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“Would you now?” Pushing up her glasses, Mrs. Hawthorn leans down, causing the girl to shrink low in her seat. “How would you do that when I’ve glamoured you into silence?”
The class goes completely still. Lily suddenly clutches at her throat. Her mouth opens . . . but not a word comes out.
Grinning, Mrs. Hawthorn breezes up the aisle and waves her hand, causing one word to appear over the chalkboard: power.
“The first lesson is this,” she calls out. “In Fae society, power is everything. We rise and fall with our ability to create it, wield it, and retain it. What are the three main components of power?” When no one says a word, she adds, “Anyone? Or is this entire class suddenly glamoured into silence too?”
“Magic?” someone calls out.
She nods. “Yes, magic in our society is very important to retaining power. That is why the Evermore, the highest ranking Fae in each court, do what?”
“They make rules allowing only their kind to perform a renewal ceremony,” Reina proudly answers. “Every time an Evermore renews, their power increases, while the magic of the lesser Fae has been slowly weakening over generations as it dies out with them.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Hawthorn says. “Controlled renewal is a controversial yet very effective rule that’s been in place for centuries.”
Renewal? I open my textbook and quickly search the glossary in the back until I find the word.
Renewal: When a Faerie’s soul enters a new body. The soul retains any magic from previous lives, and, over time, can generate powerful magic. The Faerie lifespan typically runs around a thousand years, so renewal ceremonies are held every millennium. That explains the name, at least. Evermore. Because they will literally live ever-freaking-more, body hopping like the characters in a bad science fiction movie. The idea weirds me out.
Someone calls my name, bringing me back to reality.
Mrs. Hawthorn stares at me expectantly. “Are you with us now, Summer? Good. I asked what the second rule of power is. The rest of the class doesn’t know. Do you?”
Accordingly, my mind goes blank. I pinch my leg beneath my desk to refocus my thoughts. Who do I know that has power . . . ? Cal and his father immediately come to mind. I’d never wondered how, exactly, they came into such power.
They didn’t have magic. They had money, of course. But it was more than that . . .
“Influence?” I say.
She raises an eyebrow. “It that a question or an answer? If you want me to believe what you say, perhaps you should learn to influence me.”
Someone snickers, but she holds up a hand. “The delivery needs work, but Summer is right; influence is the second component of power. With enough magic, anyone can make someone do something. But if you can learn to influence them instead, to make them think your goal is what they desire most, you are one step closer to ultimate power. Strong magic and the skill of influence is a dangerous combination.”
“And the third component of power?” Reina asks, pencil poised over her notebook, ready to scribble down the answer and learn world domination. God help us all.
Mrs. Hawthorn’s lips curve into a grin that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “The first student who answers that correctly will receive an automatic A in this class. But”—she raises a hand in protest as the class tries to throw out answers—“answer carefully because you only get one opportunity.”
The voices go quiet as she adds the first two components of power—magic and influence—on the chalkboard. Number three goes just below.
As she has us open our books to chapter one, I stare at the empty number three spot, wondering what the third component could be.
If surviving the Fae requires power, then I should probably learn the answer. And, judging by the way Reina and her friend not-so-quietly whisper about me, I should find it soon.
19
“I’ve seen zombie movies with less gore,” Mack declares, her nose scrunched. “The darkling just munched on the poor Fae girl’s face like it was a deep-dish supreme pizza.”
The girl sitting with us, Evelyn, a Summer Court shadow, groans and shoves her orange lunch tray across the table. “Thanks for that. I’d finally just managed to scrub that image from my brain.”
I pluck the uneaten apple off her tray without even thinking. Hoarding food becomes an instinct when you’ve spent years starving. But the video seriously dampened my appetite, and I pocket the fruit for later.
Watching a human monster rip someone’s face off has that effect.
I glance over at Evelyn. So far, she’s the only shadow who will dare sit with us. Honestly, she’s sweet but not incredibly bright, and I think she truly has no idea I’m the equivalent of social kryptonite. Mack said Evelyn comes from a long line of legacies and that her parents infused the school with a huge sum to get her admitted.
I don’t doubt that for a moment. Everything she wears—from her sparkling diamond earrings to her immaculately fitted black pantsuit—looks expensive. Her vibrant red hair hangs just past her shoulders, the silky-smooth strands curling under. Not a split end in sight.
I finger the broken ends of my own wild, wavy hair, suddenly all too aware of its deficiencies.
