A Curse of Flames (Fae Academy Book 2)

by Sophia Shade

  We both shrug. “It was unlocked when I found it,” I say, leaving out the details about me trying to pick the lock in the first place. “We really don’t know why or how the door actually unlocked.”

  “Well, this is too dangerous to leave open,” she says. She waves her hands over the door and utters an incantation. The door not only locks but disappears completely. “Don’t bother trying to get in there again,” she says, cutting her gaze at me. “I’ve banished it for good this time. I’d hoped one day we’d figure out how to remove the curse and save the artifacts, but because you students can’t stay out of rooms you’re not supposed to go into, I guess the odds of that are gone!”

  Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. My choices just ruined any chance of saving those artifacts.

  Almost in a daze, I walk over to where the door was and run my hand down the empty wall, disappointment washing over me, as if I am missing an old friend.

  “Looks like I got rid of the room just in time,” she says.

  I push myself away and force myself to face her.

  “Headmistress,” I say. “Do you really think Damon is guilty? That he was behind the murder of Professor Crowsfly or had some connection to Myra?”

  “Of course not,” she says. “But I don’t think any of my staff would be capable of such evil. I’m wrong about someone.”

  “Don’t doubt your instincts,” I say. “What are they telling you right now?”

  She sighs, seeming to debate if she should be having this discussion with a student.

  “I’m the one who discovered Myra,” I say, hoping she will open up to me. “No one feels more connected to this case than I do. If there is anything you know that could help and put my mind at ease, please tell me.”

  “I don’t know about Myra,” she says. “The girl was clearly disturbed, to do that to her own classmates…” She shakes her head. “It’s likely she was acting alone.”

  “But what about Professor Crowsfly?” I ask. “Is there really no connection?”

  “I don’t know of a connection,” she says. “But she died after those ministers arrived. It could easily have been one of them just as much as one of us. I’m not saying one of them did it, but who is investigating the investigators?”

  I think about Minister Demis and the odd smile from Minister Tempest. If any of the ministers is guilty about something, it’s one of them. Especially Minister Demis. What was he doing in the human world? Why was he chasing us? What was the point of him trying to come across as human?

  “Well,” Headmistress Shadowburn says, waving her concerns away. “It’s probably not them. Of course, I just want to cast blame on someone I don’t know. The consequences that will follow if the killer is a teacher or students here, right under my own nose? I don’t want to even think about it.”

  “I understand,” I say with a compassionate nod. “But we have to examine all angles.”

  “Who is we?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “I hope you don’t think you need to be involved in this. It is far too dangerous. Please stay as far away from the ministers and the investigation as possible.”

  I can’t help but chuckle to myself. “Of course, Headmistress,” I say.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with?” she asks.

  “Did you know my mom is missing?” I ask her.

  She sighs. “Yes, Mr. Clawfire told me just before he was arrested. Let me reassure you that we are all certain she is fine.”

  “That’s what everyone seems to think,” I say. “But you don’t know her. I know she’s not fine.”

  She nods. “Will you give me twenty-four hours? I will send my best men to look for her.”

  Twenty-four hours seems like a long time when it comes to a loved one. But I incline my head. “Twenty-four hours,” I say. “And if you don’t, will you release me from the bond Mr. Clawfire put on me?”

  “It’s a deal,” she says.

  She holds out her hand, and I shake it.

  Chapter 24

  There is nothing else I can do for now but wait. I try to eat dinner, but I have no appetite. Ella tries to talk to me and cheer me up, but my mind keeps wandering. Dannika is there, but she doesn’t say much, mostly keeping to herself. It’s obvious she’s still mad and hurt, but I can’t tell her about my visions, not yet.

  Erick hangs out with us, too, trying to distract me from the twenty-four-hour deadline. Caleb is nowhere to be found, which is fine. I’m not ready to confront him yet. That’s going to be an emotional roller coaster I just can’t ride right now.

  I decide to call it an early night. The earlier I go to sleep, the sooner tomorrow will be here. I’ll be one day closer to finding Mom.

  Almost as soon as I fall asleep, I wake back up. I’m wide awake. When I roll over to see what time it is, the clock on my bedside table is blinking midnight.

  Wait a minute. I don’t have a bedside clock in my dorm room.

  Realizing I’m back in my bedroom in the human realm, I cautiously sit up.

  “Hello?” I call, but no one answers.

  I get up and open the door. “Is anyone here?”

  There are noises coming from somewhere in the house, so I go down the hallway. The smell of breakfast cooking is strong. I rush down the stairs and see Mom in the kitchen with her back to me, flipping pancakes.

  “Mom,” I cry, running to embrace her.

  But as I do, she turns around, and it’s not Mom. It’s a woman I don’t know.

  “Who are you?” I ask as I step back.

  “I’m Therese Goodkind,” she says.

  “The divination professor?” I ask. “What are you doing here?”

  “Thankfully, the full effect of the nightscape had not worn off yet,” she says, “so I’m able to still communicate with you in your dreams, where it’s safe.”

  “You gave me the nightscape?” I ask. “Why?”

  “Forgive me,” she says. She plates the pancakes, and then comes to takes a seat at the table. “Eat something. You must be famished.”

  It seems both odd and completely natural to be sitting down and eating in this moment, especially considering it’s a dream. But dream or not, I feel hungry, and I can’t remember the last time I ate a full meal.

  “Unfortunately, you have to be unconscious for the nightscape to work,” she explains. “So you have to either be asleep or put into a dream state to have a vision. When I heard your mom was missing, I knew you would go back to your house, and you would be safe there for a while.”

  “How did you know Mom was missing?” I ask. I shovel a whole pancake into my mouth in two bites. They are so good.

  “Word travels fast,” she says with a smirk. “Especially among those of us with…gifts.”

  “What kind of gifts?” I ask. “Does this have to do with having visions?”

  “Something like that,” she says. “Lucid dreaming, visions, prophecy, dream walking…it’s all related, even if some Fae want to pretend none of it exists.”

  “Like the Dark Blessed?” I ask.

  She freezes for a moment, staring at me over her cup of coffee.

  “And what would you know about the Dark Blessed?” she asks.

  “That I am one,” I say.

  I’m not exactly sure why I tell her, but she would be the person most knowledgeable about the topic. The person least likely to be afraid of such power and knowledge. And this is a dream, after all. She’d be hard pressed to convince anyone I’m Dark Blessed based on something I supposedly said in a dream.

  She nods slowly and calmly sips her coffee. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met a Dark Blessed. This is quite exciting.”

  “What should I do about it?” I ask. I dig into another pancake, shoving a bite into my mouth.

  She shrugs. “Nothing. Not yet anyway. Your visions aren’t a danger to you or anyone else. Just learn to listen to them and interpret them. Understanding visions can be quite tricky.”

  “That’s an understatement,”
I say. “If you didn’t know I was Dark Blessed, why did you give me a vision?”

  “I was told in a vision of my own that you held the key to Frieda’s death,” she says. “That I needed to help you find the answer. That’s why I gave you the nightscape.”

  “The answer to Professor Crowsfly’s death was in my vision about my mother?” I ask, confused. I pick up another pancake and lather it with strawberry jelly. My dream stomach seems to be a bottomless pit.

  “I don’t know what your vision was,” she says. “But you need to focus. Visions are often multi-layered. You think about the main event, but you need to pay attention to what’s happening on the sidelines as well. It could be the message wasn’t where you were looking.”

  “In the vision,” I tell her, “my mom was fighting with Caleb’s dad. But she had powers, like a Fae. Do you know what it means?”

  She shakes her head. “Sorry,” she says. “I don’t know anything about that. But let me help you. Can you remember your vision?”

  I nod. She reaches out and touches my forehead. “Then let’s go back…”

  My chair tips backward, and I feel like I’m falling. I scream out and reach for something, anything, to grab onto, but my hands just flail.

  I land on my feet.

  I’m back in the Winter Court, staring down on my mom fighting with Caleb’s dad.

  “Mom,” I try to call out, but once again, she can’t hear me.

  Someone takes my hand. When I look up, I see Professor Goodkind.

  “Focus,” she says. “Look around. Who else is here?”

  I look from face to face, at the members of the Unseelie Court, but I don’t know any of them. I point down to the arena, to the shadowy corner where there is a half-hidden man.

  “Him,” I say. “Who is he?”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t know,” she says. “But he looks human. I don’t think he killed Frieda. Who else?”

  I sigh and stare around again. I’m about to tell her that I don’t recognize anyone when I see him all the way across the room, about to leave.

  “Minister Demis,” I say. “One of the ministers of justice! I keep seeing him.”

  She nods. “Then let’s follow him.”

  “But I can’t,” I say. “I’m stuck to the floor.” I try to take a step to show her, but I can’t move.

  Grimacing, she pulls my arm. She yanks so hard I think she’s going to dislocate the socket, but then my feet wrench free.

  “Sometimes we all need a little help,” she says. “Consider that a free lesson.”

  I nod. I do need to learn to ask for help more often, but I also need to know who I can trust. But that’s a conversation for later.

  I take her hand, and we run toward Minister Demis. He goes down a hallway, away from my mom and the fight. He doesn’t seem interested in it at all. He is speaking with another man.

  “The plan will work,” he says. “We just need someone on the inside.”

  “Getting someone into Callador will be difficult,” the other man says. “Shadowburn is meticulous about who she lets teach there. She won’t let anyone undermine her attempts at unity.” He nearly spits out the word unity like its dirt on his tongue.

  “Oh, it will work,” Minister Demis says. “Because we already have someone there.”

  They stop walking when they come up to a woman with flowing black hair. She turns around.

  “A pleasure to see you again, Lady Crowsfly,” Minister Demis says. “Or should I say, Professor?”

  The three of them laugh. Bringing my shocked gaze to Professor Goodkind, I realize we are back at the kitchen table. Her head is laying on her arms and she raises it wearily.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m getting a little weak. Did you see what you needed to?”

  “I think so,” I say. “Minister Demis and Frieda were working together to somehow undermine the school.”

  “Frieda was a traitor?” Professor Goodkind asks. “I can hardly believe that. She was one of Headmistress Shadowburn’s biggest supporters from the Winter Court.”

  “Maybe it was all an act,” I say excitedly.

  “Or maybe it wasn’t,” she says. “Maybe she didn’t want to work with the minister anymore.”

  “So he killed her,” I say.

  “Maybe,” Professor Goodkind says. “But you still have to find a way to prove it.”

  “Leave that to me,” I say.

  “Or course,” she says, smiling warmly. Then she taps me on the forehead. “Wake up.”

  And I do.

  I wake up, and I’m back in my bed at Callador.

  Chapter 25

  I bang on the door to Caleb’s room. It’s not even dawn yet, but I don’t care. I need to talk to him, find out more about Professor Crowsfly and Minister Demis.

  He slowly opens the door to his room, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He’s standing there in just his boxers, and his abs look amazing.

  “Hey,” he says when he realizes it’s me. “What’s wrong?”

  “I need your help,” I whisper. “Can we talk somewhere? I don’t want to wake your roommate.”

  He opens the door wider. “He’s not here. Family thing. What do you want?” He seems to have suddenly remembered he’s supposed to be mad at me.

  I glance back and forth down the hallway. “It would be easier to talk about it inside.”

  He sighs and rolls his eyes, but he opens the door wider before heading deeper in the room. At his desk, he taps a lumiflower, which unfurls its petals and lights up the space like a lamp.

  “You sure picked a fine time to talk about what happened between you and Erick at the bridge the night of the moon festival,” he says, flopping onto his bed.

  “I’m actually not here to talk about that,” I say. Gingerly, I sit on his roommate’s bed. “I mean, yeah, we do need to talk about that, but not now. Something more important has come up.”

  “What do you need?” he asks. I’m surprised at how little convincing I have to do for him to help me.

  “I told you I would come to you for anything related to the Unseelie Court,” I say. “Did you find out anything about Professor Crowsfly?”

  “Oh, right.” He sits up and shakes his head. I can practically see the grogginess fully clearing. “I mean, I did investigate her, but I don’t think I found anything helpful. She was in good standing in the court. There have been rumors in the past that she might be a separatist, but there is no evidence. And the rumors are old, like from decades ago. Since she has been at Callador, no one has even suspected her of separatist activities. She’s actually known for supporting unity on Lady Shadowburn’s behalf.”

  “What is a separatist?” I ask. “I’ve never heard anyone use that term before, ever.”

  “You know, separate realms for the Seelie and Unseelie courts. Many think we can’t coexist,” he says. “There’s lots of history and bad blood between the courts. People like Lady Shadowburn—and the kings, of course—have been supporting unity, but there are factions that want complete separation.”

  “Right,” I say. “What about Minister Demis? Do you know him?”

  He nods. “I’ve stayed away from him and the rest of the investigators because I didn’t want people to think I was influencing their investigation, but he’s a minor Unseelie royal. Very minor. Like, an uncle’s cousin’s mother’s second cousin’s third son minor. He’s technically family.”

  I can’t help but chuckle. “I guess when you live forever, those family trees get pretty big.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Do you know if he’s a…what’s did you call it…separatist?” I ask.

  Caleb’s smile fades, and he presses his lips together. After a moment, he shakes his head. “That’s a dangerous charge,” he says darkly. “The king broaches no separatist talk, especially from the family.”

  “But have there been rumors?” I persist.

  “I haven’t heard any, no,” he says. “I wasn’t l
ooking for any, though. But now you mention it, I do know he has a history with Professor Crowsfly. He courted her many, many years ago. She seemed amiable to the match in the beginning. But for some reason, she called it off. There was a lot of family drama about it at the time, I guess. This was all before I was born.”

  “If she was a separatist at the time,” I say as I stand and start to pace, “then he might have been one, too. Then if she changed her feelings on the matter after getting to know Headmistress Shadowburn, that could have caused the riff between them.”

  “You think Minister Demis killed Professor Crowsfly over, what, some lover’s quarrel?” he asks, skeptical.

  “No,” I say. “I think he killed her over a failed separatist plot. Like she was going to reveal him or something. He could also be behind the magical bomb earlier. His plan with Frieda failed, so he decided to just blow up the school instead.”

  Caleb stands and runs his fingers through his hair. He blows a thin breath through his lips. “This is dangerous grounds, Imogen,” he says. “To accuse a royal of treason is…it’s almost beyond reason, even if it is true. If you can’t prove it, you’d be the one guilty of treason against the royal family.”

  “Then we need to find evidence.”

  “Don’t you have any already?” he asks. “How did you find all this out anyway?”

  “Professor Goodkind gave me some nightscape, and I had a vision.”

  “Divination is…tricky,” he says. “How do you know the vision is true?”

  “That’s a good point,” I say, frowning. “There were other things I saw in the vision that couldn’t be true.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like my mom and your dad battling it out in an arena,” I say.

  Caleb bursts out laughing. “What? That’s crazy.”

  “I know, right?” I laugh, too, for the first time in longer than I can remember.

  I miss him. Miss his easygoing nature and the comfort I feel in his presence. I’m not ready to talk about what happened at the Moon Festival, because I know I screwed up. And if we talk about it, we probably won’t be able to recover what we had. If we don’t talk about it, we can still pretend everything is fine, even though it’s about as far from fine as possible.