Rise of the Fey (33 page)

“This is so antiquated,” I mutter to myself, as I select a very bony, fatty chicken leg to serve Jennifer.

She frowns as I drop the meat onto her plate, and I smile innocently back at her, knowing it’s going to take her ages to finish her meal if she wants to remain the epitome of elegance.

Savoring my momentary reprieve, I withdraw by the open French doors, eyeing the courtyard with longing. A soft breeze ripples the heavy brocade drapes that frame the doors, bringing with it the heady scent of night jasmine.

I edge closer to the glass door, my eyes drawn towards a group of people standing restlessly by the giant apple tree. Don’t those people know the makeout hedge is off limits? But I quickly realize that the group consists of the four visiting Board members and Irene, and all of them seem to be waiting for something.

That something, I find out a minute later, is Lady Vivian.

“Well met,” the principal says, her soft voice carrying easily over to my ears.

“Well met, indeed,” Lady Parcenet sniffs disdainfully. “You know very well why we’re here and you’re deliberately stalling us.”

“I simply wish to caution against the removal of the Sangraal,” Lady Vivian says, echoing my earlier talk with Keva.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Sir Eric says. “Tempting, isn’t it, to have that much power at your fingertips?”

“You know that is not the reason for my reservations,” Lady Vivian says.

“We wouldn’t have come if we didn’t feel the Sangraal’s security had been compromised,” Sir Pelles says in a conciliatory tone, and the chinless woman next to him nods in agreement.

“By taking the Sangraal to your headquarters you’re bound to draw the Dark Sidhe to you,” Lady Vivian says.

“We can handle the rabble,” Lady Parcenet says haughtily, “unlike your lot.”

“But we believe we’ve found a solution,” someone else says.

I hide further behind the drapes as Arthur appears from around the makeout hedge, Lance and Hadrian still at his sides.

Lady Parcenet looks annoyed at the unwelcome interruption. Her grimace turns into a scowl when Arthur hands Sir Pelles an opened book, and I recognize it as the thin volume Bri found in the library.

“If we rework the wards according to this diagram,” he says, “we believe we could put Carman back where she belongs.”

He hangs back in anticipation as the High Judge scrutinizes the page. Finally, Sir Pelles hands him back the volume.

“It appears to be a containment ward,” the man says carefully. “But it seems to me you’re missing two crucial things: Carman’s true name, and a power source strong enough to contain her.” The judge strokes his beard thoughtfully. “Perhaps if the best of our Order were to use their strongest oghams together…”

Lady Vivian shakes her head. “I’m afraid that even if you were to put all of your oghams together it wouldn’t be enough,” she says. “Carman will be able to sense your spell as soon as you start it, and she will lash out before you have a chance to finish, killing everyone involved.”

“Then what would…” Sir Eric starts.

Lady Parcenet hiccups in shock. “No!” she exclaims.

“We thought this might be an issue,” Arthur says, “which is why we sought you out first. But we fear this may be our only choice, and that is why I hereby formally request the authorization to send a delegation to the Fey.”

Lady Parcenet lets out a sharp squeak.

“I can see your point,” Sir Pelles says after a moment’s reflection. “However, finding a Fey of such power will be a very dangerous enterprise. Not to mention the fact that our relations with them are rather…strained.”

“But such an alliance has been formed before,” Arthur says. “That’s how Carman was imprisoned in the first place.”

“That may be so,” Sir Eric says dismissively, “but I doubt our ancestors had been waging an ongoing war with them at the time.”

“What if I could prove to you that our relations with them might not be as bad as they seem?” Arthur asks.

“Your proposal has its merits, however tenuous it may seem,” Sir Pelles says, “but it is a decision I cannot make alone.”

Arthur bows respectfully. “I thank you for your consideration,” he says. “I will bring it up again with the Council then.”

“Good luck with that,” Lady Parcenet says. “Nobody would be fool enough to allow anyone to get friendly with the enemy, especially with the perpetrator behind the fall of the school wards still on the loose.”

“But you do have a great bargaining tool at your disposition that might be able to tip the scales in your favor,” the chinless woman says, speaking for the first time. “Perhaps an exchange of sorts could be negotiated.”

Arthur tenses up. “No,” he says.

“You may have no choice in the matter,” Sir Eric says, resuming his birdlike head-bobbing.

I lean forward, my breath fogging the glass before me. What are they talking ab—

My hair gets yanked back and I let out a cry of surprise.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jennifer asks. “I’ve called you ten times already, but instead of doing your duty I find you
spying
?”

Her icy blue eyes sweep over the courtyard and I see her pupils contract when they alight upon the Board delegation. Her grip tightens until it feels like my hair’s going to be ripped out of my skull.

“Eyeing things that don’t belong to you again?” she whispers harshly in my ear.

“Which one are you talking about?” I ask back through gritted teeth. “The official one or the secret one?”

Jennifer pushes me into the glass door with a snarl, and one of the windows shatters as I ram headfirst into it.

“Lady Jennifer!” I hear the teacher exclaim in shock.

I wince as I straighten up, blinking at the blood slowly dripping down my face.

“Jealousy is not a good trait to have, you know,” I say, turning to face Jennifer, “as you’ve just demonstrated.”

“You, changeling, need to be taught a lesson in manners,” Sophie says, advancing upon me as the rest of the class crowds in around us.

“This is most outrageous!” I hear Sir Nigel whimper somewhere beyond the wall of students circling me.

“You are a stain on the Squires’ honor,” Jennifer’s pimply-faced squire continues. “Nothing you do can hide the fact that you’re a demon: Ever since you got here, we’ve been hit by one disaster after another. I think that makes it abundantly clear what needs to be done, don’t you?”

“Why don’t you just shut up,” I say, my mouth gone dry, “or this Fey’ll make sure those pustules never leave your face.”

“Squire Morgan!” Sir Nigel’s falsetto says over the din. “Threatening your classmate is inexcusable. You’ve forgotten all about the five knightly virtues: courtesy, piety, chastity, genero—”

“I always knew there was something nasty about you,” Jennifer says, cutting the professor off. “I sensed it the moment Arthur decided to bring you down here.”

“Whatever,” I say with a shrug. “There’s no point talking to a pathetic smellfungus
³⁰
like you.”

I hear someone choke back a laugh, and the pink drains from Jennifer’s cheeks.

“What did you call me?” she asks.

“A smell—fung—us,” I repeat, enunciating every syllable. “An overly critical, ignorant fool. Hasn’t anybody told you only the dumbest of the dumb think they know everything already?”

Jennifer’s hand whips around and connects with my jaw in a thunderous
clap
.

“Guess that hit close to the truth,” I snarl, cupping my burning cheek.

“I know what rankles you,” Jennifer says. “You have the hots for my boyfriend and you hate that he’d never go for you.”

I grin. “I think you have our roles exchanged,” I say. “What is it that bothers you most? That your title’s your only appeal or that he’s been more inclined to spend time with me lately instead of you?”

Jennifer’s eyes blaze with fury. “
Hagalaz
!” she intones, flinging her hand towards me.

I instinctively recoil, expecting a blast of hail to hit me straight on, but nothing happens. Blinking, I lower my arms to find Jennifer’s surprised face staring at me, and burst out in a relieved laughter.

“Did you not charge my ogham back properly?” Jennifer asks her squire through clenched teeth.

“I swear I did,” Sophie whispers back to her. “But a lot of oghams haven’t been functioning lately.”

She looks positively alarmed, and there’s no denying she should be: Jennifer’s bound to have her skinned alive for this, even if the incident isn’t her fault.

“I had heard your title as a knight was only honorary,” I say, redirecting Jennifer’s fury onto me against my better judgment. “I guess I’ve got proof now. That’s the trouble with people who brag without having the skills to back it up, it always ends up biting them back in the ass.”

Maybe it’s because I’m still somewhat disoriented from cutting my head on the door, compounded with Jennifer’s slap, or
maybe it’s because I’ve gotten too cocky myself, but I don’t see Jennifer spring towards me. Her knee suddenly digs sharply into my stomach, and air whooshes out of my lungs.

Gasping, I slowly sink to the floor as a tingling sensation starts deep in my guts and quickly travels through my veins, eager to be let out.

No, I tell myself, willing my energy back into its hole. Not now…not here….

“That’s right, cower at her feet, you disgusting piece of trash!” Sophie yells, spittle flying out of her mouth.

I curl up as she kicks me, her booted foot breaking my nose upon contact and splitting my lip, before she stomps hard on my chest. I scream in pain as I feel one of my ribs crack, the sound drowned out by the cheering crowd.

“Stop,” I breathe, tears flowing down my cheeks. “
Please!
”

“They should’ve cut out your tongue,” Jennifer says, as her squire kicks me in the stomach, redoubling the jubilant cries of the excited classroom.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying desperately to hold onto my power before it can pulverize the ballroom. My ears start to buzz, or is that a hiss?

There’s a sudden scream and the kicking stops abruptly.

“It bit me!” Sophie shrieks.

Someone shakes me. “Morgan!” Keva shouts in my ear. “Morgan, are you OK?”

I slowly uncurl from my fetal position and gasp in pain.

“I’ve called for help,” Keva says, as I blink back tears, my powers still whirling within me, demanding to be released.

I lick my cracked lips, tasting blood. “Wh-what happened?”

“A snake bit Sophie,” Keva says, helping me up. “She’s on the floor and—”

“Move away from her!” Jennifer snarls, stepping towards us.

Her face is twisted in an ugly rage. I see her reach under her skirt, then something metallic gleams in her hand. I watch in horror as Jennifer aims her gun at me, Keva still oblivious to what’s going on.

“No!” I yell, shoving Keva to the side as the gun fires.

I feel my head snap back, glass exploding behind me as I fall backward, then agonizing pain blooms behind my eyes, and all goes black.

The whole earth is shaking. A man in a hazmat suit is drilling right next to me, the jackhammer bouncing up and down in rapid successions, the ambient red light reflecting off the machine’s dull surface.


I’m back inside the tent.


The light flickers and the man pauses. What is he trying to dig up? The red light goes back on for another long second before going out completely.


“What the heck, Arch?” the man calls out, his voice muffled by his mask. “I’m not done here!”


The man’s heavy footsteps move away from me, towards the exit. Suddenly, I hear him grunt, before two loud thumps tell me he’s fallen to the ground.


My eyes dart about the darkness frantically, my heart racing. I can feel something close by, reaching for me.


“Don’t touch me!” I scream, but no sound comes out.


A shower of sparks blazes in the air in front of me and I hear a sharp yelp. But in the brief light, I saw a familiar profile. Nibs?


“At last,” the clurichaun breathes, jubilant.


There’s a
click
as he flicks a lighter on, its tiny flame barely dispelling the shadows on his scarred face. Nibs’s long fingers reach out then, but stop a handspan away, as if fearful of touching me.


“Not quite done though,” Nibs says to himself, licking his lips in excitement. “But soon.”


His face draws nearer until his eyes look like golden crystal balls. He sniffs, pulls away, then lets out a high-pitched giggle.


“Oh, yes,” he says, “very soon! I can feel the power building.”


He releases his hold on the lighter and the ball of light winks out of existence, plunging me back into complete and utter darkness.