Shadowborn Academy_ Year One (Dark Fae Academy #1) - G. Bailey Page 0,11
meet Selena?”
He shakes his head. “She faded before my time.”
Faded. What an odd yet beautiful way to put her death. The Book of Zorya said she cut her own heart out to save her sister.
I used to always joke that if I had to sacrifice my heart for Sage, she’d be bitterly disappointed by the swinging brick I’d have to offer.
I face the wisp again, grabbing my torch. “Okay, little wisp. Please show the way.”
The wisp blinks into nothingness and then returns several feet away. With Pitch by my side, holding my hand in that protective, alpha way of his that makes me weak in the knees, we follow the wisp through the dimly lit forest. It only feels like minutes later when we arrive at the academy, and I feel a little stupid for not finding it on my own.
The castle looks like it’s half crawled out of the ground, or the ground itself has attempted to swallow it whole at some point. The top of the building is rustic and old with leaf-shrouded towers that almost look like trees. Fallen leaves and moss shroud every inch of the brickwork, blending it in with the forest. Green and amber stained glass windows stretch up the sides of the main part of the castle, showing some sort of story of a woman and a moon. As the moonlight trickles through the trees, it shines through the glass, reflecting bursts of iridescent light in circles on the ground in front of me. I notice there isn’t a front door or any door on this part of the academy. The only visible entrances are two cave tunnels with enormous statues at either side of them. They’re sculptures of Danica and Selena, carved from marble, and they’re holding glowing blue stars in the palms of their hands. They are breathtakingly beautiful.
Home sweet home.
Maybe my time at this academy won’t be entirely unbearable after all.
Pitch transforms back into his shadow and merges with my body. It’s not like anyone can see him unless he wants them too, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
A sullen man dressed in dark black robes stands beside the cave on my right. He watches me like a hawk as I veer towards him. When I reach the entrance, he looks down his hooked nose at me and lifts his thinly-pressed lips into a scathing smile.
“Welcome to Hell, Miss Charles. You just failed your very first challenge.”
I hold in my reply for all but a second, wanting to believe I can be a better person, but I’m rotten to the core and I really don’t like the way this man is sneering at me.
“I didn’t fail.”
He lifts his bushy white eyebrows, his skin deathly pale and his slicked-back hair like freshly fallen snow. “Wisps are a way of cheating. The idea was for you to find your own way to the academy without help of any kind,” he states matter-of-factly, speaking as though he’s got something very large and uncomfortable shoved up his ass. “I am Maximus Greyhorn, the third of my name and current headmaster at Shadowborn Academy. You may address me as Mr Greyhorn, Sir, or Headmaster.”
It takes considerable effort not to roll my eyes and address him as something more derogatory.
“I hardly called the wisp. It came to me,” I explain, though I feel like it’s falling on deaf ears.
The man’s pale blue eyes cut into me like shards of ice. While others might find his scrutiny intimidating, I stare back just as boldly. I’m already beginning to hate this man.
Breaking our little standoff, I glance around quickly, wondering where the hell Sage is. Now I know this is all some kind of messed up test, I’m not that worried about her. Sage passes every test and it’s usually me that fails. Figures that I failed this one, too.
Harrumphing under his breath, he replies, “Well, that I do not believe. Wisps are magical, sentient beings and they do not come to the aid of silly little shadowborns lost in the woods. Now come. We have much to get through.”
Without saying another word, he pivots on his heel, his black cloak billowing around him, and marches to the entrance of the cave. Not having much of a choice, I shuffle my feet after him, making sure to keep a good distance. There’s something off about this man; he reeks of death. Sage always chuckles when I say I can smell death, but I really can smell