Almost nine months later
1.
1.
Althea Dunning huddled against the rough tree trunk and stared at the crumpled letter in her hand. Her dreams had been destroyed by one little sentence. Eight words.
We have chosen someone else for the position.
There was a short list of names after that damning sentence, those four students lucky enough to be picked for the advanced class.
Michael Elliott. The star pupil, the genius, the boy wonder whose talent far surpassed her own. Michael could do magic in his sleep. Michael had a talent the wizard's Council craved, since his talents would only make the thrice-damned Council more powerful. Elaine Morgan. The blond bitch of a witch whose sole trick was that she could coax water out of anything.
She closed her eyes and willed the letter to vanish. Willed the sentence to change to one of acceptance instead of one of rejection.
Stubbornly, it remained the same.
Ben Pollard. Another damn prodigy. He couldn't tie his shoes, but he knew everything that could be known about herbs.
Josiah Hunt. It took Althea a moment to recall his specialty. But when she thought about it, his presence on the list of elite did not fit at all. Sure, Michael was a genius and Elaine had no contenders in her field. And even Ben wasn't so bad. But Josiah? He was--nothing. A newcomer, even. Quiet and bookish and adept at blending into the background of any situation.
Why had they chosen him?
There were more sentences in the letter, of course. The phrase try again next year sent a bolt of burning shame into her stomach. Booklearning caused the nighttime forest to swim around her head, and we know you'll understand had made her so dizzy that she had almost fainted in class.
Not that anyone cared. She had been working towards her only goal--her dream--ever since she had come to Darkbrook. And now--now her dreams had been destroyed by a nobody. Four nobodies, to be exact.
It wasn't fair.
She scrubbed at her face, embarrassed to find it wet. Michael Elliott was not worth crying over. Neither were Elaine or Ben or stupid Josiah. The death of her dreams--and the power that a member of the Council shared--was worth much more than a stupid boy whose talent far surpassed most of the teachers at Darkbrook. Or the knowledge of all the damned plants in the forest. Or water, damn it. Or however Josiah managed to place himself on the list. The fact that they had been chosen to be mentored by Lucas Lane only made matters worse.
Booklearning. Althea's eyes narrowed. She was at the top of her class, despite the fact that she had very little magical talent of her own. Her ability to master written spells had garnered praise from all of her teachers and she was the envy of quite a few students with much more talent than she possessed.
She had expected to see Michael's name on the list. She was not surprised to see Elaine's or Ben's. But Josiah?
Josiah had stolen her dreams, taken her popularity, dashed her hopes, and destroyed any chance she had at getting a position on the Council.
The letter was the final word. She could not petition for a change, or protest their decision. She had applied, been judged, and had lost. Any future she might have had with the Council had crumbled to dust the second they had chosen Josiah Hunt over her.
It just wasn't fair!
"It is not every day that I come across a fair maiden in such distress," a cultured voice said, quite nearby. "You are much too pretty for dismal thoughts, child. What scoundrel has driven the smile from your face?"
Without bothering to look up, Althea knew the speaker was an elf. The denizens of Faerie were silver-tongued and impossibly beautiful. The Council had outlawed their practice of kidnapping young girls and boys from the surrounding villages, but every once in a while, they had to intervene to rescue an unwitting traveler.
Elves were not to be trusted. And Althea had no patience for pretty speech, not after the death of her dreams.
She scowled and muttered the set of words to fashion a ward. "It's none of your business. Leave me alone!"
"Ach, child. I mean you no harm. I felt your sorrow--and your anger." A shadow stepped out of the trees, moonlight glittering on satin and velvet. "You're far from your bed tonight."
"I'm not a child," Althea snapped. "And it's none of your concern. I'm fine. Leave me be." She stood, still clutching the letter like a talisman, holding it out in front of her as if it alone would bar the elf's approach.
With deft fingers, the elf snatched the letter from her grip and retreated into the shadows again. "Oh, I am grieved to hear of your failure, Althea Dunning," he murmured, his voice as clear as if he stood right beside her. "It's a wonder your nemesis has not--come to harm."
Shaken at his quickness, Althea raised her chin and folded her arms. "I'm not that type of wizard. And if you thought I was, I'm sorry, but you're mistaken."
"I'm not mistaken," the elf said, and her letter drifted out of the shadows to fall in the path of a moonbeam on the forest floor. "I was sent to request your presence at a meeting, milady. Your dreams might not yet be dust."
Althea left the letter where it lay and stared into the shadows, trying to see the expression on the elf's face. Did she dare form a light? Quite suddenly, she was very glad of the tree at her back.
"What kind of a meeting?" she asked. "And I can't protest this decision. The Council has spoken. They will not change their mind." Bile clogged her throat as she imagined having to watch everyone fawn over the chosen ones. As if they had even tried. They had no idea how much of a struggle magic truly was for most of the world.
The elf stepped out of the shadows again, his face still indistinct. "This meeting will ensure your future as a member of the Council," he said. "My lady Magdalen said to tell you that she could promise you that."
Despite the fact that she knew elves were accomplished liars, Althea felt her heartbeat quicken. "Your lady--Magdalen? How can she make such a claim? The Council has chosen. The four students on this list--except for Josiah--are at the top of their class. I'm not even sure why Josiah was picked. He's not even in the right year!" She clenched both hands, her forearms aching from the unaccustomed pressure.
The elf spread his hands apart in what probably passed for a shrug in Faerie. "Ah, but if something happened to your nemesis--this Josiah--the Council would have to rethink their choice, wouldn't they?"
Althea gasped. "You--you think I would stoop so low?" She could not help the hysteria in her tone of voice. "Begone! I have no reason to listen to your lies."
The elf's posture changed. His shoulders slumped; his arms fell to his side. "If there is one thing I can tell you truly, it is that I do not lie," he whispered, and toed the fallen leaves. "You deserve that position, Althea Dunning."
"I know I do," Althea said hotly, the tears starting again. "But they chose--they chose him instead of me. I can't do anything about it!"
But the elf's suggestion had broken something loose in her mind. She had never considered anything illegal to ensure her place on the Council; she had expected that the Council would act honorably and award her the position.
What if something did happen to one of the chosen? To Josiah, perhaps? Did he have any family to search for him if he were to disappear? He had only been at Darkbrook for a few months.
"This--Magdalen of yours. Who is she?" Althea tried to push the thoughts of actually acting out her fantasies about punishing someone out of her head, but they wouldn't leave. What if--what if she did? What if she--What if something did happen to Josiah? The Council would have to change their minds--wouldn't they?
Of all the names on the list, Josiah was probably the least known. The loner. Perhaps he was also an orphan. She could only hope.
"An--interested party," the elf said. "She will not harm you in any way. She only wishes to speak with you for a moment about your dreams. Nothing more."
Althea stared down at the letter. Was it possible to believe that she still had a chance? "And nothing will happen to me? I won't return to find that years have passed or anything stupid like that?"
She thought she saw the flicker of the elf's teeth when he smiled.
"You know we are bound under the Council's--rules just as anyone else," he said. "And time here is the same as time in Faerie--for the moment. You will be safe."
Still distrustful, Althea weighed her options. She could return to Darkbrook with her dreams in tatters and try to figure out something else to strive for. She could give up, and leave town, because she just knew everyone would know of the Council's choice and they would all talk behind her back.
Or she could go see what this Magdalen had to say. But elves were cruel, especially to humans, and she had already progressed through despair and into fury--all in one night.
If she could make it so Josiah Hunt had an accident--or, even better, vanished off the face of the earth--She stopped, then, both appalled and ashamed at her thoughts.
A thin voice in her head that sounded like a teacher protested that Josiah had done nothing to deserve such a fate. That he could not help the fact that someone had submitted his name, despite his age, and that someone on the Council obviously wanted him to be on that list. Thus excluding her.
Whatever he was so good at, the Council probably needed his power just as much as they needed Michael's brilliancy or Elaine's water witchery. Ben was another matter entirely, but Althea supposed someone well-versed in herbology would be a good choice.
But why Josiah?
What they didn't need, evidently, was another booklearned witch.
Althea took a deep breath. Still, it wasn't fair. She had been the only other possible candidate for the position, and Josiah had come to Darkbrook and won them over without lifting a finger.
Maybe he deserved to be brought down a notch or two. After all, he had ruined her life without even trying.
She stepped away from the tree and bent to pick up the letter. At the last moment, she left it where it lay and ground it down into the dirt with the toe of her boot. The pale parchment darkened and smoldered as she whispered a spell under her breath and watched the letter burn.
"I'll meet with your Magdalen," she said. "And all I will do is see what she has to say."
The elf bowed, and took her hand. "That is everything she desires," he said. "Please. Follow me."
Next update: April 6th
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