Chapter 46

My breath snagged in my chest, but only for a moment.

The next moment, it positively collapsed as two more people stepped out alongside Fergus and Jenia: that Object Summoner who'd sent sticks to poke at Gileon's back so long ago, and… and…

"Quinn?" Lander said. "What the hell are you doing here? What is this?"

Except he was still in his panther form, so Quinn couldn't decipher or understand that snarl lashing out through his canines. She surveyed him uncertainly, confusion passing over what little I could see of her face.

Fergus tilted his head back and gave a lazy laugh to the canopy above us.

"This, Shifter, is simply payback. You weren't there, so you can go if you'd like. But I'm glad the fat one joined."

He gestured at Emelle, and rage curdled in my blood. It didn't melt the coldness there, but bolstered it. Fed it. Like the only rage I'd ever know from now on wouldn't be hot, but chillingly, achingly cold.

"Yeah," Fergus continued, oblivious of the way I'd balled my hands into fists. "I'll enjoy her screams almost as much as that one's." He jerked his chin at me.

"Screams?" At that word, Quinn had backed away—just a single step, but enough to make her stumble over the roots and ivy strangling her feet. "You didn't say anything about screams, Fergus. You just said…"

"Yeah, what did they say?" Lander growled,

Again, Quinn couldn't understand him, but now her eyes seemed to swell with understanding. She took in his paws, his powerful legs, his snout and whiskers and bristled black coat… and the young woman straddling his torso.

"Lander," she breathed.

This seemed to trigger something in Emelle—Lander's name on Quinn's lips.

"Is this still about the fire ants? By the orchid and the owl!" Emelle lifted her head to glare, not at Quinn, but at Jenia and Fergus and the Object Summoner. As if Quinn stood too far beneath her. "Payback? What a joke. We were simply defending our friend. You hurt us, we hurt you back, all's fair and even. Let. It. Go."

I'd never heard such authority in Emelle's voice before, and a string of pride sprung from my chest even as that coldblooded rage tightened every other muscle in my body, preparing me for a fight that should have been here but wasn't.

Jagaros. Jagaros… wasn't even here. The butterflies had lied for Jenia.

And that realization—that insects wouldn't talk to me except to lure me away, to trick me—made every one of my tightened muscles quiver. I wanted to run and swat at the stupid swarm still fluttering around Jenia's figure and punch the greasy, smug smile off of Fergus's face all at the same time.

"I came to the Institute," Fergus said now, "expecting to… have a good time. My dad is on the Good Council, you see, has been since he graduated, so everyone expected me to follow in his footsteps. You know." Another greasy smile; God of the Cosmos, why wasn't Jenia cringing with revulsion at it? "Get pussy. Make friends. Pass my tests. Play some pentaball. That sort of thing."

Pentaball. Coen would be in the throes of the game right now, focusing so hard on beating Kimber that he'd have no idea I was here, that I'd fallen prey to the stupidest trap imaginable—a trap I still couldn't quite decipher.

What did they want from us? To bow before them and let them hurt us without any kind of defense or retaliation? Seriously?

Fergus narrowed his gaze onto me.

"Because of what you did, Drey, I am not having a good time. I get pussy, alright—" A dark laugh and a nod at Jenia, who still wasn't cringing. "—but I'm not making friends or passing tests or playing pentaball, because everyone else finds me laughable."

His smile had stayed lodged on his face, but now the corners of his mouth wobbled slightly, and his tone oozed fury and hatred cold enough to rival mine.

"You tarnished me," he said simply. "You and your stupid Gileon Dunn friend tarnished me. So I will destroy you… and your pudgy little friend and kitty cat boy toy if they try to intervene. And then I will go get him."

"You will not touch either one of them," Lander hissed, his shackles raising. "You will let us turn around and walk away from here without lifting a single finger, or I will rip all of you into bloody pieces."

Lander didn't look at Quinn as he said this, but I could feel it—that he'd be willing, in his panther form, to hurt her if she tried to hurt Emelle. And that was not quite the boy I'd grown up with, always reasonable, always gentle. It was something more aggressive, more territorial, but…

I needed that right now. Emelle needed that right now. Especially since Fergus was stalking toward us, ever so slowly, on cat-quiet feet.

Even the foliage seemed to pause their thrums and hums as he passed over them.

"I don't think you will rip us all into bloody pieces," Fergus told Lander. "Because if you make a single move against me, I'll make the yeast in your body grow so fast, your little kitty form will explode before you can shift back. That, after all, would just be self-defense. The Good Council wouldn't fault me for that."

I expected Jenia to react at that. Or for the Summoning boy to react. For either one of them to demonstrate a hint of shock or revulsion at what Fergus was saying.

Neither of them did. The swirl of butterflies still obscured most of Jenia's face, and the Object Summoner hadn't even shifted from one foot to the other.

Only Quinn had gone pale, her red hair flaring against her shocked white face. She tugged on a strand of it like she always did when she was stressed.

Oh, Quinn. Why would you agree to this?

It hit me, then, that this—whatever this was—was the very thing Dazmine had refused to be a part of. She… she'd broken her friendship with Jenia to resist hurting me. Yet Quinn had joined in her stead. Quinn had followed them here, to do this.

Payback.

I just didn't know what kind of payback Fergus had in mind. And that was a problem. The more I knew about what was seething in his head, what was seething in Jenia's head, too, the sooner we could escape this mess.

"The Good Council wouldn't fault you for self-defense," I called out, stopping Fergus in his leisurely stroll toward us, "but I bet they ripped into you for killing Mr. Fenway, didn't they? Or did you manage to avoid getting caught?"

Hint, hint: I know what you did, and I'm not afraid to rat you out.

Well, maybe I was afraid. But I wasn't going to let Fergus know that.

"Oh, I didn't avoid getting caught," Fergus replied easily. "Kitterfol Lexington—nice guy, by the way—works closely with my dad, so he just let me off with a warning to not outright murder anyone with magic again."

Again, I expected Jenia to move or the Summoner to fidget at this leak of information, but nothing happened on their end.

Emelle, however, drew in a gasp, and Lander bared his canines. Quinn took another single step backward with a hand still clutching her hair.

I threw as much sarcasm as I could into my voice.

"Hmmm. I wonder why dear Kitterfol Lexington didn't want you to murder anyone. Seems unfair."

Fergus's smile, rather than dipping at the jest, only grew.

"You misunderstand me, Drey. Kitterfol Lexington told me not to murder anyone with magic again, because magic, he said, leaves traces. It tethers you to the thing you've bestowed your power upon and creates a bond that never quite dissipates." At this, Fergus's hand rustled within his own pocket. "So Lexington told me to use non-magic methods next time. That way no one will know it was me."

And when he brought his hand back out, I saw the glitter of a sharpened blade catch what little light seeped through the canopy here. A dagger.

My stomach swooped. Emelle stifled a yelp into Lander's fur by ducking her head, and Lander himself shifted toward me, placing a giant paw strategically in front of my body.

Quinn whipped her head from Fergus to Jenia and back to Fergus's blade.

"What are you talking about?" she rasped. "Put that thing down, Fergus! You said you were just going to warn them away from messing with you again!"

And from messing with me, the anguish in her eyes seemed to say.

Apparently, I had underestimated Quinn Balkersaff, and so had Lander. When she'd tried to get him to apologize and he'd rejected her at the Element Wielder party all those months ago, she must have held on to her bitterness.

Fergus didn't notice how Quinn had almost sunken into the shadows again. He didn't look at her as he waved a hand and said, "Kimber already handled most of that for us." He tilted his head at the confusion that must have passed over my face. "She's one of the most powerful Wild Whisperers on this damned island, Jenia's sister is. After your little trick with the fire ants, Drey, she commanded every insect within a ten-mile radius to avoid communication with you at all costs. Jenia's butterflies were an exception, of course."

Understanding slammed into me, nearly sending me to my knees.

Kimber was the reason I'd been failing my tests with Ms. Pincette. Those particular struggles didn't have anything to do with being part-faerie after all. Kimber had used her magic to sabotage a part of mine, and in doing so, she could have put my life in danger. She knew Ms. Pincette had to report my inadequacies to the Good Council—although thank God she couldn't possibly know the extent of my failure or my bursts of power or all the other things Ms. Pincette hid for me.

But what was worse, Kimber must have given Jenia's butterflies permission to speak to me right before the pentaball game. Which meant she was purposely distracting Coen in a stupid five-ball game, knowing full-well that I was far away with Fergus and Jenia—facing "payback."

I scrabbled at my chest, trying to will my heartbeat to steady. To stay calm so that I wouldn't fall blind with rage and adrenaline and horror.

Fergus had turned ever so slightly to Quinn, finally noticing how far she had retreated.

"Not so fast, Balkersaff. We need your fire. To burn the bodies when I'm done with them."

"God of the Cosmos!" Emelle cried from Lander's back. "Are you insane?"

"Maybe," Fergus replied casually. "And as for the God of the Cosmos? I don't think He can hear you in this part of the jungle."

Lander crouched lower than ever, prepared to pounce at any moment. My mind was flipping and flopping furiously, scrambling for a way out of this, while Quinn swung a frantic gaze to Jenia.

"Tell him to stop talking like he's being serious! I didn't sign up for this shit!"

For the first time since the butterflies had converged on her, Jenia's head rotated toward Quinn. Enough of the insects had fluttered to a perch on her shoulders or arms or head that I could see the utterly fathomless grayness in her eyes.

"You told me you hated her," Jenia said, nodding ever so slightly at me. "And him." She nodded at Lander's panther form. "And the little—excuse me—big slut he chose to treat better than he treated you. So what's your problem?"

"What's my problem?" Quinn yelped. "My problem is that… that disliking them doesn't mean I'm going to help you guys murder them."

She pushed out a laugh that might have sounded genuine to anyone else but the childhood friends who had grown up with her: it was too high-pitched, too airy compared to her real one.

"If I wanted to kill everyone I felt moody toward, half the island would be dead. Including you at times, Jenia. Come on." She reached out and grabbed Jenia's arm. "We've had our fun. We've scared them shitless. Let's go."

Jenia didn't yank away her arm, but she didn't follow Quinn, either.

"You'll never get another chance like this, Balkersaff," Fergus sang over his shoulder, beginning to stalk closer once more with that dagger clutched tight in one fist.

In a flash, I thought of my mother's knife, perpetually tucked away in the confines of my bag. Fabian had told me I'd never need to use it, but this… this would have been a good instance to have it clutched in my hand as firmly as Fergus held his dagger. Even if I'd never used a knife like that before.

"I've been trying to do this for ages now," Fergus said, "but Rayna's always guarded—by that Steeler asshole, or by one of his friends. Even after I'd heard they'd broken things off, one of your Element Wielder upperclassmen scorched my ass for getting a little too close to her."

Terrin. Terrin had saved me without my knowledge. Gratitude swelled within me, just as my brain landed on the flimsiest of plans.

But a flimsy plan, after all, was better than nothing.

Just as I made to move, Fergus cut a single significant glance back at the Object Summoner, who nodded back, and—

Rocks flew up from the jungle floor, ranging in size from marbles to pentaballs.

I didn't even have time to shield myself or cry out before one slammed into my head from behind, pitching me forward onto my knees.

Through ringing ears, I heard Emelle's scream as a rock knocked her off Lander's back. I heard Lander's yowl and Fergus's chuckle.

"Just wanted to give you a little taste of what's to come!" he called.

More rocks flung themselves at us from every direction, and—no, Lander, stop. My vision spun around the image of the panther launching himself through the rocks, toward Fergus, who would surely be waiting for him with the dagger or with an explosion of mold.

The Good Council wouldn't fault him for self-defense. Whether that was true or not, Fergus seemed to believe it, which meant he wouldn't hesitate to kill Lander as soon as Lander reached him.

Another rock smashed into my stomach. An upsurge of hot bile shot up my throat, but I didn't let that stop me.

Scrambling up, trying to blink away the spots of darkness in my vision, I grabbed one of those fallen rocks and took aim. Moss painted its surface, so much like the last rock Quinn had placed on my windowsill in Alderwick that my vision warped with tears.

I wasn't physically strong enough, I knew, to throw it so hard and fast that it would hit Fergus before Lander got to him.

But through my haze of pain and the stray butterflies around Jenia, I caught Quinn's frantic eye.

And a burst of wind brought my hand forward and carried the rock straight into Fergus's face.

Blood sprouted from his nose. Fergus screamed. The Summoner stopped, and Lander lurched to a halt—though not of his own accord. Quinn's wind pushed him back toward Emelle, who was sobbing on the jungle floor.

Fergus pivoted toward me, panting at the sight of me holding another rock.

"You only ever wanted me," I spat. "So come get me, Fungus."