“Do you ever crash into planes?” I ask, ready for a change of subject.
“Planes? Oh, no,” Fiona exclaims, as if that’s the silliest thing she’s ever heard. “We stay off the radar. Off the grid. They can’t see us. Not that we shouldn’t be careful. We can cause an awful turbulence if we impede an airplane.” She chuckles. “Some witches like to cause a bit of a racket with the airline industry, but it’s frowned upon. Unlike some supernatural species, we wish to coexist with the Unmagicals.”
I peer over at the plane again, and I can’t help but wish I was on it. Oblivious to the supernatural world and witch-induced turbulence as I fly to a normal destination like a normal human being. Instead, my life has been figured out for me. Nobody has ever asked me what I want. My opinions have never mattered.
I recognize that my place by Auberon’s side is important. But is it worth it? Is this what I want long term? Do I even have a choice?
I wish I’d thought to read the fine print before I signed my life over to a Fae Prince.
7
I’m not sure what time it is when we touch down in Nevermoor, New Hampshire. Days and nights seem to blend in each other these days. Fiona’s carefully settles the car to the ground, parallel-parking between a sleek El Camino and a Toyota Prius.
Who the heck drives a Prius around here?
“Here we are, right on schedule,” she says with a gleeful smile as she throws open the driver’s side door and steps out of the car, sighing with relief as she stretches her legs.
Looking every bit like the outsider I am, I gape at my surroundings as I climb out of the car. With the full moon as an eerie backdrop, the Academy definitely looks like the textbook definition of a school for witches. Ominous stone buildings are arranged in a u-shape around an impressive gothic-looking clock tower that seems to stand watch over the entire town. I’ve seen nothing like it, and as I stare up at it, completely awestruck, I swear I can feel it staring right back down at me.
I see you, clock. I know you’re watching me.
As if in response, the clock strikes ten, its chime so loud, the ground beneath us vibrates with the intensity of it.
Well, at least I’ll always know what time it is.
“It’s a bit loud, but we are a punctual bunch,” Fiona tells me. “We like to know what time it is. Especially now that The Darkness Curse has overtaken our otherwise cheerful little town.”
She locks the car with a small fob in her hand, which seems a little pointless, considering it’s convertible that’s fueled by magic.
“We don’t much time to tour the town, and everything is closed by now anyway, but I can still show you a few of the main points of attraction before we get you settled for the evening,” she says. “You’ll get a proper tour of Nevermoor and of the Academy itself tomorrow, as well. Come. Let’s walk and stretch our legs for a bit.”
Nevermoor, New Hampshire is a small but cozy New England town, the highlight being the Academy that sits right smack in the middle of it. Fiona takes me down the main street which is every bit as charming as the main street in any other non-magical town. The sidewalks are clean, well-maintained, and lined with old-timey street lamps. We stroll past a tempting array of quaint boutiques, a bookstore, a flower shop, and an apothecary. There’s even a cute cafe and bakery on the corner.
The other side of the main street comprises park space with ample trees and grassy areas, perfect for studying and picnics if only there was the daylight to enjoy it.
“Stop,” squawks a harsh, grumpy voice. “Hey! Are you blind, lady? I said STOP!”
Startled, I don’t see anyone but Fiona, and she doesn’t seem at all bothered by the disembodied voice. In front of us, a huge raven dances on a wooden perch that sits in the center of a four-way intersection.
“Oh, for the love of… Edgar!” Fiona says, stomping her foot in frustration and glaring at the bird which has now fixed her with a fierce stare. “There’s no one here.” She sweeps her arm out at the desolate streets to prove her point.
“Doesn’t matter. I say stop, and you stop. The law is the law, you know.”
“Not when there is no traffic,” argues Fiona, her hands on her hips.
“Uh… I hate to interrupt whatever this is,” I whisper, gesturing back and forth between Fiona and the talking raven. “But is that bird…”
“Yes, that’s Edgar, and he’s a real pain in the ass,” grumbles Fiona, just loud enough for the bird to hear her.
“Edgar… The Raven… Fitting,” I murmur, but Fiona doesn’t notice. She just stands there, her foot tapping as she waits for what I assume is the bird’s blessing to cross the street.
“You may proceed,” he says with a little bow of his feathered head.
“There isn’t much up ahead,” Fiona tells me, once we are away from the law-enforcing raven. “That’s mostly faculty housing, which likely isn’t all that exciting for you.” She gestures to a row of quirky homes across the street. “But there’s a great restaurant you should visit. Tallulah’s World-Famous Chicken Emporium. It’s been around for ages.” She claps her hands together as a hungry expression flits across her face. “They have the best—“
“Let me guess,” I say. “Chicken?”
“No!” Fiona scowls at me as if I’ve just blasphemed. “Clam Chowder. It’s the best in the state. People come from all over the world to try it.”
“Clam chowder?” I laugh. “At a chicken emporium?”
Fiona shrugs. “They do serve chicken, I suppose, but it’s not as good as the clam chowder.” She stops walking and squints up ahead at the horizon. “Well, I think that’s enough to give you an idea. We should head back. I want you to get a full night’s sleep tonight. Tomorrow’s a big day, you know.”
As if I could forget.
Her eyes spark with an excitement I wish I could match, but right now I’m more nervous than excited. The town seems cute enough, aside from Edgar the Raven. But the Academy itself seems a little daunting. It’s a far cry from the University of Texas and the Butler School of Music. The scariest thing one might encounter there is the row of grubby green couches and the decades worth of germs that linger inside of them.
The Academy looks ancient with its moody gothic architecture and intimidating clock tower. Fiona explains that it was built by witches and warlocks in the early 17th century. A hundred years later, the Academy was renovated after it was burned to the ground, due to an unfortunate magical mishap in one of the alchemy labs.
“The clock tower was the only thing left standing,” she says, laughing. “Though they decided it, too, needed a renovation.” She pulls open the heavy wooden doors, and I follow her inside. “Here we are,” she says, lowering her voice. “Though I don’t know why I’m whispering. The students are enjoying a month-long Spring Break. The place is empty. Well, except for the ghosts. But they’re so excited you’re here, they’ve assured us they’ll leave you in peace. At least until you get your bearings.”
“Oh, good,” I say. “I’ve met lots of supernaturals so far, but I haven’t had the pleasure of encountering a ghost yet.”
Fiona throws her hands up in the air. “Anything is possible at the Nevermoor Academy,” she says with a broad grin.
“Anything is possible,” I repeat, scanning the expansive foyer and marveling at the high arched ceilings and wood-paneled walls.
Either the spirits are not keeping their promise to leave me alone, or the dark spots in the walls are moving around of their own accord, playing tricks on my weary eyes. I pretend not to notice. I’m not in the mood to humor a bunch of spirits tonight. It’s been a long day, and I need to sleep.
“Come, Sophia. I will take you to the dormitories,” says Fiona, taking me by the elbow.
She leads me down a massive corridor until we reach a rickety, old-school elevator that looks as if it was overlooked during the renovations. An elderly gentleman with a stooped posture watches me as we enter.
“Floor?” he asks in a reedy voice as
he tugs the squeaky brass doors closed.
“Thirteen, please,” Fiona says, flashing a polite smile.
Thirteen?
“Um…” I say once we are off the elevator. “Isn’t the thirteenth floor…”
“The faculty floor,” she says, interrupting me. “They have the biggest rooms along with private bathrooms that they don’t have to share with annoying roommates.” She stops at the end of the hall, fiddling with a skeleton key that she jiggles in the lock a few times before the door opens. “We reserve this room for guests of the Academy, so I hope they’ve prepared it—ah, yes. Perfect.”
I am instantly drawn in by the beauty of the room. Textured burgundy damask wallpaper adorns the top half of the walls while mahogany wainscoting makes up the lower half. A stunning chandelier hangs over a huge antique bed, and built-in bookshelves crammed with old classic books and quirky odds-and-ends span an entire wall at the head of the bed.
“Wow,” I say, walking to the window and pulling back the curtains to reveal an expansive view of the grounds. Another dormitory building sits to my left with views of the park straight ahead. “This is a dorm room?” I throw a glance over my shoulder at Fiona. “If so, I’ve been doing this whole college-thing all wrong.”
Fiona nods, a secretive smile stretching across her face. “Faculty enjoy many perks of living in the dormitories,” she says. “There’s a bell on the table beside your bed. The room will provide for you, but if it does not, just ring the bell, and Elaine will see to your— “
A ferocious and somewhat embarrassing growl emanating from the hungry depths of my stomach interrupts her.
“Oh dear!” Fiona looks mortified. “You must be starved, you poor child. How rude of me to not have stopped for lunch earlier today. Would you like something to eat?”
“Sure,” I say.
Aside from the breakfast I never ate, it’s the first time I’ve thought of food all day today.
“Anything particular in mind?” My mind goes blank. I can normally rattle off about a million things I could eat, but nothing come to mind right now. “Tell you what…” Fiona reaches in her bag and pulls out a feathered quill and a pot of ink. “Write down what you want, and within about five minutes, you will have it.”
“I don’t want to put anyone out,” I say. “It’s late—“
“It’s magic,” Fiona says, winking at me. “But don’t feast too much tonight. We serve breakfast at 7am sharp in the Faculty Lounge.”
I nod. “Faculty Lounge. 7am. Got it.”
“You’ll find a campus map and some paper inside desk there.” She nods in toward an antique writing desk in the corner next to the window. “Now, I’ll leave you to get settled.”
“Thank you, Fiona,” I say, smiling at my new friend. “Thank you for everything today. I’m not as nervous as I was earlier.”
“Just doing my job, Sophia.” She smiles back at me. “Goodnight.”
She closes the door, and I am alone in my room, though room is a serious understatement. It’s more like a suite inside a sprawling Victorian estate than a dorm room. I kick off my shoes and curl my toes in the cozy white rug beneath the bed, feeling a pang of longing for Alexander.
I pull out my phone before I realize I can’t text him. I can’t even call him. In fact, I’m not sure how I can get a hold of him at all. Carrier pigeon, perhaps? This seems like the sort of place that would have carrier pigeons and maybe an owl or two hanging around.
Feeling too exhausted and hungry to think about it for long, I pad into the adjoining bathroom to change out of my ridiculous flapper gown into my pajamas.
As I ponder the world of dinner options before me, my stomach growls in anticipation. Fiona suggested I keep it light. She doesn’t know me very well. Without thinking, I scribble cheeseburger, fries, and diet soda on the piece of paper, hoping the powers that be know how to pick a good burger. And in a few minutes, my food appears, looking every bit as delectable as I imagined. There’s even a bonus: warm, chocolate chip cookie wrapped in paper with a note attached that reads “Enjoy your first night in Nevermoor. With my compliments—Fiona”.
I smile to myself, wasting no time as I dig into my food. Perhaps I will grow to like it here after all.
It’s peaceful walking the silent halls of Nevermoor Academy early in the morning. Until I see a ghost. Fiona had warned me about the ghosts, but I didn’t think I’d actually see one. It’s nothing more than a faint outline that disappears into the walls almost as quickly as it appeared, but it still gives me the creeps.
I turn back to my campus map, realizing I have no idea where I am. Up ahead, I hear the sounds of hushed giggling. My head jerks up, but there is nothing there. Now it’s playing with me.
Yes, I’m lost. Don’t judge me, ghost. I’m a 21st Century woman. Paper maps are not my forte.
I squint down the long, narrow hallway as I try to regain my bearings. How have I gotten lost when I have a map to guide me?
“Sophia Kelly,” says a female voice behind me.
A strangled yelp escapes my throat as I whirl around to face Esmeralda Doran, who must’ve crept up behind me while I was busy poring over my map.
“Esmeralda!” I throw my arms around my friend, thankful to see a familiar face. “You scared me to death,” I admit. “I thought you were a ghost.”
“A ghost?” Her eyes widen with surprise. “Relax, my dear, I may be old, but I’m not dead yet.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I say, reddening. “I saw one… sort of… and then I heard one. Laughing at me because I was never trained in the old ways.”
I hold up my now-crumped campus map.
“So they’re showing themselves to you, are they? The ghosts?” She winks. “We have instructed them to to back off and give you some space. They must like you.”
“That, or my lack of basic navigational abilities is amusing to them.”
“You’re doing just fine,” Esmeralda laughs. “You’re in the right place. The faculty lounge is just hidden behind magic. I’m here to let you in. After today, you’ll be able to use the lounge and come and go as you please.” She smiles. “We usually have these things all set up before our VIPs arrive, but—”
She stops and lifts a hand to her ear as if receiving some kind of message through an invisible earpiece. She gives an urgent nod, her face clouding over with frustration.
“I’m sorry, Sophia, but I am being summoned to the kitchen. Second time this morning.” She sighs and shakes her head. “I swear, if I have to break up another fight…” She trails off. “I have two rival covens working together in the kitchen, and then those four girls bickering like children in there.” She sighs and nods to a set of double doors that materialize in the wall to my left. “I swear… I’m surprised no one has blown the roof off this place yet.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m apologize in advance for the…” She pauses, glancing at the doors. “Petty immaturity behind those doors.”
Something crashes in the lounge. There is an anguished howl, followed by loud female voices yelling back and forth at each other. Esmeralda sighs again and gives me an apologetic, yet somewhat pleading look.
“Sounds… homey,” I comment with an uneasy smile.
“Just… do your best.” She gives my arm a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll catch up after breakfast.”
I take a deep breath and try to shake off the bout of nervousness that flutters in the pit of my stomach. I have no idea what awaits me on the other side of those doors. It doesn’t sound like bickering. It sounds like an actual catfight. I push open the doors and step inside.
Four women about my age sit around an elegant table, shouting and fighting amongst themselves. One of them has her face buried in her hands, sobbing while the others argue, their voices growing louder and more heated as the argument escalates.
“Uh, hello,” I say, with one hand on the doorknob in case I have to take off.
The argument gives way to complete silence as the four women turn to stare at
me. My jaw drops when I recognize their faces.
No. No way. It’s not possible. Please tell me this isn’t happening. Please tell me this isn’t what I agreed to. That this is some sort of joke.
“Sophia Kelly, I thought I sensed your presence,” exclaims a bubbly voice.
Sarah Taylor, Colin’s ex-girlfriend, rises from her place at the table and hurries over to me. With a gigantic smile plastered across her immaculate, she pulls me into a sisterly embrace that I find comforting, despite our previously awkward relationship.
“I would’ve come up last night to say hi, but it was late, and I knew you’d had a long journey and probably just wanted to rest.” She presses her glossy, pink lips together before flashing a dazzling smile. “It’s so good to see you again.”
If she thinks I was the reason for her split with Colin, she makes no effort in showing it. Instead, she drapes a friendly arm around my shoulders and turns so we’re facing the other three girls. I recognize all but one of them. I’d met them the night Colin and I went to see Jaime Owens’ trio.
“Ruby, Myra, Anne. She’s here. She made it,” Sarah gushes, presenting me like some sort of game show prize.
“Yes, Sarah, thank you for that announcement,” Myra snaps, rolling her eyes as she pushes her mane of curls out of her face. She pushes past Sarah, bumping her in the shoulder as she stands in front of me.
Sarah gasps as she pitches forward, nearly pulling me down with her.
“Totally unnecessary,” she mutters, scowling at Myra in response.
“Hey, Sophe,” Myra says, clapping me on the shoulder and giving me a quick once-over. “It’s been awhile. You look… Fae.”
“Thanks,” I say with a weak laugh, not sure how to respond. Myra has created her own image of me in her head, based on what she thinks I should look like. Aside from my hair, I’m not that much different.
Faebound Rhapsody Page 8
