by Kirah Nyx
Ivy glanced at the clock made of leaves and branches on the wall. The snake in the clock wrapped around the number eleven.
“It’s late,” she said and rose from her chair. “I have to go to the library. I’ll see you back at the dorm.”
The girls waved their goodbyes and River inclined his head. Ivy grabbed her bag and walked out of the Assembly Hall, but as she made her way, she passed the ‘popular’ table where her brother and Samael sat. Strangely, Noah wasn’t at the table, but he’d been in Arcane History with them. Maybe he was the one out in the woods, hunting Banshees, she wondered.
Now that she thought about it, Felix had been hunting Banshees regularly. It wasn’t a favourite sport of his, so why he would hunt them so often was curious to Ivy.
Samael stared at her and made no move to hide it, but Felix looked straight at the table she had just been at. She glanced over her shoulder and saw River stare right back at her brother with a challenging glint in his amber eyes. The two held their fierce gazes. Ivy noticed her brother’s jaw tightened. He only did that when supressing the urge to rip rooms to shreds.
She decided their dislike for one another, while odd, wasn’t her problem, and left without a backwards glance.
*
Ivy slumped over the desk in the library. The side of her relaxed face was squished against the delicate pages of a rare tome. Drool trickled out of her parted lips, and her snores rippled out through the quiet aisles. The moonlight reflected off the sheer paleness of the sleeping Vampire bowed over the desk. Anything but a pretty sleeper, Ivy murmured and snored loudly, and her assignments went ignored. Frequently, her nose crinkled and her brows furrowed, her feet fidgeted and her fangs extended. Images of overflowing pitchers of blood invaded her dreams, and stirred her hunger.
Ivy sat on a fluffy turquoise rug, in the opulent splendour of beauty that was her bedroom at the Skylar château. Foxy, her rebellious familiar, rolled around on the rug next to her folded legs.
Ivy gripped onto a massive golden jug of strawberry blood and chugged it down, stopping only to burp or hiccup. She was so absorbed with the metallic and fruity flavour of the liquid that she didn’t notice it dribble down her chin, chest, torso, and onto the rug beneath her. Glugs and gulps chugged out, but she didn’t mind and drank until her heart — or hunger — was content.
Strangely, her bedroom began to darken. The lights dimmed and nightfall swiftly arrived. No longer did the sun brighten her bedroom, but the moonlight instead. The moon was visible through the double glass doors in her room, which led to the private, marble balcony outside. She had a sudden urge to go out there.
She dropped the half-empty jug of blood onto the rug, and found herself standing.
Foxy was nowhere to be seen and the jugs of blood had disappeared. She didn’t notice, and ambled over to the glass doors across the room. When she reached the doors, her hands automatically gripped both handles and she dreamily pulled them open to reveal the balcony.
But there was no balcony—there was only a forest, much like the one which surrounded the Academy grounds: The Blood Forest.
Ivy saw them before she even felt the soil between her toes. Two piercing yellow eyes appeared in the shadow of the trees. Their glow captivated her instantly. They drew her in, silently calling to her. She strolled closer to the yellow eyes, in somewhat of a trance; her legs tugged nearer, not of her own accord.
A brewing pit of dread coiled in the pit of her tummy. She drew nearer the eyes, but no matter how far she walked, she never quite reached the lemon spheres. They seemed to retreat with every step she took. Until, she could no longer see them at all. Ivy looked around. Trees stood tall, leaves hung from stiff branches. She was in a clearing, a field she hadn’t seen before. Ivy was stranded in the middle of the woods.
She froze. The hairs on her arms prickled. The winds carried a savage howl to her. The eyes reappeared. They sped closer to the field. It was coming for her; the beast, bounding, snarling, drooling.
Ivy shrieked. She couldn’t move—she couldn’t run. The soil sucked in her feet and toes. She could only stand there and scream. The sounds of heavy paws bounding on the grass replaced the noise of the howl. A massive, huge, terrifying, monstrous wolf came into view.
It charged at her. Saliva seeped from its pointed teeth. Blood stained its skeletal and skinless body. Flesh and guts tangled around its bones. Its yellow eyes gleamed with murderous fury.
It lunged at her. Sharp claws reached out, ready to tear her apart—
A hand gripped her shoulder and shook her harshly.
A sharp cry tore through her, and she frantically scrambled off the chair. Ivy landed on the floor with a grunt, her chest heaving with exertion. Adrenaline pumped through her icy veins, and pure terror shone in her glassy, white eyes. Reality crashed down on her. Trees became shelves, leaves became books.
“Must’ve been some dream.”
Ivy yelped. She sprung to her feet and whipped around. The intruder stood behind her toppled chair; hands in his pockets, eyebrows raised, lips quirked at the corner.
“Bloody night!” Ivy shrilled, and leaned back against the desk. She placed hand on her pounding heart. “You scared the hell out of me, Domenic!”
“Apologies,” he laughed. “I suspected you were having an unpleasant dream. You were groaning and squirming around. Perhaps I should’ve woken you another way.”
Rubbing her shaky hands over her puffy face, Ivy ignored his insincere apology. She suspected that he gained great amusement from her theatrics.
Ivy sighed, and dropped her hands to her sides. “Looking for more books that you could easily find in the crypts?”
Domenic grinned and reclined against the bookshelf behind him. He crossed his ankles together and employed a relaxed stance. “Actually, I was hoping to see you. Did you know you snore?”
“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” Ivy said.
She grabbed her bag and turned her back on him. She gathered all her school books and supplies, and stuffed them into her bag. Domenic pushed himself from the shelf and helped her, but sneaked a peek at her collection of library books as he did so.
“I wasn’t aware that Vampires could do that, you know,” he said interestedly, and handed her a notepad. “Snoring seem so … normal.” Ivy glanced up at him from beneath her long lashes, and gave him a questioning look. “No offence,” he added with a charming wink.
“None taken,” she lied, and zipped up her bag. She swung it over her shoulder and met his studious gaze. “Why were you looking for me?”
“I wasn’t,” he said. “I was only hoping to encounter you, but I wasn’t necessarily seeking you out.”
“You came to the same spot of the library where you saw me last week, and had the intention of seeing me,” smirked Ivy. “That’s actively looking for me.”
His lips spread into a devilish grin. “I’ve been found out. Unfortunately, it seems you are leaving me all alone here, after I spent all that time and effort accidentally encountering you.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Ivy pointed out. “Why?”
“Maybe I enjoyed your company,” Domenic shrugged. “Or I wanted to see you again. Only the Gods know why.”
“Why wait weeks, then?” she asked lightly. She hoped her genuine curiosity didn’t betray her. She had made a point of visiting the same spot in the library each night in hopes of seeing Domenic again, but she didn’t want him to know that. She didn’t know him well, but she suspected that if his head got any bigger, he wouldn’t be able to fit through a doorway.
“A test of my will power,” he smirked. “I failed.”
A small smile graced her pink lips and a blush crept up her cheeks. Flickering her gaze, she glanced at the window and she saw that nightfall was well and truly upon them. As she had a spirit magic lesson at the crack of dawn, she needed a proper sleep in a proper bed, not a library desk.
“I have to go,” she admitted sadly. “Walk me to the den?”
Fleetingly, his jaw clenched as though he would prefer to deny her request. The expression was gone before she could be sure. Approaching her, he smirked, took her bag and draped it over his shoulder. “It would be my pleasure.”
They made their way through the rows of shelves in the library.
“What was your dream about?”
“Nothing nice.” A jug of scrumptious blood flashed in her mind. “Well,” she added, “it started off nice, but it turned into a nightmare.”
“Care to enlighten me?” asked Domenic as they exited the library labyrinth and entered the cold corridors.
“I was dreaming about blood.”
“As you do,” he smirked, and glanced down at her as they strolled through the corridors. They passed two Fae snogging in an alcove, but didn’t pay them any mind.
Ivy elaborated, “I was drinking this huge jug of blood. My favourite flavour, strawberry.” Domenic hummed neutrally, but his nose briefly scrunched up in disgust. “My Familiar was with me. We were in my bedroom.”
“What is your Familiar?”
“She’s a Kitsune,” she said. “A miniature fox with three tails and breathes fire.”
“I know what a Kitsune is, thank you,” Domenic laughed as they descended the stairs to the main foyer. They veered left and stepped up the opposite staircases that led to the west wing.
“She’s not very friendly,” said Ivy. “She attacks everyone else’s Familiars. A few years ago, she almost burned down the dorms because she saw a purple cat. She didn’t like that at all. That’s why I don’t have her with me. It makes my Bonding with Your Familiar classes a bit weird. The teacher always gives me a replacement Familiar, usually a swamp-toad or a pixie. It kind of defeats the purpose, don’t you think?”
“I do,” he nodded. “And she is the reason for your troubled sleep?”
“I wish,” she scoffed. “So, I was dreaming about that, and then I went to the balcony in my bedroom. But when I went out onto the balcony it turned into a forest. I saw something.”
“Trees?”
“No,” she laughed. He flashed her a grin. “I saw eyes. Big, yellow eyes. I think it was a Shifter. But, in the form of a Shifter. Only, the body … It didn’t have any skin or fur. I could see its bones and guts and blood. Then, it came after me,” she finished lamely. “That’s when you woke me up.”
They climbed the stream of U-shaped staircases, separated by the wide landings. “It was only a dream, a manifestation of your subconscious. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve recently been discussing the rebellion. Learning about them in class, perhaps.”
She nodded. “We had a lesson on them in Vampire History.”
“Well, there you have it.”
Though his explanation was perfectly logical, Ivy chewed her bottom lip unsurely. They reached the top of the staircase and entered the den foyer. A thought struck her as he handed her the leather bag.
“There’s something else,” she said. “The first night back at school, I was in my dorm. There’s this window that looks directly onto the forest border, near the Fae grottos. I … I could’ve sworn I saw something that night.”
He cocked his head to the side and leaned against the bannister. “What did you see?”
“Two eyes. The same eyes from my dream. I didn’t think much of it, because when I turned off the lights and went back to the window they were gone. And last week … I thought I heard a growl in the main foyer. I forgot about it, and nothing else happened. But now, with the dream and—”
“I’ll stop you right there,” Domenic said, and stepped toward her.
She looked up at him unsurely, and waited for the accusations of her insanity.
“If there were any Shifters lurking around the grounds, the Videer would know about it. Not only are we heavily Knighted, the wards are impenetrable. You probably saw a few Fae mucking around in the forest. You know what they’re like. I wouldn’t be surprised if they tricked the light to scare you. And given everything you’ve been studying about Shifters, and what you think you saw, your mind has subconsciously merged it together and created a nightmare.” He smiled reassuringly at her. A wave of relief washed over her muscles; he didn’t think she was daft. “There’s no need to be worried, Sky.” Her stomach flipped. “The Academy is safe. You are safe.”
“Sky?” she repeated. Flutters swirled around her tummy. “No one’s ever called me that before.”
Domenic smirked. “Ivory is the colour of your skin. Ivy is a poisonous weed of nature. But the sky is eternal, bright and dark, warm and stormy, precarious, yet beautiful.” Ivy’s face burned red and she smiled awkwardly. He stepped closer and whispered silkily, “Not to mention the obvious. Your last name is Skylar.”
Ivy slitted her eyes. The flush drained from her cheeks like water down sink.
Domenic laughed and raised his hand to cup her pink cheek. His tone softened as he said, “Blood starvation can have these kinds of side-effects. I guarantee you have nothing to worry about.”
“Promise?”
“I swear on my vows,” he replied, dropping his hand to his side. Her cheek tingled. She glanced down at his hand and deflated. Ink stained his thumb. A cringe assaulted her—she’d been walking around with glittery purple ink on her face.
Through the embarrassment, she couldn’t deny that he had reassured her. After all, he was a Videer, and consequently possessed insider knowledge that she did not. His words were worth their weight in blood.
Faint footsteps thudded down the adjacent corridor, and neared the pair in the lobby. Ivy took a step back from the Videer; she knew how her company would appear to any other Vampire that would see.
Videer were openly disliked among the Vampires, and she didn’t wish to endure any backlash for befriending one. Domenic noticed her slight retreat, and his eyes darkened ever so slightly.
“I should go,” she said with a tight smile. “I’ll see you around.”
Domenic nodded once and watched her scurry through the lobby toward the chamber door, where she disappeared into the den.
Hiking up the iron spiral staircase, Ivy smiled sweetly to herself. Who knew that a boy could make someone feel so light and giddy? Ivy hadn’t. For the first time in her life, she felt a pleasant fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t nerves, that much she knew. It was butterflies. Not real butterflies, of course, but the kind that makes one want to dance and burst out in song. The nice kind.
Ivy reached the second exit on the spiral stairs. Hand on the metal railing, she swung merrily around the exit, into the landing. But she stopped in her tracks, between the staircase and pillar, as she heard Felix’s hushed voice slither out.
“I caught three,” he said. “The second one was balding, so there isn’t much hair. The other two lots should make up for that.”
“It’s not enough,” replied a sharp voice. Ivy would recognise the cold indifference anywhere. She would distinguish the iciness from the winter winds in the Alps. It was Samael. “We need a hundred times more than what we’ve collected thus far. Not to mention—”
He stopped speaking. Ivy bit her lip and pressed her back against the pillar. Footsteps approached, gently thudding closer to her.
“Ivy,” sang Felix, his voice louder and closer than before. “I can smell you, little sis.”
Cursing inwardly, Ivy scowled and slunk around the wooden column. “Hey,” she greeted casually. Or, at least she tried to be casual, but failed.
Behind Felix, Samael stared stonily at her, holding drapes of Banshee hair in his hand.
“What’s that for?” she asked, inclining her head at the Banshee hair.
“It’s for a lovely pair of silver curtains,” said Felix with a soft smile.
“Curtains?” repeated curiously.
“Yes. We’ve taken up weaving as a practical hobby. Didn’t you know?”
Ivy shot him a blank look. “Ha. Ha,” she droned dully.
“Goodnight,” hinted Felix, stepping to the s
ide. Ivy sneered at him before she stormed down the corridor. She made extra sure to sniff haughtily as she passed Samael.
Whatever they were up to was certainly not her problem or business. Yet, that didn’t stop Ivy pondering great theories as she went to her dorm.
Collecting that much Banshee hair wasn’t normal. Only a few strands were required to store great amounts of magic. So far, she’d seen thousands upon thousands of strands in Felix’s and Samael’s possession.
That was enough Banshee hair to store all the Fae magic at the Academy, including the wards, forest, crypts, and lake, and then some. What on earth were they up to?
All thoughts of the Banshee hair evaporated as she entered the dorm. Welcoming her, was Penny’s incessant sleep talking.
“Bloody night,” grumbled Ivy. She snatched a sock from her nightstand.
Ivy stomped over to Penny and stuffed the sock in her mouth, muffling her mumbling voice. It wasn’t like Penny could suffocate or anything. Vampires could only die by decapitation. And Ivy needed sleep.
7
It had been a busy Saturday for Ivy at the Academy, and she found herself yearning for the night to come. At sunset, the Fae party would begin on the shore of the lake. It was a much-needed break after the stressful day she’d had.
Houseparent Rowena had given the class of Arcane History another pop quiz. Ivy wondered if she got some sick satisfaction from watching her squirm. Thankfully, Samael had let Ivy copy his answers again. For a butthead, he could be amiable at times.
Health class followed Arcane History, shared with the older students again. She’d partnered up with Addie and Penny for their task—dissecting a dead Siren. Grisly business, it was. By the time they’d cut into stomach, Ivy puked onto the Siren’s head. They’d been docked marks for that, much to Addie’s fury. Felix, of course, didn’t miss the opportunity to tease her.
After that dreadful two-hour lesson, Ivy had gone to Politics; the cause for her sullenness that day. It had started when Ivy slumped over her textbook, ‘An Arcane’s Arrangement’, and fiddled with the curling corner of the page.
