Finally Faeling: An Eight Wings Academy Novel: Book Three

by Akeroyd, Serena

  “He’ll be fine,” Josefa replied.

  “He won’t,” I told my mate firmly, glowering at the other woman’s lie.

  Riel rocked her head back against my shoulder and gently pressed into me, letting me know, silently, that she’d heard me and was listening.

  “Fine isn’t enough of a reassurance. We won’t be here long,” she stated firmly.

  That was the first I’d heard about this, but Sol, this was definitely Riel’s show. I was pretty certain none of us had a clue what was going on, but she seemed to have more direction than the rest of us.

  As it stood, we couldn’t return to the Academy, the Conclave worked with the Assembly so there was no recourse there—even if they would help out an unlicensed witch, which I highly doubted. The humans were a potential ally, but I’d prefer not to muddy the waters with them unless this meeting went to shit.

  Humans were dangerous. No, they didn’t have the weapons we did, the numbers, or even the magic, but they still somehow managed to cause more chaos than any other species on this planet.

  I wasn’t about to trust them with us when they were as volatile and fickle as they’d repeatedly proven themselves to be.

  Rubbing my chin along her shoulder to ease my concerns, I listened as Josefa spat, “We need to talk. There are things we must discuss.”

  “No. There aren’t,” Riel countered instantly. “I’m here because if my original plan goes wrong, I’d like backup.”

  “We need to discuss what this backup entails,” Carlos agreed, siding with Josefa—unsurprisingly.

  “It entails us going to war with the Fae,” she murmured, and the simplicity of her words, the lack of emotion in her statement, had me wanting to wince.

  But, the AFata weren’t wrong.

  The second a Virgo bond came into play, loyalties changed. Allegiances were suddenly no longer as important as once they were.

  No bond could outweigh this one.

  Not familial, not racial.

  I was living proof of that.

  And Noa vil de Luir was a punk and unworthy of the Virgo bond for having thrown his life away for an old ancestral pile of rocks.

  At her statement, the AFata grew a little more excited. It was easy to see that they liked the idea of that, and considering they were terrorists—linking myself with the group made me feel unerringly like my uncle who’d had the whole family shunned for his political alliances—violence was in their nature, and they would and could use it to their own gain with no shame.

  Great allies, huh?

  “But you don’t think that will be necessary?” Carlos probed, his tone less enthused than the interest his people were radiating. Either that, or he was a better poker player than he was an organizer of a political freedom-fighting movement.

  “No, I don’t,” Riel answered simply.

  “Why not?”

  “That isn’t for you to know.”

  “We’re going to tie ourselves to you—”

  “With a reward in mind. I’m a witch before I’m Fae. My duty rests with my kind.”

  “We only have your word on that,” Josefa hissed, her hands clenching at Riel’s obstinate refusal to share her plans.

  I kind of understood how the strange woman was feeling. Seph, Dan, and I weren’t exactly in the picture, and we were her Virgo!

  “My word is all you’ll get out of me,” Riel said bluntly, her tone a mite arrogant and all the hotter for it.

  I might be confused, a little wary about my newfound abilities, and a lot in the dark, but seeing her take charge was like my version of porn.

  “Do we have an agreement?” Gabriella rasped, finally speaking up. “Your numbers if things turn to war?”

  Carlos looked at Josefa. “You might not need to talk about this with us, but we need to discuss it among ourselves, as well as the other committees.”

  Riel shrugged. “Get busy then. We’ll be back before the end of the day is out.” To Linford, she murmured, “You know where my family lives?”

  He blinked at her. “Of course.”

  “Can you take us there, please?”

  He didn’t bother replying, but he did summon a dagger and nick his arm. It figured he hadn’t been totally lying about using runes to craft portals, but the magic was there only because of the ‘lodestone,’ as Gabriella had called it, that he’d touched over a hundred years ago.

  As I’d discerned with the witch at the back of the room, I felt the energy begin to gather as Linford called on a portal to transport us to Riel’s family home.

  Unlike the witch’s, this wasn’t red, it was a bright shade of blue. Almost a cyan, but lighter. It pulsed for a few moments until it morphed into a silver color. There was a flash, a bright glow, and like that, we’d been transported across the ocean to Miami.

  As a method of transportation, portals really couldn’t be beaten. No wonder the Fae were keen to get early access to fallen meteorites if such potential magic was locked into each one. I had to wonder if my family had even touched a lodestone. My grandfather would know, but he’d never told me of anything like that—nor would he. We were close, but disclosing such information would undoubtedly breach Assembly laws, and our family, shunned as it was, was careful to live within the Assembly’s might.

  We landed in a foyer. Smart, considering it wouldn’t be wise to land outside a house or in the street, but still, it came as a surprise to be inside someone’s home without having been extended an invitation.

  Riel’s hand grabbed mine, she squeezed then murmured, “Home.” With a smile, she headed off down the hall, leaving the rest of us behind as she went on, what I could only assume, was the hunt for her family.

  Without her looking on, I took the opportunity to take the place in. My first impression wasn’t great. Sure, it was better than the Cuban homestead, but that wouldn’t have taken much. I mean, I’d known there were major differences between her childhood and mine, but even though my family was in exile, our wealth by contrast was huge.

  Granted, the place was as neat as a pin. The wooden linoleum floor was old and a little cracked at the edges, but shiny from being cleaned so much. On the wall beside the door were several coat hooks that were loaded down with jackets, a reminder of just how many people probably lived here still. I knew Riel was the second eldest, so that meant there were probably at least five kids running around, depending on the age gaps between siblings.

  The foyer was small, narrow, and light came through windows that lined the doorway, sending shards of summer sun into the hallway, which was open plan and led into the living room.

  Old-fashioned leather sofas, scratched here and there, were aimed at an old, silver box TV. No plasma screens here. There was a nineties-style fireplace that had a traditional Gaian candelabra on top of it. But as far as I could see in a quick glance around the room, that was pretty much it where the Way was concerned.

  There were no tapestries on the walls, no paintings of the traditional scrollwork I knew witches often used to decorate their homes. Just that singular candelabra. Forged from brass, it was a single stick with three offshooting arms. The single stick represented earth, and that was etched with leaves and branches. The other three arms represented fire, air, and water, and each one was decorated with similar motifs.

  I knew from just looking at the piece how old it was. Sol, it was an antique. It radiated history and age, and I wasn’t sure if that kind of patina was something that would have registered with me before, or if my new powers were picking up on something within the metalwork.

  I couldn’t stop myself from heading over to the mantelpiece, and when I reached out, I paused at the realization I’d make it invisible. I willed myself not to pull a magician’s act on the antique, and when I touched my finger to the surf that decorated the candlestick which represented water and it didn’t disappear, relief settled inside me.

  This new ability was useful, but it would be useless if I couldn’t control it.

  As I traced the s
urf that looked as frothy as it felt under my fingertip, I felt Gabriella approach me from behind. “I wasn’t sure if she’d keep it.”

  I frowned. “Why?” It was an heirloom. That much I could sense. This piece was probably worth more than all the furniture in the room, Sol, maybe even the house.

  Gaian candlesticks were common among witches, since it was something they used to initiate their rites as well as a way to bless the house every Friday before the start of a new week, but though they were common, they were still special, and could be costly.

  “She avoided magic as much as she could when she grew old enough to be able to control it. She taught Riel what she had to, and when Riel showed little aptitude with it, I knew that even though a part of her was ashamed since our line is strong and Riel wasn’t, I sensed she was also relieved.

  “It’s easier to hide weaker powers than it is strong ones, after all, and because of my foolishness, Luisa wanted nothing more than to hide. If she could turn herself human, I feel sure she would.”

  Cutting her a look, I felt Daniel’s approach. “What is it?” he asked.

  “Just something we pass down to the girls in our family,” Gabriella stated softly.

  He hummed. “Pretty.”

  “Very.”

  “Where’s the Sol salutation?” he inquired, peering around the walls. “They usually come together, don’t they?”

  “How do you know that?” Gabriella countered, cocking a brow at him.

  “I’m a diplomat’s son. That might not mean much to my people, but it does to human’s and witches,” he said dryly.

  “He’s a middleman for the Conclave and the Assembly?” Gabriella questioned, and I could hear from her tone she was impressed.

  Daniel nodded. “Yep. I learned a lot about witches from him.”

  “What like?” I demanded, suddenly feeling like a large chunk of my education was lacking. Which, I guessed, it was, considering I was now related to a family of witches and, Sol, if I managed to beget a child with Riel and that child was a girl? She could be a witch too. I wasn’t sure how that would work, if the child would have wings as well, but we’d find out…

  At least, I hoped we would.

  Gaia, I was far too young—Riel too—to be thinking of children, but the notion of her carrying my young was definitely something that appealed to me.

  The Virgo bond was turning me into a Neanderthal, that was for sure.

  “Sol salutations are the natural counterpoints to the Gaian candlestick,” Gabriella explained. “The candles cleanse the house, purify the air on a weekly basis. When a candle burns, and the caster utters the cleansing spell, we believe we’re connecting with Gaia, asking her to call on the elements to bless our homes.

  “Sol salutations aren’t a blessing. They’re not supposed to purify the house, if anything, they’re supposed to protect the people within.” She cut me a look. “What do you know of the witches’ beliefs on Sol and Gaia?”

  “You mean, do we know that our beliefs are different than yours?” I asked, my tone wry.

  “Yes,” she replied, her eyes somber. “There’s a great difference. For the Fae—”

  “Sol is a warrior, Gaia an instructor. That’s why those two castes are the most important. They emulate the God and Goddess’ natural traits.”

  Gabriella nodded. “But for us, they weren’t just that. They were married. The elements were their offspring.” She rubbed the base of the candlestick, her fingers tracing along the hundreds of little leaves that were etched into the brass. “It’s considered bad luck to have this in a house without the Sol salutation.”

  “Papa!” Riel’s happy squeak had my lips curving, even if her outburst did break into her grandmother’s explanation. I had to admit to being interested in what she had to say. Interested where, before, I’d have been bored.

  Sol, how I’d changed.

  “Nena!” came the deep, melodious reply. “I’ve missed you.”

  She grunted. “You could have called me.” There was a distinct whacking sound, and I assumed she’d just hit him on the arm.

  “Your mother was mad. For good reason. Years of lies, mija.” He tutted.

  “I meant well.”

  “No good deed goes unpunished,” he replied, and even though I could hear the genuine emotion in his voice that told me he was pleased to see Riel, I could also hear a latent anger in the words that told me her mother wasn’t the only one who was angry.

  “Anyway, what have you done to your hair? And are those contacts? Your mother is going to go mad when she sees you,” he spluttered, evidently registering her newly platinum locks and the silvery eyes that were still taking me some time to get used to.

  I wasn’t surprised when she cleared her throat and changed the subject. “What are you doing home at this time?”

  There was a loud sniffing sound. “Bad head cold. You know how I am in summer. Always the same.”

  Footsteps sounded next, and through the open archway that led into a small dining room with a too large table, which I presumed connected with the kitchen, a large man walked through.

  Riel’s father had to be over six-six in height, and he was built like a bear. From his speech, I’d assumed he was Latino, but call me prejudiced, I’d just never seen a Latino guy this damn big.

  With his arm hooked around Riel, she looked dainty and petite. As small as Gabriella and, I assumed, the absent Luisa.

  Gaia’s tears, the man was massive.

  He had Riel’s eyes, but that was it. His face was craggy, his eyes dark and chocolate-like, as had been Riel’s before the meteor, and he still had most of his hair even though it was fine and thinning out on top, and it wasn’t due to the low buzzcut he had either.

  His throat was as thick as a six-pack of damn beer, and just as I finished gaping at him, he noticed us. His gaze drifted around, catching sight of the wings, as well as the fact that there was a woman who was Gabriella’s twin standing in the room, and he reared back, braking to a halt.

  “Who are these—?” He blinked, then shook his head as he looked at Gabriella. “Who are you? Why do you look like my daughter did before she had a stupid hair cut?”

  “It would have been a dye, Papa, not a cut. My hair’s the same length,” Riel complained—because a conversation about her hair was really important right about now.

  He waved a hand. “Who are you?” he repeated, then he shook his head like he’d been swimming and was trying to get water out of his ear. “Who are all of you?”

  Gabriella stepped forward. “You know me, Ernesto.”

  He blinked. “I do?” When he reached up and rubbed his temple, he didn’t shock me by murmuring, “I thought I was getting better, but I must be dreaming.”

  “No, Ernesto, I’m Gabriella.”

  “You’re not Gabriella.” He grunted. “I’m seeing double.”

  Riel snorted. “How can you be seeing double when we don’t look the exact same?”

  “I had a bad fever. You can have hallucinations in a fever. This—”

  “No, Dad. This isn’t a hallucination. You’re not dreaming either. That really is Grandma.”

  Gabriella blew out a breath. “I have a lot of explaining to do.”

  Seph huffed under his breath. “You think?”

  ❖

  Riel

  Convincing my father that he wasn’t lucid dreaming took a lot longer than it should have, and when he learned my grandmother’s reasons for faking her death, it didn’t lessen his scowl any.

  He’d always liked her. My abuela hadn’t exactly been the archetypal mother-in-law, and I knew he’d probably liked her more than my mom actually had. They hadn’t had the best of relationships, and I knew a lot of their arguments stemmed from me and my inability to cast the simplest spells. I’d always figured it had always been dicey between them. Papa said they were like chalk and cheese, and he wasn’t wrong.

  My mom’s relief when Abuela had died was twofold. One, I knew she was happy she
didn’t have to worry about her being shipped back to Cuba. Two, she’d taken it as an opportunity to cut out what little magic we had in our lives.

  Gone were the weekly house blessings, and she’d thrown away the Sol salutation on the wall even though I’d sobbed when she’d tossed it in the trash.

  Eradicating magic from our lives had hurt, and knowing she did it because my beloved abuela had died and I was useless with casting spells had made me feel even shittier.

  I’d been at that weird age of sixteen where it was easy to feel like the world was against you, and where no one and nothing could ever possibly understand what you were going through. Sure, I could see it was the height of selfishness now, but back then? I felt like my world was crashing in on me.

  It was one of the reasons I’d cut and run from Miami to LA. Why I’d decided to go to college there. There’d been other reasons, of course. Not wanting to be a free babysitter had been one of those reasons. Not wanting to be the one my mom always called on to help out with the kids—even if I was busy at work or studying, and even if my brothers were just hanging out and messing around.

  Escaping to LA had taken a big weight off my shoulders because it had removed some of my resentment since my newfound freedom had given me a joy I hadn’t had before.

  Looking back, my selfishness resonated on a whole other level, but I was a kid and I was young, and my mother’s choices weren’t my own, even though she’d tried, repeatedly, to thrust them on me.

  And a few hours later, when she returned home with two of my brothers in tow, I was reminded of why we butted heads. Reminded of just how dominant a woman she was when my brothers tried to run toward me and she stopped them by resting her hands on their shoulders.

  The second she did that?

  I knew my coming here was futile.

  I’d thought to start mending bridges, but that wasn’t going to work. Not even bringing Abuela back would do much. I didn’t need the Sight to see that.

  As loneliness filtered through me, as well as regret for a mother-daughter relationship that was never going to happen, she sniped, “What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t leave until you graduated?”