Page 55 of Fae Trials

Beyond the garden’s low walls, a vast meadow stretched out to the woods, and wingless horses, goats, and golden sheep stood around in groups and grazed. Helen whistled, and two dappled horses trotted to the bottom of the garden, both staring at us through their long lashes.

“Where’s the nearest entrance to the Mound?” I asked as we walked through the tables.

She patted the paler horse on its snout. “There’s a gatehouse about half an hour into Prudence Woods on horseback. Can you remember how to ride?”

“Um…” I stared into the black eyes of the darker horse, whose pale mane reminded me a little of Coltrane, the horny centaur. “I shouldn’t have any problems.”

We climbed over the low wall and mounted the horses, which were surprisingly tame. As we cantered through the meadow along a path that cut through patches of assorted wildflowers, bluebells that tinkled a merry tune in the breeze, and silver petaled plants that resembled moonflowers, I turned to Helen and asked, “Won’t the wards stop us from leaving?”

Morning sunlight turned the highlights in her burnt orange hair golden, and a stiff breeze blew it into her eyes. She tucked her locks behind her ears and laughed. “The Royal Fae Academy isn’t a prison. We can leave at any time as long as we can catch up on our work.”

My brows rose. “What’s on the schedule today?”

Up ahead, a row of kissing trees twisted together in patterns so intricate, it was hard to tell where one shrub began and the other ended.

Helen ducked her head to gallop under a low-hanging branch. “Just more of the same.”

I galloped after her. “Does anyone ever graduate from the remedial class?”

“It’s rare,” she said over her shoulder, guiding the horse around a low shrub. “Magic isn’t something that’s taught. You either have it, or you don’t.”

“Then why bother—”

She slowed to a trot, letting me catch up with her pale horse. The path ahead widened to accommodate two riders. “Our class is a dumping ground. A place to hold broken faeries and unwanted half-bloods until high society decides their fate.”

I grimaced at the word. Fate. Destiny. Future. They all sounded like curses. We continued through the well-trodden path flanked by sycamore trees on both sides, whose seeds spiraled down to us like the helicopters that sometimes landed on the United Nation’s offshore rigs.

The gaps between the trees grew narrower, forming a dense canopy that blotted out the sun, and the air grew heavy and thick. Our horses slowed, looking like they were struggling to move forward against a strong wind, but there was no hurricane, only still air.

“What’s happening?” I shouted.

Helen pulled on her reins, making her horse rear. “It’s a trap. Turn back!”

Before I could react, my horse froze in mid-stride, along with the rest of my body.

Chapter 16

Shock morphed into terror, which crept across my skin like the caress of a thousand tiny talons. My chest tightened to the point where my lungs on took in the shallowest of breaths, and my eyes widened. The canopy thickened, blocking out the remaining streams of sunlight and plunging Helen and me into darkness.

“Helen?” I whispered, trying to turn my head.

At the edge of my vision, Helen dangled in mid-air off the rearing horse, looking a second away from being trampled. Shit. I pulled at my arms, strained at the invisible force holding me in place, but it wouldn’t budge. The only thing I could move was my jaws.

“Who’s out there?” I shouted into the woods.

The twitter of a mockingbird was my only answer. “Who’s out there?” it cried. “Who-who-who!”

Mockingbirds occasionally ventured down to populated areas, usually on days when the fog got so thick, you couldn’t tell a dwarf from an ogre. They loved to lure children away from their homes by pretending to be playmates. I squeezed my eyes shut then opened them again. This couldn’t be a glamor. Few were powerful enough to make a person think they couldn’t move.

“Well, well, well,” drawled a mocking voice that certainly didn’t belong to a bird.

“Gala,” I snarled. And for reasons I couldn’t fathom, the tightness of my skin eased. She wanted me dead, but I doubted that she had the guts to kill a person up close and in cold blood.

Lady Gala stepped out from behind a thick trunk with Lady Aster at her heels. The curvy, crimson-haired faerie wrinkled her nose as though the sight of me on the back of a horse filled the woods with an unpleasant stench.

“What do you two want?” I said. “The next trial is oral sex.”

“Which I’m certain you will win,” said Lady Gala. “We all saw how you swallowed the janitor’s sword.”