Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“That’s because it comes from the Sky Lands—the Drake’s home world,” I told him. “It’s an extremely rare species called a chimeling. And that one belongs to someone else—it’s another student’s pet.”
“Pet?” Mr. Barron frowned. “We don’t allow pets at Nocturne Academy.”
“It’s another student’s familiar, is what Emma meant to say,” Bran said quickly.
“Oh, well…that’s different.” Mr. Barron nodded. Some of the Sisters were known to keep a cat or a bat or a rat or sometimes even a black snake as a familiar. It was allowed as long as the companion animal stayed in their dorm and didn’t bother anyone on campus.
“This nasty little Norm is lying,” Morganna declared, crossing her arms under her full breasts and pushing them up for the best effect. “I found this little animal out in the common area and caught it fair and square—it belongs to me.”
“Even if Emma was lying—which she isn’t,” Bran said quietly. “Would that make it all right for you to catch a living creature and pin it in your hair as an ornament until it starves to death?”
“Is that what all you girls have been doing?” Mr. Barron demanded, glaring at the assembled Fae girls in the classroom, all of whom had live butterflies trembling in their hair. “I assumed those were all some kind of fancy new robot-type hair doo-hickies,” he added.
“Think where you are, Sir,” Bran murmured. “Magic is a more likely explanation than science at Nocturne Academy.”
“Yes, I guess it is,” Mr. Barron said, frowning. “So those are all alive?” he asked again.
“So what if they are?” Morganna demanded, shoving her breasts out even further. “We aren’t breaking any school rules by wearing them. We just like to look pretty, that’s all,” she added with a flirtatious wink at the Biology teacher.
Thankfully, Mr. Barron was immune to her not inconsiderable charms.
“You might not be breaking the rules now but you will be soon,” he declared. “I’m going to talk to Headmistress Nightworthy and have her put a stop to this immediately. We’re here in this classroom to study life—not kill it, girls,” he went on, glaring at them. “Now everybody who has a living hair ornament let them go—right now. I mean it!”
There were sullen murmurs and dark looks from all the Fae girls but they had no choice. One by one they unpinned the slowly flapping butterflies from their hair and I heard them whispering some kind of spell or incantation in a language I didn’t understand. It sounded vaguely Celtic. Whatever they were saying, it had an immediate effect.
Suddenly the air was full of brightly colored butterflies, flapping wildly as they reveled in their freedom.
“You—open a window—let them out.” Mr. Barron gestured to one of the other students who hastened to comply. The butterflies seemed drawn to the fresh air and sunshine pouring in because they started flapping towards the open window almost at once.
And with them, went Spike.
Or he tried to, anyway. But as the little chimeling was finally released from the magic and rose into the air, letting out loud, joyful chimes of freedom as his rainbow wings flapped rapidly, Morganna shot out a hand and grabbed him out of the air.
I gave a strangled cry as I saw her eyes narrow and her long, elegant fingers tighten on the tiny creature. Spike gave a last chiming cry and then was silent.
Morganna opened her hand and let him drop, his crumpled wings not even stirring to try and keep himself from falling.
Somehow, I managed to catch the small, mangled body in my own cupped hands before he hit the floor. Already tears of sorrow and rage were rising in my eyes.
“What…why?” was all I could manage.
“Because.” Morganna’s eyes flashed spitefully. “If I can’t have him, no one can!”
Then she turned her back pointedly and began talking to Elian Darkwing as though nothing had happened.
8
Spike was dead—or almost dead. The tiny body trembled in my hand but it was clear that Morganna’s rough treatment had been more than his fragile frame could handle.
I could barely see him through the haze of tears in my eyes. Of course the little chimeling didn’t belong to me, but it still tore at my heart to see him suffering. I couldn’t bear to imagine what Jalli would say when I had to give his little broken body to her and explain what had happened.
It was such an awful, brutal end to such a vibrant little life.
“Emma? Hey, Emma, come over here—all right?” I felt Bran’s comforting arm around my shoulders and then he was leading me to our lab table near the back of the room.
“He’s d-dead,” I whispered, my tears raining down unashamedly on the crumpled rainbow wings. I couldn’t see for weeping, I was so upset. “That bitch k-k-killed him!”
“Maybe not,” Bran remarked. “Look.”
I had no idea what he was talking about but I forced myself to try and focus. To my surprise, when I blinked to clear my tear-fogged eyes, I saw that Spike’s wings didn’t look quite so crumpled and broken as they had before. They were dewed all over with my teardrops but they seemed to somehow be healing.