Page 20 of Fae Trials

His gaze skimmed my wings. “The remedial class has weekends off when you’ll be free to roam the Mound as you please.”

“Alright, then.” I clapped my hands together. “Let’s go.”

* * *

There was a mirror underneath the stack of clothes, and I stared into it, gaping at the new me. My mousy hair shone like spun gold, framing crystal-blue eyes set within a heart-shaped face. The dark faerie had even made my lips plump and colored them a rosy pink. Shit, I looked terrific.

After I changed into my new uniform, Gladiolus led me through a luxurious jailhouse of crystal chandeliers and out into the courtyard. An antique hearse-style carriage painted the same deep purple as my skirt waited on the white tiles along with two black horses with wings like polished jet.

The morning sun shone down from a cloudless sky, and the distant sound of seagulls drifted across a rosemary-scented breeze. On mornings like these, my sister and I would stroll through the market, bartering DVDs of Survivor, which neither of us particularly liked.

Gladiolus paused at the door of the carriage, which was gilded with the royal crest. “Can you retract your wings?”

I twisted around and glowered at the appendages flapping behind my back like I was some kind of overgrown butterfly. “They have a mind of their own.”

“Once you access your power, you’ll be able to make them disappear.” Gladiolus opened the door and stepped into the carriage’s blue velvet interior.

My brows furrowed. Elijah’s wings were always on display, but he never demonstrated any magic and never mentioned having taken remedial classes. But then, no royal fae ever had dragonfly wings.

Once we settled into the plush, velvet seat, the horses broke into a gallop out of the courtyard and down the road. I dug my fingers into the seat cushion, tightening my stomach at the speed. The fastest I’d ever traveled was on the back of a centaur. When they weren’t trying to buck you off, it was the safest possible method of transport.

The forest blurred through the windows as the carriage picked up speed. Up ahead, the road ended in a cliff. My pulse pounded so loud, it muffled Gladiolus’s murmured question. I wanted to open the door, to leap out to safety, but flying horses pulled carriages through the sky every day, and I was just being stupid.

Slowing my breath, I waited for the inevitable. The hoofs no longer pounded the cobblestones, and with a mighty lurch, the carriage flew through the air and over the Mound’s lower levels.

“Do you remember having flown before?” asked Gladiolus.

Twisting around, I gazed down at the rapidly shrinking landscape of white buildings surrounded by forestland.

That question could either refer to flying in a carriage or with my wings. Since I’d done neither, I said, “No, sir.”

From up high, the Mound wasn’t just a huge mountain range that took up most of the island. It was seven concentric circles. Each indicated a different level of the faerie hierarchy.

At the very bottom was the Charity region, where the more bestial fae dwelled, such as the centaurs and satyrs. They couldn’t wield spells, but they had brute strength and were impervious to magic. My thoughts drifted to Coltrane, who I hoped hadn’t hurt himself too severely on the tree trunk.

“You’ll get a refresher on flying, of course,” Gladiolus said. “But your muscle memory will speed things along, and you’ll be whizzing through the air in no time.”

“Right,” I said, playing along.

Gladiolus continued an extended monologue about what he expected of me at the Royal Fae Academy, but his words didn’t reach my ears. Something about those dark faeries niggled the back of my mind.

Dark faeries powerful enough to change reality had been imprisoned after King Oberon defeated Queen Maeve. Did that mean they had escaped, or did it mean that they hadn’t been deemed dangerous enough to banish?

“Sir?” I asked.

“Yes, child?”

“Where’s the Dark Fae Prison?”

He pursed his lips. “Still thinking about those false memories? You need to forget about them and move on.”

I clenched my teeth. It was easy for him to say when no one had ever wiped him and his only family out of existence. Forcing a smile and trying to sound willing to accept his version of the truth, I murmured, “They were just so detailed.”

“Josiah Whittaker was in your position a few decades ago.” Gladiolus leaned back in the plush seat, giving me what he probably thought was a kindly smile. “He teaches the remedial class and will guide you through the process of acclimatization.”

I turned back to the window, stared down into the forests below, and tried not to sigh. It wasn’t like I had any choices. Mrs. Yates now occupied our home, and I doubted anyone else would remember we’d ever existed. Maybe I would learn something useful at the academy to locate Sicily.

Below us, a little waterfall tumbled out from a gap in the woods into a stream that shimmered in the morning sun like freshly polished turquoise. Strangely, the sight of such beauty gave me a bit of hope. If I existed with my memories intact, there was a chance that she was also out there, pining for her old life.