She steps closer and lays a hand on the small of my back, looking around vigilantly as if to find an explanation.
But I know exactly where it’s coming from, and she can deny it all she wants. At our feet, the pond shimmers and swirls like a potion, something alive waiting beneath the surface.
Sky strides over from down the street, her black traveling cloak billowing. “I’ve cleared the area and put up barricades. No witnesses.”
“Thanks for coming,” I say. Having backup feels good after what happened last time, though part of me wishes I was alone so no one has to see me floundering. “No Madsens?”
“Not yet, anyway. Let loose, Nat.”
Natalie looks at me, checking in, and I nod and step back, gesturing to the pond.
Wasting no time, she raises her hands, her elegant fingers manipulating the earth beneath us. The ground quakes, making me widen my stance for balance, and the water churns as she uses magic to force the creature up.
My stomach roils like the pond. I tighten my grip on the net, trying to remember everything Troy taught me.
Something breaks the surface—a turtle, but not like any I’ve seen. Iridescent patterns shift and swirl on its shell like oil on water. My breath catches, and for a moment, it feels like I’m looking at an endangered species.
“Now, Katie,” Natalie whispers urgently.
Blinking out of my thoughts, I lift my arms, which feel impossibly heavy despite the net’s weightlessness—and a voice rings clear in my head:“Your ancestors knew better.”
I freeze. Wait, is it talking aboutmyancestors specifically? The ancestors of witches? Does the chimera know something I don’t?
The turtle dives, and Natalie swears. She meets my eyes with a look of concern. “What did it say?”
“Again!” Sky shouts, sparing me from answering. She raises her hands to help her sister, and with a deepcrrrack, the earth splits. The water swirls like someone’s pulled a plug.
My heart races as they destroy the pond, its beauty shattering in an instant as murky water sloshes over the pavement. The sight of it being demolished sends a pang through my chest that I don’t fully understand.
Catching a glimpse of the turtle’s shell, I splash in after it, my boots sinking into thick mud. The water is shockingly cold, seizing my legs and sending a jolt of pain through my temples.
Before I can throw, the turtle bursts from the water, mud spraying everywhere. It hits my cheeks, cold and gritty, and I swipe my forearm across my eyes to clear them.
The chimera is already changing. Wings sprout from its shell as it becomes a massive eagle, its wingspan casting a shadow over the muddy ground.
I throw the net. It fans out like it’s supposed to, the golden threads gleaming in the dim morning sun—but the eagle transforms into a snake that drops fast.
In another life, I would be awed and amazed by how this creature can transform. But my inner voice is screaming at me to hurry and catch it before it’s gone.
Fifty-six chimeras. A chimera a day. Five years in prison.
My head swims. I can’t breathe.
“Nearly had it!” Natalie shouts. She and Sky move their hands, manipulating rocks and dirt to block the snake’s escape. Bits of earth hit my skin, adding more grit to my arms and face.
I lunge, slipping in the mud as I grab the net for another try.
The snake becomes a fish that flops in the draining water, its silvery-purple scales shimmering.
I throw again. My technique is better than before. I’m almost there, the net grazing it each time it shifts.
Mud speckles the gold filaments as I grip it tightly. Another toss.
It transforms into a raccoon that scrambles up the bank, trying to get away from us. Shifting rapidly like Troy said it would.
Natalie and Sky break up the earth, forcing the raccoon back. They’re so sure and focused, ignoring the splatters of mud and pond water reaching past their knees.
Then, panic closes around me like a blanket over my mouth, and it’s not only my own—the panic of another being fills the air, thick and smothering. It mingles with mine until I don’t know which emotions are my own anymore.
