Blood of the Fey (Morgana Trilogy) (7 page)

“And these demonic angels have…magic?” I ask, feeling lightheaded once again.

“Well duh!” Owen says, giggling. “They’re ex-
angels
!”

Two pairs of arms grab my shoulders as I sway on my seat, preventing me from toppling to the ground. Just breathe, I tell myself. This will all be over soon. I’m going to wake up and I’ll laugh at myself for being this ridiculous. And to prove my point, I let out a nervous chuckle.

“I think she’s lost it,” Owen whispers.

Someone slaps me, and I stop laughing, the sting making my cheek feel warm.

“What did you do that for?” Bri exclaims, holding me close.

“That’s what they usually do in movies,” Jack retorts. “Besides, it worked, didn’t it?”

More tears spring to my eyes, for I realize what this means— it’s real, it’s all real!

Jack eyes me suspiciously, his hand still raised. “Do you think she’s going to need another one?”

Holding my cheek, I recoil. “No, I’m fine. I’ll be good now.”

“Are you sure?” Bri asks.

I nod. “Let’s just keep going.”

The three of them look skeptical, but I jump to my feet and force a smile. “Where to now?”

“I suppose the dining hall,” Bri says hesitantly. “We could do the rest of the tour some other time…”

“Perfect!” Owen exclaims, already heading back. “I’m starving.”

“Let’s take the shortcut,” Jack says as we step inside.

We head down a narrow hallway and burst out through the opposite door into a vast courtyard. Despite the dim light, I can
make out an enormous dark shape in the center, one so large it blots out the other side of the building completely.

“What’s that?” I ask, stopping when I see movement in the hedge that seems to spring out of its trunk like a hairy leg.

“Just an apple tree,” Bri says, pulling on my arm. “Come on, this side. The other’s blocked off.”

“Unless you wanna make out with someone,” Owen snorts.

Bri slaps him across the head. “Don’t be such a ninny!” she says, then adds quietly to me, “Though it
is
true what he says. That’s a notorious kissing spot.”

We veer left, hop over a low row of shrubs, and peel down the dirt path toward the opposite side. I can’t take my eyes off the tree’s massive shadow as we reach the other end of the inner courtyard. They open another door, and we find ourselves at the tail end of a thinning crowd of students that’s heading past a wide, arched door, through which I can already detect the smell of fried eggs and sausages.

“Just a moment,” Jack says as we’re about to enter the dining room.

“Can’t this wait?” Owen asks. “All the sausages are gonna be gone!”

“Forewarned is forearmed,” Jack retorts.

We move to the side of the corridor where a large board filled with news clippings and regulations takes up a whole span of the wall.

“Anything you like in there?” Owen asks, growling with impatience.

“Nothing we didn’t know before,” Jack says with a sigh. “Nothing more on those kidnappings either.”

“Why anyone would want to go on Island Park beats me,” Bri says, and I remember the news clipping found in my parents’ office.

“Are there aliens too?” I ask, scared of the answer.

“Of course not,” Jack says.

“I’d think we have enough with the Fey,” Bri adds.

Somehow, her answer makes me feel a little better, and I follow her inside.

“Don’t worry,” Owen repeats for the umpteenth time. “We’ve only covered theory, so you’re not that far behind.”

“You shouldn’t dismiss what we’ve learned,” Jack says.

Owen shrugs. “In my humble opinion, practice is the best way to learn.”

“There’s nothing humble about you,” Bri retorts, and her twin answers with a grin.

I nearly collapse into my bowl of oatmeal when something heavy lands on my back.

“My, isn’t this Arthur’s sister?” a loud, deep voice says, nearly ripping my eardrum apart. “
Enchanté.
”
⁷

The weight lifts from my back, and I find a pair of massive boys making deep curtsies before me. They straighten up gracefully, their smiles bright within their dark faces, and an insane amount of silvery studs adorning their ears. I’d almost think they were twins as well, except where one is broad and completely bald, the other is tall and has a full head of dreadlocks.

“Wonderful performance,” the tall one says, “at church, you know.”

“The best we’ve seen,” the other one adds, “forever and ever.”

“It’s ‘in a long time,’ you sophomoric buffoon,” the tall one says.

The other one frowns. “I don’t like being called a monkey.”

“I said buffoon, not baboon,” the tall one says. He then extends a large hand toward me. “Gauvain, at your service.”

“And Gareth,” says the other, pushing the first one out of the way.

Tentatively, I shake their hands, getting my hands reduced to a pulp in the process.

“I had no idea Arthur was keeping such a pretty sister away from us,” Gauvain says.

I blush and find myself completely tongue-tied, but considering I’m facing a man nearly twice my height and quite evidently all muscle, I feel I’m excused.

“Shut yer big bazoo,” Percy says, playfully punching Gareth in the arm despite barely reaching his navel.

They could easily crush him if they wanted to, but the two boys don’t seem to mind, and instead make more room for him around our table.

“Be sure to ask if you have any problem with lessons,” Gareth says. “I’d be delighted to help you.”

“She’d be better off getting help from a baboon,” Gauvain retorts.

Gareth’s brows lower. “Did you call me a monkey again?”

“No,” Gauvain says. “I said you were worse than one, my—”

He doesn’t get to finish, for Gareth punches him in the stomach, sending the taller boy flying over the table and into the solid wall.

I cringe at the sharp ringing Gauvain makes when he rebounds off the stones, but the moment he hits the ground, he’s back up on his feet again.

“You’re going to pay for that,” he says, flexing his hands, a bluish glow throwing sparks around his knuckles.

“Enough,” Percy says. “Mind the company.”

Gareth and Gauvain weigh each other up for another full second before finally relaxing their stands. With a jerk of his head, Percy gets them to follow him out, stopping by just long enough to talk with two Asian girls at another table.

Moving very slowly, I set my fork back down on the table before I stab someone with it. Next to me, Owen, Jack, and Bri are staring with their mouths agape.

“You-You saw it too, right?” I squeak.

“Aren’t they amazing?” Owen says. “Full KORT members!”

“And they came to you,” Bri adds in awe. “And not just the cousins, but Sir Percy as well!”

“You didn’t…” I sputter. “You seen it, you dididii…”

Giving up on trying to make sense, I gulp my tea down, then gasp as it burns my throat.

“You OK there?” Owen asks, patting my back.

“His hand!” I rasp.

“Yeah, he was about to use an elemental!”

“Which he shouldn’t have,” Jack says, frowning. “It’s dangerous, especially with all these people around.”

“Oh, come on,” Owen retorts. “Percy stopped them. Besides, they know what they’re doing. They’re KORT members!”

“See?” Bri says. “It’s a good thing to be related to the president. Then everyone likes you.”

“Well, not everyone,” Jack says, pointing to the other end of the dining hall.

Still fanning my tongue, I look over my shoulder and find myself locking gazes with the haughty Jennifer, who appears to have been ditched by my brother.

“Beautiful people don’t like it when others become the center of attention,” Jack whispers.

“Not Jennifer,” Owen retorts. “She’s a true angel!”

As I watch the blonde girl strut out of the room, I have a feeling that Owen may be delusional.

Classes starting at seven, we leave the dining hall the moment we hear the church bells ring the hour. I relegate the fight to the deepest recesses of my mind, willing the whole incident never to have occurred—if only to keep my sanity for a while longer.

As we make our way up another narrow staircase, the sunlight filters through the slitted windows, crisscrossing the steps like a bar code.

“I still can’t believe you know so many people from KORT!” Owen says, jumping up a couple of steps. “I mean, even regular knights don’t usually bother with us, unless it’s for chores.”

“Morgan!”

We all pause to find my roommate, Keva, descending the steps toward us. Panting, she stops a step above me and hands me a bag.

“Your books,” she says. “You forgot to bring them with you.”

Staring incredulously at her, I grab the heavy bag and hoist it onto my back. “Uh…thanks?”

“Maybe if you hadn’t shut her up in the dark, she wouldn’t have forgotten,” Bri says.

The two girls stare at each other for a long moment, and I worry they’re going to go for each other’s throats, when Keva smiles.

“That was an accident,” she says, and she pushes Bri away to stand next to me.

As we make our way down the third floor, I notice people stop in their tracks to stare at me and whisper behind their hands. I feel myself turn crimson, and I accelerate my pace.

We find the rest of the class already seated, though no teacher in sight.

“What happened to Boris?” Keva calls out, dumping her books on the first desk next to the windows.

“How should I know?” a portly boy with a big nose retorts. “Hey, who’s the tall girl with you? Is she some half giant you’ve brought for a presentation?”

The boy and his two friends snort out in laughter.

“Daniel, if you can’t come up with better insults, you may as well shut up. Besides,” Keva adds as I find a seat near the back, “she’s Arthur’s sister, so you better keep your tongue extra civil.”

“Oh yeah?” Daniel says, turning in his seat so he can see me. “How come I’ve never heard of her? Maybe she’s so dumb her family was afraid to show her in public!”

I ignore the jab and pretend to be looking through my books.

“Of course that’s not why,” Keva says, complacent. “Otherwise she wouldn’t have been allowed here. Right, Morgan?”

I sink lower into my seat, wishing she wouldn’t involve me. What am I supposed to say? That they only brought me in after I was accused of killing one of my old classmates?

“I’m just his half sister,” I say instead.

Smiling, Keva draws closer to me, a well-worn notepad open in her hands. “So tell me, what toothpaste does he use? And what’s his soap brand? Does he wear slippers or go barefoot? And what about bedtime?”

“What about bedtime?” I ask.

“Well, what does he wear?” Keva asks, sitting on top of my desk. “Pajamas or the more common shorts and T-shirt? Or better yet”— she lowers her voice to a loud whisper—“does he sleep in the nude?”

“How should I know?” I say, pulling away. “It’s not like I sleep with him.”

“But you live with him,” Keva says.

“As of yesterday,” I retort. “Until then, I was away in Europe.”

Keva’s hand falls limp in her lap. “Yes, but there were summer vacations, and Christmas holidays,” she continues with dogged determination. “I mean, surely you must know something! Did he ever wear braces? Did he get grounded often when he was little?”

“I think I need some fresh air,” I say, rushing outside.

Thankfully, she doesn’t follow me, and I manage to have a respite from the onslaught of questions. Closing my eyes, I lean against the wall and take a shuddering breath.

Surely you’re not having another panic attack because of some crazy fangirl?

“Shut up,” I say. “I don’t need your sarcasm right now.”

But I can’t deny my guardian angel’s right: her probing shows that my family only sent me away to forget all about my existence, and letting others know would be like accepting it, and that would hurt too much.

When I feel I’ve regained some composure, I open my eyes again and see, like a vision from Hell, a large shadow fast approaching, dead silent along the cobbled walls, stretching from floor to ceiling. The half-man, half-animal shape, the long, double-pointed beard, the sniffling and grunting…there’s no doubt about it.