by Sophia Shade
“That’s so weird,” I say, sitting up and trying to calculate in my head how old I’ll be in human years when I graduate.
“It can be confusing if you end up being the kind of person who travels between realms a lot,” she says. “But I’m sure your friends won’t forget you in three months.”
I put my dead phone in a drawer. I’m sure Cassie won’t forget me, but she might not forgive me, either. And it still feels weird that I can’t contact my mom. Maybe I’ll have to take up journaling, so I don’t forget the things I want to tell her when I get back.
We get dressed and make our way down to our magic history class, which I’m looking forward to since that was the class I completely missed the day before. As we enter the classroom, though, several of the other students are leaving, and the few who are still there are just standing around talking.
“What’s going on?” Dannika asks Erick.
“No class today,” he says. “Professor Darkshade called in sick.”
“Someone else is sick?” I ask. “Like all those students I saw in the infirmary yesterday?”
“I don’t think it’s related to that,” Erick says. “Adult Fae, people as old and strong as the professors here, they don’t usually get sick without a serious exposure to iron.”
“Iron?” I ask.
“The one weakness we share,” Dannika informs me. “We all have a natural aversion to iron.”
“How did the Fae survive the iron age?” I say as sort of a joke, but Erick and Dannika look at me with all seriousness.
“We nearly didn’t,” Erick says. “The Fae used to inhabit the world of faerie and human equally. But during the Iron Age, many of our kind fled here, and this became our more permanent home.”
I finally ask one of the questions that has been gnawing at me. “Are the Fae immortal?”
“Yes,” Dannika answers. “As are halflings. But we aren’t impervious. We can be killed like anyone else, which makes us a little easier to kill than the full-blooded Fae.”
I can’t tell if my heart is lighter or heavier with this information. What does it mean to me to be immortal? Of course, I’m only eighteen. I haven’t really spent much time thinking about mortality either. I think this is something I’ll need to talk to Mom about.
“Do you think this has anything to do with…” I glance around to make sure no one is listening, and then lower my voice. “What we were talking about last night?”
Erick shakes his head. “There’s no reason to think that. If Professor Darkshade is just ill, or even ill by iron, that doesn’t sound similar to the attacks at Ohdows Hall.”
“It could,” I say. “Maybe with the older Fae, the attacker just needs to be more subtle.”
Erick sighs. “Look, I think I would know—”
“Know what, Erick? Everything? Well, maybe you don’t know everything,” I say. “And would it hurt to investigate? There could be a missing link between the two.”
He rolls his eyes. “When you decide to help us, then I’ll give a damn what you think. Later, Dannika.”
“Later,” she says as he walks away, but then shakes her head. “Damn, that was rude, even for him.”
“I don’t care,” I lie. His coarseness is going from annoying to hurtful. Just because we aren’t friends doesn’t mean we can’t still listen to what the other person has to say. “So, what do we do now?”
“Well, we have an hour to kill before our next class,” she says. “I’ll probably go for a run around the track. Wanna come?”
“Not really,” I hedge, not wanting to hurt her feelings, but me run? Ha! “I’m just going to explore the school a bit more. Try to learn my way around.”
“Okay,” she says. “You remember where our next class is?”
“Yeah, thanks. I think I’ll be okay.”
We say our parting words, but once she’s gone, I decide not to explore the school after all. I know I should, but for some reason, my feet take my back to the dorm instead. I want to find Damon. I have a feeling he might be able to answer some of my questions.
When I get back to the dorm, I find his office on the first floor and knock.
“Come in,” he calls.
When I step in, he’s hunched over some old scrolls, but he quickly rolls them up as I approach his desk.
“Ah, Miss…uh…Flareburn, was it?” he says. “What can I do for you?”
“I thought I would say hi,” I say. “I haven’t seen you since you brought me here.”
He nods, but doesn’t reply.
“Well, that’s not exactly true,” I continue. “I saw a painting of you, down a long hallway. It’s how I learned your last name.”
“That so?” he asks.
“Yeah. So I guess you are the mentor of us fire Fae or something?”
“Something like that.”
“So…” Jeez, why is he making this so awkward? “I just had some questions, and thought you might be able to answer them.” I nervously take a seat in a chair by the door.
He tucks his rolled-up scrolls into his desk drawer, and folds his hands in from of him. “All right. I’ll do my best.”
“Do you think the student illnesses and Professor Darkshade being sick are related?”
Hs expression stills, his face a stony, unreadable mask. “Now, why would you be wondering about that?”
I shrug. “Just seems weird is all. I mean, Fae are supposed to be superior to humans, but they sure seem to get sick easily.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” he says. “Just some flu going around. Be sure to get plenty of vitamin C.”
“Vitamin C? Really?” I stare him down. I’m not taking his placating suggestions that easily. “Are the illnesses related to the attacks at Ohdows?”
“How do you know about that?” he asks, leaning toward me.
“Some of the other students have expressed concerns,” I say. “I think there might be a connection, but no one will listen to me because I’m new.”
He stands up and opens the door. “And right they are,” he says. “You know nothing of our world. So you’d be better off keeping your nose out of where it doesn’t belong.”
I stand, but don’t move toward the exit. “But my nose does belong here, doesn’t it? I belong here, don’t I?”
“What I meant was—”
“And whose fault is it I don’t know anything, anyway?” I ask, taking a step toward him. “I just got here, and I’m here to learn, right? Whose responsibility is that? You’re my mentor, aren’t you? So shouldn’t you be teaching me?”
Damon waves his hand, motioning me to walk through the door. I do, but I don’t leave his presence.
“That’s what your classes are for,” he says. “So you better get going.”
“I’d be in class now if the professors weren’t dropping like flies,” I snap. “Why won’t you answer my questions?”
“Because you won’t like the answers,” he says.
Then the door slams in my face.
Nine
I spend the next few weeks getting to know the school better. Oddly enough, the Elemental Application class ends up being one of my favorites.
“Some of you have some experience using your powers,” Coach Thorne says that first day I’m back. “While many of you have never used them at all. All of you will need to prove yourself at the end of the year, so we better get started. This class will focus on control more than use. We don’t want any…unfortunate accidents.”
He says that last part while looking at me with a wry smile. Everyone laughs good-naturedly, and I join in.
“Yup, that’s me,” I say. “Walking disaster.”
He walks us through some breathing exercises that are designed to help us remain calm under pressure. I enjoy it because it’s kind of like yoga, which is probably the only thing in this world that I’m at all familiar with.
But after a week, we move on from breathing exercises to controlled movements, and that’s when things start to get m
ore interesting. It’s a lot like Tai Chi—very slow, deliberate motions—which I’d always had an interest in but had never tried before.
It’s not until we start pairing the breathing and movements with our powers, though, that I start to become unsure of myself.
“You want to start small,” Coach Thorne says to me from where he stands in front of me. “You are familiar with the heat and tingling in your fingertips, right?”
“Yes.”
“Try to intentionally bring up this heat and tingling, but no more,” he urges, taking my hands in his.
“Are you sure you want me to do that?” I ask nervously. “Remember last time?”
“You have been practicing your breathing, right?”
I nod.
“Good. Then just breathe, and feel the heat build from your toes, up your legs, your torso, down your arms, and then just hold it in your hands. Then send it back down. Easy.”
“Okay,” I whisper as I take a deep breath.
I summon the heat from the earth through my feet. I breathe again, feeling the heat building in my toes. I will it to move up my legs. So far, so good. Then the heat reaches my belly and…
Whoosh!
Flames shoot out of my hands, knocking Coach Thorne across the field.
“Oh! Shit,” I scream as fire continues shooting out of my hands.
“Stop, Imogen!” Caleb calls out.
“I can’t!”
My arms are on fire. I’m completely panicking. I stop, drop, and roll, just like we are taught in elementary school, but that only sets my clothes on fire. I’m still screaming, completely freaking out.
I feel cold water splash on my face. When I look up, Erick is standing over me with an empty bucket.
“Calm down,” Erick says, rolling his eyes. “You’re a fire element. You aren’t actually going to burn.”
“Sorry,” I mumble. “Humans are taught to be afraid of fire. It was just a reaction.”
“I know.” He holds out his hand, and helps me to my feet. “That’s just something else you will have to overcome.”
I look down the field and see students crowded around Coach Thorne. “Oh jeez,” I say, running toward him. “Are you okay, Coach? I’m really sorry! I don’t know what happened.”
He is covered in soot and his hair is a mess, but he seems uninjured. “I’m fine, Imogen. It was my fault, I suppose. You just aren’t ready to move on yet. That’s fine.” He timidly reaches out, and pats my shoulder. “We all move at our own pace. For now, how about you keep working on your motions while I help the other students?”
The other students line up, and I stand in the back and smash my emotions down because I will not allow myself to cry.
A few weeks later, I find myself in an office with Damon, Coach Thorne, and the headmistress herself, Lady Shadowburn. She is just as beautiful as her picture, with hair she lets flow freely instead of pinning up. When I walk in, she’s standing and staring out a window, twirling a ring around her finger as if deep in thought.
I clear my throat, and she looks over. She just stares for a moment, but then motions toward a chair. “Take a seat, please.”
I sit in the middle seat, with Damon on one side and Coach Thorne on the other. Lady Shadowburn sits on the chair behind her desk, and the three of us sit in silence as she peruses my file. I notice she has a picture on her desk of herself with the woman who was labeled Sarah Shadowburn. They are holding hands, and both are wearing beautiful dresses, almost like a wedding photo.
No, not almost. Exactly like a wedding photo. I lean in for a closer look.
“Miss Flareburn,” Lady Shadowburn begins, snapping me back to attention. “I am so pleased to see the progress you’ve made in your classes. Professor Silvers says you’ve done exceptionally well in politics.”
“I love her class,” I say, nervously drumming my fingers on my thigh.
She nods, returning her attention to the file, before continuing. “The reason we are here,” she finally says after an uncomfortable silence, “is because you have not made much, if any, improvement in your Elemental Application class.”
“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that, especially to Coach Thorne,” I say. “I just don’t know what’s wrong. I’m applying everything he says, really.”
“Are you getting enough sleep?” she asks. “Are you depressed? Is there something going on that we should know about?”
“No…” I say. “I mean, I can’t think of anything. I like it here. I’m happy. I’ve made friends. I study hard. I want to do well. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Some of my classmates have offered tips, and I’ve tried to apply them, but I don’t know. When the fire comes out of me, it’s just always out of control.”
Coach Thorne shifts in his seat, and crosses his arms. “In some ways,” he says to Lady Shadowburn, “I think it might be getting worse, not better. She knows she isn’t doing well. So her stress and fear of failure is causing her to lose even more control.”
Lady Shadowburn purses her lips. “I can understand that. Fear of failure can undermine even the most determined student.”
“Does it really matter?” I ask. “Not that I don’t think the class is important, but I’m just not good at it. Lots of kids fail PE. No one has gotten hurt, not really. I mean, as fire Fae, the fire doesn’t hurt us. And like you said, I’m doing well in my other classes. Can’t we just write this off as a personal weakness and move on?”
Of course, I don’t want to fail, but we all have our strengths and weaknesses. It might be disappointing, but I can live with not being able to control fire. It still kind of scares me anyway. I’m sure I have other strengths I can develop instead.
“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple,” Lady Shadowburn explains. “You see, our elements are the core of who we are. It’s not a part of ourselves we can just ignore or extinguish. And what happens when you’re back in the human realm?”
I freeze. I hadn’t thought about that.
“You do want to be able to go back, don’t you?”
“Are you saying—”
“Imogen,” she says, as if saying my name will calm me. “You’ve seen what happens when you can’t control it. The explosions and such. Sure, no one in your fire community has been injured. But what about if a water or an earth Fae was present? Or what if you go back into the human world and can’t control yourself?”
She’s right. And I really can’t not go back home. That’s simply not an option.
“If you can’t control your powers, Imogen,” she continues, “we will have no choice but to bind your powers and expel you from the school.”
“Wait, what?” I hadn’t seen that coming. That just…went in a totally different direction than I expected. “Is that really necessary? Expelled like forever? That’s so not fair!” I exclaim hotly. “I can’t control it. I didn’t ask for any of this!”
Lady Shadowburn holds up her hand. “I know, dear. I know this is hard and that you aren’t willfully ignoring your studies.” She turns to Damon. “Mr. Clawfire, you are the mentor for Pyralis Hall. What is your recommendation?”
“I think she should have been bound and banned already,” he says callously, and I gasp. “She’s wild, uncontrollable.”
“I’m not wild.” My hands ball into fists, but I try to keep my irritation from reaching my voice. “The fire is wild, not me.”
“She’s dangerous. To this school and herself.”
“What is your problem, dude?” I ask, standing up and facing him. “What kind of crappy mentor are you?”
“That’s enough, Imogen,” Lady Shadowburn says, slamming her hand down on the table. But then she turns to Damon. “Though, I must agree with her sentiment. As the fire Fae mentor, Mr. Clawfire, what else would you recommend? Having her bound and banned is a very, very last resort. One I would like to avoid. What other steps can she take in the meantime to improve?”
Damon sighs as though doing his job is some great burden. What an ass!
/> “Practice,” he says. “That’s all she can do. She can’t learn to control it by reading books or not using her powers. She has to use them. But I’m sure Drake here would prefer not being blown up even more often.”
Coach Thorne chuckles a bit. “Yes, well, that is a rather unfortunate side effect of the job. Though it has been many, many years since I have had a student need this much assistance. I can give her some help outside of class, but not the amount she needs. She needs a private tutor. One who can give her daily sessions. And someone powerful enough that she won’t hurt them.”
“Do you have someone in mind?” Lady Shadowburn asks.
Coach Thorne chews at his lip as he nods. “Erick Greyspark. He’s one of my best students. He already assists me with the lower classmen. He would be my choice.”
“So…not Caleb?” I ask.
They all look at me curiously, and Lady Shadowburn crooks an eyebrow.
“I just mean that Caleb was the first person to help me wake up my powers. Erick has been…less willing to help me in the past.”
“I see,” Lady Shadowburn says slowly. “Well, Caleb Darkflame has enough on his plate. I think Erick would be a better candidate, if he’s willing. We can’t force him to offer tutoring on his own time. Should I call him in?”
“No,” I say. I do not want him to make me look even worse in front of these people who hold my future in their hands, especially if he refuses. “I’ll talk to him.”
Reluctantly, I make my way to the kilcross field where I know Erick is practicing. I sit in the bleachers, watching as he catches the ball and basically parkours over other players. He gets close to the goal, but another student blocks his path. I expect him to perform some sort of Hail Mary to get the goal, but instead he feints and passes the ball to a teammate, who then makes the goal. Everyone watching the practice claps. I have to admit, he’s a team player.