Labyrinth
Authors: Rachel Morgan
Labyrinth
Copyright © 2012 Rachel Morgan
Cover Design by Rachel Morgan
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously.
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Kindle ebook ISBN: 978-0-9870290-2-7
Smashwords ebook ISBN: 978-0-9870290-3-4
T
ABLE
O
F
C
ONTENTS
The Next Installment in the Series
For Kyle.
You are my sunshine.
I reach the end of the empty Guild corridor for the millionth time. I turn automatically and continue pacing. If anyone asks, I’m attempting to wear a path into the wooden floor using only the power of a pair of high-heeled shoes. The truth, however, is far less glamorous. I’m a disgraced faerie about to be chewed apart by the Guild Council for breaking the Law.
My left ankle twists to the side as I take another wonky step forward. Stupid shoes. I’d like to meet the idiots who decided to camouflage a torture device as a human fashion item. I’d show them there are far better things one can do with a pointy heel.
I sit down on the bench opposite the only door on this corridor and twist my hands together in my lap. The Council should have called me in at least ten minutes ago; I think the six of them are making sure I’m well and truly terrified before they interrogate me about my supposed
crimes
. The crimes that weren’t even my fault. How could I help revealing myself to a human boy when that boy just happens to be able to see through faerie glamours? Besides,
Nate
was the one who followed
me
through the faerie paths back to Creepy Hollow.
I hear footsteps coming down the corridor. I put my head in my hands, making sure my fingers cover my face.
Keep walking, keep walking
, I urge the footsteps. But they stop. I spread my fingers apart and see a pair of black boots with a twisting pattern of thorns engraved into the chunky metal buckles.
My heart sinks.
Fantastic. Just make my day even worse, why don’t you?
I raise my head and meet Ryn’s bright blue gaze. He sits on the bench opposite me. This isn’t a coincidence. He has no reason to be here other than to torment me. “I hear you had fun on the way back to the human’s house,” he says. His eyes travel to the scar that bracelets my wrist. “And you had a make-out session with him on his front lawn.”
“Back lawn, actually.” I try to keep my voice even, but I have a sudden urge to punch the wall. I’m going to kill Flint. I didn’t know he’d seen that kiss.
“Too bad your human doesn’t remember anything now. I bet that kiss was
incredible
.” Ryn sticks his tongue out and pretends to slobber all over himself. Delightful.
“How old are you again?” I ask. I’d like to shove his tongue down his throat. I’m relieved he thinks Nate doesn’t remember anything though. I’ve spent the past few days living in fear that someone will find out what I did. Or, more accurately, what I
didn’t
do.
Ryn opens his mouth to answer, then freezes. His eyes slide from mine and settle on . . . my ear? I clutch my earlobe and feel the slender arrow-shaped earring. I took Nate’s advice and decided to just wear the darn things instead of carrying them around in the sole of my boot. Now I remember why I stopped wearing them in the first place: I’ve never liked it when Ryn looks at me like he wants to kill me.
The door beside Ryn opens and the youngest member of the Council pokes her blue and blonde head out. “We’ll see you now, Miss Fairdale.”
I stand up and walk to the door. Ryn’s eyes never leave me. “Break a leg,” he says, his voice like thin ice. I don’t think he means it the way humans do.
*
The first thing I do when I get home is remove the shoes. I’d like to snap the damn heels right off, but since they belong to my mentor Tora, that probably wouldn’t be a good idea. I toss the shoes onto the couch, waking Filigree, who shifts into porcupine form in fright. When he sees it’s only me, he shifts back to the white mink version of himself, sits upright, and cocks his head to one side.
“You don’t want to know,” I tell him as I head for the stairs. “Let’s just say I’m glad it’s over.” I run up to my bedroom, peeling off Raven’s dress as I go—Tora refused to let me face the Council in my everyday creature-butt-kicking clothes. The dress lands on my bed. I yank open a drawer and pull out the first pants and top I see. There’s no point in searching through the pile. Everything I own is pretty much the same: dark, close-fitting, and easy to move in. This particular top has strips of leather crisscrossing over it, in case I feel the need to secure a few weapons to my body. Fortunately, right now, I don’t.
I jump down the stairs two at a time and skid into the kitchen. I grab an apple from the bowl of fruit and munch it down while Filigree helps himself to a few roasted nixles from a jar on the counter. “I’ll be back later,” I say, patting him on the head with one hand and reaching for my stylus with the other. He narrows his black eyes at me. “I know, I know, I’m breaking more rules. You don’t have to remind me.”
Ignoring the now familiar stab of guilt, I open a doorway on my curved kitchen wall, step through, and bring up an image of Nate’s bedroom in my mind. Perhaps if I concentrate hard enough I can land exactly . . . on . . .
I drop out of the blackness of the faerie paths, hit the edge of the bed, and fall onto the floor. Oops. So much for a perfect landing. I’m up in an instant, my face flaming, but there seems to be no one here. Well, I don’t mind waiting for Nate to get back from wherever he went. It’s not as though I have anything else to do now that I’m banned from entering the Guild for a week.
I wander around Nate’s bedroom. His shelves are a mess of old children’s books, DVDs, tiny cars gathering dust, and several different chess sets. Papers and notebooks cover his desk, and the computer emits a low hum. A chemistry textbook lies in the middle of the bed, a ruler sticking out between the pages. I stretch across the bed and open to the page the ruler marks. Letters, numbers and arrows are scrawled within the margins. I twist a strand of purple hair around my finger as I try to interpret the notations.
“Vi, hey!” I snap the book shut and look up to see Nate standing in the doorway. He pulls the door closed behind him and walks to the bed. “You know, normal people would use the front door,” he says.
“Normal people wouldn’t even be able to see that I’m here,” I tell him as I sit up.
He moves the textbook aside and sits on the edge of the bed beside me. “I guess neither of us is normal then.”
I angle my head down and peer up at him through my lashes in what I hope is an alluring manner. I have zero experience in this area though, so it’s possible I look like a total moron. But I must be doing something right, because Nate leans closer and raises his hand to brush his knuckles against my cheek. His gaze slips down to my mouth, and he tilts his head forward.
Finally
, I think.
Finally, finally
. He hasn’t kissed me since that night on the grass. I’ve only been able to visit him once since then. His parents were having a loud discussion in the room next door—a definite mood-killer—then his friend phoned to ask about homework, and then Tora sent a message wanting to know why I hadn’t heard her knocking at my house.
I’m about to close my eyes when Nate stops. “Oh, the hearing.” He pulls away from me. “How was it?”
I let out a long sigh and drag myself across the bed to lean against the footboard. “After a lengthy debate, the Council decided perhaps it wasn’t my fault I brought you back to Creepy Hollow—”
“That’s great!”
“—but since it’s such an important rule and I need to be made an example of, blah blah blah, I failed the assignment.” Nate’s face falls. “And,” I add with a grimace, “the Council decided to suspend me for a week, meaning I don’t get to go in and train, and I’ll miss whatever assignments are given out.”