waiting for me at the Royal Fae Academy. I squeezed my eyes shut, letting Gladiolus’ words wash over me. Who cared about mates when the wards of the academy wanted me dead?
The carriage continued down the floating bridge, and my thoughts drifted to Sicily. I hoped the four dark faeries didn’t blame her for their brothers’ death, and I sent a silent prayer to whoever was listening that she wasn’t suffering the same plight as me.
Gladiolus clucked his tongue. “Your first glimpse of the Royal Fae Academy should be from a seat, not from the floor. Never forget that regardless of your human parentage, you are of noble, fae blood.”
Still breathing hard, I raised my head. A pristine, white castle loomed in the distance, its tall windows glinting in the morning sun. The building consisted of more turrets and towers than I could count, some topped by cone-shaped roofs that glinted like polished jet. Beyond the castle lay a series of mountains that stretched out into the horizon.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Gladiolus exclaimed.
“Yeah.”
Under normal circumstances, I would have gasped, exclaimed something embarrassing, and said that the castle was like nothing I had seen on my precious DVDs, but after being tortured by the castle’s wards, I really didn’t give a shit.
I slowed my breathing, trying to get my pulse under control. Although the wards had accepted me and Gladiolus had taken away the pain, I still wanted back my old life.
Each step closer to the Royal Fae Academy brought me further from Sicily. My chest tightened, and tears filled my eyes. If my sister was here, she would snark about how the faeries lived in such opulence, while we humans survived on United Nations handouts.
“Up you get.” With the strength of a centaur, Gladiolus yanked me up by the arm and plopped me onto the soft, velvet seat. “If you are to study among the fae elite, it’s important to make the right impression.”
I turned my gaze to the older faerie and met his disapproving, mauve eyes. “Won’t I be in remedial classes with all the half-bloods?”
“Half-bloods study and house in a building by the stables, but you will dine with the entire student body.”
I gave him an absent nod. Hopefully, he was telling the truth about us having weekends free, and the wards would let me out to search the Mound’s interior for Sicily.
The horses took another leap through the air and landed in a courtyard lined with iridescent, white stone. It was about the size of Doolish Town square, except where ours was bordered with one-story buildings, the structures around this courtyard stood at least six stories high.
Gladiolus swept his gaze down my uniform, as though checking it for wrinkles. “It’s lunchtime now, and most students will be in the dining hall. Your first task is to identify your mate, who will guide you through the orientation process.”
I bit down on my bottom lip, picturing a room full of spoiled faeries wanting me to apologize for existing. “Can’t I wait for him in the remedial class?”
The carriage door opened, letting in a fragrant mix of honeysuckle, gardenia, and sweet pea scents.
“Whatever for?” Gladiolus stepped out into the courtyard and offered me his hand. “You’ll never meet your mate if you hide in the remedial building. What if he’s a full-blooded faerie?”
I followed him through the courtyard into the academy’s main entrance, which consisted of another stone archway filled with dark wood polished to such a shine, it was nearly indistinguishable from the metal door knocker. As we approached, the metal swirled and morphed into the bust of a female faerie whose earlobes stretched down to her jawline. She stared down at us and blinked.
Gladiolus bowed, and I bobbed into a curtsey, just in case it was required. I’d heard of door guardians, and it wouldn’t surprise me if this was the being responsible for the ward attack.
The door swung open, and I scurried after Gladiolus into an entrance hall consisting of white marble. As soon as it closed again, I turned to the older faerie. “Who was that?”
“Our goddess, Danu. She—”
“Oh,” an arrogant, female voice tinkled with laughter. “Mating call!”
My g
aze snapped from Gladiolus, across the vast entrance hall, stood a huge, spiral staircase that split into two branches at the top. Three girls descended in formation. The first to descend was a mahogany-skinned girl with flame-colored hair that curled down her shoulders, next was a pale, willowy girl whose figure reminded me of a sapling. She wore her forest-green hair in a high ponytail.
“Good morning, My Ladies,” said Gladiolus.
I swallowed hard. Would I have to defer to the girls, too? Even though I had wings, I was still considered just a half-blood.
“Who’s this?” asked the third girl, a curvaceous crimson-haired girl with amber eyes.
Gladiolus placed a hand on the small of my back. “Allow me to present Unity Quayle, who has come to join the remedial class.”
The first girl stepped forward, her gaze sweeping down my form. “Whose human bastard are you?”
I wanted to tell her I was a hundred-percent human, thank you very much, but common sense and the fear of the academy’s wards held my tongue. Clenching my teeth, I turned to Gladiolus.
“Her Lord father has decided to allow Unity to make her own way in the world, unencumbered by her past,” said the older faerie.
My gaze darted from the trio’s knowing smirks to the girl descending noisily down the stairs. She held a handkerchief to her nose, but I would recognize that platinum hair anywhere. It belonged to the Duke of Nevermore’s cruel and arrogant daughter, Lady Gala.
If I were a cat, I would dig my claws into the marble and hiss, the hairs on my arched back standing on end. If I had the appearance of a human, I would smooth out my features and grit my teeth. But neither applied here, as my stupid, glowing faerie wings wouldn’t stop fluttering.
“Oh, look,” said Lady Gala, “The halfling is trying to fly.”
My breathing quickened. What if she recognized me from the drake incident and tried to make me grovel again?
“Careful.” The crimson-haired faerie placed an elegant hand on Lady Gala’s arm. “You’re scaring her.”
“How very considerate, Lady Westerling.” Gladiolus gave her an approving smile.
My nostrils flared. Wasn’t that the name of the other faerie Elijah had said wanted to fly down to Doolish and bury me in molten shit?
Lady Gala looped her arm through mine. “I’m Gala Nevermore, the fated mate of Prince Rory.” She gestured at the other girls, who preened. “We four are fated to the princes, and we’d be delighted to help you find your mate.”
Gladiolus stepped back and beamed. “You’re making friends already!”
I twisted around and sent him my fiercest glower. Maybe DVDs hadn’t reached the upper echelons of the Prudence district, but I’d seen enough episodes of Gossip Girl to know these wenches were making fun of me.
The older faerie spun on his heel and hurried down the hallway, presumably to grab a cup of coffee or whatever these high faeries liked to drink.
“Come along, Aster,” said Lady Gala. “Let’s find this halfling her mate.”
The crimson-haired faerie grabbed onto my left arm and marched me in the opposite direction. “You’re going to love him,” she said with a giggle. “He’s another halfling like you and as strong as a satyr!”
My brows drew together. “How do you—”
“Don’t listen to her,” said Lady Gala. “We’ll walk you into the dining hall. Whoever is fated to become your mate will feel an irresistible pull toward you. His wings will sprout from his back and glow in unison with yours.”
“It’s so romantic,” drawled the flame-haired faerie with the dark skin. “At the sight of me, Prince Bradwell’s wings glowed like fire.”
Lady Gala gave her an acknowledging nod. “That’s Gazania of Southane, fated to rule the Spring court.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I said.
The green-haired faerie next to her smirked. “I’m Salix of Easterly, fated to rule the Winter Court with Prince Caulden.”
“Hello.” I hoped these rulerships would take place in a century or so after the girls had matured a bit. If they were pals with Lady Gala, I wasn’t hopeful of their willingness to be fair to their people.
We continued down the hallway, past a massive portrait of the royal family. King Oberon and Queen Titania sat on golden thrones, surrounded by their four, handsome sons. My gaze flicked to the girls, who let out collective sighs.
I stared straight ahead. Strangely, the sight of them being so pleased with having scored such powerful mates made me wonder what kind of faerie the fates had chosen for me. I hoped he would be powerful, kind, and willing to help me find Sicily.
White double doors stood at the end of the hallway, each with brass knockers shaped like the creepy woman at the door.
“Who is that?” I pointed at the door knocker.
Lady Gazania frowned. “Danu is our living goddess. Do you not know the legend?”
“Despite appearances, this is a halfling,” snapped Lady Gala. “Her father was so disgusted with her lack of magical development that he took her memories and left her out to die.”
My mouth opened to blurt out a denial, but I clamped it shut. What was the point of telling the truth and exposing myself to even more ridicule? I wasn’t here to impress anyone, least of all the pettiest being in the Isle of Fae.
“Anyway,” the flame-haired faerie said as though she hadn’t heard Lady Gala’s rebuke. “Danu is the mother goddess of both the humans and faeries on this island.”
I frowned. That implied that we were different from the humans in the outside world. Was this what the faeries told the United Nations to stop them from letting us leave? Without humans, there would be no cheap labor on the Isle of Fae and no one for the lesser fae such as Jacks of Smiles, satyrs, and centaurs to use for food, entertainment, or reproduction.
The doors swung open into a vast restaurant-like space that seated about three-hundred. Young faeries in their purple uniforms sat at tables arranged in a circle around a turquoise pool. Three-foot-tall pixies flew around on bumblebee wings holding silver platters laden with honey cakes, and half-bloods with dragonfly wings served drinks from crystal jugs.
My heart pumped excitement through my veins, and I glanced from left to right, marveling at the climbing plants that covered three of the walls, each sporting blossoms of white and pink and yellow. In place of a fourth wall was a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the mountain tops and the Snaefell Palace, which loomed in the distance like a beacon of privilege.
I exhaled a long, shaky breath. Not even the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills dined in such splendid surroundings.
“At night, the pool turns into a fire pit.” Lady Gazania flipped her flame-colored tresses over her shoulder. “Being here with my fated mate is so romantic.”
Lady Aster of Westerling giggled. “There’s your mate, approaching from the other side of the room. Look, his wings are glowing.”
For reasons I couldn’t fathom, my heart skipped a beat. Perhaps it was the reminder that Elijah worked at the academy as a supervisor, and the magic of fate would compel him to become my mate. I shook off those thoughts, my gaze skimming the tables of beautiful faeries to see who the fates had chosen for me.
Releasing her grip on my bicep, Lady Gala stepped to one side. She swept her arm into an arc, sending a swirl of tiny snowflakes over all the tables.
Everybody stopped talking and turned to the entrance.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen of the Royal Fae Academy,” she said in a loud, clear voice accustomed to public speaking. “We have a new student whose wings are glowing. Which one of you fine gentlemen will answer her mating call?”
Heat burned my cheeks. She made me sound like a cat in heat, howling to mate.
Lady Aster flicked her wrist, sending out a gust of wind that knocked a few of the pixies aside. At the end of the dining room, a door opened, revealing a group of dragonfly-winged half-bloods standing around the table, arranging food.
My brows drew together. Could one of t
hese kitchen staff be my fated mate?
“Hey,” said a copper-haired girl from one of the tables. “You don’t have to—”
“Be quiet,” Lady Gala snapped. “Just because you’re not fated to marry anyone, it doesn’t mean you have to ruin things for the halfling.”
Halfling. I tried not to roll my eyes. The sooner I met this mate, the sooner he could direct me to a library or better still, the nearest entrance to the Mound.
A large faerie stepped out from the kitchen area. He wore white overalls with the muscular build of a farmworker, but that was the only thing pleasant about his appearance.
Brown fuzz with occasional flecks of orange covered his entire face, giving him the appearance of an overgrown moth. I swallowed hard. With the butterfly shape of his wings, he was clearly a high faerie, but the rest of him indicated that he was also something else.
“Come here, Puke.” Lady Gala placed her hands on her hips. “Meet Unity, your fated mate.”
He walked behind the tables toward us, the orange flecks on his wings glowing brighter with each step. A cold chill snaked down my back, making me shudder so hard, my teeth chattered.
Pain flashed through his eyes, and my insides shriveled with shame. Judging him by his looks made me no better than Lady Gala, who bullied others because they were human. Still, the chill continued to permeate my bones, making me wrap an arm around my middle.
Forcing my features into a smile, I held out my hand, “My name is Unity Quayle, and I’m honored to be your mate.”
The Fated burst into peals of laughter, then the rest of the students joined in, filling the dining hall with the sounds of mockery. Some of the younger students stamped their feet and broke into a round of applause.
Lady Gala shook her head and strolled past the crestfallen faerie to a white table with silver seats. The other Fated followed after her.
