My lungs are on fire as I shove off the ground toward the surface, kicking as hard and fast as I can. I find Lavender haired girl floating ten feet from the surface, and my heart clenches. She’s motionless. Eyes closed. Shafts of light from above highlight the vibrancy of her hair swirling around her slack face.
Using every bit of energy I have left, I grab her arm and drag her to the surface. She doesn’t move, doesn’t kick or struggle or anything.
Not good.
Cold air stings my face, steam from the warm water curling around my head. Clutching the girl to my chest, I struggle to keep her head above water, but it flops lifelessly side to side.
Crap. I need to help her.
Someone calls out, and I manage to yell back, taking deep lungfuls of frigid air. Every exhalation sends a milky cloud shooting from my shivering lips.
A wooden rowboat with peeling brown paint drifts over and someone tugs us over the side. As soon as we’re both in the boat, I turn the girl on her side to get any water out of her lungs. I feel for her pulse, but my fingers are too numb to be of much help.
Is she breathing? Her chest isn’t moving.
Head spinning, I position her on her back and start compressing her chest like I’ve seen on TV.
After a few minutes, I stop, unsure if what I’m doing is even helping.
Oh, God. I stare up at the stars and try to catch my breath as we near the shore, pieces of ice smacking the hull.
It’s not exactly light outside, but a strange mixture of dusk and moonlight reflects off the snow and brightens the land.
The person rowing—a huge, muscular faun with goat legs covered in white fur and large ram horns protruding from short red hair—hands me a blanket. Wrapping the scratchy wool around my body like a burrito, I sit up in time to see Mack sprinting toward our boat, followed closely by the blond Evermore I nearly brained earlier with my shoes. He’s holding my boots and grinning.
My sprite, on the other hand, is not grinning as she flutters through the air clutching my sweatshirt. It’s too heavy for her tiny wings, and she keeps dipping and weaving in the air, dragging my poor sweatshirt through the snow.
The curses spewing from her lips could fill ten swear jars.
A crowd gathers on the snowy lawn a little way ahead. Beyond that, the academy rises impossibly high, the most beautiful building I’ve ever seen. Carved from white marble, the spires and towers glimmer faintly under the moonlight. Blue and gold orbs of magic pulse from thousands of lanterns that sparkle like the stars above. A flag flies from the middle tower, the silver and blue colors definitely from the Winter Court.
For a moment, a breath, I have the odd feeling that I’ve been here before. Or dreamed about this place. Or read about it, even. In much more detail than that tiny Wikipedia article.
Then the bottom of the boat scrapes on the shore, and I’m dodging the sweatshirt being thrown at my face.
After I slip my sweatshirt and boots on, the blond male Evermore who carried my boots helps me off the boat. I accept his hand, startled by the warmth of his fingers. He grins and I suddenly realize how strikingly handsome he is.
I mean, all the Evermore are unbelievably gorgeous, but he surpasses even the normal Fae standard. In our world, he would be a movie star or a model . . . or both.
He wears the green and gold of the Summer Court, the colors matching his gold-flecked green eyes. His hair, too, is gold, and pulled back in a half-knot that would make any other man look ridiculous. Golden cuffs shaped like ivy wind up his pointed ears, capping the tips.
“Are you okay?” he asks, flashing perfect teeth.
He’s running his hands over my body, an orange-gold light flickering out from his palms and seeping into my flesh. Each pass fills me with delicious heat and dries my clothes. Once he’s done with that, he waves his fingers and creates a bubble of warmth that covers my entire body.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I nod and glance back at the girl I saved. “But she needs—”
My words trail away into silence. The girl hasn’t moved from where I positioned her.
The Summer Evermore’s expression goes dark, and he looks to the Faun. “Basil, is she alive?”