Mickey shook his head. “Can’t. There’s something else that requires my attention.”
“It can wait,” Maeve replied. “The investiture is in two weeks and everyone will soon find out that Kella’s magicless. Nothing you need to do supersedes protecting her from those who would take advantage of her handicap.”
“Do you really think you need to tell me that? I’ve already talked to Bridgette—Kella will be fine.”
Maeve’s eyes narrowed.
“Or,” I said, piping up, “I can just solve everyone’s problems and not go to school. No one needs to guard me—or whatever you do with magicless heirs—and I won’t be around a sketchy pedophile. Win-win.”
Maeve’s sharp eyes bore into mine. “First, he is not a pedophile. You are of age—”
“But I’m seventeen and he’s at least in his mid-twenties.”
Mickey snorted. “You’ve got the ‘at least’ part right.”
Maeve shot him a glare before looking back at me. “Second—and this is the more important point—you can’t afford not to go. Yes, by yourself, you’re defenseless, but if the council allows you to shelter here, your subjects will interpret that as weakness. Some fae will even come after you like the vultures they are. You must show them that while you are weak, those who support you are strong and we will triumph.”
There was a fierce gleam in Maeve’s eyes, and I knew beyond any doubt that unless I was dying, I was going to school.
Mickey leaned back in his chair. “Maeve’s right. You’ve got to go. Don’t worry, I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
“Wait, you’re sending me into O’Faolain’s class alone when he might already know I have no magic? What, you want me turn into a slobbering pile of hormones? In public?”
By the look on Maeve’s face, it seemed like she agreed with me one hundred percent. Mickey waved away my concerns. “Bridgette will be there. Just continue to act normally while the council organizes effective countermeasures. You’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be fine,” I echoed. “Sure, I’ll be going into the class of a full-grown elf who wants to brainwash me so he can be my consort and we can make baby heirs, but I’ll be fine.”
Mickey’s eyes widened at the mention of making babies, but he shook his head. “He won’t try anything today. No one but the council—and maybe Seamus’s wife—know yet, since Maeve only informed the council last night.”
My expression must have said it all, because Mickey added, “You’ll be fine. Bridgette’s planning on going to his class with you. And speaking of which…” He looked over to the time on the microwave. “If you don’t leave now, you’ll miss the bus.”
I looked between him and Maeve.
“Go on,” Maeve said.
“Unbelievable,” I said, grabbing my book bag.
Mickey shook a warning finger at me as I stood up, scraping the chair against the floor. “Don’t let O’Faolain get to you.”
“Thanks for that, deserter.”
My hand was on the front door handle when he called down the hall, “Have fun!”
“Right.”
Riding the big yellow bus was annoying, but today I found myself appreciating the drawn-out ride. It gave me time to think about Maeve and her council’s “effective countermeasures.” What would they do, hire a gazillion bodyguards so people wouldn’t shooting embarrassing charms at me? I could see it now—me surrounded by twenty griffin bodyguards because I was some magicless freak. Humiliating.
No, there had to be another way. A way that I didn’t come across as the wimpy kid who had to get the adults to protect her against the magical fae bullies. Acting normal was easy enough for Maeve to say—she wasn’t the one that had to sit through Mr. O’Faolain’s class. Now that I understood what he was,and that he’d used magic to “charm” me, I needed to come up with an excellent defensive strategy.
My eyes narrowed as I settled into my game face. What I needed to figure out was how to get through the next couple of days without turning into a slobbering, smitten idiot in front of O’Faolain when he found out he could entrance me—not sure what that entailed or why he didn’t do it earlier, but it sounded really bad.
At least my dad—my fake dad—taught me something about winning fights like this; the best defense was a good offense. Make them think your weakness was your strength.
And the more I thought about it, the clearer it became that I needed to convince them I would make their lives miserable if they did something stupid—like turn me into a love-struck idiot in front of the entire class on my first day of school.
All I needed for this to work was attitude, which wasn’t a problem. Simply visualizing O’Faolain was enough to make my lips curl in disgust.
I jumped off the bus, marched up to the school doors, and shoved them open, almost bowling over Bridgette, who was waiting just inside.
“Kella!” Bridgette yelped, dodging the glass door. “What are you…” She trailed off as I walked right past her and down the hall toward my homeroom.
“Hey!” I heard her quick steps as she rushed to catch up with me, reaching for my elbow. “Maeve told me what was going on. Don’t worry about O’Faolain’s class. We’ve got someone else in there to keep an eye on things.”
That should have been reassuring, but it wasn’t. Not when I had no idea who it was and if I should trust them. It wasn’t like whoever it was had helped out that first day, anyway—that’d been all Mickey.
“Okay,” I said, still speeding to class, determined to get this over with.
I stormed into the classroom, earlier than most everyone else, including O’Faolain.
And then I waited as people trickled in.
People, of course, was a rather loose term. I studied them with renewed interest. A curvy, long-limbed brunette sat down with a thump in the far left corner. Her willowy shadow stretched high enough that it nearly brushed the ceiling. From Mickey’s description, she had to be a druid. A trio of girls skipped in, their brightly-colored clothing and clinking bracelets leaving me to
