Saving Year Three (Grim Reaper Academy 3)

“I saw everything, Mistress!”

“You did? How?”

She looked at me as if I’d grown a second head, and said second head was quite stupid. “Magic.”

“Right.” I plopped on the bed and took out my phone. A bunch of pictures with GC’s face covered in sticky goo, then some more of his wound finally healing. The disgusting potion had worked. I typed a message quickly, then speed-dialed my mom.

“I’m so sorry! Your father is so, so scary.” The pixie’s eyes widened comically. “He could have killed you!”

“I don’t think so, actually.” It was ringing.

“How so?”

“Let’s find out.” My mom answered, and I put the call on speaker, so Corri could hear too. “Hi, Mom! Is Dad there?”

Once she got him on the phone, I told both of them what had just happened in Morningstar’s office. How he’d hurt GC, how he’d attacked me too, and how the blade of his scythe started cracking ever so subtly in contact with my skin. There was something there, and I just couldn’t figure it out. It was on the tip of my tongue… The truth. The truth about how he’d broken his scythe the first time and gotten a new one.

“If you know something, anything… Dad, you have to tell me. Because tonight… I think I almost destroyed Valentine’s scythe. It went right through my cheek, but instead of hurting me, it hurt itself.”

A sigh. Silence. Then another sigh.

“Err… Dad, I don’t speak the language of sighs and grunts. Use your words.”

“Mila, I don’t know what to say.”

It was so obvious that he knew something! This man could drive me insane! I squeezed my eyes shut and counted to ten. Getting mad and yelling at him would’ve only made things worse.

“How about the truth?” I suggested in the least sarcastic voice I could muster. “After all this time, I think you can finally tell me the truth. You knew about Morningstar way before the Academy. You knew he was a Grim Reaper, you knew he was my real father… How? That’s all I’m asking. Tell me how.”

“Not over the phone.”

“Seriously?” I’d told them about the new rules already. I usually talked to my mom twice a week, or so. “Yes, over the phone. Or send me an e-mail! You know I can’t leave the Academy.”

“I’m not asking you to come home. I’ll meet you in Salem next week. Monday okay? I can fly in, rent a car…”

“No, not okay. Monday is field trip day. We’re going to visit the Seelie Court.”

“The… what now?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s a pocket universe… Fairies… Not like Corri. Tall, beautiful fairies who live in a land where it’s always spring or summer.”

“You lost me.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Let’s make it Wednesday. I’ll try to sneak out after curfew.”

“You’ll get in trouble.”

“I’m already at minus fuck-knows-how-many worth points. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll make sure I won’t.”

Since when did Stepan Lazarov care if I got in trouble? Our relationship had changed, but it was hard for me to forget (or forgive, for that matter) everything he’d done to me. Maybe, if he helped me this time, I’d agree to consider some of his sins washed.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

When Professor Maat first told us in Geography that the various pocket universes strewn around our universe were much more accessible than Heaven and Hell, I was equally shocked and excited. Why had no one told me there were portals everywhere? Why hadn’t I read it in any book? Fairies, goblins, dwarves – they all lived in small pockets attached to our world, and if one was in the right place at the right time, it was fairly simple to cross into one of them.

Fays were of two kinds: Seelie and Unseelie. That didn’t mean the first were good and the last were evil, or anything. They looked different – the Seelie were tall, slender, with fair skin and light hair, – they had different traditions and liked different things, but in terms of morality, they were just like all the other supernaturals. Some were decent, others were cruel and petty. The Seelie lived in eternal spring and summer, and loved the arts. The greatest painters the world had seen were, in reality, Seelie. Rembrandt, Monet, Dali… Yep. Seelie. The Unseelie lived in eternal fall and winter, had dark skin and dark hair, and were more interested in the art of war and all that it implied – various methods of combat, weaponry and strategy, but also diplomatic affairs. When the supernaturals in our world needed a diplomat, they hired an Unseelie. When they needed a soldier, they hired an Unsee

lie.