by Ava Corrigan
Caught.
But then the figure emerged from the shadows, and I saw Dane in his Specialist uniform, clearly on guard duty. Just like the other guards, he looked suddenly older.
“Late-night stroll?” Dane asked.
“Needed some air,” I claimed.
“This particular air? The air outside the place they’ve been holding Beatrix? I know what you’re doing.”
I gave a sharp, unconvincing laugh and started to walk away.
“You don’t know anything.”
“You want to talk to her, don’t you?” Dane asked.
Just walk, Bloom, I told myself.
Then he called after me, “I can help you.”
That stopped me in my tracks. I turned back to face him.
“My guard shift is tomorrow night. Maybe you’ll need air then, too.”
Dane walked away, leaving me to look back at the East Wing. Answers were waiting there, with Beatrix.
But to get to tomorrow night, I had to get through tomorrow.
Fire
The walls of the hedge maze were tall and green around me and Sky, walls so high there was nothing but green around me and blue above.
Until a Burned One burst into view, and began a deadly charge to where we stood, together at the end of a long arm of the maze. Side by side. Sky wielded his sword, and I focused my magic, as the Burned One drew near.
I felt my magic rise. The Burned One burst into flame.
It didn’t stop. It didn’t falter, but came at us like a fireball on legs. Sky tried to parry the blows its fiery fists rained down.
Just as the Burned One was about to score a hit, a whistle blew, and the creature vanished into dust. A crystal, every facet glittering with magic, fell onto the ground where the monster once was.
I tried to regroup, and helped a frustrated Sky to his feet. As he rose, I noticed a cut on his face.
“You’re bleeding,” I murmured.
“Bad?”
“Nah. Want me to …?”
I waved my fingers with a smile. He nodded, so I laid my fingertips gently against his cheek. My magic flared inside me as I touched him, like a tiny spark coming alight, and the wound closed as I used my magic to cauterize it into a scar that vanished like a whisper.
I breathed, “Good as new.”
We stood looking at each other for a moment that went on for a little too long. It seemed like Stella and Sky had broken up, but maybe that was just because her mom had taken her away. I still didn’t want to get in the middle of a complicated situation. I dropped my hand and turned to where the Burned One used to be. I picked up the crystal.
“I wish they would just tell us how to fight these things.”
I wished they’d tell us a lot of things.
“I think that’s part of the fun,” remarked Sky. “Us not knowing.”
“Very on brand for Alfea faculty,” I said bitterly.
Sky was a soldier on task, looking around, and didn’t seem to register my bitterness.
“Professor Harvey?” he asked. “Can we go again?”
Now we were moving toward the exit of the maze, and Terra’s dad moved across the field toward us. “Every failure brings you one step closer to success.”
He should make fortune cookies.
I gave him a chipper smile. “A good lesson, Professor. As usual.”
Sky gave me a sidelong glance, but I firmly ignored him. Professor Harvey picked up the crystal, looking excited to share the wonder of knowledge.
“Fire magic is effective, if wielded properly. Inside each Burned One is a magical core called a Cinder. With time and finesse, your magic can extinguish it and destroy it.”
“Got it,” I said.
I could do this on my own. All I needed was to learn more.
As though he could hear my thoughts, Professor Harvey said, “The key is mutual trust. You must trust your Specialist to hold the Burned One off while you channel controlled magic. And you must trust your fairy to get the job done.”
When Harvey walked away, I joked: “I guess that’s the question, then … Can I trust you?”
I meant to be playful, but Sky stared across the field at the distant figure of Silva. Sometimes I got the sense Sky was keeping secrets from me.
Sky said, “Kinda want to ask you the same thing.”
He might be deflecting, but he was right. I was keeping things from him, too.
Mutual trust? Not so much.
“ ‘A good lesson, Professor, as usual,’ ” Sky said in a squeaky voice that definitely didn’t sound like me. “Who was that girl?”
“After my trip with Beatrix, they’re all still watching me like a hawk.”
That was the truth, as far as it went.
When we left the maze completely behind us, the massive training day was spread out like a feast in front of the castle. I could see Dowling and Silva walking by pairings of fairies and Specialists, sparring with assistants provided for the day. Water Fairies drew water from the lake. Earth Fairies snagged them with vines. Fire Fairies blasted them with flames.
I glanced covertly at Dowling. She already had her eyes fixed on me. Aisha and Musa were walking with Dowling, industriously taking notes like good little helpers. Musa had definitely never struck me as the helper type. Aisha made an I-hate-this face at me, and I smiled back at her.
The same bright, false smile I’d given Professor Harvey. Only Sky had seen through the smile. Sky knew me well enough for that. It seemed like I could always find comfort with Sky.
“I have to show them I’m not one of her … evil … henchwomen,” I explained to him.
Sky cracked a smile. “Because Beatrix is a Bond villain?”
I had regrets. “A bad choice of words.”
“Are you gonna help her carve her name on the moon with a laser?” Sky asked.
“Shut up,” I told him. He was too cute.
Sky grinned like he knew it. “Steal the Eiffel Tower?”
“Can we go again, please?” I yelled.
Grinning together, Sky and I headed back toward the training maze.
Mutual trust? Maybe someday.
Mind
Musa trudged through the field of combat, alongside Aisha and Headmistress Dowling. Aisha eyed her clipboard in a highly professional manner.
“That’ll be attempt five for Sky and Bloom,” Aisha reported.
Dowling addressed Musa. “And?”
Musa said wearily, “He’s slightly winded. She’s … frustrated? But neither of them are fatigued.”
“Good,” said Dowling.
The headmistress looked to Aisha, who quickly made a note. Musa was fatigued herself. And conflicted. And jealous of the others, whose task was so comparatively simple.
“I know they know that I’m reading them, but it still feels invasive. Can’t I use my magic against an actual enemy?”
“Not all fairy magic is suited to combat roles,” Dowling said repressively. “Support is equally, if not more, important. Your magic can help us assess fragile mental states or uncover hidden enemies.”
Her voice was pointed. Musa exchanged a quick look of alarm with Aisha. Was Dowling talking about Bloom?
Swiftly, Aisha put in, “Like Beatrix?”
Dowling hesitated. “Exactly.”
Musa chanced directing a little of her magic at Ms. Dowling. “How is she, by the way? Have you found out why she … killed Callum?”
Dowling’s walls were higher than the hedge walls in the maze.
“Let’s keep focused,” their headmistress said crisply. “Who is next?”
Earth
Terra staggered toward the Bastion benches, barely able to walk after her training session. Her path to rest was cut off by her own father.
“You doing all right there, love?”
Terra didn’t dignify that with a response.
“I made Popsicles earlier, if you—”
Terra nodded curtly. She wasn’t taking Popsicle bribes to forgiv
e him for lying to her.
“I’m fine … but thank you.”
Her dad nodded, message received, and left her alone.
At last, Terra reached the benches and grabbed her water bottle. She was so hot and thirsty, and she felt super gross. She was sure her face was the color of an overripe tomato, the kind of tomato that made everyone wonder how a tomato got in such an awful state.
Lean, muscular, and barely looking phased, a Specialist named Kat grabbed up her bag from next to Terra. Terra hated her deeply.
“That vine restraint move’s not half bad, Ter.”
Actually, maybe Kat was okay. Maybe she was awesome, and they would be friends.
“Yeah,” Terra said eagerly, even as she gulped water. “It’s all about … tensile strength … of the cellulose …”
Kat gave her a blank stare and veered away from the benches.
Clearly, Kat did not care about tensile strength. Nobody did. Terra was so dumb. She should know better than to talk like this by now.
Terra closed her eyes, willing herself to cool down.
When she opened them, Riven was sitting next to her. Terra almost jumped out of her skin. Had Riven not seen her there? Terra had been told she wasn’t difficult to spot.
Riven looked absolutely wrecked, his usual swagger nowhere to be found. His eyes were all hollowed out from lack of sleep. He seemed to have lost his hairbrush, and his hair resembled a gorse thicket run entirely wild and in need of urgent pruning.
As Terra studied Riven’s tired, sad face, she accidentally made eye contact. Terra swiftly looked away and sprang up to gather her stuff. Riven stared straight ahead.
“Tensile strength?” said Riven quietly. “Hot.”
He offered her a tiny smile, gone as soon as seen.
“She’s right, you know. You’re a force out there.”
Terra was astonished. Were these compliments? Was Riven feeling well?
But one look at him would tell anyone he wasn’t.
“You, too,” she told him softly.
Riven dismissed that with a swear. “I was crap. After two attempts with me, Aisha quit combat and switched to support.”
It was totally natural Riven wasn’t at his best after all the traumatic events. He was good normally, Terra considered. Maybe not as good as Sky yet, but he had potential.
Riven must be lonely. Terra was a little lonely with Stella gone, their Winx Club missing a key member, and Stella had just gone away with her mom. Stella wasn’t a murderer.
“It’s been a weird week,” she reassured him. “You … I’m sorry. I know you and Beatrix were close. This must be really hard.”
Riven swallowed and glanced up at her. This time Terra didn’t look away. His eyes held hers and a true smile began to curve his mouth, brightening his face immeasurably. She thought he might be about to say something important, then Dane walked over and interrupted them. God, if only Terra could hit Dane’s beautiful face with a melon.
“Sweet moves, Riv,” Dane sneered. “I’ve never seen somebody die so many different ways so quickly. You should go out for Alfea’s Got Talent.”
Riven shook his head, trying to ignore Dane. Terra thought that was the right attitude to take!
Dane scoffed and walked off, but the damage was done. Riven’s shoulders had slumped. He wasn’t smiling anymore.
“Um …” Terra said to Riven. “What was that?”
She’d thought Dane and Riven were friends. Of course, she’d once thought Dane was sweet.
Riven said tiredly, “That was a sick burn from the first-year monster I created. Or Beatrix created. He’s still got a thing for her. Like a weird gay thing?”
Wait, gay? thought Terra. She’d thought the Instagram story was just cool-fairy debauchery. Oh no, Riven had thought Dane liked him? No wonder Riven had taken to Dane. Riven liked it when people liked him. And it hardly ever happened, because Riven was the worst.
He’d thought Dane liked him, and of course he’d believed his girlfriend liked him. And he’d been wrong on both counts. Oh, Riven.
“Is he even gay? I don’t know anything anymore.”
Riven gave a defeated sigh, and then looked wearily around as though wondering where he was. Slowly he got up and trudged away.
It would have been the action of a maniac to rush after the worst person in Alfea and get him a blanket and that deeply needed hairbrush.
So Terra just watched Riven go. For no good reason at all, she felt her heart break a little.
Mind
All was peaceful in Musa and Terra’s room. Well, as peaceful as it ever got.
“In your mind, I just sit on my bed listening to nineties grunge, half doing runes homework, and sexting your brother, don’t I?” Musa asked, hiding her phone.
Terra considered the matter, then visibly decided she didn’t want to consider the matter, and then grabbed another plant pot.
“Just a few more plants and it won’t feel so … ghostly in there,” she announced, determinedly chipper.
“A Stella Plant Exorcism?”
“An empty room just creeps me out! It’s been a week. We need to accept she’s not coming back. No matter how much we wonder how she’s doing or text or call or check her Insta. Snap. Tumblr. Pinterest.”
Well, that wasn’t an unexpected feeling, but it was coming off Terra in waves. No wonder Dane had turned out to be a weasel. Terra actually liked awful people.
“Wait. Do you … miss Stella?”
“No!” said Terra. “She was mean and insulting and left without saying goodbye, which is actually the meanest …”
“Do you want me to insult you?” Musa asked. “Will that make you feel better?”
“What? No!” Terra paused. “Maybe just … my outfit?”
Just then, a crash sounded from Stella’s room, and Terra rushed out to remedy the situation. Terra must have placed the eighteenth plant in a precarious position.
With their door open, Musa could hear Aisha, trying hard to have a heart-to-heart with Bloom. So much suitemate drama. Musa had never thought she’d feel this way, but she was actually happy she had Terra as a roommate. Terra was the best one.
Plus, Terra had that hot brother.
“Bloom,” said Aisha. “You know I’m here if you want to talk, right? I know after everything … you feel like you can’t trust Dowling, but I would never … You can talk to me about anything. It’s between us.”
Yeah, or not, Musa thought. She wished Terra had closed the door.
“I know. I don’t have anything to talk about. I want to focus on training this week. I’ve spent too much time focusing on everything other than school, and—” The sound of a phone ringing cut off Bloom’s feeble excuses. “I should grab this.”
Bloom walked out of the suite.
As soon as the door shut behind Bloom, Aisha bolted out of her room and into Musa and Terra’s.
“We need to talk about Bloom!” she announced. “She’s been single-minded about her birth parents and Rosalind for weeks. Are we actually meant to believe she’s just … over it?”
Terra nodded, acknowledging how unlikely this scenario was, and put down her plants in surrender.
“Has she said anything about what happened that day with Beatrix?”
“Nothing,” Aisha answered.
Then both Aisha and Terra turned to look at Musa with dawning suspicion.
“All the wisecracks about me broadcasting feelings, and you think I was going to volunteer that Bloom’s a mess?”
It was Bloom’s business. Aisha and Terra shared a look, as if to say: fair point.
“I know she’s keeping something from us. I just don’t know what it is. Like why would she be texting Dane?” asked Aisha.
“She was texting Dane?” Terra demanded.
Musa got hit by a wave of emotion from Terra. Fear. Betrayal. Longing. Something about melons.
“That was laced with more alarm than seems appropriate,” she remarked.
Ter
ra and Aisha both turned to Musa, startled. She stared back, giving a mental shrug. People. Can’t escape from reading their emotions, can’t stop them getting upset about it. Can’t win.
Terra came to a decision. “Yeah … I saw him today. Riven said he’s still Team Beatrix.”
Musa didn’t need to read emotions to know they were all alarmed by this information.
Fire
My heart beat fast as I refused the call from my parents and made my way to the East Wing that was Beatrix’s jail. I couldn’t face them, knowing so little, with the awareness I knew even less. I could only talk to my mom again when I knew who I truly was.
Dane was standing guard as he’d promised. Next to him, apparently asleep in a chair, was another Specialist.
“It’s okay,” Dane said. “He’s out.”
Dane held out a baggie of powder. I was alarmed by the possibility it was poison or hard drugs.
Dane sighed. “Relax. It’s a minor sedative. He’ll be awake in an hour. She’s waiting.”
I ventured near the cell bars to find Beatrix curled in the corner. She looked up when she saw me. I thought it was a genuine smile, but there was a touch of the tigress about this lady.
“Somebody took her sweet time,” Beatrix purred, rising to her feet as I got closer. But I didn’t have the energy for any of Beatrix’s usual garbage.
“Did you kill Callum?” I demanded.
“Right at it, then. Good girl,” said Beatrix.
“Did you?” I pressed.
“Short answer. Yes.”
That was honest enough. So honest I was stunned. “Do I want to know the long answer?”
“How about the medium one?” Beatrix suggested. “Callum wasn’t some suck-up assistant. He wanted the same thing I want.”
Realization descended on me. “He was here to break Rosalind out?”
“A bit more complicated than ‘evil Beatrix kills hapless assistant.’ That’s the story the faculty is going with, right? I mean, I get it. Who wants to deal with nuance?”
It took a moment to absorb. Then I said the names of those Beatrix was dismissing as “the faculty.” “Dowling, Harvey, Silva … They didn’t tell me the truth about a lot of things. But just because they haven’t doesn’t mean you have.”