Page 26 of House of Ydril

“Holy shit,” I hear Nuala say, “Quinn, those are your parents.”

I feel dizzy. “What is my name?” I ask without looking away from the mirror, my voice filled to the brim with palpable tension.

This time, it shows me a piece of yellowed paper that looks like a birth certificate. It has the word Khuyin written on it. And unlike any of the countless words I’ve heard in my life, this one makes me want to laugh and cry, all at the same time.

Chapter thirteen

It’sableakmorningin early November when I rush out of the cafeteria, barely saying bye to surprised Nuala. Taking two steps at a time as I climb the stairs to D7, my lips are curled into a smile.

It’s been almost two months since I found out who my parents are. Now, I’ve spent most of that time trying to learn more.

I’ve gone back to the Olarel Room, but the Mirror had no more answers for me.

I’ve dug through both well-known and obscure books, on the House Olarel, on famous faes, on the history of the Originals…

I’ve never told them why I’m asking, but I’ve even questioned every professor who teaches anything remotely related or could have personally known them.

So far, it’s all trying to convince me that the House Olarel really did go extinct. But I know the truth about the family tree, so it feels like someone tried to literally erase my parents from existence.

So in a way, I’ve been feeling like I can’t exist either. At least not here. I’ve even tried to find a loophole. I know I’m required by law to be here for the next four years, but I hoped that the faculty could make an exception for me. Not a chance in hell, as it turns out.

But this morning, Nuala and I were talking shit about the professors and she got all weird when I started commenting on Professor Byrne. Telling me to chill because that man helped get her mischievous brothers out of trouble so many times, her family will be in his debt for all eternity.

That made me think. By the way he talked about things, I always thought that Professor Byrne was a newcomer at the Academy, which is exactly why I haven’t asked him if he knew my parents.

But that’s all about to change because I’m on my way to his class. I might even get in a bit earlier, which would mean I wouldn’t have to wait for him to finish the lecture to ask what I’m dying to know.

The door to D7 is open and I can already hear the loud chatter coming from within. It’s the biggest classroom because Theory of Magic is something you have to take regardless of your bloodline. Which equalsa lotof students.

When I walk in, I see that they’ve all already claimed their spots at the two-seat wooden desks placed in neat rows. They’re talking amongst themselves, but it’s all a lot more civil than it usually is because the professor, as it turns out, is already in. He’s at the pulpit, hastily scribbling something in his papers.

I smile and walk straight up to him. He raises his eyebrows as he looks up at me from his writings. “Morning, Quinn. Can it wait ‘till we’re done with the class?”

“Of course,” I blurt out, trying to hide my disappointment.

I turn around and go for one of the desks to the left of the pulpit. I sit next to a shifter girl whose name I don’t know. We nod to each other and I turn to stare at the blackboard when I hear my phone ping.

“Where are you?” the text says. The sender is just a string of numbers.

For a second, I frown. Then it hits me. Faust. I’ve already received a couple of his texts in our group chat, including the one he sent yesterday about some meeting that they’re probably finishing right about now. But I haven’t saved his contact. Out of some kind of childish spite, I guess.

But to think that he’s gone and sent me a private message… It sends a rush of excitement through my body, making me feel strangely lightheaded.

I force myself to tear my eyes away from the text and lock my phone. I can’t think about that right now. I have something important to focus on.

When Professor Byrne finally finishes his scribbling and greets us all, I almost thank him for the interruption. “Today we’re going to have another one of our little experiments,” he says.

Isn’t that just perfect, I bitch to myself. It’s been almost three months since I found out I was a fae, but despite all my training sessions with Moswen, I still don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to Magic.

“You’ll be working in pairs,” the professor continues with absolutely no regard for my feelings. “Start by looking in the drawers under your desks.”

I throw the girl sitting next to me a glance and we smile at each other. She opens the drawer and pulls out a plain wooden box.

“Come on, open it,” the professor’s voice booms. “You only have one hour to finish the assignment and you first have to figure out what it is,” he finishes with a wink.

As usual, he looks amused as he starts walking between the rows of desks, watching what we’re doing.

I turn to my partner, who pauses for a second and then lifts the box lid. Out floats a seemingly metal ball full of little holes. It slowly levitates to our eye level and stops.

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