Chapter 16

16

Ilived on a diet of nerves and chewed fingernails, waiting for the first elimination of the semester to arrive.

A month of classes at the Halflings Academy passed alarmingly fast, bringing us closer to the elimination where the school culled the weak links, and I prayed I wasn’t one of them. The first year, as I found out, focused mostly on book work and history until fall break would bring the first cull, followed by a shift in emphasis to spell work and magic.

Magic… The thought excited me.

Unfortunately, I’d never been good at book work. I had a terrible memory and a bad track record with taking tests. Uncle Will had lamented my unfortunate memory many evenings during my internship with his firm, where most of his coworkers had taken to leaving sticky notes of reminders for me to find. Everywhere.

I’d once found a note on the inside of the women’s bathroom stall reminding me to order ink for the office printer.

If I couldn’t remember to order ink then how could I be expected to pass a test on Faerie history and lore? It was all new to me.

Notes wouldn’t help me here. I spent every waking moment of those first four weeks studying, deep in the books and doing my best to memorize everything, and maintaining a constant low level of anxiety. At least my hair wasn’t falling out. Yet.

Fall break would be the first real test to see if I belonged, I thought, biting my nails yet again, surrounded by books.

If I failed now, I had nowhere to go. Nowhere else to turn. So far, luck had been on my side. I hadn’t sensed an inkling of Kendrick Grimaldi or any other member of either pack. There were no more killings, and though Persephone remained an annoyance I found if I stuck to the library when I studied, I rarely saw her.

It became my personal sanctuary.

I also hadn’t heard from Detective Wilson since my interview, nor seen him sniffing around the castle. His business card burned a hole in my pocket all the way back to the dorm and I ended up sticking it into the box with the rest of my potions. It sat there, a reminder, when I opened the lid every thirteen days.

Talk about the dead student in the tree eventually died down and became old news, Loudon’s identity known but the murder unsolved. The police hadn’t found a shred of evidence leading to a culprit. Soon the speculations were only a low simmer as the rest of my class stuck their noses to the books and got down to work.

We all wanted a place here.

Everyone felt the same kind of pressure I did, the pressure to make the cut and move on to our second semester. Outside, the trees began to change color from emerald green—the same color as Mike’s eyes—to dappled shades of red and orange and yellow with the approaching autumn.

Then we were two weeks into October.

The only real problem I’d run into was the food. The damn food—I’d found out the hard way—I couldn’t eat because the academy chef loved garlic the way some people loved chocolate, and the more time passed the more garlic he added to every single dish. I ended up having a salad and fruit most days because I couldn’t take the chance anything else contained his precious garlic.

The big day arrived, and I spent more time than I wanted hyperventilating in a panic. I muttered a curse, struggling to take deep breaths thanks to our laundry service overly starching academy uniforms, the seams and creases too crisp to make for easy movement. The fabric scratched at me. Everywhere.

“Don’t be nervous,” Melia soothed, walking beside me on the way to the auditorium where first-years would be tested.

“How can I not be nervous?” I asked breathlessly. “This is the make or break moment. I’m going to pass out. I can’t breathe.”

She blew a raspberry designed to lighten the mood. “You don’t have to think about it in those terms. This isn’t your make or break moment.”

“Don’t I?” I said with a fake laugh, attempting to moisten my dry mouth. “You’re safe. You’re already almost out of here and on your way toward earning a spot in Faerie.”

“But I remember being in your position,” she replied. “I remember being so crazy out of my mind, I wanted to rip my hair out. In fact, I did. I ended up with a tiny nickel-sized bald spot above my right ear. And you know what?”

“What?”

“It didn’t help me pass my exams. It took forever for the hair to grow back and I had myself going crazy for no reason.” Melia stopped and grabbed me by the shoulders to make her point. “Just concentrate on you. Forget everyone else, forget about the competition aspect of the process. That’s what the professors want you to focus on. They want you worried about everyone else so they have you stressing and they can weed out the weak. Focus on you and your literature because it’s the only way to get through it. Keep your mind sharp and your wits about you.”

I pressed against my roiling stomach. “You tell me this now? Exams are literally five minutes away.”

“Then get in there and kick a little butt, baby girl. You got this!” She sent me on my way with a playful swat on the rear and a smile. It did nothing to settle my nerves but I appreciated her enthusiasm.

Melia believed in me. I couldn’t let her down.

The oddity of the situation struck me as I took a seat, a quill popping out of the air in front of me along with a bottle of black ink. Months earlier I’d planned on finishing up school with the rest of my class, regular shifters like I’d pretended to be. With my friends Dawn and Jason, and together we’d make our plans for the future. College choices. Majors. Normal things.

Now look at me.

The rest of the auditorium went quiet and the silence had mass. It had depth and substance. At one point I remember looking out across the space and trying to find Mike’s familiar head. I wondered how he felt about the tests, and if he did poorly, would his parents force the school to keep him here or would he have to be cut like any other person?

But those thoughts wouldn’t help me pass. They didn’t help me in the least.

I didn’t remember anything about taking the test. The entire three-hour time limit passed in a blur and I wasn’t sure if I answered all the questions or passed out at my seat in a sure flunk.

A week later, the headmaster called an assembly to announce the students who had been cut. I didn’t have any nails left on my hands at this point. I’d chewed them all down to the quick while Melia laughed at me and questioned my eating habits, telling me I’d gotten too skinny from my special diet. Ha ha.

I didn’t remember the assembly, either. Not until it was over and I stood outside the door with the marks sheet in my hand.

I was in the top 25 for the whole class.

Top 25.

Me.

Me?

The next thing I knew, Melia had me by the shoulders yet again, drawing me into a dance of epic proportions that had the others around us grimacing and moving out of the way before we stepped on them.

“Didn’t I tell you? You had nothing to worry about!” she squealed.

“What’s going on?” I said in a daze.

“Girl, you did so well! All your worry for nothing. You only have to stay in the top 100 to be safe, and look at you! You’re in the top 25. You beat my first-year scores by a long mile.” Melia paused, pushing a crazy curl of hair away from her eyes. “What did I get? I think I was in the top 60 or something. Nothing to write home about, not like yours. I knew you were going to do great things.”

“I’m not sure how this happened,” I murmured, allowing her to move my limbs in a loose dance until my heart lodged in my throat.

“Let’s go get celebratory ice cream!” Melia insisted. “You deserve it.”

“Wait a minute. Ice cream? We’re not allowed off campus.”

“Have I taught you nothing so far? Those secret passages, Tavi! One of them leads directly into the kitchen where we can pillage the lunch lady’s personal stash of sweet treats. I do it all the time. They have no clue.”

Melia linked her arm through mine and led me away, the paper hanging limp in my hand.

Top 25…

It had to be some kind of trick.

* * *

No one went home for fall break as I had expected they would. I already had excuses prepared as to why I chose to stay in the dorm instead of visiting my family. There was no one I wanted to see, anyway. Except for Elfwaite. I would have loved to see the pixie and let her know what a crazy twist my life had taken because of her.

“My score was in the top ten,” Persephone gloated later that evening in the dorm. Blond hair fell in long waves down to the small of her back and she ran her brush along the length. “Number 7. Can you believe it?”

“You are beautiful and smart,” one of her friends said in a simpering tone.

I had a book open in my lap. I’d had to adjust to not using a mirror, and since coming to the school, I’d stopped wearing makeup. It did knock my confidence down a bit but not so much to have me worry what someone like Persephone thought of me.

“Good for you,” I whispered under my breath.

She didn’t hear me. She didn’t need to.

Persephone held her hand mirror aloft, staring at herself and watching each brush of her hair with her lips pursed in a perfect pout. “It was never a question of me making it through to next semester,” she continued. “I always knew I would do well. I just didn’t know I would do that well. But then again, my parents expect perfection from me.”

“You’re always so good with tests,” another of her friends gushed.

What a sorry pack of sycophants.

“It’s a question of intelligence. Intelligence and class, both of which I possess in abundance. Not to mention my good looks.” Persephone stared at herself in the mirror. In her reflection she caught sight of me, her eyes narrowing. “But I suppose not everyone can make those same claims.”

Yeah, dig at me again.

“I got top 25. It’s nothing to turn your nose up at,” I replied. And knew immediately. I shouldn’t have given in to her power games. She’d made the remark on purpose, of course, and I fell into her trap.

Something about Persephone’s voice just rubbed me the wrong way and made me want to fight back.

“You might have gotten through with your grades,” she began, brushing her hair until the strands gleamed, “but nothing is going to help you with your hairdo. I mean, look at you, Tavi. Do you always take such pride in looking like you crawled out of a gutter? Your hair is like a rat’s nest. Come on, look at yourself. Maybe you’ll see why we all laugh at you.”

She flashed the mirror in my direction. I glanced over, eyes locking on the glass because I hadn’t been thinking.

I felt my spell shatter.

The same cold washed over me like taking a dunk in a river in winter, my skin rippling and my stomach bending over backwards to make me sick. Oh, no!

Persephone was giggling. “What’s the matter, Tavi? You can’t stand seeing your own reflection? Do you think it’s going to turn you to stone? Maybe we should start calling you Medusa!”

I heard her as through a wall of cement, clawing for the box of potions before anyone noticed something was really wrong with me. My skin itched, squirming, shifting as the spell dissipated to reveal my wolf.

A swell of anger ripped through me and the she-wolf part of me snapped her teeth from inside my head, my dual nature reacting to Persephone’s aggravating cackle. We could rip out her throat, if we want.She’d be nothing but a snack between our teeth. The wolf had been suppressed for too long and would love a chance to attack.

The lid flipped. Ugh, no. I’d only just drank my latest dose the night before. It was too soon, too soon. No choice.

My fingers scrambled over the empty spots, those empty spots for the vials I’d already drank and disposed of.

I chugged the potion with a cough.

I was down to the last of my bottles, all because I’d been careless.