Veda understands.
“I’ll admit I’m surprised at your reaction to meeting my father.”
“I was practicing restraint,” she deadpans.
“I’m shocked you know what that is,” Hiram says, tense yet playful.
Veda rolls her eyes. “I also didn’t think it would be appropriate to insult your dad without knowing if Antaris was awake and just staying in his room. The same went for you. I never talked bad about you in front of him. EvenIhave my limits.”
“Thanks.”
She glances at him. “Are you okay after what you just found out?”
“Wereyouokay after talking to Ruth?” he asks pointedly.
“Fair.” Veda has been sitting with what she’s learned and is far from being okay. Ruth has called her twice since they talked, and she can’t answer. Everly sent a message she hasn’t had the heart to read.
When they pull into the parking lot of Weston Academy, there are two cars parked outside. They get out, looking around, and something is ... off. It’s too quiet. Hiram looks ready to gag as he starts for the front doors. “The magic is acrid.”
Veda grabs his arm and tugs him in a different direction. There’s a barrier gate on the side that vanishes once they’re inside. Spider lilies have sprouted everywhere. The way they shimmy oddly and glitch in the wind proves they aren’t real, instead created by Omnipotent magic.
Veda stops, then takes a nervous step over the first.
“Follow me,” Hiram says.
Less cautious but more observant, he walks ahead of Veda, careful to linger with each step. He glances over his shoulder twice. The first time, Veda is stubbornly making her own way through the grass. The second, she’s following in his footsteps. Ahead, Marlene is setting up to analyze, and Gabriel and Francisco stand in the middle of the pasture, near Moab’s body, which is covered with a white sheet.
“Where have you checked for Everett?” Veda asks.
“The greenhouse and stables,” Francisco replies. “There were signs he spent some time living with the horses. We don’t know when. We’verequested backup to search the forest, but everything has been going to hell at the office. Our mole has opened a can of worms. So many are on desk duty for unethical activities that we now have an enforcer staffing problem.”
“We also have a new problem,” Hiram announces, stopping all conversation.
“Ariadne Byers is the source of the Great Vanishing, my curser, possibly a friend of Grace’s,andthe Botanist. She can take the form of anyone, and was a willing participant in the curse case studies Hiram’s uncle ran. Oh, and she’s Hiram’s cousin.” Veda turns to Hiram. “Does that cover it?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh my Cosmos,” Francisco mutters.
“What else do we know?” Gabriel asks.
“Well, nothing can conceal cursed marks. Not even trickster pendants.” He taps his chin. “So you’re looking for someone with a mark from accidentally cursing her own blood along with Veda’s.”
“Speaking of tricksters, Everett said that tricksters fly,” Veda mentions. “Maybe he was being literal. The only birds I can think of as a trickster are a mockingbird—they mimic sounds in the environment—or the blue jay—they imitate hawk calls.”
Marlene jogs over, her pendant swinging. “I’m all set up for the testing.”
An incidental touch makes Veda’s vision blur, Marlene’s features twisting before they sharpen. She gasps so hard, she chokes.
“Are you okay?” Marlene asks, concerned.
Taking a harsh step back, Veda says, “You’re not Marlene.”
Silence crashes like a physical force.
Not-Marlene tilts her head, a bewildered look spreading across her features. “Of course I am.”
“No, you’re not.” Veda lunges forward, yanking the pendant from Marlene’s neck in one violent tug. The blue jay transforms into a fox as the sky darkens to gray, then black. Dark mist rises from the earthas Marlene’s features bleed and condense, stretch and shrink, twist and contort. Her clothes hang looser, her hair grows longer, changing from black to brown, her limbs contracting. The rich brown of her skin fades to fair.
