My grandmother stood justinside the gates with a platter of cookies, her smile welcoming and knowing.
Because she’d probably foreseen that trial outside the gates.
A head’s up would have been appreciated, but that wasn’t her way. Fortune Fae never wanted to alter fate, just project potential paths. And I’d made it my life’s work to alter my own—hence Kols standing beside me.
My grandmother cast a cursory glance over him, her blue eyes taking on an appreciative gleam as she studied his hair.
I arched a brow, daring her to say something.
She didn’t.
Instead, she held out the treats for everyone to enjoy while formally introducing herself to Zeph and Kols. I didn’t partake in the cookies because I knew what they meant—more bad news.
“Take them on a tour,” she advised. “Then come see me afterward.”
I dipped my chin in agreement, knowing she meant for me to visit her, not the others. But a glance at Zakkai told me he saw right through the act and he would be attending that meeting with me.
I’d hidden a lot from him over the years. However, he always seemed to know, like he could remember the timelines just like me. I knew he couldn’t actually recall them because that was impossible—his memory had been altered with all the others.
Although, his Quandary Blood ability probably allowed him to sense those alternate timelines. Or perhaps the manipulation of the power was what he felt.
Regardless, he’d suspected my interference and questionable allegiances our entire relationship. Which meant he would either follow me to the meeting or attend at my side.
The latter was preferred, especially as we both were tied to Aflora now.
She walked along beside me as I provided the tour my grandmother suggested. “It’s similar to the other Academy, at least in terms of architecture. But this campus doesn’t have a Death Blood dorm or building, or an Elite Blood, or anything categorized. All the classes are combined because the majority of the fae are Quandary Bloods. However, there are a few from every type. There are also a handful of other fae, like Hell Fae, who attend. It’s part of Lucifer’s arrangement with my grandmother.”
Among other things.
I didn’t understand everything they’d worked out as their deal predated my existence by several centuries, but I gathered educational opportunities were involved.
“These are the dorms,” I said, gesturing to a series of gothic style buildings. They were reminiscent of the other Academy grounds, framed with darkness and a high moon, but they weren’t exclusive to a single Midnight Fae type. And they didn’t require spells for entry.
Gargoyles moved around more here, walking or flying to different locations, rather than residing behind doors.
They bowed to Aflora as she passed, their reverence palpable. But she was too busy studying the campus to notice.
“You don’t have charcoal blades,” she noted, gazing out over an obsidian courtyard of sharp rocks and dangerous grooves.
I caught her elbow as she bent to touch the ground. “Don’t.”
She frowned at me, then gasped as a swirl of fire erupted from the center into a geyser of furious flames. “Mother Earth…”
A few passing fae tossed sparks into the pit, their cerulean embers dancing with the red and yellow flickers. Then it all whirled together into a tornado of heat and sucked the air around it right back down into the hole, disappearing.
“It’s like… like a burning thwomp?” she guessed.
“Only worse,” I replied. “There are certain aspects of the Hell Fae realm that couldn’t be erased, so my grandmother altered the paradigm to accept the nuances.”
“That’s fascinating.” Kols had gone to his haunches on the cobblestone path, his burnt gold gaze on the black rocks. “I can feel the merging of magic.”
I nodded. “Yeah, certain areas of the paradigm are stronger than others.”
“The meadow?” Aflora wondered.
“Is in a neutral area. Not all of the Hell Fae realm is fire and heat. It’s… sporadic.” And why other fae refused to visit.
Well, that and the Hell Fae didn’t take kindly to visitors. They were all shunned abominations, with Constantine Nacht being enemy number one among them.