“Blair Crawford. One of the greatest telekinetic fae I’ve ever worked with, and a horrible person inside.”
I snort-laughed at the frank assessment.
“Are you supposed to say that about your students?” I inquired.
He shrugged. “I’m a powerful man. Powerful men can be forgiven for loose tongues. Watch out for her. I’m serious.”
“Okay. I will,” I told him. My mind was still on the wordtelekinetic. I didn’t know much about all the fae powers, just that they all fell into two categories, either healer or warrior. This was based on the two founding houses of magic: the House of War and Bone and the House of Light and Ether. Sorrel had a book on them, but I never bothered to care. Magic wasn’t a part of our life in Isariah, so I never put any energy into learning about it. Now I regretted that.
“You know, your little speech about proving that we are good people you can trust inspired me,” he said, stepping closer to me. “You don’t know me. I don’t know you. I’m willing to overlook your lineage in most cases, if you’re willing to trust me.”
Trust him? Like he’d just pointed out, I didn’t know him.
He seemed to pick up on my thoughts. “Trust that I want to help shape you, and your magic, into something safe and good for yourself and those around you.”
I swallowed hard and nodded, reminded of the part of the conversation yesterday when he and the queen spoke of me eventually succumbing to darkness.
“I am going to assume you know nothing of our history as fae?” he asked.
I nodded. “Pretty much nothing. I know about the two fae houses, but that’s about it.”
He walked over to a bookshelf and removed a leather-bound tome. Opening it to a specific page, he held it out to me. “I’d like you to read this out loud so I can assess your language comprehension and need for a tutor. It also might enlighten you on thetwohouses you just spoke of.”
A tutor? That was slightly offensive, but maybe he was right. I wasn’t the best reader. I was slow and sometimes the words scrambled on me and it took me a minute to find the line again. Was that going to be a problem? I hadn’t really thought of the educational aspect of school. Only the magic part worried me, until now.
I took the book from him, careful that he only touched my gloves when passing it to me.
“In the beginning, the fae were spilt, er, split into three houses.” I read slowly, dragging my finger across the line to hold my place like Sorrel taught me. “Wait, three?” I looked up at him with surprise.
He nodded. “Go on.”
“The House of War and Bone was for all warrior fae. They grouped together and learned to fight and protect those, great and small, for the bet-ter-ment of all fae.” I struggled with the long word and flushed with embarrassment.
Master Clarke was patient and said nothing.
“The House of Light and Ether was for all healing fae. They worked tirelessly to help those in need of medical restoration and coexisted nicely with the warrior fae, working together to make a har-mon-ious society,” I finished.
Master Clarke nodded. “Last house,” he said and tapped the page.
I swallowed hard, a sudden sense of impending doom falling over me. “But a third type of fae was discovered. Fae with magic so dark and powerful they made up an entirely new house. The House of Ash and Shadow. Their magic was destructive in nature, causing death, disease, war, and madness—” I stopped reading, my heart hammering against my chest, its erratic rhythm pounding in my ears and drowning out all other sound. I was suddenly overcome with terror that I might be reading about myself.
“Go on, Fallon, you must know,” he pressed.
I took in a cleansing breath and continued. “Madness and horror. Their magic did not seem to come from the Light, but elsewhere.” I gasped at the insinuation and looked up at Master Clarke in anger.
The Light was the creator of all good things. Everything decent and worthy came from the Light and then everything good returned back to it. To say that anything was not of the Light was…just mean. It meant it was evil.
He held his hands up in innocence. “I did not author this book.”
I flipped the book to the side and scanned the spine.
Fae House Historyby Rhea Swan.
I flipped back to the page I’d been reading. “The magic that the members of the House of Ash and Shadow carried infected everything they touched. The plants started to die, the people near them began to go mad, and the fae themselves started to have evil appetites. Appetites for…blood.”
A tendril of fear gripped my heart so tightly then, I nearly lost my breath. I slammed the book shut and looked at Master Clarke with wide eyes. “No.” The only fae that I knew of who had an appetite for blood were…Nightlings.
Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. It was too hot in here, too small, too dark. I dropped the book on the ground and scrambled to climb up one of the desks. When I reached the top, I fumbled with the window and threw it open, taking in a deep lungful of fresh air.
