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I leaned forward while listening to one story about a woman named Zansafa who charmed over thirty men into being in her harem. The lithe man at the front of the class, who stopped to roll his sleeve up to his elbows revealing a mass of dark tattoos, told the story with such a fervor that I wondered if he might be one of Zansafa’s lovers who had outlived her by centuries.
As he paced the class, telling the stories with such gusto that several girls were crying, I felt that someone was looking at me. It fizzled and popped through my bones, making me squirm at my desk.
“She was just horny,” a guy said louder than necessary, receiving a high-five from another guy next to him. They laughed while the rest of the class joined them but the teacher never missed a beat.
“No, she was a hero and a saint among the Fae. She was the warrior female the Fae world needed at that time. Recall the names of the males in her harem. Tell me one. Anyone.”
No one spoke up. I remembered several but didn’t want to be that girl, as Bain had labeled me.
“Remus,” that voice said. It slithered through the crowd of people around me, darted right into my ears and my soul.
The teacher snapped and a smile grew on his face, making his reddish beard move.
“Thank you, Bain. Remus was so caught up in his own depression and foreboding that he could barely live day to day. Zansafa plucked him from his lonely life and built him up slowly. It actually took her three years to court him. He was that deep in. But she loved him and showed him a better way. What did Remus become?”
A pixie-like girl with braids raised her hand.
“Yes, Hue?”
“Remus was the greatest conjurer of protection spells. He could even protect his queen from the other side of the world without laying eyes on her. He simply had to think of her and she was protected, even from death.”
“Excellent, Hue. Yes. Zansafa had a purpose and even though at last count she had thirty-two in her harem, all of them were loved.” He sighed and looked outside at the sun after walking over to the window. “And that’s the end of class, I’m afraid. Tomorrow, I will teach you about Clary, the pixie who…see you tomorrow.”
A collective groan resounded from the class. Bain was right. Rude but right.
History was so much better without the notebook.
As I picked up my bags, I looked over at him. He was now talking to the teacher, but as I moved toward the door, his gaze darted to me. I inhaled swiftly but kept moving.
Chapter Twelve
Since we had our last class together, Alara and I went to dinner together. “I was wondering if we always got room service,” I told her. “It was good but I like the idea of eating with everyone and socializing.”
“Then you’ll love this,” Alara chortled. “The only time dinner is delivered, unless someone is unwell of course, is on Testing day. At least so far as I know. But dinners here are famous, so I’m excited to get to finally be part of the gang. My older sister went here, and I visited campus a few times and took a few early admission classes, but I’ve never gotten to do the whole student dinner.”
“Food is pretty good, huh? That peri-berry muffin was amazing, by the way.”
“Yeah, it’s one of the few things they import from the other side.” Before I commented, she went on. “But while the food is pretty good, it’s, well, you’ll have to see for yourself.”
We headed down the library hallway, talking about our class. “Do you really think all that stuff works? The magical objects and music and all that?”
“Well, sure.” She cast a glance at me out of the side of her eyes. “I mean, what else would we do? Spells? We’re not witches after all.”
“No, we sure aren’t.” I knew that, but I was still having kind of a hard time with the fairy thing. I didn’t understand it. Like…was it just a different kind of people? Everyone here looked pretty human, well, except for the testing situation, and I’d about half convinced myself the wings were an illusion brought on by an intense situation.
Like, she was so emotionally overwhelming, I imagined that her friendly comforting hug was done with wings. Not that I’d ever thought that way before or even imagined it.
“I haven’t seen the dining hall somehow, where is it?” I was still lost half the time.
“Right up ahead. I hope you’re hungry.”
“I could eat.” But as we turned left down a short hallway and joined a flow of other students, I was more interested to hear what they all had to say than in eating. I’d grown up with the same friends my entire life, and coming here had been more jarring than I might allow myself to admit. Especially with all the confusion about how much was metaphor and hyperbole and how much was real.
Fairy history? Amazing, but nothing wilder than I’d read in some of my favorite novels. But was it real, or was it just legend?
If the stories were tall tales, the dining room was designed to take us all the way to fairyland. Rather than being a regular room at all, it was entirely enclosed in glass like a big greenhouse or something. And the thousands of plants and shrubs, many of them in full bloom, enhanced that impression.
“Oranges?” I reached out and caressed one but didn’t pick it. Dwarf trees lined the entry, which was a curved glass tunnel like you see in old elegant manors that have those big conservatories. Fruits of all kinds hung on the branches, and students did seem to be helping themselves to apples and peaches, pears and oranges, pomegranates, too. I was surprised they were all in season at the same time.
