Senior Witch, Fall Semester

by Ingrid Seymour

  “I don’t know why you should seek peace when your husband calls for war, but what I do know is that the Academy’s leaders—Dean Nyquist and the other regents—offer you a chance to see your family again. To be together.”

  I took a deep breath as emotions got the best of me. It was all a lie. They wouldn’t be together. They might not even be able to see each other. Still, I went on, appealing to her emotions.

  “If it were me,” I said. “I would come, no matter the cost.”

  Under the table, I gripped my leg, holding back tears. Kiana might have thought they were tears for my lost loved ones, but they were tears that marked the internal war raging inside myself. At that moment, I hated myself. Hated everything I had become. Was this really what I wanted? To lie and deceive? Was this really for the greater good? What would the cost be after everything was said and done?

  Kiana was silent as she drank in my words. Suddenly, she was standing.

  “We shall see, human. For now, we will test you. We’re in no hurry. Follow me.”

  I did as I was told. We left the dining hall through another dirt tunnel, the warriors’ eyes tracking my every move, deep distrust etching their strange faces. My heart hammered out of control.

  We will test you. What had she meant by that?

  Crap! What had I gotten myself into?

  Chapter Eight

  SUMMER BREAK

  APRIL

  The fae realm was a paradise, a dream-like world that made my own feel withered and sickly.

  Mother nature, or whatever the fae called it, was undisputed queen. She was pristine and exquisitely beautiful, a celebration of the senses that made me drunk as soon as we exited the dirt tunnel and stepped into a luscious forest of green and wonder.

  I was awestruck.

  My eyes widened as I took in the bright green, moss-covered path that extended before us. Teal, purple, and golden flowers carpeted the bases of trees with massive trunks the width of a car. Branches swooped down like swan necks, reaching for the ground but never touching it. Lush, sweet-smelling fruit hung invitingly within arm’s length. I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my skinny jeans, fighting the temptation to snatch one and eat it.

  Kiana walked lithely down the path, beckoning with a slender hand as I lagged behind enthralled by the sights.

  I hurried ahead, tearing my eyes from a cluster of butterflies that seemed to be performing a synchronized dance around a huge, swaying sunflower.

  Kiana stopped where the path dropped and waited for me. When I joined her, my awe turned to abject reverence.

  Below, at the base of a gently-sloping hill, lay a city, unlike anything I had ever seen. It was like a California redwood forest had conceived a baby with the forest from that Avatar movie, then had delivered it under the iridescent sky of a Tolkien novel.

  The place was a fairytale of tree-shaped homes, hanging vine bridges, gentle paths that bent organically, weaving through the woods. A crystalline river also wound lazily through the fae city. It sparkled in the sunlight, gurgling and lending its turquoise surface to ducks, geese, and other birds I had no name for.

  “Welcome to Alanthyl,” Kiana said, sweeping an arm forward. “This is my Queendom.”

  The stern expression went out of her and was replaced by pride. Her chin rose. A slight smile touched her lips. Her green hair blew in the breeze. She looked royal and grand, a creature who knew her place in the world and fit it well.

  We descended the small hill and entered the city, which only meant we went from one patch of trees into another. Still, I could feel I’d crossed some sort of boundary.

  As we wove through one of the paths, the people who noticed us immediately abandoned what they were doing and came forward.

  Their attention homed in on me the moment they realized I was human. Kiana slowed her pace, then stopped as they surrounded us—almost as if this inquisitive congregation had been her plan all along.

  The first few who approached us elbowed each other and stared as if shy in Kiana’s presence. My shoulders curved inwardly. As I focused on the dirt on my white shoelaces, more came closer. They asked quiet questions behind cupped hands. The mood quickly changed, then there came raised voices and pointing fingers, and, finally, a demanding question.

  “How is this human here?” a fae male, nearly seven-foot tall, distinguished himself from the circle by taking a step forward. Violet eyes glanced down at me, giving me a quick assessment that seemed to strip me to my bare bones. He appeared to be in his mid-forties, but with fae, one never knew.

  “Well met, brother,” Kiana said with a slight bow and a disapproving air.

  My gaze flicked from one to the other. Were they brother and sister? They both had horns, though they were much different in size. His were thick and curved like a ram’s. His skin was golden, not green, but there was still a certain resemblance. He even reminded me of Sinasre. He was shirtless, wearing a pair of brown leather pants that molded perfectly to his long legs. His plate-size pectoral muscles and corded arms were heavily scarred and tattooed. He was a fae warrior if I ever saw one.

  The male straightened to attention and bowed back. “Well met, my Queen.” He held the position for a fraction of a second, then dropped it just as abruptly. “How is this human here?” he demanded again.

  “She came through the portal, Phraan,” Kiana said.

  Gasps and sharp inhales sounded through the crowd.

  “What?!” Phraan inhaled sharply. “The gate is open?” His features opened up somehow. As if they had been pinched into a permanent frown and it had suddenly relaxed. Was that relief?

  “No,” Kiana said. “The gate remains closed to us, but the humans have sent an emissary.” She glanced in my direction.

  Phraan’s strange-colored eyes assessed me again. If looks could pulverize, I would have turned to dust on the spot. He opened his mouth to say something, but the crowd behind me lurched as someone pushed their way to the front.

  “Excuse me. Excuse me,” a distressed voice said. “Is it true? Excuse me!”

  A young girl that appeared to be in her late teens popped out of the crowd and entered the intimidating circle that had formed around me. She was tall and athletic with long legs and arms. Her skin was like cream, white and smooth, except for a smattering of freckles at the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were large and round, like a toddler’s. They matched the intense violet of Phraan’s eyes.

  She wore a pair of thigh-high black boots over tan leggings. A tight, sleeveless bodice held back small breasts and revealed toned biceps. A belt with double buckles circled her waist and held a sheath with a small dagger. Two-toned white and violet hair tumbled down her shoulders.

  Her presence filled the circle like foam expanding and making itself known. She was lovely, beautiful beyond anything humanly possible, but there was an edge in her expression that made my bones shiver as if in warning. This wasn’t someone you wanted to mess with.

  She was panting and sweating as she stopped and focused her round eyes on me. A frown parted her forehead as she appraised me, her upper lip curling slightly as if she were seeing an alien for the first time. I figured she was.

  “A human?” she said, sounding halfway certain. “It is true then.” She turned to Phraan, her eyes filling with tears. “Father.” The girl took a step forward and grabbed Phraan’s hand. “We can get Lancer back.”

  Lancer? Was she talking about the same Lancer I knew, Anama’s white-haired friend?

  Phraan shook his head and extricated his large hand from his daughter’s. “No, Tally. They’ve only let this one human through. The portal is still closed.”

  Tally’s face seemed to crumble.

  “There seems to be hope, nonetheless,” Kiana said, lifting her eyes toward the crowd. “This human girl brings news of Taurion, Anama, and Sinasre.” Her voice trembled slightly as she pronounced the names of her husband and children.

  “What sort of news?” Phraan asked.

  “A chance f
or peace, perhaps. An opportunity for me to go to the human realm to negotiate peace between our kinds.”

  A general hum traveled over the crowd. Pointed ears perked up, noses twitched, hooves stamped the ground. A sea of strange faces—some dark, some pale, some dappled—angled in my direction. Distrust clung to their features, but there was also hope. It pierced me like an accusation. How many hearts would my lies break in the end?

  I’d gone too far, and now there was no turning back.

  That night I slept inside a fragrant, petal-soft bed.

  Panic gripped me when Kiana informed me that we were not going to attempt to cross the portal today.

  “But I have to go back,” I’d told her, worrying about what Disha might do if she didn’t hear from me. “My friends are expecting me. If I stay, they will worry.”

  Kiana gave me a contemptuous glance. “One night of worry is nothing. Try ten years.”

  That had shut me up. Tally’s assertive eyes did too as she later led me up a set of knobby steps protruding from a thick tree and showed me to my bed.

  We reached a small platform midway up the tree.

  “There,” she pointed at a weird concave shape that looked like a giant peapod. It hung from a branch about twenty feet off the ground.

  I stared at it with a frown.

  Tally sighed and parted the thing open, revealing a sort of pocket that made me realize the peapod was a hammock of sorts. I nodded, awkwardly sat in it, and started removing my shoes.

  Night had descended over the fae city, and I felt physically and emotionally exhausted. My stomach growled. I’d been offered food more than once, but I’d refused it every time. If my cuffs would work, I would have cast a hunger-dampening spell, but they seemed as good as dead.

  Tally stood off to the side, watching me from the corner of her eye while she pretended to peer at the ground below.

  “How can we trust you when you won’t trust us?” she asked after a moment.

  I stopped, one foot propped on one knee, and tilted my head.

  “Oh, drop the act,” she said. “You won’t even eat our food.”

  Heat rose up my neck and flared in my cheeks. “Um, well, I’ve been told your food can do weird things to humans. That’s all.”

  Her violet eyes met mine. “Only if we want it to,” she said in a cold, calculating tone that made me tense.

  I focused on untying my shoelaces, working at the knot with exaggerated interest.

  “So… you met Lancer?” Tally asked in a choked tone.

  I glanced up. All day since my arrival, Kiana and her brother, Phraan, had grilled me with questions. Tally had been there, listening. She already knew I’d met Lancer. In fact, she knew everything, while I knew nothing except for what I’d been able to infer. I’d kept my questions to a minimum, whether out of politeness or fear, I didn’t know.

  “Yeah, I met him,” I said.

  “Is he fine, as you said?”

  “He is,” I lied. I didn’t think that telling her Lancer had disappeared through a rigged portal and I had no idea whether or not he was alive would help my case. “Is he… your brother?” I ventured a guess.

  Tally nodded once and sniffed, nonchalantly thumbing her nose.

  “I’m sorry you haven’t been able to see your brother in such a long time, Tally.”

  She spun on her heel and drilled me with her big, round eyes. “My name is Tallyndra. Only my friends call me Tally.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” I said.

  “You could have asked.”

  “Like you asked me?” I said, lifting my chin. No one had bothered to learn my name. I was just the human girl.

  Tallyndra huffed, a white eyebrow tilting arrogantly. “I don’t care to know your name. No one does.”

  She spun again, facing the edge of the platform, then jumped off.

  I gasped, dropped to my knees, and crawled to the border. I don’t know what I expected to see: a haughty fae female smashed beyond recognition? Whatever it was, I should have known better because as soon as I reached the ledge, Tallyndra rose in midair, hovering, a large pair of dark wings beating rapidly behind her.

  Holy crap! She had wings!

  They were unlike any other wings I’d ever seen. They weren’t feathered like a bird’s or flimsy and iridescent like a dragonfly’s. They looked strong and steady and utterly beautiful. Their surface was gently ridged and shone with moonlight, making it impossible to determine their color.

  I sat back, open-mouthed, and admired the easy way she just hung there, like some sort of silent hummingbird. Her wings made absolutely no sound. How was that possible? A glamour of some kind?

  She regarded me scornfully for a moment—a hawk realizing the prey she’d been hunting was insignificant and not worth her effort. Then she flew away.

  Chapter Nine

  SUMMER BREAK

  APRIL

  I slept like a baby in the peapod.

  It should have been impossible. I was in a strange place surrounded by people that looked capable of eating me alive. I was plagued by guilt, racked by hunger, and yet… I woke up rested.

  The song of birds drifted through the air. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves above me, tempting back to sleep.

  “The Queen wants to see you.”

  My eyes sprung open and peered at Tallyndra through the folds of my bed. The peapod swung wildly as I tried to rush out of it. Awkwardly, I got out and put on my shoes.

  As we descended the tree, Tallyndra leading the way, I stared at her back, trying to figure out where she kept her wings. Her bodice-like top was open in the back and her long hair went down in a single, thick braid. Still, I saw no sign of wings. None.

  We climbed back up the hill toward the dirt tunnel. I glanced back toward the fae city, feeling a strange pang in my chest as I tried to imagine what it would be like to live there.

  Tallyndra led me back to the dining hall where Kiana and her brother waited for me. I was instructed to sit to Kiana’s right. Tallyndra took the other chair at my side. No one said a word as a squat, round fae male served everyone steaming tea and colorful slices of fresh fruit.

  Kiana, Phraan, and Tallyndra began to eat while I stared at my food, my stomach rumbling.

  How can we trust you when you won’t trust us? Tallyndra’s words from last night rang in my ears.

  Hesitantly, I picked up a tiny, two-prong fork and stabbed a piece of strawberry. Feeling like I was gambling with my own life, I stuck it in my mouth and chewed.

  We finished our meal in silence while I waited for something odd to happen to my body. Nothing did. When we were done, Kiana put her teacup down and stood.

  “Take me to my family,” she said.

  “I think you’re making a mistake,” Phraan said. “You shouldn’t trust this human.”

  “We’ve discussed this already,” Kiana said, giving him a pointed look.

  “Why did they send you? Why didn’t this Nyquist come in your stead?” Phraan asked me. He’d posed this question and many others yesterday while they grilled me for hours. I answered just the same.

  “Because of my friendship with Sinasre and Anama, and because of these.” I lifted my hands to show my cuffs, same as I’d done yesterday. It was the same rehearsed answer I’d given him already.

  “If your leader wants peace, why not open the gate and let our families come home?” Phraan demanded.

  “It’s not only up to him, but he’s… willing to appeal to the High Council on your behalf.” The lie almost choked me, but I said it convincingly enough.

  “Enough, Phraan,” Kiana snapped. “We’ve been through this already.”

  Phraan took a deep breath as he seemed to rein in his temper. Then he stood, too, a disapproving expression shaping his strong features. He had the look of someone trying very hard not to say something more. He didn’t want his sister to go anywhere, but she was the Queen.

  I got up before I thought better of it and told them everything. I avoi
ded Phraan and Tallyndra’s piercing eyes. She was agreeing to come without the huge speeches and persuasions I’d been practicing in my head since I’d arrived. Could it be this easy? Had I done such a good job or was this some kind of trick?

  Kiana gave her brother and niece a long, regretful look that made me suspect she knew this was a trap. Had she guessed that the price for seeing her family again would be her freedom?

  With a heavy resigned sigh, she turned to me and said, “Follow me.”

  We left the dining hall and entered another dirt tunnel. The guards from yesterday were there. They stalked behind us with Kiana in the lead and me in the middle.

  The fae Queen took a series of turns down a labyrinth of identical tunnels. In minutes, I was so thoroughly lost that I was sure I would die in that place if Kiana decided to leave me behind.

  At last, the path ahead opened into a huge cavern with a rushing river in its center. I stared at the space with wide eyes. It was lit by the river itself, which glowed a turquoise green as it hurried past the rocky ledges that bordered it. Above, stalactites dangled and stalagmites reached up to grab their brothers. They glowed with bioluminescent swirls and symbols. Fae runes, I realized.

  The guards laid their weapons at the door and entered with their heads bowed while Kiana approached the water.

  The river rumbled over rocks, rushing like whitewater rapids.

  “This place is sacred,” she said over the noise. “Bow your head.”

  I did so, wondering why she was exempt, but I guessed royalty had different rules. Even so, when she got to the water, she hunched over, taking off her glittery twig crown and placing it at the water’s edge.

  “We enter here,” she said.

  “Here?” I studied the current. If we got in, we’d be swept away in a hot second and who knew where we’d end up since, just a few yards ahead, the river disappeared under a rocky wall that seemed like it led to the depths of hell.