Failing the Challenges would be bad. Aside from the fact that he might actually die at the hands of the judges, the consequences of failure if he survived weren’t much better: Exile. An Exile from the Faerie community was completely alone. Brendan would have to live in the Human world knowing all that was closed off to him. He’d only just begun to explore the many gifts his Faerie heritage offered him. Though he’d been confused at first, as his senses expanded, heightened, and changed, he realized that living without his Faerie abilities would be a bleak existence. Watching his family and friends age and die while he hung on, frozen while the world changed around him, filled him with dread.
Also, he was now just beginning to understand what was at stake for the whole world, Humans and Faeries both. The world wouldn’t survive if Humans continued to poison it and Faeries remained aloof. He’d begun to see a place for himself in the battle ahead to change the future. He didn’t want to lose that opportunity.
Finally, he had grown to love his Faerie family: Uncle Og, Auntie Deirdre, and Uncle Greenleaf. They were all a bit mad, but he’d miss them if he were Exiled. They really were his family now.
And Kim, Brendan thought. She’s been there the whole way, even before I knew who I really was. She’s more than a friend… He let that thought hang, afraid to examine his feelings for her more closely.
After a lunch eaten alone in the cafeteria, he went to the washroom. He was hoping for a moment of peace away from all the other students. With a sigh of relief, he found the boys’ room empty.
He’d forgotten that BLT was in his jacket pocket, so when she suddenly spoke, he jumped about ten feet.
“What are you so mopey about?” she said, crawling out of Brendan’s pocket as he splashed water on his face at the sink.
“Do you mind?” Brendan asked. “This is the boys’ restroom.”
“Relax, pal,” she said. “What’s the big deal?”
“Well,” Brendan said, at a loss. “It’s just not cool.”^ 53
“What’s the problem now? Your face is so long you might step on it.”
“I’m just worried about… well, everything, and I think I have a right to be.”
“You’ve gotta get your head in the game, boyo!” BLT flew out of his pocket and up onto his shoulder. “If you go into the Proving this worried then you’re halfway to failing already. Look in the mirror.”
Brendan raised his head and looked at his face. A year ago, he would have seen a pimply, gawky kid with braces. But now the face looking back at him was hardly recognizable. He willed his glamour to drop and saw how much he’d changed. His hair had been a dirty blond before but now was a deeper, more lustrous gold. His eyes sparkled deep green with flecks of amber. His face was leaner and the bones more refined, and there wasn’t a pimple in sight.
Sure, he’d changed on the outside, but the changes on the inside were much more profound. He had learned more about his heart and his soul in the last few weeks than he’d ever thought possible.
“Do I have the strength to pass these tests? Am I good enough, B?”
BLT tugged on his ear. “Never doubt it, Brendan. Never doubt it.”
“Who are you talking to?” said a voice behind Brendan.
BLT dove into Brendan’s pocket to avoid detection. Brendan whirled, raising his glamour. He found a senior student standing on the bathroom tiles with a confused look on his face. He must have been in one of the stalls when Brendan had come into the bathroom. Brendan cursed himself silently for not being more careful. “Huh?” he stammered. “Uh, nobody! I was talking to myself.”
“Yourself?” The older boy frowned. “What are you doing that for?”
“A play!” Brendan said quickly. “Auditioning for a play for next semester.” Boy, that excuse is getting worn out!
“Yeah? Well, rehearsing in the men’s room is a little weird, dude. Why don’t you…?”
The boy didn’t finish his suggestion. He stopped speaking and just stood, staring, his eyes slightly out of focus. He had a dreamy, peaceful expression as though he were trapped in the middle of a daydream.
“Hey,” Brendan said. Then louder, “Hey!” He waved his hand in front of the boy’s face but he didn’t react.
“What’s the matter?” Brendan asked. “Are you okay?”
“This is a Faerie glamour,” BLT said, climbing out of Brendan’s pocket. “It’s a powerful one, too. Can’t you sense it?”
Brendan closed his eyes and concentrated. He did sense it, a tingle of energy or ambient power like a charge of static electricity hanging in the air.
“You’re right,” Brendan said softly. He opened his eyes. The boy was still staring dreamily into space. Brendan felt confident the boy wasn’t in any danger of hurting himself, but just to be sure, he took him by the arm and gently forced him to sit on the tile floor with his back to the wall. Satisfied, Brendan left the bathroom.
The hall was full of people in the same state of bemusement. Students and teachers shared the same vacant gaze, their eyes slightly unfocused as if they were straining to see a speck of dust on the tips of their noses. Brendan made his way up the hall, weaving through them as he sought out the source of the glamour. He could feel a current of energy in the air that led him on as though he were a piece of iron seeking a magnet. As he walked down the hall, he passed Chester Dallaire outside the library doors. The large boy stood, eyes half closed. Brendan glanced at Chester’s face as he walked by, wondering who had caused this mass dream state.
The current led him down the main hall and into the principal’s office. At the front desk, Miss Conacher, the secretary, sat looking blankly at her pen while a female student stood in dreamy silence holding a doctor’s note limply in her hand. Brendan walked past them and into the open door of Ms. Abernathy’s office.
The vice-principal sat behind her desk. Her mouth hung open. She was staring into space, her glasses slightly askew, but otherwise seemed unharmed. She wasn’t alone in the room. Standing at the window with his back to Brendan was a tall, slight Faerie in a finely tailored, shimmering blue suit. His chestnut hair hung loose over his shoulders.
“Ah,” the Faerie said musically, without taking his eyes off the vice-principal. “You are here. How lovely.”
“What’s going on?” Brendan demanded. “Who are you? What have you done to them?”
The Faerie turned lazily around to face Brendan.
Tall and lean, he radiated power, setting Brendan’s nerves jangling. It was like standing next to a massive electrical transformer. The Faerie’s face was beautiful, but there was a cruel twist to his smile as he gazed at Brendan with coldly amused brown eyes.
“You’re… ”
“Lord Pukh.” The Faerie smiled, bowing deeply. “At your service, Brendan Morn.” Without waiting for Brendan to respond, Pukh spread his arms and did a little spin. “What do you think? It’s an Armani. The fabric and workmanship are not quite up to my usual standard but the Humans have certainly made strides.”
“What have you done to them?” Brendan demanded again. He felt ridiculous and powerless next to Pukh, but he tried to keep the fear from his voice.
“Don’t worry.” Pukh waved dismissively. “They are quite safe. Their senses are fogged with glamours. For them, the moment is frozen. They will remember nothing. They’ll wake up quite refreshed, in fact. Your concern for them is touching, though. Like a child caring for his pets.”
“They aren’t pets,” Brendan said angrily. “They’re people.”
“Well, I’d disagree with you there, I’m afraid. They make a mess everywhere they go. They are ignorant of the true nature of the world, like animals. And I must say, they have a very unpleasant stink. I’m sure you’re used to it by now, having lived among them for so long.”
“They are cute,” a childish voice lisped. Brendan whirled to see the tiny female Faerie who had ridden at Pukh’s side the night before stroking the hair of the secretary, Miss Conacher. “So fragile.” The stroking hand sprouted long, razor-sharp claws and she drew their tips along the secretary’s vulnerable throat.
“Stay away from her.” Brendan took a step to intervene, but suddenly his wrist was clamped in a powerful grip. He turned to find that it was the tall, silver-haired Faerie he’d seen at the head of the Wild Hunt the night before.
This guy was fast. Brendan hadn’t even sensed his approach. He was just there, looming over Brendan with his silver head brushing the ceiling. Brendan looked up into the cold grey eyes and saw no spark of Human emotion. He’s a Warp Warrior, Brendan thought with some dread.
