“Kiks,” Seth pleaded, but she shunned him and strutted off. She had nearly reached the cafeteria’s exit when the glass doors swung open, admitting the chilly November air, as well as two cold-aired humans: the Regular ambassadors.
The Rosses’ emotionless gazes swept the room, and Kiki’s strides halted at the sight of them, her fear strong enough to reach Eliana even with the many minds between them. Artemis Ross stood six inches shorter than Kiki, but the woman’s authoritative aura shrunk the teenager to the size of a worm. As the two Regg ambassadors glared at her with dark eyes, she slowly slunk back toward the table until her bottom was planted in the seat between Seth and Eliana. None of the primaries asked her why she’d rejoined them; the imposing presence of the Rosses alerted everyone that whatever they were about to declare must be heard by all.
“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Ross,” Fraco greeted as he scampered to them. “I was under the impression that you’d already left, otherwise I would have prepared dinner accommodations.”
“We have no intention of leaving,” Artemis replied stonily. A knot at the base of her skull contained her slick, dark hair, pulling the wrinkles of her round face back and giving her a younger appearance than her taller, leaner, and grayer husband.
The vice principal hesitated to answer Artemis’s bold claim, giving William the opportunity to say, “You may resume your seat, Fraco.”
At the faculty table across the room, Aethelred was the only teacher to maintain poise; the rest defaulted to suspicion while Fraco descended into dismay.
“I-I am the acting principal—”
“You’ve been relieved of your duties,” Artemis assured him without any friendliness. He staggered back, as if stabbed, but he didn’t retreat to the teachers’ table before someone else beckoned for his attention.
“Hey, Fraco!” Nero Corvis called from the far corner. Surrounded by his gang of smirking comrades, the bulky bully held no respect for the arrogant adults. The only one of his group that appeared less than amused was Calder, whose eyes aimed enmity at his leader as he bellowed, “What’s with these plastic utensils?”
Fraco squinted, as if trying to physically see the question. “The…utensils…”
“Are we trying to kill the environment now, or can we not wash the metal utensils because of a water shortage?” Nero jeered as he snapped every plastic fork and spoon in reach.
“A water shortage seems impossible to me,” Nixie Mardurus said, flicking the broken pieces of plastic her boyfriend dropped on the table. Like everyone, she wore black, but her lacy, gothic dress was adorned with dark blue accents that matched her spunky hair and sly eyes.
Artemis frowned at Nero’s careless wreckage. “You can thank Adara Stromer for the new plastic utensils. We were informed she stabbed another student with a metal fork; therefore, they have been deemed dangerous.”
“Dangerous,” Calder repeated with a condescending laugh. “She barely broke my skin. And I healed, for the record. I’m not a pu—”
“A wuss,” Fraco interjected, predicting what the boy had intended to say. “You’re not a wuss, Mr. Mardurus—we’re all aware. Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Ross,” he added to the Reggs, now recovering from the bewilderment that had petrified him, “for your consideration of our students’ safety.”
“Where are those lousy Stromers anyway?” Nero asked loudly to no one in particular. Attention flew from the empty table that Avner, Zeela, and Jamad had always occupied to where Eliana and her friends sat near the buffet. She hated the shallow pity her peers vaguely felt when their gazes paused on her.
“The Stromers are no longer students here,” William announced, causing a murmur to wave around the crowd. Eliana knew Avner had gone and Adara was in jail, but for these Reggs to declare they weren’t students, as if they’d been permanently expelled…
Even Nero’s thick eyebrows creased at this news. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means both siblings are criminals,” Artemis informed him. “Avner Stromer has aided in the escape of the captured Wacko, Naretha Salone. If he is found, he will be imprisoned. If he returns here, he will also be imprisoned. Adara Stromer, on the other hand, is a suspected accomplice in Angor Periculy’s recent assassination attempt against my husband and myself. She has been placed in jail, along with Angor, until we can determine her—”
“Adara didn’t try to murder you!” Seth exclaimed, jumping from his seat. “She tried to murder Angor after he tried to murder—”
“Regardless,” William cut in sternly, “she is a danger to this town.”
“Adara Stromer might be a…a witch,” Tray stammered, “but she’s all talk.”
“No, no, Stromer is dangerous,” Nero piped up, nodding with eyes widened in fake fear. Though Eliana wasn’t a fan of his morals, she did have to admire the way he could spin any situation to his advantage. “She should stay in that jail forever, I think.”
“You’re just scared, ‘cause now she might actually beat you in a fight!” Hartman called over to his stepbrother, who abandoned his act of apprehension and aimed his slivered gray eyes at the younger Corvis.
“I could still beat her, but she could hurt other people, and I care a lot about other people.”
Tray snorted audibly, but Artemis spoke before he could jump back into the argument.
“You are all aware by now that Angor Periculy’s assassination attempt resulted in the death of Hastings Lanio.”
“His death was tragic,” William said, dipping his head solemnly. Eliana’s body involuntarily stiffened at his manipulative sympathy. “Mrs. Ross and I have been instructed to ensure nothing of the sort ever befalls Periculand again.”
“How do you plan to do that? Do you have an Affinity for preventing death?” Tray challenged, but Eliana shook her head at him. Even through her anger, she’d been able to read William’s thoughts, and she knew exactly what their plans were.
“No, we are fully Regular,” Artemis replied, “but we have been appointed as the new overseers of this town.”
Fraco had to clasp a chair with his slippery hand to prevent himself from falling. “O-overseers?”
“Technically, we are the new principals,” William explained with little care for the oily man’s mental health. “You will remain vice principal, Fraco—our vice principal. You answer to us now.”
Fraco’s entire face twitched as his hand slid over the chair, but instead of stumbling, he straightened his posture and gave the two Reggs a smarmy bow. “Of course.”
“Of course?” Seth hissed, spinning to face his twin. “He’s just gonna let Adara sit in jail!”
“The next few days will be a time of mourning and adjustment,” Artemis declared, vanquishing the whispers throughout the room. “Mr. Ross and I will assess the situation here in Periculand and determine our next course of action. We ask for your full cooperation through this process. We are here for your safety and security.”
“So, what are the rules now?” Nero asked as he stabbed broken pieces of the plastic utensils into his uneaten meatloaf.
“For now, the rules will remain the same,” William said, “but we believe this school has been run poorly under Angor’s authority, and we plan to make changes.”
“Well,” Lavisa droned, her boots up on the table as she picked at a scab on her calf, “if the rules are the same, that means Corvis will break them just as he always has.”
Nero snarled from across the room, but Seth was the next to speak.
“If the rules haven’t changed, does that mean we can still visit Adara in jail?”
“That is the one rule that has changed,” Artemis countered without remorse. “The prisoners of Periculand’s jail will receive no visitors until we can determine the danger they pose—and ensure there is no one here who would dare to help them escape.”
“Was there ever a point when you hated Hastings for what he did to your lover?” Adara asked, genuinely curious, as she stared up at the plain white ceiling. Again, she lay on
her “bed,” the metal slab cold beneath the warmth of her ash-covered skin. Angor sat in the other corner of the room, looking like a little boy with his knees hugged against his chest.
“No,” he sighed, ignoring the pinkish hair that fell in strands over his face. “I blame myself for Jocosa’s death. If I had not impregnated her, our son never would have killed her. If I had not impregnated her, perhaps her son would not have had an Affinity. If I had been there, at least, I could have trained him, worked with him…” Shaking his head, he stretched out his long legs and pivoted his head toward Adara. “That’s why I was so adamant about training him when he arrived here—why we had so many meetings. I didn’t want him to do what he did to Jocosa to…anyone else.”
Adara’s eyebrows shot up as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Is there someone specific you’re referring to?”
Though Angor pursed his lips, he was unable to voice a response before the door beyond their prison cell opened and Mitt peeked through.
Adara inclined her head slightly to look at him. “Is Devil-Red here?”
“No, I’ve received word from the Rosses—”
“Of course they remain,” Angor said with a dramatic breath. “Have they claimed themselves the rulers of this town yet?”
Mitt shifted uneasily. “Yes, actually. And they’ve decreed that none of Periculand’s prisoners are allowed to have visitors.”
“Of course they have,” Adara grumbled as she banged her head back on the metal. “Did you come to bring me donuts then?”
“Well…no. I came because you have a visitor.”
Springing upright, Adara locked her gaze on where Mitt was positioned in the threshold, shielding the visitor from sight. “Seth?”
“Um—”
“No, it’s Prince Charming,” a slippery voice said as he pushed past Mitt and waltzed into the hall. Still in his suit from the funeral, Calder Mardurus stepped up to the humming metal bars and flashed a cocky grin that gave light to his deep blue eyes. With him, he brought the scent of outside’s downpour—the fresh, damp fragrance Adara had come to recognize—and though the rain should have soaked him, every inch of the boy was perfectly dry. “Cue the clapping and whistling.”
All elation extinguished as Adara rolled her eyes and flopped back against the wall to stare at the ceiling. “God, I’ve had this coming for me, haven’t I?”
A sassy retort from Calder was expected, but his haughtiness had withered and a hint of trepidation now characterized his features. “Your—eyes,” he choked, struggling to regain coolness.
“Oh, yes, I’ve heard they’re a hellish red. I’m pretty hot now, I guess.”
“Aethelred can pull off the red eyes,” Calder began, appraising her carefully, “but you look like a full-fledged demon.”
“Demoness. Yes, I’ve been informed,” she assured him with a dismissive wave. “Have you come here only to say things I’ve already heard, Pixie Prince?”
“Mostly,” he said, shrugging in a way that restored some of his confidence. “I had plans to come here and mock you with the same words you used to mock me when I was on the other side of these bars.” He reached out, as if to touch the electric metal, but then he withdrew with a lofty smirk. “What do you think of these duck slippers, Stromer?” Involuntarily, Adara’s jaw dropped at the sight of the yellow slippers she had once stolen from Kiki to taunt Calder with now on his own feet. “Jealous?”
“Where did you get those?” she demanded, hopping off the table to approach him.
“You were supposed to say, ‘Should I be?’”
“Should I show you what my Affinity can do?” Her jaw clenched at the instinctive burning of her skin. It wasn’t a painful sensation, but flames itched to burst from her flesh, and that sickening thought alone chilled her.
The building fire must have been apparent to Calder, because he licked the derision off his lips. “I raided your dorm before coming here. For all the Reggs’ talk about not being able to visit prisoners, I had no problem sneaking over here. Maybe I’m just naturally stealthy, though.”
“They actually took over? They run this town now? What are they saying about him?” When she threw her thumb over her shoulder in Angor’s direction, Calder noticed him for the first time, and the Pixie Prince’s humorous expression morphed into a scowl.
“They’re saying what I assume is the truth—that the mysterious Angor Periculy attempted to murder the Regg ambassadors with his mind controlling Affinity but killed Hastings instead. And then you erupted like a volcano of flames,” he added, almost delightedly. “Let’s see it, Stromer. Don’t worry about setting the jail ablaze—I happen to be an expert firefighter. We wouldn’t want to let you burn down the prison, would we?”
“I don’t—I can’t—” She cut off her stammers and tightened her hands into fists at her sides. “I don’t have a fire Affinity.”
“No? Well, did you jump into a chimney then? You are covered in soot, if you were unaware.”
Adara snarled through bared teeth, but before she could voice a retort, Calder lifted his finger and sent an invisibly thin jet of water at her face. The liquid streamed across her forehead in an intricate design that she assumed were obscenities carved from the ashes.
“What the hell?”
“Don’t touch it,” Calder reprimanded, swatting her reaching hand with another spout of water. “You’ll ruin the masterpiece. It says ‘LIAR,’ if you’re curious. I was going to write, ‘I’m a foolish, reckless, fire-breathing liar,’ but your forehead’s not that big. What do you think, Telum?”
Mitt scratched his chin as he surveyed her. “The simplicity of it works. Stromer always has been a liar. I’m sure you’ve heard her deny that she set Kiki Belven’s house on fire a few months back, but given her Affinity, we all know that was a lie.”
“If I’d wanted to set Kiki’s house on fire, it would be a pile of ash,” Adara scoffed, blinking furiously as a droplet from Calder’s water-writing slipped onto her eyelashes; the rest had dried instantly upon meeting the unnatural heat of her skin. “And I’m not the liar here; the King is the one who’s spitting lies. Says he’s innocent—didn’t try to kill those Reggs. Claims he doesn’t have a mind controlling Affinity, and that Hastings was his son.”
Mitt blinked his bulging silver eyes while Calder scrunched his blue ones in skepticism.
“I appreciate that you have no qualms with spewing my secrets to whomever enters this room,” Angor intoned. “Considerate, Stromer, very considerate.”
“My brother’s the nice one, Your Highness.”
“How can Periculy be the king if I’m a prince?” Calder asked.
“That’s what you’re wondering?” Mitt blurted out as he paced toward the cell. “I wanna know how Hastings could have been his son.”
“That’s actually the only part of this asshole’s story that I find somewhat believable,” Adara said with a distasteful glance back at her cellmate. “If it is true, though, then the rest…starts to make sense. I need to talk to Aethelred—confirm the facts. I need you to bring him to me.” Her harsh glare was trained on Calder now, and she fidgeted when his lips curled back over his teeth.
“Desperate, are you, Stromer? You must be if you think I’ll meet your demands.”
Adara strolled back to her metal slab in lazy, calculated steps. “I’m not demanding anything, Pixie Prince. I’m perfectly content with allowing this creep to rot in his cell, even if he’s innocent. You should know by now that I have no care for justice.”
“You don’t care about other people receiving justice…but what about for yourself? You know they’re saying you were his accomplice, don’t you? If Periculy burns, so do you.”
Feigning indifference, Adara plopped onto her bed and stretched her arms behind her head. “I hope that pun wasn’t intended, because it was lame. I have no problem with lounging in this cell for the rest of my days—no school, no Tray, no Kiki, and until now, no you.”
Calder studie
d the bare walls, unconvinced. “You bore easily. You won’t do well in here.”
“What makes you say that? All I’ve ever wanted was to do nothing. This is my dream come true. Could use some donuts, though,” she added with a pointed look at Mitt. “Or a freakin’ shower.”
Friskiness readjusted Calder’s features. “I can arrange that, if you get undressed—”
“All right, time for Mardurus to leave,” Mitt announced as he grabbed the boy’s elbow and hauled him toward the exit.
“It was a joke. There’s no attraction between us—we’re opposites.”
“Opposites attract,” Angor put in thoughtfully, and Adara rolled her eyes. “Your water Affinity is impressive, Calder, as is Adara’s fire Affinity, but there is always room for improvement. If you agree to fetch Aethelred—if you help us escape from this jail—I will agree to train both of you, together.”
Calder released a tactless laugh. “I’d rather dance with the devil than train with the Fire Demoness.” Adara’s gaze rose at that, and she fought not to display any hint of emotion. “Besides, based on her words, she enjoys being cooped up in this little hellhole. Then again, who believes the words of a fire-breathing liar?”
5
Velkommen and Un-Velkommen
A cocoon of comforting coldness enveloped Avner, but it ruptured when his body met frigid air. Teeth chattering, he flopped onto the muddy earth and hacked up river water for a few agonizing minutes. When his lungs were finally clear and his eyes focused on his surroundings, he found his companion looked equally unwell.
Faint beams of moving headlights lit Jamad’s blue hair as he shook water from it. To their left loomed the bridge they’d skirted, busy with passing cars, but Avner knew no one would spot them by the river’s edge. The darkness of evening concealed them from view of spectators or searchers.
“Cops,” Jamad coughed with disdain as sirens blared in the distance. “This could have been avoided if they hadn’t chased us.”
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