The past few months have been a trip. I made it through fighting zombie mummies… jetting overseas for the first time… and acing an odd experience with the pyramids. Plus, I did it all with Alec, Bry, and Knox.
Which means I can do this.
I can walk back into high school again.
Nearby, happy students chatter about starting senior year. Everyone looks like regular teenagers in school uniforms. They aren’t. Sure, there’s the occasional human in the mix. Still, most students are Magicorum. I spy weres, fairies, and magic users in the crowd. Alec waits across the walkway. As usual, he’s swamped with his many admirers. Everyone knows his Glass Slipper Ball is on Valentine’s Day. Right now, all the buzz is about the school’s Autumn Masquerade. Word is, whoever Alec takes to that will certainly be his bride.
I try not to think about it too much.
Bry and Knox stand nearby. Her head leans on his shoulder as a parade of weres march by them both. Basically, Bry and Knox are the total power couple of the shifter community now. Their buds, Hollywood and Abe, keep bowing and calling them your Majesties. And considering how Knox is the known warden of magic, that makes sense. Bry is no slouch in the power department, either. Weres sense this stuff, and it makes them submit.
Sadly, it’s not the same deal with the fae.
I’ve spent my whole life hiding the fact that I’m the warden of fae magic. As of today, only Alec, Bry, and Knox know the truth. And after our experience at the pyramids, let’s just say it’s not a lock that I’m as super-charged as I used to be. So why am I purposely hanging out with fae by attending this school? They could find out I’m a warden and still pretty powerful in magic.
There’s only one reason I’m here, and he’s chatting up fans across the walkway.
I am so screwed.
A group of fae seniors walk by. Everyone calls them the Three Seasons, mostly because they’re named Autumn, Winter, and Spring. There used to be the Four Seasons, but Summer graduated last year. There’s no missing their whispers, mostly because they’re not trying to keep their voices too low.
She doesn’t even have wings.
How did she get into West Lake Prep anyway?
I heard it’s because the shifters feel sorry for her.
On reflex, my hands ball into fists. I’m half fairy, so you’d think I like my kind. Yet outside of my mother, I haven’t met anyone from the Faerie Lands who doesn’t suck.
Bry steps to my side. “What’s wrong?”
“What makes you ask that?”
This is one of my best tricks, by the way: answer a question with another question. It’s a great way to avoid communicating anything that’s a downer. And Bry is so smiley today, I hate to rain on her happy shifter parade.
When we first started school, Bry was relegated to studying in the basement. Long story. Now she’s in regular shifter classes and the equivalent of a queen. No one deserves happiness more than Bry.
“Come on.” Bry sighs. “I can scent your worry.”
“You can? Weird.”
“Don’t avoid the question, Elle. I know most of your tricks. You taught them to me.” When she next speaks, her voice is very low. “What are you anxious about? I have a few ideas.”
“Anxious? Me? No way. I can handle the no wing comments.”
Bry gasps. “The fairies are teasing you about not having wings?”
“All day long. You have shifter hearing. I figured you knew.”
Knox steps up. Now his nose is telling him there’s trouble. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine. You guys get back to your scene.”
Knox frowns. “You’re worried that magic isn’t returning to the world, yeah?”
This time I answer a question with another question, and it’s not on purpose. “What?”
“We had all those adventures in Egypt,” says Bry. “That should have boosted the number of Magicorum around.”
“Or made the ones who are here more powerful,” adds Knox. “That hasn’t happened. I just guessed that’s what was bugging you. Bry and I talk about it all the time.”
The bell rings, signaling us to enter the school. We all wear enchanted bracelets that hide our true nature. On the exterior, West Lake Prep looks like a brownstone with a short flight of steps leading to a single wooden door. The students look like humans, too. Yet once you cross the threshold, the glamour vanishes. Everyone’s outfit changes. The shifters wear leather. The magic users all sport robes. The fairies dress in neon outfits which contrast their wings.
As I step across the threshold, my own ensemble transforms as well. All of a sudden, I’m in jeans and a T-shirt. There’s no need to dress like the rest of the fairies. If I’m not going to fit in, I might as well be comfortable.
Once again, I wonder why I’m here.
My gaze snaps to find Alec in the crowd. He’s chatting up a group of no less than six girls. His eyes find mine. He gives me the barest of winks. I nod, blush, and hurry off to the fae section of the school.
My first class of the day is fae history. Turns out, everything I learned in my online classes was human stuff. Here at West Lake Prep, we learn about the Magicorum. Even so, most of this stuff I already knew from surfing Magicweb. When you retrieve magical jewels, learning comes along for the ride.
I enter the classroom. Like everywhere else in this section, it’s painted in neon colors—green in this case. Loopy golden desk chairs line the floor. I slip into one in the back corner. There are about thirty other kids here, all of them in their seats. The trio of seniors from outside keep not-whispering about me. They really need a new hobby.
Our teacher for this class is Goldilocks, the principal of the fae school. She looks like a little cherub with blonde hair, but make no mistake. Goldilocks is evil. Our principal flits to the front of the class and slaps her enchanted lollipop against her palm. Everyone quiets.
“Good morning class.”
“Good morning, Goldi,” say the students.
“Every so often I introduce the new additions to our little community. There hasn’t been anyone in ages, so I’m very excited for the news today.” One of the Three Seasons raises her hand. Goldi gestures to her. “Yes, Autumn?”
“We’ve had a new girl for a while now.” Autumn points to me. “It’s Elle.”
“You should introduce her,” says Spring.
“Elle?” Goldi stares at me as if she’s seeing me for the first time. “When did you get here?”
“A while ago.”
“You don’t have wings,” says Goldi.
“I’m aware. It’s my back.”
Goldi’s upper lip curls, as if she’s being asked to scoop up sewage with her bare hands. “I suppose I should introduce you. Everyone, this is Elle. She doesn’t have any wings and we don’t know why she’s here—”
“I heard it’s a shifter thing,” offers Winter. Every school has a group of popular kids who can interrupt anyone, including the Principal. At West Lake Prep, that’s the Three Seasons.
“Huh.” Goldi stares at me and shivers. “Moving on. What I really wanted to lead off with today is our newest student. Everyone please join me in welcoming Jacoby the dark elf!”
My stomach sinks. I quickly scan the windows and doors, trying to see if there’s an easy escape route. No such luck.
I cross my fingers under my desk. Maybe this isn’t my Jacoby. There are a ton of dark elves running around, right? It doesn’t mean that the guy I’ve had confusing feelings about since forever is going to walk into my classroom at West Lake Prep.
Yet sure enough, it’s my Jacoby who steps across the threshold.
Oh, crap.
Jacoby slides into the open seat next to mine. “Hello, Elle.”
The principal starts going on and on about the various types of fae, including fairies, pixies and elves. She then talks about how elves are more important than everyone else. I pay scant attention at best. Why?
My day has just gotten worse.
It’s not only that Jacoby is here. Blackaverre just appeared at the front of the classroom as well. I scan the other faces. Does anyone else see her? No. So that’s good. It also means she’s still my fairy godmother, but that’s beside the point.
“What are you looking at?” asks Jacoby.
“Nothing,” I counter. “And what are you doing here?”
“Learning. It’s very important, don’t you think?”
“I’m paying attention to class, thank you very much.”
Winter starts whispering to Jacoby, which thankfully distracts the guy. Meanwhile, Blackaverre starts miming someone walking around super primly with her face scrunched up. Okay, so that’s Marchesa. Then my fairy godmother starts making soundless pow noises while showing her hands blowing apart.
I mouth one name. Marchesa?
Blackaverre shakes her head. That’s a no.
Another silent word follows. Store? I ask.
This time, Blackaverre nods. Yes.
In other words, there’s trouble at Cynder Mercantile. Blackaverre is a classic fairy template, so it’s possible she’s lying. Even so, that’s not a risk I can take. And in truth, I’ve been worried about Cynder for ages.
Time to face my past.