by Maria Amor
“Dean Dimitrios wouldn’t listen to me,” Orla replied. “He gave me detention—and he’s going to notify my parents in Faerie.” Julia pressed her lips together. The detention wasn’t much; it was annoying, but it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to a student. But the note home—especially to Orla’s proud parents—was another matter.
“You swear to me you didn’t even touch the guy’s stuff, ever?” Orla nodded.
“I couldn’t have gotten into an earth-aligned boy’s dorm room if I had even wanted to,” she pointed out. “And they found the thing he said he’d lost in his room. It wasn’t even hidden, or under anything.” Julia’s heart started beating faster; if what Orla was saying was true, then the gnome had made up the story simply to get Orla in trouble—and she was in deep trouble at that.
“I could write a letter to your parents, I guess?” Julia racked her mind to try and find something that she could do to justify the girl coming to her for help. In spite of being more than 180 years older than her, Orla was still young—at least amongst her own kind. Fae lived for hundreds of years; they sent their children to schools like Sandrine to get them ready for lives spent between the two worlds they had access to, for careers in family, fae-run businesses.
“I’ll see if my grandmother can do anything about it, or anyone else I’ve met recently.” Julia didn’t have much faith in that, but it wasn’t right that the dean could get a student in trouble with her parents over nothing. “Why did you come to me specifically?” Orla looked around the room; none of Julia’s roommates was in for the night as yet.
“Mairi said that your grandmother was more important than anyone at Sandrine realized,” Orla explained. Mairi was an undine—so she would likely be in the know, although sworn to secrecy. “And she said that since you’re going to become the most powerful air Guardian in the country, if not the world, you’d have to be able to do something.”
Julia’s eyes widened; she hadn’t considered that aspect of her burgeoning abilities and status. “I don’t know that I’m going to become that powerful,” Julia cautioned the girl. “But my grandmother is kind of an important person, and maybe she can help somehow.” She patted Orla’s hand. “Do you think a letter from me would even help?” Orla considered.
“It might,” she said. “Whatever you can do, please.” Julia nodded and gave Orla’s hands a squeeze. All at once, the fae girl frowned, and Julia worried—briefly—that she’d hurt her. But that was impossible—fae were much tougher than normal humans.
Before she could ask the girl what was wrong, the restless energy flowing through Julia began to surge, and she gasped, feeling the electric crackling of it through her body. Orla held onto her hands tightly, and Julia lost herself in the power that flowed into every cell of her, lighting her up more brightly than even the fae in the room with her. She cried out as the sensation of incredible power intensified, so much so that it was almost painful. Julia could feel the wind outside somehow, as if it was blowing through her, as if she was in it—and she could hear it howling as the spasm built up.
Julia didn’t know what Orla was doing, but she wished again—in the part of her mind that was capable of rational thought—that Dylan was there. Not to calm the faerie, but to help her through the incredible sensations that tingled and burned and froze every nerve, that she couldn’t resist even if she had been capable of marshalling her thoughts enough to try.
Wave after wave of energy flowed through her, pleasant and acutely painful all at once, and Julia could do nothing but give herself up to it, let it happen, as the wind outside rattled the windows, shaking them enough to almost crash them into the room. Julia was somehow both completely aware of the wind’s action and too far gone to be able to focus on it.
The energy reached a peak, and Julia writhed in her bed, ignoring everything but the sensations coursing through her. She buried her face against her pillows, shaking and trembling as she attempted to allow the power to flow through her without impediment, without fighting it. For a few moments, Julia was almost certain that she was going to die, that the force of the energy surging through her would explode her body, dissolve it into so many pieces that what was left of her wouldn’t be fit for a casket.
Then, all at once, it began to slack off, and Julia panted for breath, trembling as the aftershocks coursed through her even as the main force of the energy faded. As she came back to herself and regained control of her mind and body, Julia realized that Orla was still there, and even still seated on the bed next to her. The fae’s hands were on her arms, on her shoulders, soothing her somehow. “Mairi was right,” Orla said quietly.
“What?” Julia turned around and looked up at the fae. Orla gave her a slightly wry smile, showing sharp, white teeth.
“You’re going to be plenty powerful when you come into your abilities,” Orla said. “That wasn’t your first one of these, was it?” Julia shook her head.
“Second one,” she admitted, wondering why she was opening up to the girl. Orla was simultaneously older and younger than she was; it was hard to relate sometimes to the fae students at the school for that very reason.
“Do you want me to go get Dylan?” Julia shook her head again.
“He wouldn’t be able to come in here anyway,” she pointed out. “I’ll slip a note under his door when I’m recovered enough to get up.”
“Here,” Orla said, and Julia heard the girl beginning to whisper in one of the fae languages; it wasn’t one she was fluent in, or even very familiar with—it was the language of old, old magic, magic almost as old as the forces that had created Guardians in the first place.
After a few moments, Julia felt a mild heat flowing over and then through her body, stilling the tremors that shook her, returning some of the normal, physical energy she seemed to have lost in the process of the spasm and surge. As Orla whispered the incantation again, the warmth grew stronger, but never to a burning heat—more like having a perfectly hot heating pad all over her body, easing the ache and soreness in her muscles, down to her bones.
Orla stopped, and the heat faded, leaving behind only relief. Julia smiled, opening her eyes and looking up at the fae girl. “Thank you for that,” she said, reaching out and giving the girl’s hand a squeeze.
“It’s easy to do,” Orla said. The girl half-shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. “I learned it when I was a baby.”
“I appreciate it anyway,” Julia told her. She sat up. “So, you want me to talk to Ruth, and to see if I can get a letter to your parents?” Orla nodded.
“Anything you can do, please,” Orla said. Julia gave the fae’s hand another squeeze to reinforce her promise to try and mitigate the punishment she would face from her parents. The girl returned the squeeze and then pulled back, giving Julia a quick smile before turning to leave her dorm room. Julia realized she’d left her door open, not thinking of being interrupted in the midst of studying; that was how Orla had come in without her noticing.
In spite of what she’d told the fae, Julia wanted—needed—to talk to Dylan. She unplugged her phone from the charging cable and unlocked the screen. Julia found the messaging app and opened up the thread she had going with Dylan; it was the way they spoke when they were in their dorms, where they couldn’t be around each other. I need to talk to you, Julia wrote.
You’re talking to me right now, Dylan replied. Julia rolled her eyes, knowing he was being deliberately obtuse.
I mean, I need to talk to you in person. I just had a surge. She sat up more fully in bed and looked around her room to find her robe. Her phone buzzed once, twice, again, but Julia ignored it as she stood, slipped her robe over her pajamas, and smoothed her hair into a quick bun. She cinched the sash around her waist and finally looked at the screen of her phone, which lit up obediently with the three messages.
You had a surge? Are you okay? Meet me in the hallway NOW. Julia snickered softly to herself and slipped the phone into the pocket of her robe before leaving her dorm room, padding ou
t onto the hallway.
Moments later, she saw Dylan emerge from his end of the hall, dressed in his pajamas as well: his long, blond hair was mussed and tousled, and he’d clearly thrown a tee shirt on to go with the loose cotton pajama pants, while leaving his feet bare to slap slightly against the tile floor as he strode towards her. “What’s going on?”
Julia looked around. “Let’s be a little more private than this,” she suggested. There was the multipurpose room at the end of the hallway; there was a good chance that no one was in it, considering that most of the student population was either in the library, at the dining hall, or in their dorm rooms. She started off in the direction of the room, feeling oddly pleased with herself for having surprised Dylan the way she had.
The multipurpose room was deserted as Julia had hoped. She opened the door and they both stepped into the darkened space; somehow, in spite of the fact that she had been alone with Dylan more than a dozen times in their friendship, and the urgency of what she had to tell him, she felt her heart beating faster in a way that had nothing to do with Orla’s news or the power surge that had prompted her text messages.
She remembered that one of the other air-aligned Guardians, a girl named Lisette, had commented that of all the changes that were happening at Sandrine, Dylan’s return was the one bright spot. It’s not a bright spot, he’s just someone you can talk to about this insanity. If he was Keegan or someone you could trust you’d be just as excited. Julia wasn’t sure that that was actually true, but she wanted it to be true so much that it was almost just as good.
“What’s going on?” The security light in the room came on with a click—it was motion-activated, Julia remembered, and just enough to make sure that no one stumbled over something or hurt themselves in the darkness of the windowless room.
“First things first,” Julia said, pushing aside any question of why she was so happy to be alone with Dylan in favor of the issues at hand. “Orla just came to me, and what she had to say is really, really disturbing.” She explained the fae girl’s news, and what Orla had asked of her, and Dylan’s eyes widened at the situation.
“You’re totally sure she’s telling the truth?” Julia rolled her eyes.
“We’re meeting in the multipurpose room because there’s no way we could have gone to each other’s dorm rooms,” she pointed out blandly. “I’m sure she’s telling the truth. I mean—they found whatever they accused her of stealing right out in the open in the guy’s room.”
“That’s what she says,” Dylan said. “It just...it seems weird that they’d be that obvious about it.”
“I’m going to talk to Ruth about it,” Julia told him firmly. “And I’m going to write the letter.”
“Fine,” Dylan said with a shrug. “I’m more concerned with the power surge.”
“Orla was still in my room when it happened,” Julia said. She shuddered slightly, remembering the whole ordeal. “It was worse than the first one.” Dylan’s eyes widened again.
“How much worse?” Julia shrugged.
“It was bad—I thought I was going to die.” She closed her eyes and shivered. “But Orla used some fae magic to help me get over it.”
“That was nice of her,” Dylan said. “And it helps explain why you’re so willing to trust her.”
“I was willing to trust her before that,” Julia told him firmly. “I just thought you should know about it, and now I’m kind of regretting it.”
“No—no,” Dylan said. He sighed. “Look, can you give me your hands?”
“Why?”
“I can feel your energy if you do, feel—stuff.” Dylan’s lips twisted in a grimace. “Just do it.” Julia raised an eyebrow at that, but did as Dylan asked, holding out her hands for him to take them in his. Dylan’s fingers wrapped around hers, and she felt the cool, soft intrusion of his energy. She closed her eyes, giving into the sensation, and breathed slowly and steadily.
Julia had no idea what Dylan was getting from her in that moment; she knew that many of the water-aligned Guardians had limited intuitive abilities—not quite telepathy, but the ability to sense emotions from other people, along with some clairvoyant dreams, and talents of that nature.
After a few moments, Dylan’s hands released hers, and Julia opened her eyes. “So?”
“Orla’s good at magic,” Dylan said. “But I can feel the change.” He looked at her steadily for a moment. “We need to see your grandmother soon.”
“I’ll send a courier to her tomorrow—I need to anyway,” Julia told him. “We’ll try and get to her this weekend.”
CHAPTER 12
It took another week for Ruth to arrange for Dylan and Julia to come visit her; a week in which Dylan struggled to keep his feelings in check as the entire school—and Julia in particular—seemed to become stranger and stranger. Orla was only the first of the air-aligned creatures at Sandrine to be falsely accused and punished for theft, and after a few days with few repercussions for the accusers, some of the water-aligned students were falsely accused as well, though not as many.
It seemed to Dylan as if almost a quarter of the air-aligned students at Sandrine were under some kind of punishment. He and Julia had both been waiting to see if someone would come after her, or make some kind of noise about his living arrangement. He had been forced to admit that something decidedly off was happening—but he had no idea of what to do about it. Julia’s letter to Orla’s parents, and her letters to some of the other air-aligned creatures who weren’t Guardians, had done some good; but that only made it more likely that the dean would eventually come against her, at least as far as Dylan could see.
As they sat in the car, riding down from Manhattan early in the morning, Dylan pondered the situation. Why hadn’t Dean Dimitrios come after Julia yet? Was it just because of Ruth’s power—or did he not think that Julia was much of a threat, especially since she hadn’t come into her full abilities yet. “How much do you think Ruth knows about what’s going on?” He glanced at Julia, seated on the other end of the back seat, her feet tucked under her legs and her shoes on the floor in front of her.
“I don’t know,” she said, looking at him. Ever since her second power surge, there’d been something different about Julia—something otherworldly, and Dylan wondered if his changes during the transition had changed him so drastically. Her skin had taken on a faint glow that seemed to become more obvious when she spoke to birds, or when she brought the wind up, or came out of one of her air-focused classes; her eyes somehow were more powerfully hazel than ever, peering out from a face that somehow looked more childlike and more mature at the same time. “I’d assume she knows about the water-aligned creatures who have been falsely accused, but there aren’t as many of your people being affected by this as there are of mine.”
“That may just be a matter of time, or convenience,” Dylan pointed out. “Everyone thinks half the air-aligned people are kind of two-faced, so it’s easier to falsely accuse you.” Julia rolled her eyes and glanced out the window.
“If there’s one thing I’m tired of hearing about my own kind, it’s that we’re a bunch of gossipy, backstabbing bitches,” Julia said tartly.
“And if there’s two things?”
Julia’s lips twitched in an involuntary smile. “It’s that, and the notion that we can’t be serious.” She sighed and leaned back in the seat, tilting her head against the cushioned rest.
“I think most people do know that you’re capable of it, it just has to be something you care about,” Dylan said, keeping his tone light—and at the same time trying to make it soothing. “I don’t think anyone could question you being serious about the situation at the school.”
“Do you have a problem with that?” Julia tilted her head again to look at him intently.
“No. Why would I?”
“You accused me of using the weirdness at Sandrine to take attention off of my transition,” Julia pointed out. Dylan cringed.
“I know I said that, and I’m sorry
I said it,” he told her. “Though I have to think that before these most recent things happened, you did have some motivation to not be the star in the freak show.” Julia snorted.
“Maybe a little,” she admitted. “But if that was the case, it isn’t anymore.” Dylan nodded his acceptance of that.
“What do you think Ruth will even be able to do about it?” Julia shrugged.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But she was able to get you a dorm room in the air-aligned quadrant, and she was able to get you into the same classes as me for all but a few of our classes. What point would there be in her being some kind of one-quarter queen if she couldn’t pull something off?”
“It depends on if she’s got any pull with people who have pull with the dean,” Dylan pointed out. “But there’s got to be something she can do.”
Dylan saw that they were approaching the property line for Ruth’s home, and took a slow, steadying breath. Ostensibly, the Regina Undinae wanted not just to find out what her granddaughter had to say, but also to give Dylan another afternoon and evening of training, some refinement in his abilities that would help him continue to work with Julia. The car passed through the gate separating Ruth’s property from the larger world outside of it and Dylan felt the shift in the energy.
Sandrine isn’t the only place where interesting things are happening, he thought, sampling the different pulses. When Julia was fully in possession of her abilities as a Guardian, she would be able to do that too—a little differently, and with a different kind of perception, but it would be there.
“What if she can’t do anything?” Dylan looked at Julia.
“What do you mean?” Julia shrugged.
“What if she can’t do anything about what’s going on at the school? What if all of her influence is just enough to keep our arrangement in place? What do we do then?”
“You’re acting like it’s your responsibility to make sure the school runs properly.” Julia scowled at him.
