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“A risk,” Mother hissed back.
“How so?”
“Maverick is a warlock, and Astrid is taking after you more than she is me.”
The words seemed to flow through my head, caught as they were by the sweetness of the song. And I was so caught by them, I couldn’t even wonder over their meaning. It was as though the meaning of words was nothing to me. As if all I could do was listen to the melody of the voices and revel in it.
“If we have another, who knows what will come of it?” Mother continued. “I need to keep the children I have happy and healthy. My son is already in danger from my sister. She’ll try to turn him. I won’t risk putting another boy in jeopardy.”
Like taking control of a lucid dream, I willed myself to turn in the memory, to identify the speaker. Because, I realized with a jolt, this had to be my father. I wanted to get a look at the man who’d been responsible for half my DNA. But this was a memory, and I hadn’t turned then and that meant I couldn’t make myself turn now, in the memory. All I could see in my periphery was a flash of red-gold hair, precisely the same color as the curling aspen leaves on the ground.
“Then let me take them home,” he insisted. “My brother and I can protect them there.”
“And deny them the chance to ever learn magic? No. They need to stay with me. I’ll take care of things...” Mother’s voice had been hollow, almost threatening tears. “For now… I think we should stop seeing each other.”
“Tabitha—”
“I can’t,” she said in a choked whisper. “I can’t have all three of you and I know that. So, I have to… I have to choose my children. You must understand.”
“I do,” the man said with a sigh. A tall, lean shape then leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”
Then footsteps crunched over to me, and warm lips pressed to the top of my head. I laughed when around a dozen other faeries dogpiled us both, peppering my face with butterfly kisses.
“Your father loves you too, Astrid,” he whispered in my ear. “Never forget that.”
And then it was over. Just as quickly as it had come.
The song died in my ears and I was jolted back into reality. The gravity of the song lingered, pressing into my ears like a brand, even though the melody was now quiet. My chest ached, and tears were flowing freely down my cheeks. But more than that, there was a fine coating of golden dust on my lap and in a semicircle around where I sat. I smelled pumpkins and tasted cider. But strangest of all, I had a handful of the curling red-gold aspen leaves I’d seen in my vision. I let them slip to my fingers, too shocked by their appearance to do more than stare at them.
Had I just... pulled leaves out of my memory and made them real? That wasn’t possible, was it? Oh, Goddess, I didn’t think that was possible.
When I looked up, I found Professor Lavant staring at me with unnerving intensity. I cringed back into my pillow, sure I was about to be reprimanded for completely spacing out during the lesson, and for making a mess of the classroom.
Instead, he cleared his throat, forced a genial smile, and then said, “There you have it. All four songs. You all held up exceptionally well, even under indirect exposure. Next time I’ll have a guest from Winter in to demonstrate what active faerie compulsion looks and feels like. Representatives from the other courts have agreed to make appearances sometime before Yule. I think that’s where we’ll end things today. Why don’t all of you pack up and get some rest before your next lecture? Resisting faerie song can be taxing.”
As the students packed up their bags to leave, I moved to do the same. But before I could climb to my feet, Professor Lavant’s voice rang out.
“Ms. Depraysie, would you mind staying behind? I’d like to have a word with you.”
I heard a distinctive snicker from Vivian’s end of the room and sank even lower. Apparently, she’d gotten over the moment of weakness and had resumed regularly scheduled programming. I fidgeted nervously with the fringe on my cushion as she and the others trooped by, praying they wouldn’t notice whatever I’d done. Thankfully, they barely glanced my way.
The air stirred, bunched, and then coalesced as Professor Lavant gathered the songs and shoved them back into their respective jars. I wasn’t sure how he managed it, but it was mesmerizing to watch. I waited until he’d screwed the tops on the jars to approach him.
“You wanted to see me, Professor Lavant?” I asked nervously.
“Call me Basil, please,” he said with an amused twist of his lips. “‘Professor Lavant’ is so stuffy.”
That was weird but whatever. “Okay.”
Basil leaned against the table, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared down at me. He didn’t look angry, just curious.
“Did you know?” he asked.
“Know what?”
“That you’re part Fae?”
I blinked in shock, then stared down at my hands, still coated in golden dust and bits of leaves. Faerie? Was he saying that... that my other half wasn’t human at all? I’d always assumed the man who’d fathered me was a faceless, nameless man Mother had met at a gala or on a trip abroad. Someone who was well past his fifties by now. I’d only begun to suspect otherwise when my zoolingualism had started manifesting. But of all the things that I’d have guessed, Fae wasn’t one of them. I mean, where were the pointy ears? The attraction to colors of a particular court, the desire to do mischief?
