Chapter 5
Combing my damp black hair, I leave it down as I go back into the bedroom Velia led me to, shivering from the coldness of the corridor and missing the steamy bathroom. The bedroom Velia has given me is a small box room with a single bed, a square white-panelled window looking over the back of the house, and a small cabinet under the window with four empty drawers. Resting on the cabinet is a pile of dark clothes and even some worn-down boots. I pull the long-sleeved black top on over my bra, enjoying the soft fabric, and slide into the tight black trousers that were clearly made for a taller person than I am. I roll the bottoms of the trousers up to my ankles before sliding on the socks and boots, which again are a little big, but it’s liveable. I’ve sure as hell lived in worse clothing than this.
“When are we leaving, short stuff?” Mossy asks me, jumping onto the bed from the window. The blue and silver monkey looks right at home on the white sheets of the bed, and I hope I can be as relaxed as him at some point. I’m still not sure this whole house and offer isn’t a trap.
I groan. “Drop the nickname, Moss, and we aren’t leaving until I find out what they want. That failed job means boss man will kill my ass if we go back to Earth.”
“I told you taking that job was going to get us in trouble,” Mossy singsongs. I roll my eyes at him and walk to the window, crossing my arms and looking out over the hills and forests in the distance.
“There wasn’t a choice,” I gently remind him. “And you know this. Now go and figure out a way to escape this place if I need it, and don’t disappear this time because you find food!”
“Grumpy short stuff,” Mossy mutters with a little snicker. He opens the window and slides outside. The cold breeze instantly fills the room, and I close the window shut behind him. He has a fur coat on after all.
“Daesyn! Dinner is ready for everyone!” Alun’s voice fills the house like a damn echo. With the thin walls and creaky floors, I bet no one got away with anything in this house. Leaving the bedroom, I head out into the empty corridor. There are three other doors, one of which I know goes to the Jack and Jill bathroom I used, and I’m guessing they are bedrooms. I hear light chatter as I make my way down the stairs and follow the noise through the left door. The kitchen and dining room are one room, with the kitchen cabinets taking up all the walls and a six-seater table in the middle of it. The table has candle tealights floating in water inside the jars, giving the room a little more light in this always-night place.
Everyone is already seated, including the new people who I don’t know, but since they look half fearful and half amazed, I’m sure they have been updated on who I am. Two women, I would guess near the same age as I am, sit on one side together. Their features are similar, both of them are pretty in a classical way, and they both have long black hair in matching braids. One of them has brown eyes and the other has vivid green eyes. I take the seat next to Torfinn, who watches me like a wolf watches his prey. I resist the urge to wink at him and wind him up further. Alun sits at the head of the table, and Velia on the other side opposite him.
And no one talks even as a Buttery sprite appears over the cooker. I stare at the tiny little fae creature in shock, with a distant memory snapping into my head of my mother and uncle in the kitchen. Buttery sprite used to love to help my mother cook dinner, and she loved them dearly, even making little cloaks for them to wear. The Buttery sprite has yellow skin and looks like a doll, but she is no bigger than my hand. Her long yellow hair is pure glitter and is wrapped around her body, and her green wings flicker so fast they almost don’t seem to be there. I glance around, expecting Alun or Velia to be disgusted by the fae creature in their house, but that doesn’t happen.
Velia smiles at the Buttery sprite. “Thank you for your help. You best hide now, Caliphe.” Caliphe looks over at me, her little eyes going wide, and I softly shake my head, hoping she gets it. When she disappears in a puff of yellow glitter, I finally let out the breath I was holding. That was too close. Velia gets up and brings over two hot pots with something nice smelling inside, most likely chicken stew if my nose is right. Alun grabs plates of bread, and once they have placed them in the middle of the table between the candles, I can’t take the silence anymore.
“Who are you two then?” I question, waving a hand at the twins.
The one on the left with the green eyes gives me a funny look before lifting her head in an “I’m so much better than you” sort of way. “My name is Laelia, and this is my sister, Persephone.”
“Call me Poppy,” the other sister cuts in, smiling at me. Ah, she is the less bitchy twin.
“Right,” I draw out the word and turn my gaze to Alun. “What do you want?”
He clears his throat, moving his eyes from me to Laelia. Poppy looks down at her empty plate like it could swallow her up while Laelia seems delighted in a petty way that bitchy girls always are. “Have you heard of Royal Reaper Academy, Daesyn?”
“No,” I reply, crossing my arms and leaning back in my seat. Sounds like a shitty pompous school for rich kids.
“May I explain?” Torfinn asks, and Alun nods. The angel fucker turns his eyes on me, and even though he is enchanting to look at, I make sure not to give him eye contact as he speaks, in case he sees right through me. “The Royal Reaper Academy is only ever open to new students once every one thousand years. The academy is a test, a two-year evaluation of all of its students to look for a new queen or king to rule. Only one student makes it to the end of the academy, all other students will have either died or been injured enough to be taken out.”
“Sounds brutal,” I say with wide eyes. I knew the reapers were a fucked up race, but this shit takes the cake. “Who the fuck would go to that academy?”
“You,” Alun bluntly answers, and I cough on thin air before laughing.
“Very funny,” I laugh, but when I look around and see no one else is laughing, a nervous feeling enters my stomach. “Are you actually not fucking around with me?”
“We are not fucking around,” Alun mimics me, while Torfinn looks highly amused. “The one hundred students, aged between nineteen and twenty-one, for Royal Reaper Academy are randomly chosen by the current queen. My twin daughters were both picked.”
“And how is that my problem?” I ask, even though I’m starting to get an idea of where this conversation is headed.
“Laelia is not gifted in fighting or in her powers. I am certain she would die instantly at the academy, and I will not let my firstborn die in there. I cannot simply take her away, as Poppy and our entire family would be killed if found,” Alun firmly states. “I want you to take Laelia’s place and protect Poppy in the academy. Within the first year, Poppy and I have a plan to make it seem like she cannot fight, and she will be excused. Then you will get yourself excused, however you wish, and take my daughter’s identity. Laelia is going to live on Earth, and you will be free.”
I glance between Poppy and Laelia. I don’t believe for one second either of these two have a clue how to fight or that they are very good with their powers. They would both be dead from the get-go at the academy, and I’m sure their parents know it. They just picked their favourite to save.
I sigh. “This is insane. They would know I’m not her twin sister.”
“No, they wouldn’t,” Alun counters. “No one has ever met my daughters, and you look alike enough to pass. Same dark hair and height. Twins don’t always look similar, and you can put your unusual eye colour down to distant Seelie fae blood in our line. Purple eyes like yours are a marker in our world of mixed fae blood, and it is not strange per se. Many fae and reapers mated in the times before the war, and that blood has trickled down. They will judge and hate you for the colour, but I assume that is where it came from in the first place.”
It’s not, but fuck am I admitting to that right now.
When Alun seems to realise I’m not going to confirm anything, he then adds, “You must not use fae magic, for it is banned.”
The room falls into silence as they all look at me, still waiting for an answer. I’m surprised it’s Velia who speaks first. “If you had stayed in this world, grown up in it, I have no doubt your name would have been picked for the academy. Your grandfather went to the academy, and heirs are always chosen.”
“He didn’t win, though, did he?” I question, and she shakes her head.
“He was one of the five who were excused,” she answers.
Five in one hundred does not sound like good odds.
“Don’t you want to search for more about who you are? The academy trains you with extreme tests that are designed to bring out your true nature,” Alun suggests. “It is the only way for you to be free.”
“I know who I am and what I want. Both of which don’t include being murdered for a throne,” I growl.
Torfinn laughs. “You don’t have a clue about yourself or anything, Dae.”
“I’m not doing this,” I snap, pushing out of the chair, and Torfinn’s hand clamps down on my arm.
“If you don’t, Queen Evie has asked me to bring you back to her world. You will be locked up for your own safety as Evie does not want you killed…or herself to be killed,” he warns me, giving me a pointed look. “And then whoever is after you will find a way to kill you in that prison; we are both aware of that. Evie’s protection only stretches so far, and she is not all-seeing. Do you want that?”
Gritting my teeth, I pull my arm from his grip. I slide back into the seat, crossing my arms and letting out a long breath. Death at the academy where I would stand a chance, or death by my boss who sucks people’s souls from their bodies for fun?
