A Curse of Flames (Fae Academy Book 2)

by Sophia Shade

  At the same time, the knowledge of where without knowing what to do next isn’t much better, if any at all.

  I’m about to leave when Headmistress Shadowburn comes down the hall to meet them.

  “I trust your visit is going well,” she says, spreading her arms as if to convey welcoming.

  “As well as can be expected under such circumstances,” one minister replies.

  “Well, I hope you have a restful evening,” the headmistress says. “We have some drinks and entertainment prepared for you at my home.”

  “That is very kind of you, Lady Shadowburn,” another minister replies.

  As they head down the hallway with Headmistress Shadowburn, I notice none of them have their notebooks. They probably aren’t going to be interviewing anyone this late in the evening, so I decide to do something stupid.

  In truth, it’s more like I’m accepting what part of me always knew I was going to do. Why else would I have cared where they were staying?

  Making my way down the hall toward their room, I slip out the paperclip the brownies had given me as a prize at last year’s Faèdahunt. The paperclip had served me well as a lock pick before. For some reason, I’d held onto it as a good-luck charm.

  Although, things didn’t turn out so great last time.

  Let’s hope I have better luck.

  I move the paperclip around in the lock, catching the pins. One, two, three…

  Click.

  Yes! I’m in. Maybe I should invest in an actual lock-picking kit when I go back to the human realm. It seems like something that would come in handy.

  I slip into the room. It’s getting a little dark now, so it is kind of hard to see. I call up a small amount of my fire, just enough to help my fingers glow and give me light to see.

  As I suspected, there are three rooms here and two bathrooms connected by a long hall. Each room has two beds, two desks, two trunks, and a long closet along one wall.

  I get to work looking for the notebooks. Unsurprisingly, they are in the top drawers of the desks. I have no idea whose notebook is whose, so I just work my way around.

  The notes are laid out very orderly, with the name and a hand-drawn portrait of each person they’ve investigated on one page and the information they learned on the other. Each minister must have drawn the images themselves because they are all different, and some have absolutely no artistic skills. One minister’s image of poor Professor Draconis looks more like Snoopy than an elegant Fae man. The notes from person to person are similar, though. Professor Draconis is married. He has three legitimate children and fifteen half-Fae children living in both Fae and the human world.

  Fifteen! What? Did I read that right? How ridiculous is that?

  What if…what if he was my father? He is a fire Fae. Nah, I don’t look anything like him. But still, my father could be anyone. It’s obvious Fae are jerks who love leaving children behind with human mates, but I thought it was maybe one or two. Almost like a rite of passage for a young Fae to have a human dalliance that resulted in a child. But fifteen! That’s not a dalliance—that’s an addiction.

  It certainly puts the professor in a new light.

  I’m not sure there’s anything here that could help me—or the ministers for that matter—learn anything of importance. The facts about the other professors are also interesting, but not particularly useful.

  Headmistress Shadowburn has a human wife—which I knew—who lives with her in the human realm in the summers.

  Coach Thorne is much younger than I expected—less than three hundred—and is an avid gardener.

  Ugh. This is all so mundane. I need to parse through this, possibly with the help of someone else. Copies of all these notes would come in handy. I reach in my pocket, but realize I don’t have my cell phone. It’s in my room, dead. I’ll have to find another way.

  In Base Alchemy last year, one of the simple spells we were taught was how to copy notes. It was mainly to be used to help each other study, but there’s no reason I couldn’t use it here to copy these.

  I get my notebook out of my bag. Laying it next to the minister’s notebook I have open, I wave my hands over both and say an incantation. It must be wrong because the words flicker onto the black page but then disappear. I try again, but the same thing happens. Breathing in a calming breath, I focus my energy. This time, the words stick to the page.

  On the next page, I transfer the notes from the minister’s book to mine again, it works. Every page in the notebook is completed, and then I move on to the next. It is a tedious process, but I slowly make my way through them.

  I am on my last when I hear voices in the hallway. I freeze, having no idea how long I’ve been here—hours, perhaps?—but it doesn’t really matter if it was minutes or days. The point is they’re on their way back. The conversation is growing louder, and one is definitely Headmistress Shadowburn.

  “I hope you enjoyed a bit of relaxation tonight,” she says, and the minister replies something inaudible.

  Crap! If they catch me here, I’ll be bound and banned for sure.

  I rush to the window and wiggle it open. The last time I almost got caught breaking and entering, I was on the third floor, so jumping was not an option. This time, I am safely on the first floor, but the weather is nice and there are many people passing by.

  There’s a row of hedges along the window, so if I can just slip out, I can slither away so people don’t realize where I came from. It won’t be elegant, but it just might work.

  When I think no one outside is paying attention, I drop my bag out the window into the hedge. No one seems to have seen me.

  The door creaks open.

  “Have a good evening, Headmistress,” one of the ministers says.

  They all begin to pile into the suite.

  It’s now or never…

  I don’t even have time to make sure the coast is clear, just toss myself unceremoniously out the window and into the hedge. Reaching back up, I grab the pane, forcing the window down. It clicks into place just as the light to the room switches on.

  I hunker down in the hedge and wait for it to go off.

  The window above me opens.

  “Are you sure that’s a wise idea, Theodosia?” Minister Tempest’s voice carries.

  “It is a lovely night, and I could use some fresh air,” Theodosia replies.

  I hold my breath, terrified they will hear me. Clutching my bag close to my chest, I clasp it to me as if my life depended on it.

  The sound of someone pulling out the chair to the desk nearest the window is loud. She gets out her notebook, the rustling of pages turning and the scratching of a pen easy to make out. Oh my God. How late is she going to stay up working?

  I move my leg to see if it would be possible for me to creep through the hedge like I planned without making too much noise. One of the branches shakes. Pulling my legs to my chest, I wait.

  I’m trapped.

  Chapter 6

  I must have fallen asleep at some point—damn circadian rhythms!—because when I open my eyes, it’s daylight. The bushes to rustle when I quickly sit up. I freeze, but thankfully nothing else moves. When I peek through the leaves, there are a few people walking around, but not many, and none are looking my way. Glancing up, I see the window to the room I escaped from is closed. A sigh of relief blows my lips out. So I wasn’t caught, and they must not suspect anything since they didn’t search for me.

  Following through with my plan, I inch my way toward the end of the hedge. At first, I move slowly, trying to rustle as few branches as possible. But after I realize it’s impossible—and because I’m filthy, I ache from head to toe from sleeping weird, and my knees are getting scratched on the rocks in the dirt—I give up and just get out of there as quickly as possible.

  When I finally emerge from the end, I stand for the first time in hours and take a deep breath.

  “What are you doing?”

  My gaze turns toward the familiar female voice, confirming
my fear—it’s Ferria. My mortal enemy.

  Okay, not my enemy, just someone I don’t get along with and have no desire to make things worse with.

  Ferria and her friends glare, their gazes tracking from my tangled hair down to my muddy hands, knees, and shoes.

  “I…uh…I was just…” In a stroke of inspiration, I pull my brownie paperclip out of my pocket and hold it up. “Just looking for my lucky paperclip. Found it!”

  Ferria rolls her eyes and saunters away with the other girls.

  “She is so weird,” one mumbles.

  Sighing, I make a beeline back to my room, thankfully without running into anyone else.

  Until I open the door.

  “Oh my God!” Dannika says when I step in. “What happened to you?”

  “I really don’t want to talk about it,” I say. I try smoothing my hair, but it’s no use. “I just need a shower.”

  She rushes over, concern lines marring her usually smooth face. “But are you okay?” she asks. “You look like you’ve been in a fight.”

  “I was,” I say. Trying to smile, I pick a few leaves out of my hair. “With a rose bush.”

  “Are you sure?” she asks. “I mean…really? You’ve been acting so strange lately, and now this. Do you need to tell me something?”

  Everything, I think, but I shake my head. “I’m just having more trouble adjusting this year.” My shoulders lift in half-hearted shrug. “Which is weird since I’ve done it all before, right?”

  “Well, you have been through a lot.” She rubs my arm. “Your entire world changed, and then you had to go back to the human realm and just pretend everything was normal. Not to mention what happened with Myra, and now the Ministry officials are here. Everything is crazy. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

  A long sigh escapes, and I try not to cry, but it’s such a relief to have a friend who is so compassionate. I’m barely holding it together. At least around her, I can let it be known that things aren’t okay, even if I can’t say exactly what’s wrong.

  I toss my bag on the floor. “So…about that hot shower and change of clothes…”

  “Right.” She steps back, but she’s still eying me with an expression of concern. “Of course. I’ll let you get to it. I need to get to class, but I can stay if you need me to.”

  “No, you go ahead.”

  “You sure?” she asks. “Because it’s no big deal if you need me to wait.”

  “Really, I’m fine.” I open the door to the bathroom, hoping it will show I’m ready for some privacy. “You go ahead. I’ll see you in our next class, okay?”

  She pauses, and it’s clear she’s unsure if leaving me is a good idea. I do my best to give her a reassuring smile.

  “If you’re sure,” she says. “But if you are late for Glimmer Casting, I’ll be back to check on you.”

  “I’ll be there,” I say. “I promise.”

  She nods and finally leaves.

  After closing myself in the bathroom, I undress and hop into the shower, where I stay for a long time, letting the hot water wash over me and soak down to my bones.

  What do I do now? I’m in way over my head, but I can’t ask anyone for help. And I can’t stop looking for answers. Continuing is my only option, but I need to keep my emotions in check and think my actions through. I can’t spend another night in the bushes.

  When I get out of the shower, it’s late. I’m in such a rush not to be late for class I don’t dry my hair or even brush it all the way—I only pull the bristles through enough to get my hair in a ponytail, cursing under my breath about the knots I’ll have to contend with later. But the last thing I need is for Dannika to come back for me. Making my friends concerned is not the best way to continue my investigation unnoticed.

  Just as I’m about to head out the door, I remember the professor interviews I copied into my notebook in my bag. Leaving it behind is probably a horrible idea. What if someone comes snooping, or Dannika finds it by accident? Then again, if I keep it on me and get caught? I’ll get expelled for sure.

  I need to hide them. But where?

  In the desk drawers isn’t secure. Under the mattress is too obvious. So is in my trunk. I suppose I could slip it under my trunk. In all my snooping, I had never thought to look under trunks before.

  The trunk is made of solid wood and extremely heavy, and it takes all my strength to lift it, but I manage to raise one side high enough to slip the notebook underneath. When I put the trunk back down, it appears totally normal. No one would ever know there was something under it.

  Satisfied with my subterfuge, I run to class.

  Dannika and Ella are waiting for me outside the classroom. Dannika is pacing as I rush toward them. Glimmer Casting is the only class I have with Ella aside from Fae History, since those are the only ones that everyone takes not dependent on our elements. The school uses it as an opportunity to get us to work together with other Fae halls.

  “Sorry,” I say, nearly out of breath. “The shower just felt so good I lost track of time.”

  “That’s okay,” Ella says. “Are you feeling better?”

  “Much,” I say with a smile, and I mean it. “Let’s get in there.”

  We take our seats and wait for class to start. Surprisingly, our teacher Professor Lilijana Evanthia—try saying that three times fast—is late. But just as we start discussing sending someone to look for her, she rushes into the room, seeming just as harried as I did this morning, only not as dirty.

  “Class,” she says, “I have an unfortunate announcement to make. There was a severe security breech last night.”

  My heart turns to ice in my chest. I’d been caught. They knew it had been me in the investigators’ rooms. I’m going to be bound and banned.

  She places her briefcase on her desk with enough oomph to make me jump in my seat.

  “Professor Frieda Crowsfly is dead.”

  Everyone in the room gasps, even me—but this time for a different reason. I’d have rather been caught than someone end up dead. Now I feel bad for my selfish thinking.

  I only vaguely remember Professor Crowsfly and take a moment to reflect on her. She was an Unseelie court member with jet-black hair to her waist. She had a dramatic bearing that anyone would notice. In fact, it’s the only reason I noticed her last year at one of the events, though now I can’t even recall which.

  “Right now, we don’t have all the details,” Professor Evanthia says, clasping her hands in front of her. “But we do suspect it was some sort of foul play. For now, just to be safe, we are instituting a few rules.” She walks around her desk and perches on the edge, her gaze connecting with each student, one after the next. “No one is to go anywhere alone,” she says finally. “And there is a curfew. No students may leave campus after dark.”

  Everyone nods and is quietly somber. I didn’t know Professor Crowsfly personally—I’d never been in any of her classes, since she was an air Fae—but the death of anyone at Callador is a big deal, and certainly frightening.

  The Fae are immortal, but not invincible. They don’t die of illness or old age or any other natural causes. But they can be killed. As such, the Fae don’t deal with death very well. It’s something they try to avoid at all costs, even in conversation. Several of the students are visibly upset, shaking and crying, and even Professor Evanthia seems to be having a tough time holding it together.

  “Please turn to page twenty-seven in your books, class,” she says, going back around to the other side of her desk.

  This time, she sits in her chair and starts writing something on a piece of paper.

  “Read the chapter silently,” she says, her voice cracking, “and then we will discuss it.” She doesn’t even raise her head as she says this, and a tear falls onto the page at her desk.

  We never do discuss the chapter. Everyone just stares down at their books, their eyes unmoving and clearly not scanning the pages. After a few minutes, the class stops pretending to read and starts talking with each
other about the death.

  No one can remember the last time a professor at Callador died.

  “The only one in history I can even name is Zaphire Grenwald,” Dannika says.

  I close my book, regarding her. “Who was that?”

  “Have you seen the quartz crystal statue on the east lawn?” she asks.

  “Yeah, I think so. But I’ve never stopped to read the plaque.”

  Ella taps her pencil against the desk, distressed. “The statue is her,” she says. “She was in a battle with an evil wizard and was cursed by being turned to quartz. At least that’s what the legend says.”

  “That sounds like what happened last year.” I glance between Ella and Dannika. “To the students. They looked like wooden statues after the poisoning took full effect.”

  For a long moment, the three of us are quiet. Dannika almost died last year, and I’m wondering if maybe I shouldn’t have drawn attention to the similarities. With the ministers here, everyone is scared enough as it is. And now with a professor dead…

  Ella straightens in her seat. “You think this has something to do with what happened last year,” she says, tone matter of fact.

  “It would depend on how she died.” I need to choose my words carefully. This could be my chance to get help, but I can’t let anyone find out why I’m concerned. “We need to know if she was poisoned.”

  Dannika pushes her book to the corner of her desk and slouches in her seat, shaking her head. “I doubt we’ll get any information about her death the professors don’t want us to know,” she says. “They aren’t going to want us to be afraid.”

  “We should talk to Erick about this.” Ella stands up, her bag already slung over her should. She hugs her book to her chest. “He’ll know what to do.”

  A flutter starts in my stomach, but it quickly turns sour. Erick and I haven’t spoken since that day in the woods. I have no idea what to say to him when I see him.

  “He didn’t last year,” I say, perhaps a bit too harshly. “I don’t know why you keep turning to him for answers when he doesn’t know any more than any of us.”