"Sit," she told them. "There. In a row."
All four sat.
So Rain moved before them. "Ms. Rhodes, can I break this vow thing they have going on?"
"You shouldn't," she said.
And now she had my attention as well. "Why not?"
"Because we do not know the vow, curse, enchantment, or reason for their silence. A mere promisemightbe ok to break, but if there's a deeper, magical reason, you'd kill them, Rain."
"Why?" I asked, thinking of my own curse, the one my mother had put on me.
"Because some magics are woven into our own power. If Rain negates that, she removes our life force. We are magical things. At best, a fae would become mortal, living a standard human life. At worst, they would wither quickly, no different than if you bled them out. That's why I've never suggested it. I really don't want the Morrigan killing anyone she doesn't have to."
"I'm on board with that," Rain agreed, stepping back.
"But I got something," I said. "It seems the stabby one is convinced the faelings were bred for a purpose. Since most of them are Summer, I'm going to guess she thinks this is it. I'm just not sure what 'this' is." So I looked at the girl I'd led down here. "Care to share?"
She shook her head.
"I also know," I went on, "that their parents are aware. I'm going to assume their whole community is as well. The ones picked for these attacks have to be powerful enough, yet a strong faeling is basically a weak fae."
"But few of them realize that," Ms. Rhodes pointed out. "Our school is filled with faelings. We only have some of the teachers and you five students who are pure. Here on Earth, using our abilities to the fullest is considered a bad idea, since humans would have far too many questions, so it's avoided."
"Which means," Wilder told the group, "you were the sacrificial lambs. Replaceable. Useless."
"Stop," Ms. Rhodes said gently. "I think they have enough to deal with."
"They think they're earning a place in my mother's new court. They don't realize she'd be happiest without any whining,sniveling, simpering fools to bother her. Or so she's said many times. They have no idea my mother is willing to kill anyone who disappoints her, and that she wants the power of Winter for one reason, and one reason only." I stepped closer to the group, making sure they were paying attention. "Now listen to me. I am fae. I am pure fae, born from two monarchs. I cannot lie, so when I say this, you know it is true."
The girl I'd escorted nodded her head nervously. The rest just stared at me as if wishing they weren't hanging on my words.
"Queen Titania only wants the power of Winter so she can make sureno oneelse hasanymagic. If she, and she alone, wields the power, then she will be unstoppable. Her goal is to subjugate us all."
And they quickly looked at each other in complete silence.
"I think you've said enough," Ms. Rhodes told me. "Torian, your sister is in her suite. Rain, take Wilder to the nurse's office. I want none of you alone right now. That includes you, Your Highness."
"Yes, General," I said, dipping my head. "Order heard."
"Then obey," she told me, shooing us out.
We went, with Rain trailing out last, looking back a few times. Yet once we were outside, she gestured up the hall toward the nurse's area. "Do you think that will change anything?" she asked me.
Wilder huffed once. "Tor just put something else in their minds, Rain. They will likely be expelled. Their parents will take them home, where they will be treated as failures - or so it sounds. When they're trying to figure out what they've done wrong, they'll think about what he said. They'll consider the possibility that this is all built on a lie."
"And," I added, "they might tell others. Saying it came directly from the Summer Prince? That adds even more weight."
"Maybe," Rain said. "Or maybe the groups don't even know each other? I mean, we're all trying to do what we think is right. The problem is we don't agree on what is right, so is there any way to fix that part?"
"Nope," Wilder said. "See, some people are selfish, Rain. Some are too busy, too stupid, or too misinformed to believe the truths we accept. Then there's the fear."
"What fear?" she asked.
I gave Wilder a dirty look, but answered. "The fear of it all being real," I said. "The fear that we can't change it."
"He means stop her," Wilder clarified.
