I tilt my head to the side. “You said they’re very rare, didn’t you? So can I sell him for lots of money?”
Dash’s face falls. He hugs the creature to his chest and covers its ears. “That’s a terrible thing to say, Em. Don’t listen to her, little guy,” he whispers. “She didn’t mean that.”
“Ugh, seriously?” My hands clench into fists. “Can we go now? You said I need to get back to the house, and now you’re wasting time out here with this weird shapeshifting thing.”
He watches me, his mouth open as if he wants to say something. Then he shakes his head. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.” As he raises his stylus to write a doorway, the shapeshifting creature leaps away and disappears into the darkness. Dash extends his hand to me, and I reluctantly take it. Whoever came up with the physical contact rule for faerie path traveling obviously didn’t take into account the possibility that some people might never want to hold hands.
When the darkness disappears to reveal dim light, we’re standing outside the Chevalier House gate. “You could have just taken us straight into the house, you know.”
“I couldn’t, actually,” Dash says as he pushes the gate open. “The faerie paths don’t open inside the house or anywhere in the garden.”
I swing the gate shut behind us. “That’s weird. Why?”
“Security measure. It’s like that for most private properties. Only the owners can open doorways inside the house itself.”
“Kind of a stupid security measure if anyone can just open the gate.”
“The gate won’t open for just anyone, though,” Dash says as we follow the path up to the house. “If you’ve walked through it in the company of someone who lives here—like the elf who brought us here yesterday—then you’ve been granted magical access to pass through the gate.”
I allow a long sigh to pass my lips. “That all seems unnecessarily complicated. People should just use padlocks and keys.”
Dash chuckles. “Such a human thing to say.”
“Bite me,” I mutter.
We walk into Chevalier House’s entrance hall and find Dash’s BFF teammate Jewel waiting for us. “Oh, you found her,” Jewel says, a smile lighting up her face. “Well done.”
“Are you also part of the babysitting team?” I ask.
She frowns. “What do you mean? I was with Dash when Azzy sent the message to say you’d run. I offered to help look for you.”
“How nice of you,” I say flatly.
Dash nudges me with his elbow, and I take a step away from him so he can’t do it again. Azzy hurries into the room then. “Emerson.” She places her hands on her hips and gives me a stern look. “Running away wasn’t necessary. I hope you know that we aren’t going to force you to stay here against your will. If you’re completely certain you’re not interested in this world, we can send you back to the Guild and they can give you one of those devices that block all magic.”
“Device?” I ask.
“It’s a ring or bangle or something. I’m not sure what form they’re using these days. It’s something that can’t be removed, and it will block your magic entirely.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that was an option.” But as Dash pointed out, magic can help me to help Mom. Especially since the kind of job I could get as a high school graduate wouldn’t pay nearly as much as the kind of job I could get if I whipped up an enchanted version of some higher qualification. If I want to be better equipped to help Mom, then I need to stick around a bit longer. “I’m sorry, Azzy,” I force myself to say. “I’m here to learn now. I won’t run again.”
“Wonderful. Now, why don’t you two stay for dinner?” Azzy asks Jewel and Dash. “Or do you have important cases to deal with?”
“Our team’s done for the day,” Jewel says. She links arms with Dash. “We’d love to stay for dinner.”
“Wonderful,” Azzy says, wrapping an arm around Dash’s shoulders and squeezing them briefly.
“Yeah, really wonderful,” I mutter. “I’m just gonna … clean up, I guess.”
“Of course,” Azzy says, nodding toward one of the doors leading off the entrance hall. “Try not to confuse it with the front door, Em. We wouldn’t want you getting lost outside again.”
I consider rolling my eyes, but it’s too much effort. “I think I can manage.”
When I’m done splashing water on my face and combing my fingers through my hair—which surprises me, yet again, with its bright blue strands—I leave the bathroom and find Jewel waiting alone in the entrance hall. She pushes away from the table. I glance around, but it’s definitely me she’s walking toward. “Um, hi?”
She smiles, and it seems almost genuine. “Look, I really don’t want to do the whole teenage, mean-girl thing, since I know we’re all practically adults around here, but I do just want to point out that Dash isn’t exactly available.”
I decide to play dumb. “Available for what?”
She rolls her eyes. “You know, a relationship.”
“Oh.” I fold my arms. “Why is that?”
“Well, look, it’s not official yet, but we kind of have a thing going.”
“A thing? Really? I never would have guessed that, given the way he tries to charm every female he comes across.”
Jewel’s smile slips a little. “Yeah, I know he’s dated a bunch of girls, but none of those relationships have lasted long, and I know exactly why.”
I feign intense interest. “You do?”
“Yes, it’s obvious: he’s searching for the right person. And he’s so close to discovering that it’s me, so I just don’t want anything to ruin that for us now.”
“Oh, wow, it’s you? How do you know that?”
“Because so much of our lives have been spent together. We trained together. We grew up together. We even played together as babies. We’re meant to be.”
I blink. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Hey!”
“Who cares if you played together as babies? I doubt either of you can remember it.”
“That doesn’t matter! It means we have a history,” she snaps, all trace of her sweet smile gone. “And if we have a history, we’ll have a stronger future.”
“Really? ’Cause Dash and I have a history too, and it’s only ever made me dislike him.”
“Yes, because you have the wrong history. We have the right history, so—”
“Jewel?” I pause to make sure she’s listening. “You can have him. I’m not interested.”
“Oh. Really?”
“Really. I have other priorities right now.” I walk past her and head for the dining room, where loud chatter and mouthwatering aromas fill the air. At the long rectangular table sit the seven other students currently attending Chevalier House, as well as a few fae I’ve seen walking around. Teachers, perhaps, and the man with his hand on Azzy’s wrist, chuckling as he leans closer to say something only she can hear, must be her husband or partner or something of that nature.
“Emerson! You missed something exciting while you were gone,” George tells me as I take a seat.
“Oh, what did I miss?”
“Another new person arrived.”
“And that counts as exciting?” I pull the nearest platter of food closer and begin dishing roasted vegetables onto my plate. They smell a thousand times more delicious than anything Chelsea’s ever cooked.
“That’s two new people in two days,” Azzy says from the head of the table. “That doesn’t happen often here.”
“And she’s old like you,” George adds.
I lower the serving spoon. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, gosh, as old as Emerson?” Dash’s eyes widen. “That’s seriously old.”
George, sitting beside Dash across the table from me, chews his lip as his brow furrows. “Oh, I thought … But isn’t Azzy the one who’s super old? And Emerson is, like, your age?” he says to Dash.
“Okay, and this,” I say, pointing my fork for emphasis, “is why it’s so fl
ipping confusing having people who are a bazillion years old looking like they’re in their twenties.”
Dash shrugs. “We can’t help it if we have magic running through our systems, keeping us young and beautiful.”
“I know, it’s so great, right?” Jewel says as she hurries into the dining room and selects the only available seat on Dash’s side of the table.
“Bazillion? I’m only three hundred and four,” says the man sitting beside Azzy. “I’m Paul, by the way,” he adds with a smile in my direction. “Azzy’s husband.”
“Hi.” I return his smile, pleased to discover that at least some fae have normal names. After tasting some of my food and trying not to moan out loud at how amazing it is, I ask, “So where’s the other new girl?”
“She wasn’t feeling so well,” Azzy says. “Had a traumatizing few days. I gave her something to eat when she arrived just before dinner, and she’s sleeping now. The two of you can begin lessons together tomorrow.”
“Great.” I’m less than thrilled about sharing lessons with someone else—what if she slows me down?—but since I’ve decided to commit myself fully to the Chevalier House program, I should probably be polite to everyone living here.
I turn my attention back to my food, piling a few more delicacies onto my plate when I think no one’s looking. Dash catches my eye, though. I return his smirk with a glare. Spoiled brat probably has a live-in chef at home. No doubt he eats like this all the time.
At the end of the meal, the dishes rise up of their own accord and fly out of the dining room toward the kitchen. I try not to act too surprised, but I can’t help pressing myself back against my chair in fright when my plate first rises into the air. I excuse myself soon afterwards and leave the dining room; all this chatter and activity over dinner isn’t something I’m used to. I’d rather get to bed early so I can focus properly on all this magic stuff tomorrow.
“Em?”
I turn on the bottom step leading up to the bedrooms and look back.
“It’s good that you came back,” Dash says, wandering into the entrance hall. “When you’re kicking butt at all your lessons in a few weeks’ time, let me know so I can gloat about being the one who talked you into staying.”
The only response I give him is another glare.
“Hey, come on, I’m just joking.”
“You know, I’ve been trying to figure out why so many people actually like you when you’re actually such a jackass.”
He shrugs. “Probably because no one else is under the impression that I ruined their lives, so they’re able to see me for who I really am.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
“Friendly guy, charming smile, not half-bad to look at.”
“I’m surprised they can see anything past that gigantic head of yours.”
He frowns and raises a hand to his head. “What’s wrong with my—”
“I meant your ego, dumb-ass.”
“Hey, I said not half-bad. That should only give me a half-sized ego, right?”
“On you, that’s more than big enough,” I say as I turn and head up the stairs.
“Good night, Emmy,” he calls after me.
“Shut up,” I grumble beneath my breath.
I reach my door, push it open—and jump backward at the sight of a tiger sitting on my bed. The tiger flickers and morphs into an owl, then a crow, and then a kitten. Relief courses through me, followed quickly by irritation. “No,” I say. “No, no, no. This isn’t happening. You were supposed to stay out there in the forest.” The kitten blinks. “I’m giving you to Dash. He can take care of you.” I scoop the kitten up and hurry back along the hall.
At the top of the stairs, I stop. Azzy and Dash are standing close together in the entrance hall below, Dash looking uncharacteristically serious. “We have until the end of the week,” he says quietly, “so there’s no immediate rush. But we’ll get a plan in place, probably for the day after tomorrow.”
“Good. And make sure it looks like an accident.”
“Of course.”
I bite my lip, shrinking back into the shadows, knowing instinctively that I wasn’t supposed to hear whatever they were talking about. Before I can decide what to do about the shapeshifting animal, Dash pulls the front door open and leaves. Azzy walks back to the dining room, her lightweight, oversized top floating behind her.
“What on earth?” I whisper to the kitten. An instant later, it becomes a bunny. “Fine. Dash is gone, so you’re on your own.” I place the bunny on the stairs, then hurry back to my room, my mind already racing through explanations for what Dash and Azzy could have been talking about. Perhaps it wasn’t anything sinister at all. Make sure it looks like an accident. That doesn’t sound good, though. But whatever it is, I won’t be getting involved. I’ve survived this long by keeping my nose out of other people’s business, and that isn’t about to change.
After visiting the steaming hot pool in the bathroom—the best thing about this house aside from the food—I climb into bed and tap the lamp to turn it off. It’s powered by magic, of course—electricity doesn’t seem to exist in this world—and Azzy told me to lightly tap it with my finger to turn it on and off. So far, it seems to be working.
I settle down against the pillows, finding it easier to drift off tonight than last night. I’m almost asleep when a sound—a gentle tap at the door—rouses me. So quiet I wonder if I might have imagined it. I sit up, watching the door through the dim grey light from the window and waiting. When the knock comes a second time, I know I’m not imagining it. “Yes?” I call through the darkness. My door opens slowly, revealing the silhouette of a female figure. “Who’s there?” I ask, nerves fluttering suddenly in my stomach.
“Are you Emerson?” she asks. “The other new girl?”
“Um, yes.” I lean over and turn on my lamp as she slips inside and shuts the door. She hurries across the room and drops onto the edge of my bed. I scoot backwards, putting a little more distance between us as I take in her appearance: a creased robe the same color as the one I found hanging in my wardrobe, pale skin, and eyes a deep blueish purple. It’s the same color that runs through her dark hair, which, if I remember my lessons correctly, mean she’s a faerie, not some other kind of fae.
“Please help me,” she whispers, her eyes wide. “It isn’t safe here. We need to leave.”
Part Two
Ten
“Um … what?” I ask, utterly confused. “What are you talking about? And who are you?”
“I’m Aurora. I just got here this evening. The professor told me there was another new girl, and I thought that since you haven’t got too deep into their program yet, and they haven’t brainwashed you, or whatever it is that happens here, we can get away together.”
“Brainwash? Where’d you get that from?”
“Because I—I may not know how to use my magic at all, but I did grow up in this world, and I know things. I’ve heard things. About this place.” She inches a little closer. “People disappear from here sometimes. Like, they just vanish without a trace soon after their training begins. And it’s made to look like Chevalier House has nothing to do with it, but how can it not? People come in here, and they never leave. They just disappear. And I don’t want that to happen to me. I just got my freedom, and I don’t want to lose it.”
If I could move any further away from this girl, I would, but I’m already backed up against the wall. “So, you’re saying … they kill some of the people who come in here?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She tugs at the silky belt of her robe, pulling it tighter. “Or maybe it’s something worse. Maybe they’re prisoners somewhere. Maybe they’re being experimented on.”
“Do you have any proof of that?”
“Of course not, but that doesn’t make it untrue.”
Given what I overheard between Dash and Azzy just now, I’m almost inclined to believe this girl, but her wide, terror-filled eyes remind me all too much of Mom. Mom looking desp
erate and afraid, speaking about equally irrational things. “Look, Aurora. I don’t mean to be unfriendly, but I don’t want to get involved in whatever you’re talking about. You have your issues, and I have mine. Let’s just get through this Magic 101 thing, and we can both go our separate ways.”
She draws back, hurt filling her eyes. “You don’t believe me? You seriously want to take your chances with these people you’ve never met, instead of considering that I might be telling you the truth? That you and I might never get the chance to go our separate ways if something happens to us before then?”
I think again of Dash and Azzy’s quiet conversation. “Okay,” I say slowly. “It’s true that I don’t know the people here at all, but I don’t know you either. You could be making this up.”
She takes a deep breath. “What do you want to know? I’ll … I’ll tell you everything. When you understand how horrendous my life’s been up until now, you’ll understand why I don’t ever want to be a prisoner again. I’ll do anything to get out of here.”
I raise my eyebrows at the word ‘prisoner,’ but I’m still not ready to believe this girl. If there are insane people in my world, there must be insane people in this one too. “Why don’t we leave this until the morning?”
“No! Just let me explain myself. How will you know if you can trust me until you’ve heard what I have to say? How do you know you can trust them?”
I consider shouting out for Azzy, but Aurora’s right. I don’t know if I can trust anyone here. What if Chevalier House and this program is all an elaborate ruse to gather untrained magical beings? I don’t know why anyone would do that, but I don’t know much about this world, so there could be a reason. “Fine. Tell me what you want to tell me.”
“Okay. So, I was brought up by witches—”
“Witches?” I give her a doubtful look. “Like on broomsticks? Nobody’s said anything to me about witches. Are they even real?”