Page 21 of Faerie Gift

Oh.No. Dear God, no.

A second symbol…a second power.

I hurriedly tucked the test strip in my pocket and scanned the table in front of me for anything showing the symbol, feeling my own face turn a bit green under a swell of nausea.

Do not panic.Do not panic!Get yourself together,Tavi,or someone will know!

I skirted the edge of panic for a few minutes longer, nearly going over the edge when I saw nothing even remotely similar to the blue symbol.

A second power and a symbol I didn’t recognize.

This couldn’t be happening to me.

“Hey, what’s up? You look a little weird all of a sudden.”

Mike had noticed my reaction. Was I sweating?

“Nothing. Hot flash,” I supplied.

Leaves had said during the assembly: having a second power wasn’t possible. More than likely the strip was malfunctioning and I should request a new one, take a new test.

And then the thought occurred to me…

What if the test was picking up both of my halves? My fae half with its cognitive manipulation, and my—gulp—wolf half manifesting another, different power?

The Fae Academy for Halflings only admitted half fae, half human students. I’d glamoured my way in by causing my wolf shifter half to go undetected. That didn’t mean it was dormant. Headmaster Leaves had declared two powers impossible because humans possessed no such powers. Whereas I—

I struggled to get my breathing in check, especially when my heart rate galloped and the organ threatened to explode in my chest.

I had abadfeeling about this.

8

Another semester and another hour every day spent in the company of Professor Hoarfrost, the History of Faerie teacher whohatedme like it was his job.

I also wasn’t sure what I’d done to earn his intense brand of dislike but nothing I’d said until now had lessened it, and if it continued, the feeling would be mutual. I saw the way his loathing of me had intensified since last semester, when I’d tried to answer his questions and he’d chosen to pick Persephone instead, glowing at her correct answers and giving her extra points.

His intense dislike was clear in the way Hoarfrost stared me down when I took my seat. Hair the color of fog trailed below his shoulders, eyes of the exact same color boring into me, his lips pursed. If he could have frozen me into a statue, he would have. He had on a pair of pressed brown pants beneath his black academy robes, but the dark colors did nothing to detract from his icy eyes and pale skin.

“Attention! All right everyone, take your seats. This isn’t the time for you to lounge around acting foolish.” His pursed lips drew together further until they nearly went inside his body. “I realize everyone is excited about finding out their innate power. Use the enthusiasm for your lesson today. I don’t want to hear another peep out of any of you unless you’re answering a question when I call on you. Do you understand?”

Though I had little patience to listen to Hoarfrost drone about fae history, I set my chin on my palm and struggled to pay attention to his lecture.

I’d rather hang on his every word until they blurred together than risk him taking points away from me for no good reason.

“Continuing from our lectures last semester on Faerie politics, I’d like to speak today about the Elf and Fae Treaty of 1887,” he began. He tapped his fingers on the blackboard and text scrolled out without him having to write it. A fundamental teacher trick. “The two factions had warred over dominion of Faerie since time immemorial. Wars were fought and blood was spilled. The Elves claimed that the land where the king’s castle was erected belonged initially to one of their tribes. The Fae claim differently, of course. Only in 1760 did a tentative truce come into play thanks to the efforts of Splinterus the Just.”

I sat up straight, and before I had a chance to think about the repercussions, blurted out “It was 1762, sir.”

Oh no, I shouldn’t have said anything. Definitely shouldnothave saidthat.

Hoarfrost turned glacial cold eyes at me and tried to freeze my heart with a blink. “Excuseme, Miss Alderidge?”

I shrank down in my seat under the weight of his stare. “It was 1762, sir,” I repeated softly. I’d literally read the book for this semester three times over Christmas break. I was sure he’d gotten the date wrong.

But I still shouldn’t have called him out on it. I realized my mistake immediately.

Too late to turn it around now.

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