Neenah Fynn: and the Dawn of Summer

  Contents

  Title Page

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  NEENAH FYNN

  and the

  DAWN of SUMMER

  CHAPTER ONE

  Sitting at my vanity, I held my face in my hands and tried to even out my breathing. My nerves were high. My anxiety was high. I was on edge.

  Today was the day I had been waiting for since I was just eight summers old, when my father had told me about Endeavour Academy.

  Now I was thirteen summers old, in my prime, no longer what the faerie society called a fayelette. I was a faye—old enough now to learn how to harness and develop my powers so I could get my wings.

  I didn’t feel any different from when I’d been twelve summers old. Then again, I didn’t want to feel any different.

  Sighing, I sat up straight, staring into the mirror at my reflection. I picked up my hairbrush and ran the bristles over my hair to give my hands something to do. When I finished, I set the brush down and then glanced back into the large, oval mirror.

  I’d become a faye three moons ago, but I might have assumed I was still a fayelette if I hadn’t been aware of my birth moon. As I looked at my reflection, I tried to find any physical hint that I had changed at all, but saw none.

  My skin was still the same flawless, porcelain shade that reminded me of the glass doll my father had brought me two springs ago as a birthday gift. My hair, a porcelain-blond color, fell just past my shoulders, the same length it had been since last moon. My nose was still perfectly small, my lips the same gentle-pink pout, and my gray-blue eyes as bright and big as the day before.

  I felt the same. I looked the same. I was the same, but I was a faye.

  Movement near my bedroom door grabbed my attention and I shifted my focus to my father’s reflection, now standing behind me.

  “Happy birthday, honeybee,” he said as he pressed a kiss to my forehead. After staring at my reflection in the mirror for several long seconds, he added, “You look just like your mother.”

  My eyes flickered to his. I shook my head and replied, “I don’t think so, Dad. I think I look like you.”

  Of course I thought I looked like my father—I’d never had a picture of my mother to compare myself to. The only thing I knew about her appearance was that we had the same eye color and the same hair color. But I could point out several aspects of my features in my father and we also had the same hair, though our eyes were slightly different in color.

  My father brought me to my feet, holding me at arm’s length as he gazed at me gently. The corners of his eyes glistened for the briefest second before he pulled me into his arms in a warm embrace. I brought my arms around him, holding on tightly, as if he might disappear at any moment.

  “I remember it just like yesterday, when you were born. You were the greatest thing that had ever happened to me, you know.” He released me and took a step back.

  “I have this for you. Your mother…” He cleared his throat uncomfortably and continued. “She would have wanted me to give this to you today.” From the pocket of his blazer, he pulled out a necklace.

  Turning me towards my vanity, he fastened it around my neck. It was a locket, with the Tree of Life engraved into what looked like antique silver. A single peridot stone rested on the tree’s highest branch.

  “Was this hers? My mother’s, I mean?” My slender fingers grazed over the intricate silver design covering my sternum. “Did this belong to my mother?”

  My father placed his hands on my shoulders and smiled as he nodded his head. “That locket is a family heirloom, passed down to your mother from her mother the day she left for Endeavour. Now it rightfully belongs to you.”

  I brought my free hand to rest on his as I stared at the necklace.

  This was the first thing my father had given me that had belonged to my mother. And I was wearing it.

  Knowing my mother had once worn this necklace as I was now… how was I supposed to feel? Should I have been overwhelmed by the sentimental moment? Should I have clutched at it like a lifeline, tears streaming down my face?

  Truth be told, I didn’t feel anything special about the necklace. But I respected it enough to take care of it. For my father.

  My father walked over to my bed and smoothed out a wrinkle in the cover before straightening my pillows.

  Turning to me, he said, “Have you packed everything?”

  I took in a deep breath, held it for a moment, then released it slowly before getting to my feet. “Yes. Everything is packed.”

  Once my luggage was in the back trunk of our SUV, my father and I began the drive to the marina, where I would be taking the ferry to Endeavour Academy.

  I stared in awe out the passenger-side window as the scenery flashed by. My whole life, we’d had everything we needed at our home—gardens for food, a private lake and a river for fishing—so we rarely left unless there was a legitimate reason for us to do so. Any time my friends and I hung out together, they would come over.

  “Are you nervous?” my father asked as the smell of the marina wafted in through the cracked windows of our SUV.

  Without turning to look at my father, I nodded my head. “It would be silly if I wasn’t. Everything in my life is changing, fast.” I gripped the edge of my seat, holding in a deep breath.

  “Neenah?” my father said, sounding deeply concerned.

  “Pull over!” I gasped, breathing roughly now. “Just pull over.”

  My father took a left and then a right before pulling into a parking lot. He took off his seatbelt and turned to face me.

  The second he placed his hand on my shoulder, I broke into tears. “I can’t do it. Dad, I can’t go.” I could feel my face flush.

  “Oh, baby girl,” my father groaned, and wrapped his arms around me. “Don’t cry. Everything is going to be alright.”

  “No!” I cried. “Dad, I’ve never been away from you and I will be gone for a very long time. What if something happens?”

  “Nothing is going to happen. But you have to go, honeybee. You are a faerie and going to Endeavour Academy is a rite of passage.” My father used his thumbs to wipe away my remaining tears, then touched the corners of my mouth. “Put a smile on that pretty face of yours. I hate to see you sad.”

  I gave him a tiny smile that quickly turned into a pout. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t pretend to be happy when I wasn’t. How was I supposed to get through an entire year without seeing him?

  He sighed. “If it makes you feel any better, I will be at Endeavour too.”

  My eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  “I have been offered the job of Deputy Headmaster, and I accepted it.” He looked at his watch and turned off the vehicle. “Speaking of such things… if we don’t get a move on, the both of us will be late.”

  We got out of the vehicle and grabbed the luggage from the back, before making our trek towards the loading dock for the ferry.

  A mass of at least seven hundred students had lined up, waiting to board, all of us similar in appearance. Several human heads did double-takes and others fully stopped to gawk at the strange sight.

  On average, faeries stopped growing at the age of thirteen, but we still aged over time. Women normally stood just under six feet tall, and men just around six and a half. We all basically looked like adults.

  We fit in with humans—we lived, dressed and walked just like them. Most faeries even socialized with humans, and a fair few fell in love with and had children with them.

  Those children were called faeryn. They carried traits of both human and faerie, and could go to the Academy to hone th
eir powers. But upon graduation, they had to choose to take their wings or let their faerie traits go dormant.

  As I scanned the crowed, I wondered which students were new like me.

  “Honeybee, I will see you later tonight. Alright?” my father said. I looked at him desperately, not wanting to be alone with all these people. “I’ll check on you after you get to your dorm. I promise,” he said, then quickly walked off in the direction of the ferry.

  Soon after his departure, the line began to move.

  “Welcome.” A male in a uniform greeted me with a friendly smile.

  I smiled back as I passed, doing my best not to hit him with my luggage. It was tough to juggle my bags by myself, so I was relieved to be one of the last to board. Just as I did, another man in uniform took my bags and set them in a pile with the others. I must have given him a look, because he quickly reassured me that my bags would be waiting for me once we arrived.

  When I entered the main cabin, I looked around. The interior was mostly dark wood, with walls made of glass allowing us to see outside. From where I stood, I could see the wrap-around deck outside, and even managed to make out a set of stairs leading to an upper deck.

  The center of the room boasted several couches and chairs, most of them occupied already by students who had boarded before me.

  Near the entrance where I stood, to my left, was an area where I could purchase food items. Honey tea, paleo dishes, honeysuckle juice, roasted sunflower and pumpkin seeds—I could smell the assortments perfectly.

  The amazing aroma reminded me I hadn’t eaten anything for breakfast. I needed sustenance to relieve my stomach, so I ordered honeysuckle juice and a flower salad. Not my favorite mix, but it was the cheapest option and my choices were limited.

  I sat down on the small ledge at the window to eat my salad and drink my juice. When I finished, I tossed my dish and returned for a juice refill to bring out on the deck.

  Tearing my gaze away from the food bar, I took a step forward and collided into the back of a girl with choppy hair that reminded me of flames. She turned around quickly and shot me a bitter glare.

  My mouth popped open as I looked at her, shocked. Every one of her features screamed volatile. She had that unapproachable look anyone could see from a mile away. I wanted to turn and run, but felt frozen in place by her Medusa-like glare.

  “Excuse you!” she snapped, her voice cutting the air like a razor blade.

  Before I could speak in my defense, two girls flanked her, both appearing identical with spiked black hair.

  The one on the right stepped forward. “Is this girl bothering you, B?” Her voice was equally sharp.

  Then the girl on B’s left mimicked her, also moving forward. She raised her hand and snapped her fingers, producing a single flame above her fingertips. “You are obviously a first year, since you don’t know better,” she said.

  I managed to find enough movement in my limbs to take a step backwards, my legs trembling. “You must be fire faeries.” I kept my eyes on the floor as I spoke.

  “We are fire faeries, sweetheart,” B sneered. “So you better watch yourself. This is your only warning. Next time, you’ll be the center stick for the school’s Welcome Back bonfire.”

  I didn’t bother responding and turned away, heading to the door that led outside.

  What was her problem? All I’d done was accidentally bump into her. Something in me believed she was always hotheaded. Most fire faeries were, in a general sense. It was part of the package.

  Every faerie could manipulate all the elements, but each had only one true calling, and that calling normally came with a personality trait. Fire faeries were hotheads. Lightning faeries were ecstatic. Dark faeries were gloomy, and light faeries were happy.

  But I had a feeling B was like that simply by choice.

  I glanced once more over my shoulder to where the trio had been, then continued across the room towards the outside deck.

  “Hey, new girl!” a male voice called out from behind me.

  I didn’t know how many other new girls there were, so I stopped and turned around, and my eyes lit up when I came face to face with a boy. He was handsome without a doubt, his features smooth but strong. His gleaming brown eyes and unruly dark hair contrasted against his gently tinted skin.

  “How did you know I was new?” I asked.

  Since all of us were at our full growth by thirteen, how could he distinguish the difference?

  The corners of his mouth quirked up as he looked down at me. “How did I know you were new?” he repeated. “That little trick they did with the flame, we learn in our first year. So if you were afraid of that, you must be new.” His voice was thick with amusement.

  I shifted nervously.

  He stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Dean.” I shook it, respectfully. “And what is your name?” He raised a single eyebrow and gave me a crooked smile.

  “I’m Neenah.” He let his eyebrows drop, as if he was unimpressed.

  “Well, well... Miss Neenah, welcome to your first year at Endeavour Academy. The first year is always the most exciting, wonderful, complicated, boring, and not to forget, the most intriguing of them all. So make the best of it.” He winked and then moved past me to open the door to the deck. “After you.”

  My face felt hot as I stepped past him and walked outside. The air around me was warm, even with the breeze from the speed of the ferry. I walked over to the railing and looked over the edge into the water below. A grin spread across my face and I felt like a small child when I saw a fish jump up and then disappear back into the water.

  “Watcha staring at, Neenah?” Dean leaned with his back against the railing, his arms crossed smugly.

  “Fish... water... stupid stuff,” I replied.

  He gave me a tight-lipped smile and said, “Instead of looking down, you should look out. Trust me, better sights to see.”

  My forehead creased as I looked at him. Look out—what does that even mean? Dean must’ve figured I didn’t understand, because he moved to stand directly behind me and took my head between his large hands, tilting it up slightly. At least a couple hundred yards away, I saw what looked like the form of an island surrounded by a very thick fog.

  “Is that the Island?” I asked.

  Dean nodded his head. “The one and only. For the next four years, that island will be your home. Great, isn’t it?”

  I turned to look away as I felt my heart clench at the realization. After a few moments, I looked up at Dean and saw that the smile on his face had disappeared, replaced by a somber expression.

  “You miss your parents, don’t you?” he asked.

  I wrapped my arms at my waist. “My father, yes. But he is here, somewhere on the boat. He works for the school now.”

  “So, you and your mother don’t get along?”

  I let my hands drop to my sides. “My, er... my mother died when I was born.”

  “I’m sorry.” He grabbed at his neck, a nervous gesture. “My dad walked out on my mother and I when I was five, so I understand the one-parent thing.”

  I felt a bit of guilt over his situation. Of course, his father was still alive, but he’d only had five years before it had all fallen apart. He had a bond with his father I didn’t with my mother.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, why did they split up?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know all the details.” He cleared his throat. “My mother told me my father got this new job and fell in love with another woman a month or so after my mother got pregnant with me. Everything hit the fan after that.” He made a face.

  “Do you ever talk to him?”

  “I used to, all the time. Then he just left.” He let out a sigh and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Doesn’t matter anyways.”

  Part of me felt like he was lying about that, with the way his body seemed to sag as he talked about his father.

  “Enough of the sob stories.” I smiled, hoping to bring him out of t
he funk I’d caused by bringing up the subject. “What year are you, first or second?”

  “It’s my first year, but I’ve basically lived at the campus with my mother. She’s the headmistress.”

  “So you know a lot?”

  He gave me a cocky grin. “Sweetheart, I know just about everything there is to know. Even the things I shouldn’t.” He seemed to be back to his pre-funk spunk.

  “Must be nice.”

  His brow furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the advantage of already knowing everything. I bet you have loads of friends.”

  He cleared his throat, giving me a bewildered expression. “Yeah, I have loads of friends. I’m actually surrounded by them as we speak. You just can’t see them, because they don’t exist,” he ended with a throaty chuckle.

  “So what did you do while you were stuck here with your mom?”

  “Whatever she wanted me to do. She liked me to sit in on classes, but I almost never did. I preferred to wander and find ways to get into trouble. You know, normal kid stuff.”

  I pursed my lips disapprovingly.

  “Oh, come on! You can’t tell me you’re one of those girls.”

  I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “What girls, exactly? The ones who brown-nose their way through life or the ones that actually enjoy keeping their noses clean?”

  “Wow, you sure do have a mouth on you.” Dean laughed.

  I grinned at him mischievously and said, “You’d be surprised. Maybe I’m just disappointed to hear that when you get into trouble, you get caught.”

  Dean stood up tall. “I never said anything about getting caught.”

  I inclined my head slightly, a single eyebrow raised to him in a silent who-are-you-trying-to-fool expression. Then he caved.

  “Okay, maybe I’ve been caught once or twice. But… if it’s getting caught by my own mother, it doesn’t technically count.”

  “Now that’s a load of bull crap.” I laughed.

  “Whoa, little lady, shut your filthy mouth.” He gave me a serious look that lasted long enough for us to find humor in the sarcasm and break into a fit of laughter.