Page 25 of Fairies Never Fall

Plato blows his whistle and everyone around us perks up. I dare to take my eyes off Belle.

“A brief reminder of the rules,” he booms. “You must finish the raceon topof the board, standing. No hitting others with the paddles. No direct sabotage. You lose points for time in the water.” Several boos follow. “The ten fastest times will join the regatta. On the whistle, go!”

The first round is chaos. Of the four trialists, only two manage to stay on their board more than half the time. The other two give up and swim to the end before climbing back on. The stout, gray harpy in the lane closest to me makes a valiant attempt to propel herself with the actual paddle, but she alsokeeps falling into the water and having to climb back up, each time looking more sorry than the last. The rest don’t even try, using their hands, wings, and other limbs with various levels of effectiveness.

Belle nudges me with a bony elbow. “I’ll swim so fast, the time deduction won’t even matter.”

At this rate, her strategy could be a winning one.

Luckily, the next two groups seem to get the hang of it. I’m starting to get nervous, though. Paddle boarding sounded easy when I agreed to this.

Plato yells out the times as each competitor reaches the end, reminding them at the end of the round that their time in the water will be deducted. Behind him, Antoinette scribbles madly on her clipboard. My eyes drift to Lysander.

His wings wave gently, stirring the stray hairs that’ve escaped his updo. His eyes are fixed on the competition and he’s leaning forward slightly, engrossed. I gulp and quickly look away. The brief encounter on the roof is still seared into my brain. I said a lot of things without thinking. I was dazzled by his earnest honesty. Then I touched him, and his eyes seemed to burn with blue fire.

If he was a human I’d think he was interested. But something holds me back. Not just the fact that he’s a fairy and a prince — it’s something about the way he freezes when I touch him. Freezes, then melts completely.

Like he wants it, but he’s scared.

It makes me think of high school, when guys would stare, then blow me off if I approached them. They did it out of insecurity and inexperience — but if Lysander’s mixed signals stem from inexperience, I’m in bigger trouble than I thought.Virgin monsteris so far outta my wheelhouse it’s on the next ocean.

The whistle blows again, pulling my attention away from Lysander. It’s our turn. The other two in our group are a massive faun with long, white fur and curling horns, and our cook, Larch, who grins at me briefly. I nod back. Like me, he’s wearing a lifejacket, though I can’t imagine it doing much for him if he goes over. For a gargoyle, ‘stoneskin’ isn’t just a metaphor.

I put my board in the water and clamber on, getting a feel for it. True to her word, Belle gets in the water and disappears, with only her hands visible above the water as she holds onto the board from below. She must be able to breathe underwater.

Plato hands me my paddle with a rueful grin. “Good luck.”

“She’s definitely not allowed to drown me, right?” I mutter.

He winks and moves on to Larch. Time to focus on standing upright, I guess. It’s not as tough as I thought it would be once I get the hang of it. This is definitely the most ridiculous thing I’ve done since I left prison, though.

I white-knuckle the paddle and brace myself for Plato’s whistle.

“Go!”Preeeeeet!

Then I paddle like hell.

It’s surprisingly hard to concentrate when there are three monsters around you who’ve also never set foot on a paddle board, and whose center of gravity and overall physique definitely haven’t been accounted for by paddle board makers. I do my best to ignore the splashes and yelps. Belle shoots ahead, easily beating all of us, and climbs back on the board to finish standing. Then she leaps back into the water and does a victory lap. Her dark form shoots past me underwater and pops up on the far side of the pool, startling the big faun into falling off.

Larch is neck and neck with me, hunched low to his board, but his position makes it hard to use the long paddle and his weight sinks the board just under the surface, making it drag. I’m not doing too badly, all in all.

Distracted, I don’t notice the hands grabbing my board until it’s yanked out from under me and I’m toppling into the water.

I shout. The paddle goes flying. Something latches onto my ankle, and I flail and kick until my foot hits flesh and the hand releases me. Heart pounding, I flip the board and clamber back on, gasping.

The riiga shoots away underwater as I grab my paddle and straighten. Shouts ring from the bleachers.Lysander definitely saw that.I don’t dare look — instead I check the water for Belle’s presence, but she’s nowhere to be seen. I dig the paddle into the water and push toward the finish line. When my board hits the edge of the pool, the other lifeguard, Mara, hauls me in with her four hands.

Antoinette flutters around us. “Are you alright? Did you swallow any pool water? Do you need poison control?”

“I’m fine.” I unbuckle the lifejacket with hands that are not-so-steady. I guess I needed the damn thing after all. Strong swimmer or no, it’s tough to swim away when someone’s dragging you down.

“Belle!” Antoinette says sharply, turning to the riiga who’s trying to slink off to the showers.

Belle flinches. “It’s just instinct!”

“No way they’re gonna let her do the boat race after that,” Larch mutters to me, taking off his own lifejacket.

I follow him to the board rack. “What’s Antoinette so worried about?”

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