The Fairies' Path

by Ava Corrigan

  “Oh, is that why you were weirding out at the Vessel?” Terra asked. She rattled on: “That makes so much more sense, ’cause it’s the easiest assignment we’ll have and—”

  Musa put a hand on her arm.

  “I’m making it worse,” Terra realized out loud.

  Terra always made things worse. The girl was totally socially inept. She should be confined to the greenhouse for her own good.

  Stella took this awkward silence as her cue to stroll up to the table, Sky at her side where he belonged, a map in hand.

  “So we have a plan,” Stella announced. She spread her map out at the end of the table.

  “What is this?” asked Musa, while Terra looked gleeful at the sight of a map.

  “Hey. Stella told me what happened last night. Are you okay?” Sky sat down close to Bloom, almost touching. His voice was gentle.

  That wasn’t part of the plan. Stella appreciated Sky’s soft heart, but she wasn’t loaning it out. She was holding on to it for herself.

  “What do you think?” Bloom asked tiredly.

  Sky looked at Bloom with kind, wise eyes. “I think you’re freaking out, but pretending that you’re not.”

  “That obvious?” Bloom asked.

  “Nah,” Sky said easily. “I’m just really good.”

  Bloom smiled, charmed against her will, her hackles going down.

  “Sky?” Stella said sharply.

  She stared down her nose at the girl from California. Bloom’s hackles went right back up.

  “Where do you think they’re keeping it again?” Stella asked.

  Sky got up from his seat and moved to the map as everyone began to plan how to find the monster Dowling had trapped and reclaim the ring. Finally, people were concentrating on the important things: Stella’s jewelry.

  As he leaned over the map, Stella put her hand on Sky’s back. Scratching gently. Tracing. Marking her territory. Apparently, Bloom talked to her mother every night and got showered in praise and affection, but Stella’s mother had taught Stella more important things. Such as how to stake a royal claim.

  Sky began pointing things out on the map with soldierly precision. He was a knight aiding the princess.

  “There’s only a few buildings outside the Barrier where they could secure a creature like that. And I’m pretty sure I saw Silva heading in from the east this morning, so.” His strong fingers traced the map. “There’s a barn and a mill—”

  “Barn is my bet,” Terra piped up. “My dad fortified the beams to chain a wounded horse when I was little. I still remember sneaking in and—”

  Stella cut her off. Somebody had to stop Terra’s incessant chattering. It was a mercy for Terra, and certainly a mercy for anyone who had to listen to Terra. It was a public service Stella was undertaking for her people. “So we just have to sneak out there to the barn and get my ring.”

  “Strange how casually you’re tossing about the word we,” Aisha remarked.

  Funny how Aisha was so eager to help Bloom and so reluctant to help Stella. She’d chosen her side pretty fast.

  Musa chimed in, “Seems like more of a you kinda deal.”

  Apparently, all the suitemates had.

  “Except I didn’t lose it.” Stella gazed at Bloom significantly.

  Message received. “When do we go?” Bloom asked.

  Everyone exchanged apprehensive looks. Naturally, Aisha the interferer was the one who spoke up to protect her precious roommate.

  “Gonna be blunt here. Sorry. Bloom, you have zero control over your magic. That is if you manage to channel it. Bad idea.”

  “I lost the ring,” Bloom snapped. “I’m gonna get it back. I’m fine.”

  Bloom was talking sense. She knew what was due to Stella. She wasn’t flirting with Sky, Stella had to admit. Maybe the changeling girl wasn’t so bad. It sounded as though she was having problems with her magic, and Stella knew all about handling problems with magic. If Bloom knew her place, they could help each other.

  Stella’s newborn approval of Bloom faded as Sky looked at Bloom like he knew she wasn’t fine. But he didn’t. He didn’t know this new girl at all, and he shouldn’t be so concerned about her feelings.

  Hesitantly, he said: “Maybe we should take a second to—”

  Stella ignored her knight. “Everyone is making this a bigger deal than it needs to be. You said the Burned One is locked up, right?”

  “Oh, and subdued,” contributed Terra. When everyone blinked at her, she explained, “I’m pretty sure my dad has been distilling this oil that calms it down. It’s called Zanbaq.”

  Terra glanced over at the faculty table, where her father the professor was sitting with Ms. Dowling and Specialist Headmaster Silva.

  Terra offered, in a small voice: “I can probably make some more …”

  Terra might actually be rather sweet, if she stopped talking so much, or at least kept saying useful things. Stella showed her royal favor. “Thank you, Terra, for being helpful. And thank you, Bloom, for taking responsibility. And thank you to everyone else for … nothing. I guess thanks for nothing.”

  She eyed Aisha and Musa with royal disfavor. She didn’t care that they all preferred Bloom. Their feelings were of no interest to Stella whatsoever. She was getting what she wanted.

  Hold on to what’s yours, she’d learned as a child. Or you’ll have nothing.

  Bloom climbed to her feet and addressed Stella alone. “Let me know when you want to do it.”

  Fire

  Escaping a Specialist wasn’t so easy. Sky caught me down by the pond, his face earnest and troubled, his hair ruffled in the breeze. He really did look like the perfect knight. But he couldn’t save every damsel he met. He had to pick one.

  “You don’t have to go along with what Stella wants,” he told me as he jogged to my side. “There are other options. Don’t do it just because she has a … strong personality.”

  My voice was flat. “I lost the ring. Helping her get it back is the right thing to do. End of story.”

  Sky conceded, “Two strong personalities. Got it.”

  I looked him dead in the eye. “Clearly, you have a type.”

  There was a pause. I didn’t regret saying it. He’d been flirting a little with me yesterday, and then he’d spent the night with Stella. I hadn’t made things awkward. I’d just pointed out where the awkwardness was.

  After a silence, Sky offered, “So, yesterday … when I was … when we were talking … I hadn’t talked to Stella in months. Yes, we dated last year. But we had kind of a rough breakup, and …”

  And they’d only talked last night? And they’d decided to just be friends?

  “And what?” I asked.

  Miserably, Sky said: “I just don’t want you to think I’m that guy—”

  I cut him off. “Sky. We just met yesterday. I don’t think anything about you.”

  What mattered wasn’t what I thought. What mattered was whether he was being that guy. Or not.

  “Okay. That’s fair,” said Sky.

  I caught his eye. I liked that he seemed to really listen to me. I did feel a spark when our eyes met: a spark of possibility, of potential.

  I chose my words carefully. “Your deal with Stella seems … complicated. And right now, my life could use less complication. Not more.”

  So, that was that. Goodbye, fairy-tale knight. The princess could have him.

  Specialist

  Headmistress Dowling kept good booze in her office. Riven helped himself, lounging in a desk chair as his foxy new acquaintance Beatrix prowled around the books. They bantered while Riven kept an eye on his phone. Dowling took half an hour for lunch. Her assistant Callum got fifteen minutes, so the timing was tight. Riven had posted a lookout, since Callum could get sneaky.

  Riven was sneakier. He’d pulled the hood of his hoodie up, since they were sneaking around. “What are you after, anyway? Test answers?”

  Beatrix made a disdainful face. “Please. The tests they give now might a
s well be written in crayon.”

  She was fun to watch in her little blue tartan dress. Better yet, she was fun to listen to.

  “The history of this place is a lot darker than Dowling and the rest of the faculty want us to know.” Beatrix turned from the carved stone bookcase back to Riven with a predatory glint in her eye. “I want the truth. Don’t you?”

  Riven wanted something, all right. He teased her about being a hot nerd.

  She got closer to him as she purred, “Why? Is that a confusing archetype for you?”

  Things seemed about to get really interesting when Riven’s phone buzzed with a text from Dane, telling him Callum was en route. Baby Specialist Dane was coming in useful. Riven was glad he’d decided to become a mentor.

  Riven and Beatrix left in a hurry. Riven never noticed the electric sparks playing along the surface of the stone bookcase, revealing the outline of a secret door.

  He did notice Beatrix’s self-satisfied smile as they hurried along, but he misinterpreted that. He assumed it was all about him.

  Fire

  The stone circle at sunset was beautiful. The glow of the setting sun gave every stone a halo. It seemed like at any moment in this space, magic might happen.

  But magic wasn’t happening. I kept trying, and failing.

  “I hear you’re broken,” said Princess Stella, strolling into the circle.

  And now Stella had come to be tactful to me. Great.

  I tried to ignore her taunting and insisted: “I’m still gonna help you.”

  “And I’m thrilled,” Stella drawled, “but I’d prefer we wait until you aren’t completely useless. What’s the damage?”

  I wasn’t sure Stella was the best person to let in, but she was the one who was here.

  “I … don’t know,” I admitted. “And the more I try to figure it all out, the harder it gets.”

  I made a frustrated gesture to my notebook. Stella eyed the book with even more disdain than she usually exhibited.

  “That thing is your problem. You can’t think your way into magic.”

  I sighed. “I know. It’s all about clear and positive emotions. There’s a page dedicated to them.”

  “Wait. You made a list?”

  Embarrassed, I started to put my notebook away.

  “What’s on it? Your favorite ice-cream flavors? Otters holding hands?”

  Look, otters holding hands were very cute! The princess shouldn’t judge. I stuffed my belongings into my bag while Stella listed ideas she found hilarious, including the notion of my mom being proud of me.

  “Wait,” said Stella. “Probably not that last one anymore, right? Considering she’s not your actual mom.”

  I stopped putting my things away. I turned to Stella. She’d better not push it.

  Stella pushed it. “Am I wrong? Do you still care what your not-mom says? Even though you’re a changeling? Who tried to kill her?”

  My fist clenched.

  I spoke through my teeth. “If you say one more thing—”

  Stella’s voice cut across mine, authoritative in a way perhaps only a future ruler could be. “Put your hands on the Vessel.”

  “What?”

  Stella’s eyes were gleaming in the sunset. Her voice in my ear was almost sinister, almost intimate. “The strongest magic comes from the worst emotions: anger and rage. So put your worthless changeling hands on that bowl and feel it.”

  Uneasily, I looked up at Stella. Her expression was strained with rage, and I saw something there I recognized. I felt something inside me shift, as though I was moving to lower but safer ground.

  I put my hands on the Vessel, and flame erupted from the bowl. A hungry leap of a flame, rising to consume something—or someone. Quickly, I pulled my hands off. The fire extinguished.

  “What? You think you’re done?” Stella demanded.

  Her face was painted by the dying sun, alight with fierce triumph. I recognized that feeling, too. I wanted more of it.

  I heard a roar like fire in my ears. I realized I was just getting started.

  Mind

  “I don’t like what Stella is teaching her,” said Aisha.

  Musa was barely listening. Aisha fretting about Bloom was becoming a regular thing, like Aisha’s constant swimming. Musa was busy looking around for the guy in the green jacket, the one who exuded peace. Like a white noise machine of a person.

  She kept catching snatches of that peace, but whenever she whipped around, she saw nobody there. She was starting to fear the boy could turn himself invisible and she would never find him.

  Even though she wasn’t listening, Musa could pick up the emotion Aisha was broadcasting, loud and clear.

  “Jealous much? Why’s a friendship with Bloom so important to you?”

  “Aren’t roommates supposed to be friends?”

  Oh, sweet Aisha. Musa thought of Terra the Terror, and sighed. “I am not the right person to comment on that.”

  Aisha wasn’t just concerned about Bloom. She regarded Musa sympathetically, and asked about the hunt for Mr. Green Jacket.

  Musa poured out her frustration. “I’ll feel him around a corner, but whenever I try and track him down? He’s never there.”

  Musa felt another ripple of that sweet, tantalizing peace. At this point, she felt too tired even to whip around and be disappointed once more.

  “There he is again. Behind me.”

  As expected, Aisha said: “There’s no one behind—”

  Then Aisha’s big brown eyes widened. Musa realized that Aisha’s gaze was tracking someone, over Musa’s shoulder. Mr. Green Jacket might finally be located.

  “Mystery solved. He’s been walking through walls. An Earth Fairy!”

  That was why he’d seemed to keep disappearing. But he hadn’t vanished now. Aisha was actually seeing him. Musa didn’t dare turn around, but she did have a question.

  Musa spoke in a low voice. “I’m not superficial, but … is he cute?”

  Then Aisha, a lady who was wildly out of control, called out: “Hey. What’s your name?”

  No. No!

  “What are you doing?” Musa asked in an agonized whisper. “Aisha, do not!”

  Musa wasn’t good at that thing where people interacted and spoke to each other. She needed time to plan her strategy, and hide her headphones, not be weird. She couldn’t do this now.

  Only it was too late. A boy’s voice, pleasant, relaxed, and slightly puzzled, said: “Um … I’m Sam. What’s up?”

  “I’m Aisha,” announced Aisha, that vile traitor. “And this is Musa.”

  Aisha turned to Musa, in a we’re-all-friends-here gesture. Funny, because Musa was going to hate her forever.

  Sam of the Green Jacket was extremely cute, with soft brown hair and clear white skin and a jawline it would be a pleasure to run her fingers along. It was a shame that Musa was going to have to crawl under her bed, live there, and never see him again.

  Musa spoke quietly to Aisha: “I hate you. I will always hate you. I will hate your children and your children’s children and—”

  Aisha, apparently rendered deaf, told Sam: “Musa has been stalking you.”

  Musa could barely get out a threat, only a one-word promise of what she would do to Aisha. “Dead …”

  Then all words died in Musa’s throat as she met Sam’s eyes. What must he think of her? Some freak, clutching her headphones, following him around desperate for a chance at quiet in the chaos.

  The last rays of sunshine in the courtyard caught the light in Sam’s brown hair. He had smile crinkles around his eyes and his mouth. And Aisha had just said Musa was stalking him—

  Beautiful, peaceful Sam looked at Musa, and murmured, “Lucky me.”

  Earth

  The setting sun shone through the opaque panes of glass in the greenhouse, onto winding vines and vivid flowers. Some were classified as magical. Some were not. It didn’t matter. Every flower was magic to Terra.

  Set at intervals amid the greenery were
black lab tables, where they could perform the wonders of science amid the beauty of nature.

  Terra was always happy here, and she’d never been happier than she was at this moment. In her special place. With Dane, who was taking an interest in her chemistry equipment and pretending he didn’t know what a pipette was. He got her to say the word five times.

  She tossed a dead leaf at him. “Do it again and this whole flowerpot’s coming at ya.”

  Dane grinned. He was so, so cute, Terra thought. This was just like last year, being happy in the greenhouse, having someone to hang out with.

  Except this was way better than last year, because Dane was a wonderful, adorable person. And Terra was almost sure Dane liked her back.

  She touched a plant, and made it bloom into a sunset-orange flower. Just for him.

  Dane smiled, teeth white and bright, looking truly impressed.

  Then his phone buzzed. Dane texted back, then returned his attention to Terra and asked what they were making.

  Terra replied eagerly, “It’s an oil. Well, technically an unguent. But thin for an unguent.”

  She and her suitemates were on a secret mission, to save Stella’s royal ring from the Burned One. Stella had thanked Terra personally for helping.

  “Ah,” said Dane. “An un … guent.”

  Maybe Dane didn’t understand what a cool thing they were doing.

  “It’s protection. From the Burned One—in case you didn’t hear.”

  “I did,” Dane replied. “Mental that they’re back.”

  Dane’s phone buzzed again. Dane took it out again, then put it away, but soon after he mumbled that he had to run and hurried off. Maybe a friend of his was in trouble? Maybe he needed to go train.

  Before his phone started buzzing, Dane really had seemed to be enjoying spending time with her.

  Whoever was texting Dane, Terra thought, they were super annoying.

  Specialist

  Riven stopped texting Dane and smirked to himself.

  Beatrix was sitting on his bedroom floor, going over a textbook with a highlighter. Smart was sexy.