The moon was still in the sky when Zephyr slipped out of his suite. It was not yet morning, although his suitemate was only recently asleep. Creed had crept into their suite somewhere around midnight after another excursion to the garden. In a few days, his moonbathing and sunbathing would restore him to health, and as long as he abstained from the bad habits he seemed to cherish on holidays, he’d be as strong as ever.
It was one thing to occasionally behave like humans to avoid accusations of fae-blood, but Creed took it too far. He cycled between self-destruction and purification repeatedly throughout the year. Something in his life drove him toward self-destruction over and over. The whole group saw it, but so far, no one had gotten anywhere when they’d asked him about it. He’d been worse the past few months than ever
before. If they were the sort of friends who talked, Zephyr would try harder to find out what had set Creed into such a spin, but Creed was as likely to throw a punch as to walk away.
So far, Zephyr had been able to let them do as they wanted. That was all about to change. Now that Lilywhite was with them, they’d start receiving regular orders from the queen. Whatever the queen demanded, they’d do. That was why he needed to get his team in order. They would obey, or they would be “retired.”
But he was too far ahead of himself. First, he had to report to the Queen of Blood and Rage. There was a protocol that he’d been drilled on repeatedly. His handler, Clara, stressed the points at which he was required to visit the Hidden Lands. Lilywhite’s arrival was uppermost on that list.
Silently, Zephyr walked up to the back wall of the West Tower. The old buildings that made up St. Columba’s all retained a fairy-tale quality. The entire campus had once been a monastery, but time and traditions had changed and so the monastery was turned into a school for the wealthy.
From residents who took vows of poverty to those who lived lives of indulgence, the change was almost too great to ponder. Zephyr sometimes thought he would have preferred the former. He’d miss the comfort of money, but he wouldn’t miss the attention it drew. There was a feeling of history, energy perhaps, that lingered from the long-gone monks, as if they’d left behind some sense of purpose that
filled those who lived here then and now. He
needed
that—or maybe it just felt that way to Zephyr. Like the monks, he had a purpose; he never needed to guess about what he was meant to do. The queen would tell him, and he would serve her wishes. He’d been born to do this. Literally.
He stroked a hand over the leaves that crept and twined together across the dimly lit wall. Most students had no idea that the thick vines covered a section of stone that accessed a network of tunnels. Unless one could
ask
the vines to part, there was no way to tell the passage existed and still keep it secret—since a human hacking through the growth would’ve been detected.
Zephyr willed the plants to separate for him, thanking them for their kindness and asking if they would hide his exit. With a welcome rustle the plants divided, exposing the hidden door to the mouth of the main passageway. Zephyr pushed the stone that would expose the latch, lifted it, and shoved.
The door scraped open and Zephyr quickly stepped into a dark tunnel.
The air smelled of dampness and age, and he wondered—not for the first time—what the monks had feared. Escape tunnels weren’t built by those without enemies. A fleeting thought of Lilywhite made him wonder if her homes had such hidden exits as well. When he’d first discovered his heritage, he wondered if that was why
his
parents had exit tunnels, but then Clara told him that he was a changeling and that his parents had no idea that he was fae. They, like
the parents of all of the Sleepers, assumed that some latent fae DNA had surfaced in them. They protected him all the same.
After Zephyr pulled the door to the passages shut behind him, he flicked on the small light he carried in his pocket and followed one of the twisting routes to the other end. The tunnel curved and eventually this path came to narrow spiraling steps that descended two stories and dead-ended.
He’d figured out how to open it years ago, and he no longer had to look to find the stone that hid the giant key. He pried the stone out, retrieved the key, and opened the door. There were other passages. The one he typically followed led to the grounds outside campus. Tonight, however, although he
was
leaving campus, he was doing so via a route that was inaccessible to all but those who had the fae permission to enter the Hidden Lands—and the knowledge of tunnels at the very edge of the grounds of the campus, past the hedge maze, where only the Sleepers ever ventured.
Zephyr took his shoes off and set them on the floor at the end of the tunnel. Then, barefoot, he opened the door and closed it heavily behind him. The air tasted purer after the musty stone passageway.
He walked to the wall surrounding the private reflecting garden that was strictly off-limits even to the most indulged students. Here the walls were covered with roses. Again, he asked the plants to permit his access. Instead of parting, they shifted into a ladder of thorns and blossoms.
“As you will,” Zephyr whispered to them.
He ascended the rose ladder, wincing as the thorns pierced his feet and hands. There was no use in trying to avoid grabbing the vine where the barbs jutted out. If he did, they shifted toward him.
Small cuts marked his palms and wrists. Tiny droplets of blood seeped from his feet as he walked, but the cuts weren’t deep enough to do more than sting. They were hardly worth noticing.
Inside the garden, he began to pace, seeking one of the circles of toadstools that appeared when he needed to access the other realm. He walked and waited, calling out to the soil, asking for a doorway.
Finally, in between one heartbeat and the next, it appeared in the dew-wet grass. He wasn’t sure how the circle worked. He didn’t state a destination, simply went where it sent him. Once, he’d appeared on the shore of an island, seals rolling in the surf. Another time, he’d been at the edge of a forest where flickering lights seemed to beckon him nearer.
Quickly, before it vanished, he stepped into the circle, exhaled, and stepped out in the Hidden Lands. Today, he was at the edge of an expanse of slick black rock that glistened like ice. He let the feel of it, the weight and the age of it, speak to him until he knew what it was.
Obsidian.
It was a rock sharp as glass, made for sacrifices, carved into blades by both fae and mortals alike.
As he walked across a surface of the sacrificial rock, the small cuts on his feet continued to leave a trail. He wasn’t
sure where he was headed, only that these tests were inevitable. He faced a new one every time he came to the land of the fae. This time, no matter how long he walked, the path seemed no shorter.
Finally, Zephyr looked back, and when he did, he saw that his blood had hardened into dozens of sparkling gems. He wasn’t sure what to do with them, but he understood that this was part of the test too.
“If I were a jeweler,” he whispered, “I’d string them together for my queen.”
At his words, the blood-drop gems skidded across the stone. He approached the pile as it coalesced into an ornate necklace on the ground in front of him. It was beautiful. Dark rubies fell into a jagged point as if they were strung on an invisible net, but at the center was a vacancy. The net was incomplete.
“Not yet worthy.” He looked around until he saw a series of sharp spires of obsidian. “I
want
to be worthy.”
Taking the necklace in hand, he walked over to the blade-like stones. He lowered the necklace to the ground, carefully spreading out the stones. Then, he stood and slid both palms over the dark blade, cutting gashes in his hands.
He knelt on the ground and squeezed his hands together over the center of the necklace. The blood ran from his skin into the void of the necklace, where it hardened into a large oval ruby.
“Well done,” a voice pronounced.
And there she was at last, the Queen of Blood and Rage,
his savior and executioner. Her beauty was akin to terrors that left lands decimated and trembling. Her hair, so dark it appeared to be scattered with stars, flowed behind her like a cloak. Her eyes, so cold they made him want to run in terror, watched him intently. Her tiny feet were bare, and she wore armor the color of blood near hardened, neither red nor black but a hue that hovered between. Zephyr had the fleeting thought that the armor was dyed in blood. Stories of her cruelty had often been whispered, but he believed in her. She’d be the one to save them.
No one was with her. It was simply
her
, standing alone on the vast expanse of black rock.
Zephyr lowered himself farther. Clara had taught him the etiquette for this encounter by putting her boot on the back of his head and forcing his face into the dirt. There was no dirt here, only stone as sharp as knives.
“You made me a gift.”
“I did, my queen.” He held his arm up, the red jewels spilling over his fingers as he offered them to her. “It’s not worthy, but I offer it . . . offer
myself
to you, to the Unseelie Court.”
“The courts are united,” she said.
“And as long as they are, I serve both. Should that change, I will still serve my queen.”
“None of the Sleepers know which court birthed them, yet you call me
your
queen.” She didn’t lift her voice, but he was still fairly sure it was a question.
“It is my hope and desire that I belong to you,” he admitted.
“So you want to be Unseelie, young Zephyr?” Her voice lightened, as if she were amused. She took the necklace, sliding it from his hand into hers.
“I do.” He dared look up at her. “I exist to serve you.”
For a moment, the queen’s lips curved into a smile, and her beauty made him swallow nervously. Nothing he’d ever glimpsed in the world was as exquisite . . . or as terrifying.
“Tell me of the others.”
And so he did. He stayed on his knees as he spoke about every member of his team, rapidly outlining their strengths and their courage. He spoke of Violet’s ferocity, of Will’s stealth, of Roan’s cleverness. He spoke of Creed’s courage and Alkamy’s grace. He didn’t mention their weaknesses; he only spoke of their abilities and of his own.
When he was done, the queen said, “And Lilywhite? You say nothing of her.”
“We’ve only just met,” he hedged. “I came to you as soon as she arrived, as I was instructed to do by Clara.”
The Unseelie Queen stepped close enough that she could tuck one of her bare feet under his knee. It was an odd gesture, and he wasn’t sure if she meant to injure him or merely get closer.
“I dislike secrets,” she told him quietly. “Stand.”
He obeyed.
She cupped his face in her hands. Despite the chill in
her eyes, her skin was hot enough that he wanted to cry out in pain. He didn’t. The necklace of blood rubies dangled from her hand. It was pressed into his cheek and draped along his throat. He suspected it was burning marks on his flesh.
“Tell me,” she said.
“She knows nothing of us,” he admitted. “She didn’t join us before now because she didn’t know . . . anything.”
The queen said nothing for almost a full minute. They stood with her hands on his face and the blood-wrought necklace searing his skin. He ground his teeth together to keep from asking for mercy.
“It is as I feared then.” The queen released him and turned her back. The ruby necklace clattered to the stone between them. “You will bring her here before the next cycle of the moon.”
And then she left without waiting for his reply.
“Yes, my queen,” he whispered into the once-more empty air.
He wasn’t sure whether to leave the necklace or take it. He had no use for it, but the queen had seemingly refused it. Silently, he scooped it up. They might look like rubies, but those stones were his blood. He wasn’t entirely sure what they could be used for, but he was very certain that he shouldn’t let his blood fall into just anyone’s possession.
Zephyr turned away. He had his first direct order from the queen, and it wasn’t a simple task like setting a bomb. Kidnapping the daughter of a criminal who had no desire
to spill her secrets seemed unwise—but disobeying the Queen of Blood and Rage seemed even more foolhardy.
Somehow, he would have to gain Lilywhite’s trust. He clutched the blood necklace in his hand and whispered a silent prayer to whatever deity listens to faeries. Then he headed back to the toadstool gate.
Lily didn’t expect the first night at St. Columba’s to be so difficult. Alkamy showed her around and talked about a few of her friends.
“You’ve heard of Creed and Zephyr, I’m sure. You’d have to live under a rock to avoid their names.” Alkamy paused. “Vi is in film, so you’ve seen her on the screen or in pictures with the boys or with me.”
“I have,” Lily agreed.
“Vi isn’t back yet, but she’s been the only other girl really until you got here.” Alkamy shrugged as if her lack of female friends didn’t bother her. “She’s more of a friend than a sister. The boys, on the other hand, are like brothers . . . or maybe annoying cousins.”
“Really? Even Zephyr?”
“That’s the past,” Alkamy said with a stiff expression.
“So, if you were interested—”
“I like Creed’s music,” Lily interjected, cutting off that topic before it could get any weirder.
“You’d never know that Zephyr has any skills other than looking pretty, but he does.” Alkamy stared at Lily with a singular focus that was reminiscent of both of the boys. “Don’t underestimate him.”
“So you
aren’t
over him . . .”
“We’re not meant to be,” Alkamy said.
Lily heard the omissions in her words as clearly as the words themselves. Alkamy
loved
Zephyr. Why they weren’t “meant to be” was beyond her. She lapsed into silence for several moments before prompting, “So, you, Violet, Creed, and Zephyr, is that everyone?”
“There’s Will and Roan too.” Alkamy paused then and gestured at a closed door. “This is the dining hall. It’s surprisingly good. Organic produce, grass-fed hormone-free beef, healthy stuff, you know? Plus, they meet every dietary restriction. Non-dairy? Non-meat? All meat? No carbs? Low-carbs? Raw food? Whatever it is, they can supply it.”
Lily nodded. Her father had already told her all of this in one of his Columba’s-is-good chats.
“So Will’s mom is some politician. Roan’s family is in pharmaceuticals”—Alkamy shot an uncomfortable look at Lily—“like
legal
ones.”
Lily couldn’t help it. She snickered.
Alkamy sputtered, “Look. I didn’t want to be rude, and . . . Oh,
stop
it, Lily.”
Lily had barely stopped when their eyes met, and then they both started giggling.
“I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me,” Alkamy said when their laughter abated. “I really
can
be tactful. Usually.”
Lily waved her apology away. “My father has been in the public eye since well before I was born. I know what people say,
and
I know what he does. His associates are around like an extended family the way some people have uncles or cousins.”
Alkamy looked very serious for a moment. “So until you got here today . . . did you know any
normal
people?”
“You mean rock divas like you?” Lily teased. “Or boys like Zephyr and Creed who have been on every gossip show? Or future CEOs like Roan? Or politicians’ kids like Will?”
“Point taken.” Alkamy leaned on the wall. “I’ve decided: I’m glad I met you, Just Lily.”
Lily looked at her again and realized that Alkamy was exhausted. She looked like Lily did the few times she’d been exposed to toxins. For a moment, Lily wondered if all of the students at Columba’s were fae-blood, but that was highly unlikely. Far more realistic was the idea that Alkamy’s small group of friends were all fae-blood.
“Why don’t we head back?” Lily suggested.
Alkamy flashed her a grateful smile. “I’ll give you more of the tour this week. Most everyone gets back tomorrow, so you can meet the boys. Vi’s delayed, but we should be able to help you get settled.”
Lily shook her head. “Go to bed, Kamy. You can demonstrate your great skills at normalcy tomorrow.”
Once they were back in the suite, Alkamy waved and wandered into her bedroom.
Lily closed her own door and curled up in her own bed. It wasn’t late, but she’d had enough excitement to last her a while. The quiet and calm of her room were a welcome respite from the onslaught of surprises today.
She managed to sleep for a few hours, but she’d woken restless and bored. The sun wasn’t yet up, but Lily wasn’t tired enough to roll back over . . . which was why she found herself roaming empty hallways. Lily had no friends other than Erik. She had no one to call. Her closest confidante was Daidí, and he was out of the country. That left her with nothing to do but explore the buildings.
Lily had wandered to the other side of the administration building and into the walkway that connected it to the second dorm. That dorm was the not-very-originally-named West Tower. Like the East Tower, it was connected to the main offices via a walkway on the second floor. There was a doorway to the building, but as Lily understood it, all access to the dorms had to go through the administration hall after hours and on any of the holidays. Since campus wasn’t technically open yet, that meant that all in and out traffic for both dorms went through the main hall.
A rustling sound drew her attention, and she pressed into the shadows as best she could. The greenery covering one wall parted, and when it did, a door was revealed.
Stepping out of that door was Zephyr Waters.
He hadn’t seen her yet, and Lily couldn’t decide if she was less likely to be caught by staying still or fleeing. He turned his back to her to pull the stone door shut. The door scraped across the floor with a rasp, and the plants fell closed with a swish of leaves. A flash of red dangled from Zephyr’s hand. At first, she thought it was blood dripping, but a second look revealed it to be an ornate ruby necklace. Before she could wonder over the sight of Zephyr Waters creeping back onto campus with a priceless necklace in hand, he turned, saw her, and smiled.
“Lilywhite,” he greeted. “I’m touched. There’s usually no one to wait up for me.”
“I wasn’t . . .” She shook her head. Obviously, he knew she hadn’t been waiting up for him. Stepping forward, Lily surrendered the brief cover of shadows and said, “You were sneaking out.”
“
In
, actually. I went out a while ago.” He sent her a smile that was far more endearing than she would have liked.
Lily turned and walked away. Whatever rules he broke were his business.
Abernathy Commandment #11: Know when to walk away from trouble.
Zephyr was trouble, and she had no need to get involved with it. So far, she’d seen him twice: once when he was smiling over an explosion he’d set and once when he was sneaking back into campus.
“Whoa!” He ran after her. “I was joking about you waiting.”
“I know.” Lily kept walking.
He kept pace with her. “I think we got off to a bad start.”
Lily frowned. “Why are you following me?”
“Accompanying,” he corrected. “I’m accompanying you because I thought we could talk.”
His voice had a cajoling tone, and he smiled again. He was probably used to that smile working on people. If it didn’t, his easy manner and his name undoubtedly would. In a low voice, Lily told him, “I have no intention of telling anyone that I saw you here
or
that I know what happened at the harbor.”
“No one would believe you if you did.” Zephyr reached for her hand, but she jerked away. “Do you want to go to breakfast?”
“It’s still the middle of the night,” she pointed out.
“So we go to a club first. They stay open all night here.” He shrugged. “You liked the pier, right? We’ll walk down there.”
“I can’t. I don’t have permission to leave campus.”
Zephyr glanced pointedly behind them at the vine-covered wall. “There are other exits.”
Lily was tempted. There was no way to deny that. It wasn’t
him
but the idea of going out that lured her. Being close to the water always made her feel better, and a walk wasn’t the same as friendship.
More importantly, knowing about his secret exit would be useful.
Abernathy Commandment #15: Always have a way out, more than one if possible.
Even if she didn’t use it, knowing
she could was worth the tentative peace with Zephyr.
“Don’t you need to do something with that?” She nodded toward the necklace.
“Do you want it?”
Lily’s mouth opened in a gasp before she managed to say, “Are you mental? You can’t just give that to the first girl you bump into.”
“I wouldn’t,” he said levelly. “I’d only give it to a friend.”
“Well, that’s not me.”
He shoved the necklace in his pocket like it was a cheap bit of trash and met her eyes. “So, breakfast?”
She nodded.
Wisely, he said nothing as they walked back toward the hidden door. He gestured at it, not looking her way, and the vines parted for him. She’d never met anyone else who could do that. Part of her wanted to ask him why he was showing her his secret. The more reasonable part knew to keep her mouth shut.
Abernathy Commandment #7: Secrets are valuable. Don’t part with them for free.
Zephyr pushed open the door and stepped inside. For a moment, he was consumed by shadows, but then he reached out, extending one hand behind him. Silently, Lily took his hand and stepped into what appeared to be a hidden tunnel.
As soon as she was inside and the door was shut, she tried to pull her hand free of his grasp. Partly, she wanted to touch the wall, to ask the old stone for anything it could
share, and partly, she didn’t want to let Zephyr hold on to her.
He squeezed her hand in his. “I have a meager bit of light here, Lilywhite.”
“Lily,”
she stressed.
“Lily,” he repeated quietly. “The tunnel twists, and eventually, you’ll need to descend a very narrow staircase.” His breath brushed against her shoulder, stirring her hair. “I’d rather not have to explain just how the notorious Nicolas Abernathy’s daughter broke a leg on her first night here.”
Despite her issues with him, Lily laughed. “I’m not sure you’d want to explain to Daidí what I was doing off campus either.”
She wouldn’t call the silence that followed
comfortable
,
but it was a lot more so than when she’d first met him. She had an opportunity here: she could understand what he meant when he said he was looking for her, and she could learn an escape route from campus. Lily noted the tricks she needed to remember in order to exit through the tunnels.
Zephyr appeared aware of her water affinity, and he clearly was aligned with soil. A part of her wanted to ask Zephyr what he knew about their shared heritage, but his fae blood and the explosion earlier combined to let her know that he was somehow involved with the war.
That alone was reason to stay silent, so she did.
They’d only been walking for a few minutes when a voice from the darkness drawled, “Odd time for a walk, isn’t it?”
Zephyr sighed so softly that she wouldn’t have heard him if she’d been a step farther away.
“Creed Morrison.” He stepped forward, introducing himself as if they hadn’t spent part of the afternoon talking. “And you are?”
She had already decided to play along when he’d confessed that he’d kept their first meeting secret, so she met his gaze now and said, “Lily Abernathy.”
Creed looked at Zephyr, and his voice hardened as he asked, “Tell me, fair Lily, are you in need of a rescue?”
“No, actually.” She nodded toward Zephyr. “He was breaking out and offering to show me how to get off campus.”
“Ah. Strict parents?”
“Protective,” she said. “If I read correctly, though, yours aren’t?”
He wagged a finger at her. “Someone is a tabloid fan, I see.”
Lily shrugged, unembarrassed, and a little amused at their game. “I’ve been home-schooled via private tutors since I was old enough for lessons. What can I say? I get bored.”
“Oh, me too,” Creed confessed. “That’s how I end up in all of those rags.”
She laughed.
“Maybe you should go back to campus,” Zephyr suggested. “You couldn’t have slept very long. I heard you stumble in before I left.”
Creed shrugged. “I napped. I left.”
“Go back to campus,” Zephyr said.
“I’d rather he stay,” Lily interjected.
There was a long silence, and a meaningful look passed between the two boys.
“Well then,” Creed drawled. “You heard Lily. I’ll be staying, but if
you
want to head back, feel free.”
“I wouldn’t want Lilywhite left stranded when you go off to get drunk again or meet up with some—”
“You might be my
boss
, Zeph, but that’s only if I decide to stay in your little clubhouse.”
Lily shivered at the tone of his voice. She’d spent enough time around her father’s associates to know the difference between genuine threat and mere posturing. Creed wasn’t posturing. Softly, she pointed out, “Maybe
I
should head back. I’d rather not be photographed with either of you, now that I think about it.”
At that, Creed released her and shucked his hoodie. “Here. Just pull the hood up. We can protect your privacy. We do it all the time with Vi and sometimes with Will.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He was very obviously being warned off from her—by someone who had no right to make that decision for her. She might decide to only be friends with Creed, but Zephyr wasn’t going to decide it for her. No one made rules for her life other than Daidí, and even that was often open for discussion.
Abernathy Commandment #1: Choices matter.
Silently, she accepted Creed’s shirt and tugged it on. It
fell past her hips, and the sleeves hung down over her hands. Creed reached out, took her wrist, and rolled the sleeve until her fingertips were exposed. Then he repeated the gesture on the other arm.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered loudly. “He’s just grumpy a lot.”
Zephyr sighed again. “Can we not play games tonight?”
“I think he’s on his man-cycle,” Creed whispered even louder.
Lily smothered a laugh. Even now, Creed made her feel safer and more nervous all at once. Zephyr’s kiss hadn’t given her the flurry of angry bees in her stomach that the mere brush of Creed’s fingertips on her skin evoked. She stared at him as he reached out and pulled the hood of his shirt up so it fell around her face like a monk’s cowl.
When Creed paused to tuck her hair around her face, Zephyr’s voice shattered the tension that had been building in her again. “Step back,” he ordered.