Page 18 of The Fae's Gamble
Edinburgh
The independence referendum failed. It was one of our last attempts to subtly influence the human world to see if it would break the curse. Gweyir mentioned Scotland must stand alone—we flooded the campaign with funds when we learned that the human government put the referendum on the ballot. Now we’ll likely never know if that’s what it would take.
Our situation has grown more desperate still. We had found some stasis, I would not say happiness or peace, over the past fifty years here at the university. This had flooded us with a rare sense of hope and breakthrough, and I grapple with this defeat.
Whatever small pieces of my magic I gained back over the years are gone. Old injuries flare anew.
I remain in charge of the Department of Highland Magic although it is a far cry from the kingdom we once were.
* * *
“Oh my god.” Fern dropped the journal and didn’t move as it slipped off her lap. It hit the floor with a heavy thud and a flare of magic rushed over her skin. Her mind reeled as she stared at the wall, her body swaying with fatigue, but her thoughts were racing.
“Calum is the fucking high prince.”
Chapter Eight
The revelation of Calum’s identity was no match for Fern’s exhaustion, and she stumbled to the bedroom and fell asleep on top of the duvet. As she slept, dreams of mysterious fae princes and weeping moors haunted her, and a wild drum beat kept time with her heart.
The bedroom was already full of sunlight when she blinked her eyes open. For a moment, she forgot where she was and stretched out leisurely on the bed. Her muscles still ached from the long flight, but she was already feeling better than she had the night before.
The night before.
“Oh my god!” Fern shouted to an empty room. She sat straight up in bed, her hands searching for her phone. Everything came flooding back to her, from her conversation with Emmett and Mara to her late-night realization regarding Dr. Welsh.
Fern had left the book on the counter, and she ran to the kitchen to see if it was still there. Sure enough, it was right where she left it, its pages once again emitting a soft, magical hum.
“Holy shit,” Fern breathed, leaning against the table. She ran her hands through her hair and took a minute to compose herself. The first thing that she had to do was bring the book back to Calum and ask him all the questions that were running through her head. Fern rolled her shoulders and went to her suitcase, which was still sitting half-open near the front entryway.
She dug around until she found something suitable to wear and disappeared into the bathroom for a quick shower. She cursed her vanity, but she was not showing up to Calum’s office with bed head.
The very thought of the professor—no, the prince!—had Fern’s stomach filling with butterflies. She was already attracted to him, but now? She knew she was a goner.
You better keep a lid on this damn crush, she scolded herself as she ran the conditioner through the ends of her hair. He’s still supervising your doctoral program, so he is explicitly off-limits. Beyond off-limits. He exists in “do not go there” territory, next to “in your fucking dreams”.
A mere twenty minutes later, Fern was dressed, and her curls were manageable. She stared at the book, almost afraid to touch it. She took a deep breath and grabbed it by the spine, quickly tossing it in her briefcase before slipping out the front door.
The first day of classes didn’t start for undergraduate students for another week, but the campus was already alive with activity. Fern slowed her pace and forced herself to enjoy the walk to Calum’s office, delighting in the atmosphere of students and faculty.
When she approached the Old College, the courtyard was fuller than the day before. There were even more people wandering about, huddled together in groups on the lawn and exchanging books on the building’s steps. As Fern passed them, she couldn’t help but notice that a few individuals had almost the same magical resonance as Calum’s journal.
Fern passed a group of women who looked as ethereal as Mara. Their heads were bowed together as they talked in hurried voices. Fern realized they were baobhan sith, the fact suddenly as obvious to her as the blue sky.
They’re magic.
Fern peered at the different faculty members as she crossed the quad, picking up on magical signatures from most of them. As she approached the Old College, the questions running around in her head multiplied tenfold.
Fern practically threw the door open, slipping past a group of co-ed’s and hastening towards the anthropology department.
She didn’t remember the exact way to the Department of Highland Magic, but she followed her instincts. The hallways got smaller and more cramped as she threaded her way through, and the sounds of the university got quieter behind her. The closer she got to the department, there was one magical signature that stood out to her beyond the rest.
It didn’t just hum; it sang and called to her. Her mind became completely preoccupied with the magic user, and nothing would be okay until she was in their presence.
The magic led Fern successfully to the old stained-glass door she was looking for. For a second, she worried it was locked, but the door opened before she could touch the handle.
“I’ll worry about that later,” Fern grunted, adding it to her list of queries. She had to slow her pace as she weaved through the leaning stacks of books that covered the floor, slipping past the file cabinets. The department seemed empty. All the other offices were closed, and the only noise was the sound of Fern’s rushed breathing.
She turned down the last hallway, relieved to see that there was light coming from Calum’s office. In her eagerness, Fern nearly tripped over a small stack of folders and sent a pile of papers flying across the floor.