I swallow hard. My mouth falls open as the bee discovers an air hole and crawls inside.
“Well?” she demands.
“The contents of that crate belong to me. I assume there isn’t a problem.” We all turn as Professor Lyon approaches from the hall down which Poppy just disappeared. My breath rushes out of me.
Julio throws me a panicked look, his arms shaking under the weight of the dolly.
“I... I didn’t realize...” the teacher stammers. “My apologies, Professor. If you’ll excuse me...”
Lyon smiles tightly as she retreats through the doors to the lounge.
The bee emerges from the air hole. With a frenetic buzz, it darts off toward the staff lounge. The professor’s hand shoots out, catching it before it reaches the vent beside the door. In a movement too fast to anticipate or comprehend, he drops it and crushes it under his shoe.
The Spring’s light flickers and dies.
“Go,” Lyon whispers, darting anxious glances at the hallway cameras. “I’ll do what I can, but you won’t have much time.”
I can’t breathe. Can’t tear my eyes from the circle of ash on the floor.
Julio shoves the dolly into the back of my knees, urging me on, watching the professor warily from the corner of his eye as we run.
19
Scratch the Surface
JACK
Poppy’s waiting with Woody and Chill in the hallway behind the Spring kitchen, wringing her hands in front of the service elevators, when Julio and I arrive, breathless.
“Thank Gaia! Did the professor find you?” she asks.
I nod. “How did you know?”
She slams the elevator button, bouncing on her heels as she watches the floor numbers descend. “I ran into him on my way here. He stopped me and asked where you were. It was weird, like heknewor something.”
“Did you tell him?” There’s an edge in Julio’s tone.
“Of course not.” Once our plan was firmly in place, I didn’t tell a soul outside our group. And I’d paid Boreas a generous sum to keep quiet about it. If Lyon knew, it didn’t come from me. I punch the elevator button over and over, but it’s stuck on the floor below us. “Why isn’t the elevator moving?”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Chill whispers.
An alarm sounds—three short blasts. A prerecorded message pours through the intercoms in the ceiling.
“This is a test of our campus security system. All Seasons and Handlers, please remain in your dormitories until notified.”
Poppy stares at the ceiling. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” I tell her.
We listen, watching, waiting for the elevator to move. The heavy thunder of boots grows louder through the wing.
“The Guards. What do we do?” Chill asks.
A swarm of bees clouds the air through the open doors at the end of the service hall. I draw a deep breath, blowing a blast of icy wind, scattering them and tossing them backward. Woody scrambles to shut the doors, barring the handles with a fire ax from a cabinet in the wall.
He points to a sprinkler nozzle over our heads. “We need a distraction. If we can set those off, it’ll trigger the sprinklers and drown out your scents.”
Julio wrenches open the crate. Fleur’s scent hits me square in the face and I tamp down a wave of panic as he rummages in Marie’s jacket, pulls out a lighter, and closes the crate again.
