Page 11 of The Cursed Fae

Eyes wide, I turned to Astrid. She smiled, but her eyes were heavy with sadness. “That's my cue.”

Before Astrid rose from her seat, a woman with frizzy hair and mismatched snow boots burst into the auditorium. She hurried to where Nana and the chancellor still stood side by side and jabbed an accusatory finger.

“What happened to Melissa Derringer wasn't an accident,” she hissed. “Neither was what happened to my Raymond.”

The assembly hall descended into chaos.

Chancellor Keene dismissed the students to class, while Nana dealt with the hysterical woman making accusations. I wanted to stay and eavesdrop, but the tide of students moving toward the exit doors was too powerful. There was also the steel in my great-grandmother's expression when our eyes locked over the crowd. Nana pursed her lips and nodded along, listening to the gesturing woman in front of her while sending me away with her stare.

What the hell is going on? I wondered.

Calculus with Professor Matterhorn was first on my Tuesday-Thursday schedule. Belle was in the same class and offered to play tour guide in Morgan's absence. Fern walked as far as the main hall with us before splitting off toward her Introduction to Business class.

I'd thought the roommates would be just as eager to gossip about the scene in the auditorium as they had been over Missy's death, but neither girl said a word about their dead classmates. I couldn't find a tactful way to ask, and finally decided subtlety was overrated.

“Who's Raymond?” I asked Belle once we'd taken seats in the back of Professor Matterhorn's classroom.

Belle's eyes darted around the room. “He was a caster.”

“Like Missy?”

She shifted, crossing her legs beneath the desk. “Sort of. Missy is—was—hybrid. Half-caster, half-fae .”

“What happened to him?”

Belle's eyes made another circuit of the surrounding area while she chewed her lower lip. “He drowned while night swimming in the cove.”

My eyebrows drew together. “How is that related to Missy's death?”

Belle hesitated. “It's not.”

Professor Matterhorn's deep tenor filled the room. “Let's begin.”

I faced forward, positive there was more to the story than Belle let on. She'd paused a heartbeat too long before answering my last question. There was a connection, however tenuous, between the two students’ deaths.

Astrid arrived fifteen minutes later, earning her the honor of writing the first homework problem on the class tablet to be projected. Her calculations didn't impress Professor Matterhorn, who was quick to voice his displeasure. Not that Astrid cared. Not even after he assigned her an extra set of equations due on Thursday. The class groaned when Professor Matterhorn extended the additional homework to the rest of us.

My great-grandmother waited for me outside of the classroom when I emerged with Belle and Astrid after the fifty-minute lecture. She gave my two new friends a slight nod of acknowledgement. Both dipped their heads in a sign of respect.

“Hello, ladies,” Nana said.

“Hello, ma'am,” Belle and Astrid muttered in unison.

I watched the exchange, a small frown tugging at the corners of my mouth.

“How about some tea, dear?” my great-grandmother asked, turning her gaze on me.

There were two dead children, and she wanted to drink tea?

“Sure,” I said. “But I have another class soon.”

She waved off my protest. “Nonsense. I'll speak to Caity myself. Let's go.”

Waving goodbye to Astrid and Belle, I followed her to a small lounge tucked in the corner of an empty corridor. It seemed she'd planned this while Professor Matterhorn droned on about integrals, because someone had already set out a silver teapot and white teacups on a side table. Nana poured us both tea, adding two lumps of sugar and a splash of milk to mine and double each in hers.

“What happened in the auditorium must have been upsetting for you, dear,” she said after a long moment.

I frowned. “Not compared to some.”

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