Descendants Academy: Young Adult Urban Fantasy, Belle Malory [motivational novels for students .txt] 📗

Hazel’s jaw dropped. “What if the effects are delayed?”

“Hey,” I said, reaching for one of the drinks, like I’d been there all along. “Let’s all just chill. Hazel, I’m sure it’s fine. Everyone’s drinking from the same pitcher.”

I looked back at the tree where I left Xander, my hand trembling as I held the goblet. What happened back there?

It was like he’d put me under some kind of weird spell, trying to manipulate me into doing what he wanted. Bastard. Clearly, I needed to stay away from him—far away.

“You changed your mind then?” Jett said. “About staying?”

I looked at the goblet, questioning my decision.

Oh, why not. Regrets were for the human world. I downed the drink before I had a chance to back out, coughing as it burned the back of my throat. It was a lot more potent than the stuff Grandpa had given me.

Jett smirked. “You know, Mythonian alcohol is stronger than human alcohol.”

“Why am I not surprised?” I set the goblet down, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

She grinned, raising her own drink to her lips. “Good for you, Thorny. Let’s have some fun.”

Hazel ran a hand through her curls, letting out a long, dramatic breath. “Hanging out with the two of you is so stressful.”

I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, let’s go find that faun of yours and make sure he notices you.”

She blinked, considering the idea. “You think he will? What if he tells my parents about this party?”

Always, the worrywart.

“Then he’d have to admit he was here too.”

“True,” she agreed. “Okay. Let’s stay, but only for a little while.”

24

“God, I feel like death.” Hazel bent forward, holding her head in her lap.

I felt just as crappy. To make matters worse, the water was rough, rocking our little rowboat back and forth, making me grip the sides as my stomach lurched. Van sat in the back, silently rowing, his large frame making him look like a sumo wrestler in the tiny boat. He didn’t need any help from us. Good thing too, because if I had to row, I’d probably vomit everywhere.

“This is your fault,” I said to Hazel, half teasing. “Stay for only a little while, remember?”

A little while turned into almost three in the morning. Once we started dancing, Hazel’s crush, Birch, came over to join us. He and Hazel danced all night long, and we all ended up having a lot more fun than expected.

Hazel turned her head, the barest hints of a smile on her pale face. “It was pretty fun, wasn’t it?”

A wave jerked the boat forward, and I tightened my grip. “Not sure it was worth it at the moment.”

For as much as she drank last night, Jett was annoyingly chipper. “Get it together, both of you.” She smiled into the blinding sunlight. “Soon we’ll be on Folly Promenade. Look, we’re almost there.”

Sandwiched between Autumn and Spring, Twilight Island was tiny, and it was also home to the renegades of Mythos. The closer we got, the noisier it got. And strangely, I no longer wanted to rip my eyeballs from their sockets. I glanced up at the sky, noticing the sun was getting dimmer as if it were going down instead of up.

“Amazing, right?” Jett inhaled a deep breath. “Noisy. Nocturnal. Alive—God, I love this place.”

“You’ve been before?” I said.

She nodded. “You’ve enlisted the right friend, Thorny. I come whenever I get the chance. Who knows, I may even move here after I finish mastery.”

Hazel made a face of obvious disapproval, but she didn’t say anything.

A while later, the boat reached the shore, and Vanisher got out to push us out of the water. The sun was almost completely gone now, just a soft glow on the horizon, a smattering of stars twinkling in the orange-streaked sky.

“Meet me back here at sunset,” Van instructed. He pointed up ahead. “Folly is just past those palm trees.”

“Thanks, Van,” Jett said.

Silky sand sunk over my feet as I jumped out of the boat. Just being on land again put my stomach at ease—God, it felt good to be out of those rough waters. Grabbing my bag and the skirt of my toga, I waved bye to Van and followed Jett up the beach, Hazel lagging behind.

Music played up ahead, a cross between old-timey folk and jazz. Once we made it through the palm trees, I could see the town, a strip of brick buildings with laced balconies.

“A couple of things,” Jett said over her shoulder. “Don’t look at the harpies. They’ll try to sell you whatever they can. Once they have your attention, they sink in their claws, and they’re damn near impossible to shake.”

“Noted,” I said, thinking of the pushy one who tried to take my bag when I arrived in Mythos.

“Next, there’s a bazillion fortune-tellers, medicine men, and dark mages living here. They’ll try and entice you with little bits of psychic tell, but they really just want your coin. Also, don’t eat or drink unless you pay for it yourself. Mages will trap you into payment, the kind you’ll regret. Think first-born babies and lifetimes of servitude—that kind of crazy shit.”

From behind us, Hazel snorted. “Now she tells us.”

Jett continued on with her warnings, giving Hazel the side-eye. “Finally, be careful where you go. Certain buildings are spelled. People have been known to wander into nightclubs, and they don’t reappear for years.”

Good grief.

The island sounded like one big magical trap.

“I’m probably making it sound worse than it is,” Jett said, looking unphased. “Just stay close, and you’ll both be fine.”

Before we knew it, we were in the heart of the island’s city, entering Folly Promenade, a cobbled street full of bustling activity. Everywhere I looked, there were entertainers performing magic, psychics giving fortunes, and good, old-fashioned revelry. Pegasus descendants were led through the crowds, dressed in gems and ribbons. Banners waved above us, disappearing into colorful clouds of smoke. Tourist mages