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He beamed at me, suddenly excited by the discovery I was, inevitably, going to make. “It’s a bell.”
“I can see it’s a bell.”
“So, what do you do with a bell?”
I rolled my eyes. Fine, I’ll play your stupid game. I shook the bell hard, and its chirpy ring filled the stone room. I jumped three feet back when a tiny being with translucent wings popped up out of nowhere. Out of thin air! There was nothing there one second, and the next, this short, curious creature materialized, its elegant wings flapping relentlessly to keep her 13-inches-body in the air.
“What the… What is… Who are you?” I finally managed to address the creature in a decently polite manner.
“I am Corri. At your service, Mistress.”
I blinked once, twice. Then pinched myself. I’d resisted the urge a few minutes ago, but I just couldn’t take it anymore. I had to make absolutely sure I wasn’t dreaming. I heard Morningstar laugh, and he was soon joined by Celine. Marvelous!
“Father, explain!” It was the first time I was calling him that, but it was fine. It was more out of anger than out of… anything else, really. His smile turned into a knowing grin, which told me it hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“This is a pixie. A small supernatural being whose sole purpose is to serve. Very few people have one because they are so incredibly expensive. Haven’t you seen any pixies at the Academy?”
“No.”
“Well, it appears the rumors are right. Since Headmaster Colin has been instated, the bar has dropped. What will become of us if this generation of students can’t even afford their own pixies?”
I ran my hand through my hair, pulling at a particularly stubborn knot. The slight pain helped clear my mind. The pixie… Corri was still flapping her long, graceful wings maddeningly fast. I extended my right arm.
“Please, sit. You’re driving me crazy.” I must have sounded harsher than I wanted, because her smile turned into a frown, and her eyes filled with sadness. “I’m sorry, I…” She sat down on my arm, nonetheless. “I’m not used to seeing someone… err… fly?” That made no sense. Words! Where were my words?
“She will do anything you ask,” Morningstar continued. “It’s her sole purpose.”
“So, you said pixies are expensive… Does this mean you bought her?”
“Of course I bought her! For you. You must have a pixie, Mila. I honestly thought most of your peers already had one, and it was killing me to know you spent the entirety of year one without a pixie of your own.”
I cocked an eyebrow and popped my hip. I knew my demeanor screamed sarcasm, but I didn’t care by that point. He was pushing all my buttons.
“If you were so concerned I didn’t have a pixie, then why did you wait for over a year to come see me?”
There it was again. The discomfort caused by my direct question made him avert his gaze and study the steel door with interest, as if he was suddenly wondering whether it was solid enough to keep possible intruders out.
“Nevermind,” I sighed.
“We will have this conversation one day, I promise,” he said in a low, thoughtful voice. “And then, you will understand.”
“Can’t wait.”
The blade of his scythe couldn’t have found a better moment to start glowing eerily. The faded red light coming off it danced on the walls and bathed the steel doors of the vaults in bloody shades of scarlet.
He sighed. “Duty calls. I must leave you now, but I will do my best to see you at dinner.” He looked at the pixie. “Corri, do me a favor and take her shopping. Help her choose clothes, accessories, bags… anything she wants.” He winked at me. “Promise me you won’t go easy on that new card of yours. Make me proud, Mila Morningstar.”
With that, he swung the scythe in front of him and was gone in a cloud of black smoke. The smoke dissipated, and the spot where he’d been a moment before was empty.
“How did he…”
Celine looked at me, confused. “He teleported. He is needed for a reaping, of course. I’m frankly surprised he found the time to stop by. Mr. Morningstar is the busiest Violent Reaper I know. Now come on, darling. Let’s get out of this hell hole.” She headed out of the room and toward the stone bridge, constantly chatting over her shoulder. “I mean, it’s not a hell hole. Don’t tell anyone I said that. I love my job, you see,” she giggled mischievously. “But it’s quite damp and
stuffy down here, don’t you think? It makes my hair frizzy.”
CHAPTER TEN
Corri. My arm was starting to ache, which meant I had to find her a better place to sit or get used to the incessant flapping of her wings. We were in front of the bank now, and Morningstar’s car was still there. I figured he was probably going to come get it later. Or send his pixie to do it. For sure, he had to have a pixie. Right? Since he was such a huge promoter of tiny, winged slaves…
