My breath caught. Robin had become my best friend, but had father seen him as a son?
“Will you report me?” Ambrose said, stiffly.
“Why are you making da sad?” Ty demanded, tightening his fists in Ambrose’s pants. “I’ll f-fight you, if you h-hurt him.”
“Enough of that,” Ambrose hissed, swinging his son into his arms and wrapping his wings around him. “These students…” How much had he been struggling not to say rascals? “…Are your kind patrons in the academy. They’re good.” Ambrose looked like he was trying to force himself to feed his own son poison, and my stomach twisted. “Show them some respect.”
Ty blinked away tears. “Aye, da. But I want the elf. He’s good.” I blinked. If only Darby could hear that it was the killer, with whom the child felt safest. “I’m s-sorry, sir.”
“Chill out, short stuff, we’re cool.” Sleipnir shot me a troubled glance, before crouching in front of Ty. When he held out his hand to Ty, it was Ambrose who flinched. Sleipnir snorted. “Fae might be asshole enough to hurt kids, but I won’t.”
Reluctantly, Ambrose loosened his hold on Ty, who crept out from behind his father.
“I’d never report you,” I assured Ambrose. “Would it be for the song about snowmen? Is it some type of incantation?”
Ambrose stared at me. “Are you mocking me?” His translucent skin pinked. When I merely arched my brow, he slapped his hand against his thigh with a crisp smack. “Nay, unless Frozen has enchanted the world, which is admittedly possible. Ty isn’t allowed to be seen. But it was my daft self who risked it, which means that if there’s punishment…”
“Yeah, it’s all on your ass, we get it.” Sleipnir held out his hand again to Ty.
When Ty grasped it, Sleipnir’s hair softened to candy pink. A serpent tattoo coiled down from beneath his coat, shimmering and alive, to dance along the back of his hand, flickering its tongue at Ty’s fingers. Ty giggled.
“Da, look! A snake!” Ty’s bright eyes raised to Ambrose’s.
Ambrose’s lips curled into a smile; it was a good look on him. “Aye, but now it’s time to go to your room.”
Ty’s face scrunched up like he was about to cry, but then he slowly withdrew his hand from Sleipnir’s. Just for a moment, I regretted that this resurrected body couldn’t bear children. Sleipnir would’ve made an admirable father.
Our godly ghost children, however, would’ve been a handful.
Ty turned and ran inside to the stable block. Ambrose watched, until the door banged shut. Then he spun back to us, and his expression hardened. “Fetch your dragons. It’s tradition to ride to the ruins.”
Bask wandered to the barred stalls. “Rayn, it’s petting time.”
When Bask stuck his hand through into the darkness, my heart beat so hard against my ribcage that I thought it’d burst. I doubled over, and my mouth became dry.
Don’t let the dragon fry his hand, gobble it, or make it into a tasty finger food treat.
Sleipnir merely slouched to his feet, however, as my magic burst out ready to yank Bask to safety.
A dragon pushed its smooth golden head against Bask’s hand; its neck was sinuous. I caught a glimpse of its bat-like yellow wings as it shifted closer to the front. Ethereal magic fluttered around it. Then it nuzzled against his hand gently in a dragon kiss.
Ah, this was the Snuggle Dragon who matched Bask, much like Mist did Sleipnir.
Did that mean my crow familiars suited me? Wow, what an awful thought.
Bask stroked Rayn. How lonely were the shifters?
When I caught Sleipnir’s sad gaze, I finally understood. This could be Fox and him in these barred prison cells.
Ambrose marched to Bask, hauling him away from Rayn. “He’s Lysander’s dragon.”
Bask’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Would you take it easy? Don’t I at least get to choose how I ride to my death?”
Ambrose’s hand dropped to the hilt of his whip; his knuckles whitened. “How about you rascals listen to me, and then I don’t have to lose any more students?”
Bask nodded, avoiding his gaze.
Ambrose glanced between us. “The Gateway in the ruin is both a weapon and like a library’s database to other realms and even alternate realities. None of you have seen a fraction of its power.”
I crossed my arms. “As the new girl, I haven’t seen anything. So, we’re meant to step through something that’ll take us on a mission to do what, precisely?”
Fox bounced on his toes. “New boy here as well. Voldemort won’t be waiting for us, hissing our names like the noseless naughty boy that he is, right?” Ambrose simply leveled him with a blank stare. Fox shuffled on his feet. “What?”
“Have you forgotten that I’m your professor or that I can still sentence you to detention?”
Fox licked his dry lips. “I knew that there was something that’d slipped my mind.”
When Ambrose prowled to Fox, raising the hilt of his whip to tip up his chin, I stiffened. “Then you’d best not forget this, whipping boy, it’s your life at stake. If your Wing fail this mission, then you’ll be executed.”
My pulse pounded at the threat to Fox. “And what if we simply run?”
Of course, it was a bluff. I’d found that I was rather good at those.
Even if I could escape, I’d never abandon my familiars, Willoughby, Midnight…or Lysander.
Who would’ve thought that I’d ever protect a fae prince?
Ambrose huffed. “Like the Crows didn’t think of that. You only need to imagine you’re back in the academy and you will be. But the magic of the Gateway automatically pulls you back within the wards after twenty-four hours, if you don’t return yourself. Then your whipping boy will be executed for your escape attempt.”
Fox batted the whip away. “Brilliant.”
Sleipnir’s voice was low and hard. “So, who are we hunting?”
I shivered. This was real. Could I become an assassin even to save Fox? When his wide blue eyes met mine in question, I forced myself to smile. I was lost to him and the other Rebels. I’d find a way.
Ambrose reached inside his jacket, pulling out a sparkling black bag, which was tied at the top with a cord. When he stepped towards me, I shied back.
“Stand still, daft witch. I need to hang it around your neck.” When I ducked my neck, Ambrose leaned in. He was shivering; I’d forgotten that Seelie Fae didn’t cope in the cold. Witching heavens, he must suffer, confined to this stable block. Carefully, he brushed back my hair, ensuring that the cord didn’t catch, as he tied a knot. His cheek was temptingly soft as it brushed mine, before he pulled back. “It’s a fae trick; Professor Crow would be displeased with me for making unapproved magic like this. You can tell her, but on my wings, I’d rather that you didn’t. It’s a Sleeping Charm. You only need to crush it between your fingers, and all beasts will fall asleep.”
For the first time, Ambrose appeared nervous.
“Why are you helping me?” I asked.
Ambrose shrugged. “When my son fell from the window and you caught him, you saved the most precious thing in the world to me. Ty is the only reason that I keep living. Plus, a fae pays his debts.”
To my shock, Sleipnir stalked to Ambrose and swung him around by his collar, tossing him into a snowbank. Then he pinned him down. Ambrose snarled, struggling beneath him.
Hot as their unexpected wrestling was, now wasn’t the time or place for it (which involved nakedness and oil).