by Sarina Dorie
I felt as though I were a balloon floating on a string as I exited my own mind. It wasn’t so different from the sensation I’d experienced when I had left my body and almost hadn’t come back. Bodiless, my consciousness drifted above a barren landscape pocked with dunes and craters that reminded me of the surface of the moon. The desolate desert below glittered with stars. One nearby twinkled purple and red, fluctuating between two notes that fought for victory. Music that tasted like cyanide and starlight emanated from this star. I suspected this was Vega in her own dream.
I passed other stars, a green one that tasted of herbs, hinting at Grandmother Bluehorse’s essence. Another green light, musky and male, reminded me of Pinky. I pushed myself away from the familiar minds of those nearest to me and sought Derrick’s essence.
I scented the wind like a hound and headed to the right. The horizon glittered with an endless number of stars. I passed miniature galaxies of people clustered in spirals before I saw the blue light on the horizon. He twinkled brilliantly, a beacon to me. As I grew closer, my certainty solidified it was him. I drifted down, hesitating just before the floating blue door that looked as though it were hanging in the sky. It glowed cobalt, the hue inviting me, mesmerizing me. I inhaled his scent.
Part of me still felt something for Derrick, though the emotion my consciousness most easily had access to was confusion. Here in this dreamscape, deeper layers of emotions surfaced. Part of me still loved him, even after what he’d done to me.
“It truly is beautiful,” a man’s voice said.
I didn’t turn exactly. I had no body. It was more that my consciousness expanded, seeing the door and the opposite direction at once.
Elric stood there in gold robes that contrasted with his long silvery hair. “I like the way your mind interprets the dream world.”
“Are you real?” I asked.
He grinned, his face as radiant as the moon. “As real as you are.”
“You’re here to stop me,” I said.
“Yes. I suspected you would try this. It isn’t wise.” He reached out and pinched my nose playfully.
I hadn’t realized I had a face in this place. Only now did I start to feel semisolid with Elric in my presence.
“Am I that predictable?”
He laughed. “You are less so than most humans, and far less than a Fae.” He took my hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow, guiding me away from Derrick’s door. “With my people, we can be so easy to predict. One or two thousand years is more than enough time to fall into ruts and bad habits. Weak as Witchkin magic might be compared to Fae, it’s your creativity that surpasses our own. It wasn’t just the nature of how your energy affected Fae that made the Lost Red Court such a threat. Many Red affinities are artists. You are creative.”
“Not so creative that you didn’t know I would come here.” I glanced back over my shoulder. The door to Derrick’s mind was a distant rectangle.
“Your attempt to seek Derrick out and find a way to speak with him was predictable. The way you executed your method of rebelling was not.” His eyes didn’t shift like a kaleidoscope as he spoke. They remained fixed a yellow gold. “I am connected to you on two accounts. One is that you are an artist, and I am a muse. Two, you are allied to me, and we have a stronger bond than if you were not. I can enter your subconscious as I deem necessary, just as I can summon those who have made contracts with me.”
It had been stupid to think I could trick a Fae. He had far more experience and magic than I had.
My heart felt heavy with defeat. I just wanted to help Thatch and Khaba.
He patted my hand. “A muse and a Red affinity are a good combination. There is a symbiotic relationship that can benefit us both.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But that didn’t stop the Silver Court from destroying the Lost Red Court.”
“Indeed. Instead of using that to our advantage and making allies with those possessing skills that complemented our own, my father, as well as many other sovereigns, joined together to crush the Red Court. Too many Fae fear electricity—and more than that—creativity. Thinking outside our limited boundaries helps you find new solutions to old problems—namely our rules. I believe that together, you and I might be able to change their minds and make them see you with renewed interest rather than scorn.”
“Interest to use us,” I said.
“So cynical! Is that Mr. Thatch rubbing off on you and making you distrust the world?”
I watched the stars scattered across the dunes before us. I had failed in my task. And yet, perhaps I hadn’t. Elric was here before me. We weren’t limited by what we could say in a letter. Thus far, he’d been open with me.
“Is it safe to speak with you here?” I asked. “Are there spies who can get into my dreams?” If he could, maybe others could as well.
“I believe we’re alone. I am your muse.” A smile touched his lips at that. “Unless there’s something you aren’t telling me.”
I doubted Thatch counted as a muse, nor was he a secret.
“I want to talk to you about the reason I need to talk with Derrick. The thing is, I don’t actually need to speak with him myself. Khaba does. When Derrick worked here as the invisible man, I accidentally disabled the wards Thatch had used to protect him—and me. Thatch cloaked Derrick’s memories and made him forget about his abduction and being tortured by the Raven Queen.” Guilt gnawed at me as I recounted the tale. “After I released the protective spells, Derrick started behaving strangely. He was probably fighting the curse, but he couldn’t stop himself. He killed people and drained them.”
Elric nodded. “Yes. He told me he suspected as much. He experienced several blackouts. The only murder he remembers committing is yours. He does feel terrible about it. As strange as it is, he thought killing you was the only way he could save you from the Raven Queen.”
I sighed, my heart heavier than ever. It was hard talking about this, hard hearing Elric talk about that night. I wondered what other personal details Derrick had told him. I would have liked to have said goodbye to him. I understood Khaba’s need for closure with Brogan.
“So Derrick doesn’t remember killing Brogan?” I asked.
“That was Khaba’s lover?” Elric asked. “He remembers, but not clearly. If I dug a little deeper into his psyche, I could unearth the truth and show it to him, but what would be the point? It’s easier for him to heal if he denies murdering his colleagues and friends.”
Opening the door to Derrick’s dream had not only been a dangerous plan, but it would have been futile. “I need to find another way to convince Khaba that Felix Thatch wasn’t the one who killed Brogan.”
“Is that what this is about? Our wonderful Mr. Thatch?” Elric’s lips turned down. “You want to speak with Derrick so that he’ll vouch for Thatch and prove what a kind, heroic, and selfless man he is?”
“Yes,” I said.
“I forbid you from disrupting Derrick’s peace for such a paltry reason as that.”
I lifted my chin. “You aren’t my father. You can’t tell me what to do.”
“No, I’m not your father. I’m your sovereign now. A benign ruler, but one you are bound to obey.”
I glared at him. Fine. If Elric wanted to believe he could command me, he could keep that fantasy. I would have to use my creativity to outthink him.
Some of the shimmering angelic beauty left Elric’s face as anger took hold of him. “I have tolerated your relationship with Thatch because it has been my hope that you will outgrow this infatuation with him. Sooner or later you will come to realize he doesn’t fancy you. At best, he is using you to fulfill his fantasies with your biological mother.”
“No!” They’d never had a relationship. Felix Thatch loved me. He’d told me so, and I believed him.
Elric’s golden eyes smoldered. “I will not deny you the privilege of seeing him because it is in my best interest for you to tire of him and his immoral ways. It is bette
r you should decide this on your own than I should force my decree upon you and make you resent me.”
I drew my arm from his. “Yes, it is.”
“He will reveal his true self to you. Eventually, you will catch him in a lie. You will see I was telling the truth about him molesting you and using pain magic on you. He’ll do it again against your consent and hurt you to supply himself with power.”
Every time Elric brought this up, it made me angrier than the last time. “You’re a liar. He never did anything to me without my consent.”
“Except try to drain you. Don’t tell me it was to rescue you. He would do it again should he have an excuse to do so.”
I didn’t intend to listen to this. I pushed away from him, propelling myself across the landscape toward my own mind.
“You don’t have to believe me,” Elric said. “My only regret in all this is my lack of ability to check on you and ensure your safety with more frequency than I am currently permitted. Between Mr. Khaba and your school’s new Fae-hating principal, I must rely on Vega to make poppets of you to protect you from harm—which you then destroy.”
“That was a voodoo doll. She was going to stick pins in it.”
“No. It was to keep you safe. If only you would trust your friends, perhaps we would have an easier time of it.”
Vega could have told me it wasn’t a voodoo doll. “Who are you trying to keep me safe from? Felix?”
“Indeed.” He glanced away.
That told me there was something more. “Who else? The Raven Queen?”
“Certainly.”
“And?” When he said nothing, I prompted. “Your father?”
“My family regrets driving you off. They have seen the errors of their ways.”
Especially if they knew what I was and how useful I could be.
I hesitated, uncertain whether Elric would admit who wanted to harm me if I asked. He hadn’t answered my letters when I’d asked him about the Princess of Lies and Truth. Then again, that may have been someone tampering with my mail. Perhaps it was Vega, or perhaps it was the person she feared.
“Vega is in someone else’s employment,” I said. “Someone who has coerced her to do their bidding.”
“Are you talking about Thatch?” he demanded. “She told me she doesn’t need him to accompany her to dance clubs now that she has me. I am a superior dancer. Even she says so.”
Was that jealousy? I would have teased him about it if the circumstances had been different.
“It’s a woman,” I said. “Vega can’t tell me who because of some kind of oath. She’s afraid for her soul if she does. I received death threats, and there was a note. I might be wrong, but I think it’s coming from someone named—”
Vertigo washed over me. The line connecting me to my body went taut, reeling me back toward my own dream rather than this in-between place I used for traveling.
Elric stretched out a hand toward me, reaching across the growing divide between us. His brow was crinkled in confusion. I tried to grab onto him, to yell out the princess’s title, but I couldn’t. My breath was stolen from my lungs. Usually I could bend reality around me in my dreams. Thatch had helped me practice controlling the fabric of this other world. Yet I couldn’t make myself reverse directions or speak.
I felt the princess in my mind, an ominous pressure trying to invade the fortress of my subconscious. I had a feeling she would have given me nightmares if she could have, but this was as close as she could get.
My consciousness whipped through the door to my own dreams, the heavy wood closing with a thud of finality. The ivy shifted back into place. I woke with a start, sweating and breathing heavily in my own room.
She didn’t want Elric to know her name. That must have meant something. She had feared I might be getting too close to her identity.
Not only did I need to prove to Khaba that Thatch was innocent, I needed to figure out who this enemy was who had just invaded my mind, before she found a way to do worse.
CHAPTER TEN
Fairy Tales for Wicked Witches
Before school in Thatch’s office in the dungeon, I spoke with him about the invasion of my dreams, though I didn’t mention Elric or my attempt to see Derrick. Those details were unnecessary, and more than that, they would have set him off. I sat in the metal meditation chair, Thatch in his seat on the other side of the desk as he’d insisted on remaining a professional distance from me.
“It’s troubling to know she possesses this ability,” Thatch said. “But not surprising a Fae should wish to infiltrate your dreams.”
That made me feel loads better.
He removed his notebook from his pocket, the rectangle expanding to full size. “On the other hand, I am pleased to hear you’ve been keeping up with your lucid-dreaming techniques. If we continue strengthening your control, she won’t be able to get in and influence you. This might be a lesson that would benefit Miss Bloodmire as well.” He jotted a note down in his book.
“Do you have any ideas about what to do?” I asked.
“Indeed.” He continued writing.
“Are you going to tell me?” I tried to read what he wrote, but it was difficult to make out the fancy cursive upside down.
It was a long moment before he looked up. “I will make inquiries about the matter.”
I watched his eyes, trying to detect whether he was being honest. “Do you know who the Princess of Lies and Truth is?”
“No. That is what I intend to make further inquiries about. Miss Bloodmire might not be able to reveal any details, but it is my belief she is leaving us clues. Notice how she has interrupted our lessons twice this week. This is no coincidence. She is purposefully trying to keep us apart.”
“To protect us?” She had said her employer gained power when we were intimate.
“Perhaps. It is possible if I keep watch on Miss Bloodmire, she will unwittingly lead us to this Fae. It’s best to keep this from her as not to arouse any suspicion that she’s under watch.”
I didn’t want the Princess of Lies and Truth to gain a greater hold on me or to make it easier to get into the school where she could harm my students.
Vega was my roommate. I was around her far more than I wanted. “How can I help?” I asked.
“By not getting involved in this.”
“I’m already involved. This Fae has been spying on me and threatening me.” I corrected that. “Us. I can tell you if Vega is doing anything suspicious.”
“Indeed. And that is all you shall do. I am quite able to handle the rest. Do not attempt to extort information from her. This supposed ‘princess’ will know.” He rose.
Reluctantly, I stood as well. I didn’t want to go yet, but I didn’t want to miss my breakfast duty. “I wasn’t going to try to question Vega. You don’t have to do that thing you do, getting all bossy about it.”
“I apologize. I know you don’t like it when I behave . . . how did you put it? ‘All in your face?’”
I laughed.
He stretched out a hand toward me. I walked around his desk and took it. He squeezed my fingers. “I did warn you having a relationship with me wouldn’t be easy.”
“Yeah, I just didn’t think it would involve outside forces trying to keep us apart.”
He lifted my hand to his lips. “Nor did I.”
“I miss you,” I said.
Our recreational activities had been limited during our new principal’s reign. Our time together in general had been sparse.
The gray of his eyes studied me with such intensity I felt as though he could look inside me and see the way I pined for him. “I’ll make an effort to remove myself from the depths of my lair and venture into the sunlight of your classroom this week during Art Club. I’m certain I can find something to paint. Surely that wouldn’t raise anyone’s suspicions.”
I liked the idea of spending time with him in that way, though it wasn’t quite the same as sex. He tu
gged me closer.
I hugged him, savoring the warmth of his arms. “How long do you think it will be before we can spend some alone-time together?”
“It depends what you propose to do during this time and whether Miss Bloodmire—”
A knock pounded at the door, making me jump. The handle rattled, and the knock came again. Thatch arched an eyebrow upward. “Speak of the devil.”
Without even meaning to, I reached out with my mind. The person on the other side of the door was as tall as Vega but heavier. His breathing was labored, and his heart raced from the steps. Thatch laid a hand on my elbow, guiding me back to my seat. He sat again in his comfy ergonomic chair.
Thatch flicked a hand at the door, and it unlocked. The door swung open. I couldn’t see anyone, but I already knew who it was. Our newest invisible man.
Rudy McDougal’s gruff voice announced, “Mr. Thatch, why is this door locked?”
“Obviously,” Thatch said with a dramatic pause, “I wanted to keep people out.”
“Is that sarcasm, Mr. Thatch?”
Thatch’s tone remained as neutral as ever. “Me? Sarcasm. I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“The principal wants office doors open while teachers are in meetings. It looks suspicious when doors are locked, like someone’s trying to hide something.” The security guard huffed, which I suspected was more because he was winded than indignant.
Thatch’s voice remained neutral. “Yes, of course. I’ll remember that the next time I’m meeting with my colleagues as we discuss student grades and other private matters we wish students not to overhear.”
I tried not to laugh.
Fabric rustled as Rudy stepped forward. “I should think that after your meeting with Mr. Dean and Mr. Khaba, you would find it to be in your best interest to keep a level of transparency in your dealings with certain staff members. We wouldn’t want rumors to start.”
“Why, I am transparent. As transparent as . . . an invisible man.” Thatch tilted his head to the side, affecting an air of surprise as he looked to me. “Miss Lawrence, I must apologize for not thinking of your reputation in this situation. I should never have permitted you to close the door, lest others think less of your honor. I do hope you’ll forgive me.”
