“That’s basically it.” She tucks a hot-pink strand behind her ear. “Although I prefer the word ‘appraised’ to ogled.”
Appraised?
As my gaze travels over the others, I discover they’re all dressed in luxurious cool-toned clothes similar to the Winter Court attire. Even Mack. She sports a gorgeous ensemble of silver pants and a low-cut ivory blouse, dark blue embroidery lining the hem of her bodice. A royal blue jacket of expensive velvet tapers to accentuate her slim waist and curvy hips, and knee-high white Jimmy Choo boots pull everything together.
I pluck subconsciously at my dirty sweatshirt. Guess I didn’t get the Fae-inspired wardrobe memo . . . thanks, Evermore dickwad. Not that I’d ever be able to match their style with my goodwill inspired closet, but he didn’t know that.
She notices me looking and says, “I ordered my outfit from Barneys. Dressing like the Evermore is all the rage in Manhattan. We follow their seasons and everything, and winter fashion is my favorite.” I must be making a face because she adds, “I mean, it’s a bit overdone, in my opinion . . . but when in Everwilde . . .”
“Right.” I grin, her peppy mood contagious. “We don’t have a Barney’s in Amarillo.”
She laughs, a hearty sound that lifts my spirits. “You know, Dallas Cowboys, I think I’m going to like you. Depending on who chooses you at the Shadow Selection, maybe we can be bunk mates.”
“Shadow Selection?” Could there be a more ominous sounding name?
“Yeah,” Mack answers, sounding way less panicky than I feel. “The ceremony where basically our entire next four years are decided.” I must look confused because she adds, “Each Fae chooses a human shadow to train under them at school. I mean, we also fetch them things a lot and do trivial errands and stuff. Especially first year.”
Oh—that’s what the headmistress was talking about. The thought brings to mind cattle yards and auctioneers, but it also explains why the Evermore have drawn around our cage. They’re assessing us like bugs under a microscope. And most eyes seem to be on me.
Before I can question her further, the dais begins to move.
We’re sinking. Fast. Another round of panic lodges deep in my chest, and I clamp the iron bars of my cage, flexing my hands over the cool metal and spreading my legs for balance.
“Mack,” I call. “Which part of the ceremony is this?”
Her eyes go wide. “Did no one prepare you for this?” There’s incredulity in her voice, along with pity, an emotion I despise.
“I think you should just assume I know nothing.” The last few words come out two octaves higher as the floor lurches faster and faster into the ground. I barely have time to glimpse the Fae cheer, hooting and jeering, before the dais sinks into the earth.
Into the earth, for frack’s sake. This is totally how I die.
Mack sweeps a concerned look over me. “I don’t have time to explain all of it . . . you know how to swim, right?”
“Swim?” Dear Lord, my voice is squeaky. Why do I have to hate tight, enclosed spaces? ”Sure. Why?”
I used to love it, but swimming requires enormous amounts of calories . . .
“They’re dropping us into a river system below the academy. We have to make it to the lake of sorrows.” Of course it’s called the lake of sorrows. “We’re supposed to be scared of the selkies that live there, but my parents told me they secretly feed the selkies a huge meal right beforehand and then drug them with magic.”
Selkies . . . what are those again? My brain supplies endless images of mermaid creatures with rows of pointy teeth.
Killer mermaids. They’re throwing us into water with killer mermaids. “So they’re . . . harmless?”
“Supposedly.” She shrugs. “The biggest threat, of course, is drowning. There were two during my parents’ Selection.” She shrugs again, but the conditioned response is unable to hide the way her mouth puckers at the corners. “Other than making sure we don’t die, we just have to be one of the first fifty to arrive.”
This just keeps getting better. “What happens if we’re not?”
“We lose our spot in the academy.”
A spark of hope blossoms inside my chest. So there’s a way to get kicked out of this place? “Is that a . . . bad thing?”
Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “I still cannot get over how little you know about how this all works. Yes, that’s a bad thing. A