by Sophia Shade
“You should watch where you’re going,” Erick points out. “What are you looking for, anyway?”
“I was just…wondering if Caleb was okay. Looked like I singed him pretty bad. Maybe he should stop by the infirmary, too.”
Erick snorts. “Caleb? I’m sure his hard head is just fine. He had no idea what he was doing. I shouldn’t have let him step in. It was my job to keep you safe, and…”
“Keep me safe?” I snap. Someone really needed to clue this kid in. “What are you talking about? I don’t know you. You aren’t my guardian. You’re just ‘checking up on me’ to soothe your own ego. You couldn’t teach me or protect me if you tried.”
“It’s not about you.” Erick stresses the last word, making me feel a little bit like I overacted compared to how calm he is. “It’s my job to watch out for all the ashlings.”
I cross my arms. “Is it, though? Who gave you that job?”
“Okay, maybe job was the wrong word…” He purses his lips, which is quite the feat considering he’s just took his good foto in his mouth. “I mean that I see looking out for ashlings as my responsibility.”
“Then I’m sure there are plenty of other people around here who could use your ‘protection’,” I say, using dramatic air quotes for emphasis so he doesn’t miss my sarcasm again.
I get that he means well in his own mind, but I don’t appreciate being treated like I’m less-than just because I’m a halfling, and that’s exactly the assumption this guy seems to have about us.
“Look, Imogen, I’m truly sorry if I’ve offended you in some way. But it’s not fair for you to get upset with me for trying to help you.”
I tune him out when another person, obviously heading for the infirmary, stumbles between us. I grab the young man by his elbow to help him catch his balance.
“You okay?” I ask, because he so doesn’t look it.
“I just…feel faint,” he murmurs, pulling away and continuing down the hall. He has to catch himself a couple of times against the wall before he gets to the infirmary.
“Okay, that’s not normal,” I say.
Erick guides me further down the hall. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Look, we’re here.” He points to the door. “History of Magic.”
“How can you be so sure?” I ask.
He points again. “No offense, Imogen, but it says so right on the door.”
I hold back an irritated growl. “I mean, the people who are getting sick. How do you know it’s nothing?”
“The same way I know everything else better than you,” he says. “I’ve been here longer.”
Wow. I thought maybe Erick meant well and just had bad people skills, but now I’m pretty sure he’s just a dick.
“Yeah, you and everyone else,” I say. “Thanks for the reminder.”
With that, I turn on my heel and head into class, thankful he’s not in this one with me. But as I take a seat at an empty desk, I see another student limping down the hallway with the help of some friends. I bet they are heading toward the infirmary, too.
Something weird is definitely going on around here.
Seven
My day is off to an amazingly awful start. Inappropriate touching, stares, blowing myself up, fighting with Coach Thorne’s assistant. Could I have made a worse first impression?
It turns out that yes, I can. Because when I realize no one is in class yet, and a schedule taped to the board informs me it doesn’t start for another twenty minutes, I decide to use that time to spy on the infirmary. Somehow, though, after a few minutes of eavesdropping, I get turned around. Other students pile into the halls for their next class, and I can’t remember which way I came from.
I hope to run into Dannika, but I don’t. When the halls empty again, I know it’s too late. She’s probably already in class. And I’m lost.
It’s a big school. I’m starting to get why people keep saying that.
Callador doesn’t have a sense of urgency to it, though. It has the sort of serene feeling one gets when exploring a library. Instead of feeling rushed, I feel surprisingly calm. Maybe that’s just because I haven’t met enough professors yet to know better. For all I know, I’m gonna get some kind of Fae detention for being late.
Really late, I think as the lower light twinkles through the crystal windows of the ivy-strewn halls. I’m pretty sure this is not the hall that leads to my History of Magic class—again, I can’t seem to stop thinking I’ll run into the ghostly Professor Binns. Yes, another Harry Potter reference—but I’m hoping it will dump me back out somewhere familiar.
I pass a few professors in their flowing robes, and a few also-late-for-class students in their mix of modern get-up and more traditional clothes. They talk in low voices and walk slowly. If they don’t care they are late, then I’m probably okay.
At least being alone gives me time to think for the first time since…well, since I found out about the Fae. Was it really only a few hours ago that my world changed so suddenly? When I woke up this morning, I was supposed to be graduating high school, and had planned on telling Mom about my acceptance letters. Now, I’m a half-Fae student at a school for magical beings, who is learning to control her fire powers.
How is this even real?
No wonder Mom didn’t tell me about any of this. Ugh! I go back and forth between being mad at her and completely understanding where she must have been coming from. I still wish she’d told me sooner…but would I have believed her?
And what about Cassie? Could I possibly tell her about this? She’d think I’m crazy! Or maybe she’ll know exactly what I should do. Cassie is the one person who has been there for every upside-down development in my life. Maybe this won’t seem so weird coming from me.
I pull out my phone to text her, just to let her know I’m at my new location, but my phone is dead. I’ll need to charge it when Dannika shows me where our room is.
First, though, I need to find her. And to do that, I need to get to class.
I’m not too proud to admit my pride is what got me into this mess. I wanted to prove I hadn’t needed Erick to find my class. But it appears I was wrong about that. I couldn’t even re-find it without him.
Maybe I should have just said thank you to Erick and stayed put. Sure, he’s a jerk, but Coach Thorne wouldn’t have made him “protector of the half-Fae” or whatever without reason. And I did almost blow myself up. Caleb, too.
Too late now. I’ve set myself up as someone who doesn’t need Erick’s help, and I’ll have to commit to that, no matter how many times I blow myself up.
I come to a long hallway lined with large oil paintings that almost look familiar. Had I passed these before when Erick led me to class? Taking a closer look, I’m surprised when I come across a painting of Damon.
“Damon Clawfire,” I whisper as I read his name aloud from the plaque below the painting.
He doesn’t look the same. He looks younger, dressed in the long robes of the others and nearly smiling. What happened in his life to make him the more grizzled man who was waiting for me when I crossed the Shadow Veil?
At the very end of the hallway are paintings of two women. One, a beautiful, elegant woman with her head held high and bright red hair, with Anya Shadowburn, Headmistress engraved on a plaque under her painting.
She must be the school’s principal. She sort of reminds me of Queen Elizabeth in that famous painting where she has a serene look on her face as the Spanish Armada is totally destroyed by the British navy in the background. Now that was a woman who didn’t take crap from anyone. And I don’t think Miss Shadowburn will, either.
The painting next to her is of a rather plain-looking woman of about middle age. “Sarah Shadowburn,” I read.
Must be a relation, but they don’t look anything alike. In fact, I wonder why Sarah looks older than pretty much everyone else. Are Fae immortal? Am I immortal? Could she be a human? Maybe a half-human sister of Anya? If it’s that common for Fae to have children with humans, I bet a lot of ful
l Fae have half-human siblings. I’ll have to ask around about this later. Probably an interesting story there.
When I turn to head back down the hall, something smacks right into my face.
“Ouch,” I exclaim as I rub my nose.
“Ouch!” a tiny voice repeats from somewhere below. I look down, and on the ground by my feet is a miniature pink faerie. Like, the Tinker Bell variety. So, a pixie, I guess.
I lean down to get a closer look. That must have seemed like a long fall for someone so tiny. “Hey. Are you okay?”
The little pixie is rubbing her head. “Yeah…”
I hear footsteps coming my way. The pixie is suddenly more alert. She flits up into the air, and flies straight toward me.
“Ach! Ya dinna see me! Ya ken?” she says in a light Scottish accent before landing on my shoulder and burrowing into my hair.
I freeze. “What?” Why is she hiding…in my hair, no less?
A man yells at me from down the hall. “Hey! You see a pixie fly through here?”
“Um, no…” I draw the word out uncertainly. I don’t want to lie, but it’s pretty clear by the way she’s yanking my hair that she doesn’t want me to say I have.
He grunts angrily before storming off.
“He’s gone,” I whisper.
The pixie untangles herself, pulling my hair as she does so. I wince, but stand still.
When she flies to hover in front of my face, she lets out a breath. “Thank ye kindly. Ye really saved mah butt,” she says.
“No problem,” I reply. “Are you in some sort of trouble?”
She laughs, a light tinkling sound. “Never. But I cause enough. I was distracting him while mah mates raid the kitchen.”
Uh-oh. I probably shouldn’t have helped her. But I’m too fascinated to worry about that now.
“I’ve never met a real pixie before,” I say. Remembering my encounters with the dragonettes and Aquilla, I make sure to ask, “Can I get a closer look at you?”
“For certain,” she says. She lands on my hand, not protesting when I slowly raise it to pull her closer to my face. She’s lovely with gossamer wings, pointy ears, and long eyebrows that extend like moth antennae.
“Are you from Scotland?” I ask.
“We are from here,” she says. “Pixies are wee Fae folk. But my family has a special fondness for Caledonia. Ya ken?”
“Not really.” I shrug, causing her to flutter off my hand with the movement. “I just found out about the Fae today.”
“Ach! Ya poor dear!” She dips up and down, never stilling. “And yer wandering around all alone?”
“I’m kind of lost. I’m looking for my magic history class…”
“Dinna fash!” she says, waving away my concern. “I’ll show ye where it is.”
“Thanks!” Maybe inadvertently helping her and her friends raid the kitchen was a good idea after all. I’d finally met someone without invoking a serious faux pas. “I’m Imogen.”
“I’m Driftblossom,” she says with a wink before flying off down the hall.
It’s actually not very far to the classroom, so we get there quickly. I peek through the door, seeing the professor lecturing at the front of the room. There is no other door that I can see, so the only way to get to Dannika in the third row—who’s looking very nervous and probably wondering what happened to me—is to walk in front of everyone, making a total scene.
I turn to Driftblossom. “Thanks so much for your help.”
“Mah pleasure.” Her voice is high pitched, but clear. She looks mischievous, but kind. “I hope we meet again.”
“Me too.”
I watch her flit off down the hall before I take a deep breath and open the door. The room goes totally silent at my entrance, all eyes on me as I walk to the empty seat next to Dannika. I keep my head high and my eyes straight ahead, pretending not to notice, but my stomach is rolling with nervous butterflies.
“Thank you for finally joining us, Miss Flareburn,” the professor dryly intones.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” I say. “Please go on.”
“Certainly,” he replies. “Class, you are dismissed.”
Everyone laughs as they pick up their stuff and head for the door. I rub my forehead, feeling like an idiot.
“Headache?” Dannika asks.
“I wish,” I reply. “I don’t think I can take much more embarrassment today.”
“Don’t worry.” She pulls me from my chair, sympathy written all over her face. “I won’t leave your side again.”
Our next class is Fae History, which is kind of interesting since it talks about all the various kinds of Fae and where they originated. I plan to skip ahead to the chapter about pixies when I have some free time to read later. But it’s not until we hit Fae Court Politics that my interest is truly piqued.
I was never interested in politics back in my world—realm, whatever—since I wasn’t old enough to vote yet, and I doubt Mom was with us moving so much. But this class catches my attention. The drama of the Fae realm is much more interesting than the human one. There seems to be a lot of tension between the Seelie and Unseelie courts, and while it’s not explicitly stated, it comes across as though Unseelie fae are “dark” and Seelie fae are “light.” Evil, versus good.
But that doesn’t seem right to me. The school has students and students from both courts, and I certainly haven’t noticed anything evil from anyone here.
Our teacher, Professor Silvers, is halfway through the class before she realizes she hasn’t handed out our textbooks. She doesn’t look old enough to be forgetful, even if she does have shiny silver hair, so I chalk her forgetfulness up to how passionate she is about the topic. She talks with her hands and is continuously in motion, absently pacing from one side of the room to the other.
“Can you imagine?” she exclaims at one point. “Two siblings who grew up so close, now bitter enemies as the younger brother strikes out to form his own court. It’s practically treason!”
And I’m practically on the edge of my seat.
“But the elder brother, being wiser, lets his brother go,” Professor Silvers explains.
From right behind me, I hear a snort. Shifting slightly in my seat to see who it is, I see Caleb, his face disbelieving.
“Wiser, my ass,” he whispers.
I want to ask more, but don’t want to interrupt the professor. She’s talking about how the courts divided. Apparently Faerie wasn’t always divided into two courts. It had just been the Seelie…until one Seelie did something so horrible that his own brother kicked him out, naming him and his followers as Unseelie. A lot of bad had been done in retaliation since then.
When I turn back, Dannika leans over and whispers, “Caleb’s an Unseelie prince.”
I remember hearing her was a prince…but Unseelie? Really?
“Even though many members demanded the Seelie king go to war,” Professor Silvers continues, “to force the Unseelie king to submit, he refused.
“But that was only the beginning. Many people still see the Seelie king as weak. Now there are many factions even within the two courts. And there are additional factions by element, and by race, with many of the lesser Fae forming their own courts, while some want to withdraw from the Fae realm altogether.”
Damn, it’s like Game of Thrones.
It’s the first day of class, so she’s just giving a general overview of what’s to come in our lessons. Apparently, the Seelie are called the court of spring and summer while the Unseelie are the court of autumn and winter. The Seelie are also considered the court of light while the Unseelie is the court of darkness. The Seelie court is considered “good” and the Unseelie “evil,” but these are incorrect assumptions usually contained in the world of literature. It makes for good storytelling, but has little basis on actual facts. At least, that’s what Professor Silvers says, but I’m not sure she believes it. Whenever she speaks of the Unseelie court, there’s always a negative connotation behind it.
There is apparently a long history of feuds between the various factions of the two courts. It’s surprising to me that Callador exists, a place where people from both courts have come together. It makes me want to learn even more about Headmistress Shadowburn.
Humans are mentioned a few times, as are the “lesser Fae,” but I think she means the “wee folk” that Driftblossom spoke of—Fae who are physically small like dwarves and pixies. Professor Silvers intimates that Fae are superior to humans, the wee folk, and others I haven’t identified yet, but I don’t see anything about the Fae to support that belief. They fight and kill just like any other group of people. Lie, too, despite human legends that float around indicating otherwise. I bite my tongue, of course. I don’t need to step on any more toes.
As we walk out of class, I summon up all my courage and talk to Caleb.
“Hey,” I say. “I’m really sorry about, you know, blowing you up earlier.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He laughs, flashing me that smile. “I’m tougher than I look.”
“Oh, you look plenty tough,” I say, since my brain is too dumb to come up with a less cheesy reply. “Um…what I mean is that I was interested in what you had to say about the Seelie and Unseelie kings. I’d really like to hear more about your opinion on the subject.”
That’s rule one of the flirt handbook, right? Show interest in the things your crush is interested in. I’d read it in some magazine growing up. When people move a lot, they have lots of time for magazines, but not a lot of time for crushes. Not that I’m crushing. And I really am interested in this topic.
“Sure thing,” he says. “Most people around here don’t care about the truth when it comes to the Unseelie Court.”
He’s talking to me, but his eyes drift over my shoulder. I follow his gaze directly to Erick. Erick just shakes his head when he sees me. Not sure what a third-year student is doing in this class, but that’s not my problem.
“Well,” I say, turning back. “I’m not like most people.”
“We can meet up later,” Caleb says. “I have to get to practice for now.”
