The Faerie Prince (Creepy Hollow, #2) (5 page)

“So,” Zinnia says loudly. “Who’s ready for a cupcake?”

I stand up, my chair scraping back against the floor. I look at Ryn, then tilt my head toward the door.

“Are you trying to say something, V? A problem with your neck, maybe?”

Calla smacks him on the hand with the lid of the card box. “She wants you to go into the other room with her, stupid.”

“Oh, really?” He grins at his little sister. “Thanks, Cal. I never would have guessed.”

With a barely disguised groan of frustration, I head out to the sitting room. Ryn follows me, closes the door, and leans against the wall beside it, refusing to meet my gaze.

“Okay, look,” I say. “We have to figure out a way to work together. It’s not fun, but I know it’s not impossible either because we managed to do it when we rescued Calla. So all you have to do is pretend this assignment is as important as saving her life, and we’ll be fine.”

Ryn tightens his arms over his chest, but says nothing.

“Hello?” I wave a hand in front of his face. “Anyone in there?”

“I don’t know how to do this!” he says, abruptly throwing his hands up. He pushes himself away from the wall and sits down on the arm of a couch. “I don’t know how to be your friend.”

Well. That was unexpected. I sit down in the armchair opposite him. I try to think of something to say, but nothing seems right.

“When I sat on your bed and asked if we could be friends, I meant it,” he says. “I still want that. It’s just . . . I’m so used to not only ignoring you, but also
intentionally
trying to hurt you, that . . . I don’t know how to be nice.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” I run a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry. I guess I have a bit of a problem with that too. It’s kind of like my first instinct when I’m around you.”

He looks up, managing half a smile. “I know what you mean.”

“So, how about we aim for somewhere in the middle?” I suggest.

He considers that for a moment. “And ‘the middle’ would entail . . . fun insults instead of mean ones?”

I match his half-smile. “We could try that.”

Zinnia pokes her head around the kitchen door. “If you’ve finished arguing, your cupcakes are waiting for you.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Ryn stands up. “You know, I meant it when I said you need to relax, V. We really do have plenty of time to plan for this assignment.”

“Fine. You can have tonight off. But the rest of the weekend is for planning.”

We enter the kitchen to find Calla giggling as she licks the icing off her cupcake. “It tickles,” she says. Which makes sense, given that bright sparkles of color are literally bouncing and shooting off the cupcakes sitting on the plate in the middle of the table.

“Calla, do you want my icing?” I ask, grabbing a cupcake from the plate and sitting down. I’m only interested in the cake part.

“Mm,” Calla says, nodding and handing me a spoon to scrape off the icing.

“Don’t you like faerie kisses?” Ryn asks, his eyes dancing with some hidden meaning. “You’re missing out, you know.”

I bite into the cake, closing my eyes as the rich honey flavor melts on my tongue. “Trust me,” I say after chewing and swallowing, “there is nothing I’m missing out on right—”

My words are cut off by a shuddering clap of thunder. Calla freezes, a spoon of icing halfway to her mouth. She blinks a few times, then whimpers as the light in the room flickers.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Ryn says. “The glow-bugs don’t like thunder, that’s all. They like to go into hibernation mode when they feel the vibrations. It makes them feel safer.”

“But then I don’t feel safe,” Calla whispers. She jumps off her chair and runs to Ryn’s side of the table, taking her spoon of icing with her. Thunder rumbles again, louder this time, as she climbs onto Ryn’s lap.

“Let’s play another round,” Ryn says. He reaches for the box of cards, then stops with his hand in the air and looks across the room at his mother. She’s standing in a corner, reading a message on her amber. A crease forms between her eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “I missed a message earlier.” She hurries out of the kitchen just as rain begins to patter down in the forest outside. A moment later she’s back in the room, pulling on a pair of boots similar to my own. They lace themselves up as she slings a bag over her shoulder and opens a doorway on a blank part of the wall. “I need to get to the Guild.”

“What happened?” Ryn asks.

Zinnia’s eyes dart to Calla, then back to Ryn. “I’m not sure I’m allowed to tell you,” she says. “But you’ll know soon enough.” And with that she disappears into the faerie paths.

*

The storm still rages outside when I wake up Monday morning. My enchanted skylight gives me a glimpse of lightning flashing every few seconds and wind and rain tearing at leaves. I turn over and grab my amber from next to my bed, mumbling the spell to make it show me the time. I close my eyes and snuggle deeper beneath the bed covers. Ryn and I have read everything there is to know about the Harts, and we’ve planned as much as we can, so I may as well sleep in a little bit. Ryn’s right—I really do need to relax more.

“Morning, V.”

My eyelids spring apart, and a glittering knife has formed in my hand before I can even think about it.

“Whoa, careful, it’s just me.” Ryn is sitting in my desk chair, looking entirely at ease.

I pull the covers up to my chin, trying to remember what I’m wearing and how much skin it covers. “What are you doing here?” I demand.

“I felt in need of a laugh and knew the sight of you first thing in the morning would do the trick.”

“Thanks. I’m flattered. Can you leave now?”

“Nope.” He leans forward. “I’m actually here to make breakfast.”

“Breakfast? Is that the burning I can smell coming from downstairs?” To be honest, the only thing I can smell is the vanilla charm I put on my bed covers once a week. But Ryn doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who cooks, so I’m guessing the chances are high he’s about to burn something in my kitchen.

“Indeed it is. Burnt pancakes especially for you.”

“And what did I do to deserve burnt pancakes?”

“It’s in celebration of our final assignment, and because you need to get used to seeing my handsome face first thing in the morning.” He stands up and walks to the door. “Oh, and I thought you might want to know that what’s happening outside isn’t a normal storm. It’s a magical one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lightning got inside the Guild.”

“WHAT?” I sit up so fast it makes me feel dizzy.

“Yeah, I thought that’d wake you up,” he says, then disappears out of the room.

“Come back!” I yell. I push the bed covers off me and hurry downstairs after Ryn. “You can’t say something like that and then just leave.” I find him in the kitchen, pointing at something in a pan with his stylus. “What happened? Did someone else get hurt?” I think of what happened on Friday night: the Seer who was murdered.

“No. There were three witnesses who saw the bolt of lightning entering the library and hitting one of the bookshelves, but none of them were close enough to get hurt.”

I sit down in one of the chairs. “So, are they thinking the storm and the murder are connected?”

“Yes.” Ryn stands back as a surprisingly non-burnt pancake flips itself. “I mean, it could be one seriously big coincidence, but I doubt it.”

“And do you know anything new about the murder?”

He shakes his head. “My mom isn’t saying anything. Anyway, the big question everyone’s talking about is who could possibly have enough power to control a storm this big?”

I look down at my hands as my heart squeezes out a few painfully hard beats. I know someone. Someone who only recently discovered his special talents with the weather.

Nate.

As if it were only yesterday, I hear Zell’s voice replaying in my mind.
He can’t quite control it yet, but his storms are certainly impressive, don’t you think?
Can Nate control it now? Is he the one creating the massive storm currently raging through Creepy Hollow forest? But there’s no way he would murder someone. Never. I might not know everything about him, but I’m sure I know that much.

“You okay, V?” I look up to find Ryn watching me closely.

“Yeah, I’m just worried, I guess.”
Liar, liar.

“Well, why don’t you go put a few more clothes on,” he says, gesturing in the general direction of my exposed legs, “then we can have breakfast and go kick this assignment’s ass.”

“And don’t forget that when you’re pretending to be human you
cannot
be seen using magic,” Tora says.

“Trust me, I’m not about to break that rule again.” I’m sitting on the floor of her office, the contents of my emergency kit spread around me as I do an inventory.

“Right.” She stops pacing and sits on the edge of her desk, bouncing her leg. “Oh, and did you ever replenish your burn healing potion after your assignment with the draconi?”

“Right here.” I hold up a jar of clear gel. “Okay, I think all I’m missing are those insta-heal patches for deep cuts, but they’re not really necessary. I’m sure this is the kind of assignment where I’ll have enough magic to heal my own—”

“I’ll go get some from Uri,” Tora says, jumping up. She’s out of the door before I can tell her not to worry about it. I pack away all the vials, bottles, jars, and bandages—and the
Forget
potion I hid in my pocket. I couldn’t have Tora seeing that. I should really get rid of it, but it seems a waste to throw away a potion made of such expensive ingredients.

Tora returns with five round, blue patches in her hand. I pop them into the emergency kit and close it up. I stand and survey my things.

“Okay,” Tora says, moving to stand beside me. “You’ve got your emergency kit—”

“Check.”

“—your potions kit—”

“Check.”

“—and some clothes and personal items so you don’t stink by the time you get back.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Check.”

She shakes her head at the questioning look on my face. “You don’t want to know about the hygiene habits of some of the people I went on assignment with back before I became a mentor.”

“Well,” I say with a laugh, “I like to be clean, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

“You’re not the one I’m worried about,” Tora says. “I hope for your sake Ryn feels the same way.”

“Feels the same way about what?” Ryn asks, stopping in the doorway of Tora’s office.

“Hygiene,” Tora tells him.

“Are you ready to go down?” Bran calls from the corridor as he walks past, Asami at his side.

“Almost,” I call back. “Just resizing.” I hold my emergency kit in my hands and say the words to make it shrink. I repeat them until the kit is the size of a small nut, then do the same with my other two bags. I lift my right foot and click open the hidden compartment in the sole of my boot, then put the three bags inside and close it. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Come on,” Tora says, already at the door. We hurry out of her office to catch up with Bran, Asami and Ryn.

“Feeling confident, Vi?” Bran asks.

“I think so,” I say, trying not to sound
too
confident. I doubt that ever works out well for anyone. “It doesn’t seem that complicated or dangerous. We just have to get some information out of a human.”

“Well, don’t be fooled. You can’t always tell when spells have been placed on humans.”

“Yeah, I know.” I pat my pockets, trying to rid myself of the feeling that I’ve forgotten something important. I’m being paranoid, of course. I
know
I’ve packed everything.

“And we’re allowed to contact you, right?” Asami asks.

“Yes, but try not to,” Bran says. “On real assignments, guardians obviously remain in contact with the Guild, but since this assignment is a test for you and we want to see how much you can do on your own, contacting anyone will, unfortunately, cost you some points.”

We reach the stairs and head down toward the main foyer of the Guild. I trail my hand lightly over the vines twisted around the banister, feeling the leaves brush between my fingers. “Bran, do you have anything else to tell us about the murder and the storm?”