by Ava Corrigan
“I just lost service … I have to go. Are you charged? Can you help?”
“I can’t,” Rosalind answered. “But you don’t need it.”
There was no more time for questions or answers. No time for anything but action. I bolted toward the castle.
Running flat out, I’d almost reached the castle when I heard familiar whispers. At the far tree line, I saw a glowing light, brimming over as though the horizon was a cup, suffusing the whole skyline. What the hell? My mad dash arrested, I moved toward that glow.
A hand landed on my shoulder.
A voice said, “There you are.”
I spun around with my heart in my throat.
“Sky,” I said. “Hey.”
It wasn’t a battle to death with a monster. But it was a very awkward moment nonetheless.
“You seem … okay?” I offered.
“I am. Whatever you gave me wore off a few hours ago.” He proceeded, all business, “Come on, we have to go find everyone else.”
As he walked off, I took another look back at the tree line, but whatever had been there was long gone.
Specialist
Kat and Riven entered the castle in darkness. They carried torches, and as they moved cat-soft through the halls, Riven heard the creak of beams overhead. There was a flickering red light in the distance.
“Hello?” called Kat.
It was like Kat had never seen a horror movie in her life.
“The hell are you doing?” Riven hissed. “What if it’s one of those things?”
A Fire Fairy Riven didn’t know emerged from a corner, and then several fairies came stumbling toward the Specialists, toward rescue. Kat shot Riven a frankly offensive side-eye.
“This way, guys,” she told them.
The Fire Fairy said, “I saw more students in the greenhouse.”
Kat nodded. “I’m gonna bring them back. You grab the greenhouse stragglers.”
“Wait—” Riven began.
He didn’t want to split up—that was a one-way ticket to murder city! And he didn’t want to be alone. But Kat was already moving down the hallway. Riven was dismissed.
Then he thought … students in the greenhouse. Who else could it be?
Terra.
Riven went quietly into the greenhouse, shining his torch around the familiar space, the twining vines and blooming flowers, the carefully separated pots of dirt. No, soil. Terra got very stern about that. Riven liked it here. He felt charmed and comforted.
Until the spotlight of his torch illuminated the “stragglers.”
On one of the tables, lying unconscious, was Beatrix. Standing over her like a mad scientist with a sword was Dane. In front of Dane were various herbs and beakers and other laboratory equipment.
With deep feeling, Riven said, “What the hell?”
Riven realized the expression on Dane’s face was panic.
The words spilled out of Dane’s mouth. “She triggered a trap in Dowling’s office. Some kind of paralyzation thing. She gave me instructions for a potion to fix it, but …”
Riven considered the situation, and then made an executive decision. “Sucks for her. Come on.”
“I’m not leaving her!” said Dane.
Riven could have left Dane with Terra and not interfered. Dane would’ve been fine. He would’ve been happy. He’d be safe right now, and not desperate here in the dark. What had happened to Dane was Riven’s fault. So Riven spoke with all the fury born from Beatrix’s betrayal. He spoke to him as if Dane was Riven at the start of the year, arrogant and about to make a terrible mistake.
“Dane. She’s not worth it.”
“She cares about you, and I know you care about her. Don’t act like you don’t. Please,” Dane was begging, looking at Riven as though he trusted Riven could and would save him. “You have to help.”
Riven glanced at the door. He didn’t want to go out there alone and face monsters that ripped people limb from limb. He didn’t want to be alone at all.
Did Beatrix care about him? Could Dane be right?
He looked back at Dane, with his puppy-dog eyes, and Beatrix lying there helpless. Where else was Riven gonna go? What else could he do?
Terra had said, Nobody would ever ask you for help. Dane was asking. Dane seemed sure Riven would do it, looking at Riven as though Riven mattered to him.
Riven wanted to believe Dane. And he didn’t want to go back outside.
Already knowing this was a bad idea, Riven asked, “What did her instructions say?”
Fire
Sky and I made our way toward the Winx suite. We had to push through the flood of students headed in the other direction, bent on escape. At first our quiet seemed like only the silence of urgency, but quickly, even in this frantic and terrible time, it was clear it was the silence of deep awkwardness.
I broke first. “Will you please say something?”
“What is there to say?” Sky asked distantly. “You kissed me and then you drugged me.”
“Technically, I drugged you first,” I joked.
Sky’s face stayed stern. Tough crowd. Tough, roofied crowd. That was fair.
I tried being serious. “I didn’t know we were gonna kiss when I dosed your drink. Then I got wrapped up in the moment, and—”
“A kiss seemed like a good way to distract me. Thanks for the recap.”
No. That wasn’t what it was. How could Sky think that? He must know how I felt about him.
“I wasn’t trying to distract you!” I halted. “You would’ve stopped me, Sky.”
He stopped walking, too. I would’ve thought nothing could stop my soldier boy when he was on a mission. There was genuine pain and frustration on his face.
“I opened up to you. I told you stuff I’ve never told anyone, Bloom. I trusted you, and—”
“And you still would’ve stopped me,” I finished. “So you can say you trust me, but you were still gonna treat me like some damsel who needed to be protected from herself. Sorry. But that’s not trust.”
Sky said flatly, “You let a murderer out of jail to free a crazy ex-headmistress.”
Well, when he put it like that … I had to show him a different point of view.
“And what if Rosalind isn’t crazy? What if she had a reason to lie? The more I learn, the more I think maybe everyone did what they thought was right.”
When Sky answered me, he was using his soldier voice again, seeing things only in black-and-white.
“Just because somebody thinks what they did was right, doesn’t mean that it is.”
He marched off.
Earth
Stella was still trying to get a signal, wandering back and forth and past the center of the room where the rest of them huddled. Aisha and Musa were helping Terra hold Sam down as his body spasmed. Her brother’s eyes were going black.
“The infection will shift soon. He’ll turn erratic if he doesn’t get Zanbaq. We have to get out.”
Terra leaped for the door, but then saw Musa shudder as Sam writhed.
“Musa, you okay?”
Musa whispered, “Somebody do something.”
Terra intended to.
Suddenly, there was a banging on the door. Stella and Terra exchanged a wary look, and then backed up. There was more banging. If it was a Burned One, Terra thought, they had to fight it. She hoped Stella had her light show ready.
Just then, the wood splintered and the remains of the door swung open, revealing Sky, who’d kicked the door down. Bloom stood next to him.
There was a split second of tense silence when Sky and Stella came face-to-face. Bloom’s gaze stuttered between them, but their quiet and Bloom’s hesitance didn’t last long.
Sky said softly, “Hi.”
Stella said, “Hey.”
Terra said, “We need to get help!”
Terra genuinely could not have cared less about their thing. Her brother was bleeding out, with poison in his veins.
That was when Bloom and Sky loo
ked past Terra and Stella and saw Sam on the floor.
Bloom whispered, “Oh no.”
Sky cursed, then said, “Let’s get him to the courtyard. Everyone is there.”
As they all headed out of the suite, Bloom lingered for a moment.
“What?” said Aisha. “Did you think you weren’t going to have to face her?”
Terra didn’t stay to hear what Bloom replied. She didn’t care about the Aisha, Bloom, and Ms. Dowling teacher love triangle any more than she cared about Sky, Bloom, and Stella’s thing. Terra was focused on her brother.
Hold on, Sam, she thought as they made their way down dark corridors with her brother’s pained breath ragged in her ears. Just hold on until we get to Dad. He’ll fix this. He’ll make everything okay.
The courtyard was now the scene of a castle under siege. Bright wisps of magic conjured by Light Fairies wreathed the night air, giving them illumination enough to see what was happening, but what was happening was terrifying. Dowling was giving orders to Fire Fairies to weld the doors shut. Silva was issuing commands to Specialists, all arming themselves even more heavily and helping fairies into armor. Terra saw Kat oiling a sword, but she didn’t see Riven anywhere. Typical.
Sam moaned. Musa made a little sound, as though his moan was a blow to her.
“Almost there,” Terra murmured to Sam, and was glad she didn’t have to lie to her brother.
The courtyard canteen where they ate lunch every day was now an assembly line for the dispensation of healing herbs. Fairies were pruning Zanbaq, and distilling oil, preparing bandages, and tending to patients. Her father was in their midst, wrapping a bandage around a Specialist’s wound, and then turning and taking a breath before he addressed himself to another task. He looked every inch the professor he was, the soldier he had been. Utterly calm. In control.
Terra said, “Dad?”
Her father looked up to see Terra and Musa, with their arms around a barely conscious Sam. The color drained from his face. His mouth opened, and for a second no words came out. Terra’s desperate confidence in him went shaky.
Her father turned to a fairy. “I need Zanbaq,” her dad said. “Now.”
As Terra and Musa gently laid Sam down on an empty table, her dad did a preliminary inspection. Sam was so pale. There was blood everywhere. Her dad flinched away from the sight of his son’s wounds, and then turned to Terra. His snarl echoed against the stones of the courtyard, his familiar, trusted face as strange to her as her embattled school.
“He’s lost so much blood! Why didn’t you get him here sooner?”
Terra had still hoped they would be saved by the adults, that, despite all the evidence, her father was ultimately capable and invincible. Now the last of her hope drained away.
She met her father’s accusing gaze without flinching.
“We were grounded, Dad. Remember?”
Fire
All the fairies in the courtyard applauded when Ms. Dowling made a speech announcing that Queen Luna was on her way with reinforcements. But I couldn’t stand in the crowd. I had to find an opportunity to talk to her alone.
I seized my chance once the Water Fairy she was instructing departed. Ms. Dowling gave me a look that heralded the next ice age.
“I know you’re mad,” I said.
“An understatement,” Ms. Dowling responded.
Once I explained, she’d understand. Then we could all work together.
“Rosalind isn’t the monster you think she is. She lied for a reason. The villagers at Aster Dell weren’t innocent. They were Blood Witches. And my birth parents weren’t even there.”
My birth parents might be alive, and Ms. Dowling could have her mentor back! Surely Ms. Dowling would be glad.
Ms. Dowling gave me an assessing look. “She certainly has a way of winning people over, doesn’t she?”
Her tone was a smidge condescending. Or more than a smidge.
“Is your ego so fragile that you can’t even consider that you might be wrong about her?” I fired back.
She was silent for a moment, as though I’d struck a nerve. Still, when she answered me, her voice was measured.
“Rosalind gave you just enough information to string you along. She’s manipulating you, Bloom. That’s what she does.”
“Then what the hell have you been doing?” I demanded. “You were the one who kept things from me. Not her.”
“And why isn’t she telling me this herself? Why isn’t she by our side helping fight?” Ms. Dowling’s demand cut through the air like a whip. “Where is she?”
Ms. Dowling still didn’t understand. I had to defend Rosalind. “She’s still weak. Not charged up enough. But she said when she was—”
“So you were in the stone circle?” Ms. Dowling asked sharply.
“She used her magic to hide us,” I explained.
That took Ms. Dowling a minute to absorb, and once she did, I was stunned by the emotion that showed on her usually guarded face. I understood she was mad she’d been tricked, but the white-hot fury in her face and her voice knocked me back.
“The stone circle is a conduit to the magic of the land. That magic powers everything at Alfea. Like our electricity. And the Barrier.”
It took me a second to put together what Ms. Dowling was saying. Tonight the castle had gone dark. The Barrier had gone down, and the Burned Ones had come through.
I almost couldn’t force the words out. “Are you saying Rosalind is the reason the Barrier was weak enough for the Burned Ones to get through?”
She was saying the Burned Ones had come for me, and I’d freed Rosalind and helped them do it. I’d done this. I’d ruined everything, twice over.
Dowling’s silence was the only answer I needed. I barely had a chance to process before the terrible, bone-rattling rasp of a Burned One echoed outside the gates. A second rasp issued from outside the canteen. Two more from either side.
Dowling’s expression turned into one I’d seen Sky wear often: a soldier’s determination.
I had to tell her. “They’re after me, you know.”
“Yes. I didn’t realize that at first. But I do now.” Ms. Dowling turned the force of that soldierly determination onto me. “Which means it’s my job to protect you.”
I didn’t want to be protected. I wanted to help. I gritted my teeth, looking around the castle. I could make this right.
“We’re going to fight them, right? Rosalind told me how to fight them.”
Ms. Dowling’s lip curled. “Your actions are the reason the school is in danger, Bloom. I’d say you’ve done enough.”
Specialist
The rasps of Burned Ones echoed through the greenhouse. Riven clamped down on his rising panic as he distilled oils. Distilling had to be done with a steady hand. Terra would faint if she saw how badly Dane was grinding those herbs.
Riven confiscated Dane’s pestle and mortar. He’d do it himself.
“Uh … how are you so good with this?”
Dane sounded very surprised. Of course, Riven reflected. Dane didn’t actually know a thing about him. He’d only seen what Riven was trying to be.
“Terra and I used to hang out a bunch here. I’ll deny saying this, but … she’s not the worst,” Riven admitted. I’m the worst. She was right about everything. “I might’ve led you astray this year.”
He’d thought this would be his year. That he’d be cool, and skilled, and surrounded by admirers. No more doubting his place, no more insecurities. Funny to think that Riven had actually been much happier last year. In the greenhouse, surrounded by stuff he was actually interested in, doing what he loved.
Yeah, that was real funny.
Riven poured the oil into the powder. Vapors rose, the correct color. Terra would’ve been proud of him.
Oh wait, obviously she wouldn’t, because he was an evil criminal. Riven placed the concoction next to Beatrix’s still, beautiful face.
When Riven glanced around, he saw Dane watching Beatrix inhale wit
h worshipful intensity.
“You didn’t,” Dane breathed. “Beatrix is special.”
Riven stared at Dane, confused more than anything. Was Dane gay, was he straight, was he just into awful people? If Dane liked girls, maybe Riven could find some way to deliver him to Terra. Dane would be safe then. Riven couldn’t be saved. Nobody wanted him back, but perhaps Dane could be all right.
The world was upside down right now and monsters were coming to kill them all, and he wished he had even a shred of certainty.
Finally, he just asked who it was Dane wanted, and wasn’t terribly surprised when Dane said, “Screw you.”
He was very surprised when Beatrix said archly, “That sounds like an answer.”
They both whipped around to see Beatrix stirring, and stretching as she sat up. It reminded Riven of the way she’d wake up in his bed, when he’d thought she was his girlfriend. When he was happy. And deluded.
“No need to fill me in. I could hear everything.” She fixed them both with her dark eyes, unusually serious. “You two made the right choice. When this is all over, you’re going to want to be on our side.”
Riven thought, panic fracturing his mind, I didn’t make a choice! But he had, hadn’t he? He’d helped Dane. He’d helped Beatrix. As usual, he’d made the wrong choice.
Wow, Terra should’ve tied Riven up with her vines when she had the chance.
Mind
Sam was pouring with sweat and shaking, black veins running under the surface of his skin. Musa watched, Terra beside her, as Professor Harvey injected the oil directly into Sam’s forearm. The veins receded for only an instant, then returned like an oil-black tide.
“Why isn’t the Zanbaq working?” Terra demanded.
Professor Harvey’s brow was knit; Musa could feel his concentration and his worry. “It’s a deep wound. There might be something else going on.”
Harvey pulled bloody gauze from the wound. As he did, Sam screamed. His pain went through Musa’s mind like a second scream, reinforcing the first.
