Owen finishes the last bite of cake, then stands up, looking at me intently before he leaves. He looks awkward for a moment, as if he doesn’t know what to say, then waves clumsily and gives me a short “bye” as he turns around and leaves.
After he’s gone, I realize he might have wanted to hug me or kiss my cheek, but didn’t ask. It makes me a little sad, but I don’t worry too much about it. I finish the cake, practically licking the plates for every last scrap of jam and cream.
I’ll have to thank Hyacinth. This was truly one of the best things I’ve ever eaten.
I clean up the kitchen just to give myself something to do, then go outside into the backyard for some air. I’m thinking about going over to the infirmary when I hear footsteps coming around the side of the house.
“Hey—you!” someone yells. “Good. You’re here, and I won’t have to hunt you down. You have to answer for what you’ve done.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, turning to see a small group of people coming into the yard. “What’s the problem?”
As they get closer, I realize it’s the same pack members who confronted me before, and they look hostile. I take a few steps back, but I’m too far from the house, and it would be far worse to run and be chased down than to stand my ground.
“Youarethe fucking problem!” the one in the lead says. There are five of them, three men and two women, and all of them look exhausted as well as angry.
“I’m here to help,” I say calmly. “Tell me what’s happening.”
“What’s happening is that you are killing the pack!” the man hisses at me. “Since Owen brought you here, more people get sick by the day—and more people are dying! It’s happening faster than before!”
Guilt twists in my heart, but I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself—and the others—down.
“We are trying,” I say. “Owen and I have been working on a few solutions. I promise you, we are—”
“No, no,” the young man says, shaking his head. “We can’t. We’ve had enough. This is clearly your fault, and you can’t be here anymore.”
He lunges towards me, and I can see anger on his face, but also desperation. He means to hurt me, that much is certain, and he’s angry enough to do something truly terrible, even if he doesn’t really mean it.
He lashes out, and I throw my arms up to protect my face, feeling contact but not really noticing it. I try to plant my feet and not run away, because I know it will only make the situation worse.
I feel compassion for all of them in that moment, and still the same hollow, desperate sense that I’m supposed to be helping, but I can’t. I’ve been worse than useless this whole time, and it tempers my fear and any bad feelings I might have towards these people for attacking me.
I step backwards, but he comes after me, and the two other men do as well. Without thinking, I throw my hands up, and a powerful vibration hums through me, like a soundless clapof thunder that ripples through me from my feet all the way up to my head.
To my shock, the three guys get blown backwards off their feet. I watch them get picked up and tossed through the air like dolls—only a few feet, but enough to frighten me, and them. As they fall heavily on the ground, I run towards them, terrified that I’ve hurt them.
Did I do that? Was it my powers? What the fuck?
I check on the three young men. They’re winded and bruised, but not badly injured. That’s when I notice one of the women has fallen, but I didn’t touch her with my power.
If that’s what it was.
I kneel beside her, leaning over to look into her face. Instinctively, I lift her eyelids, seeing her eyes rolled back. She’s having trouble breathing, and her lips are so pale, they’re tinted blue.
I take one of her hands and put my other on her forehead. Recalling the feeling I had a few seconds ago, where I seemed to be connected to the earth, sky, and everything in between, I reach into my core, calling up my power.
I’m surprised but pleased when the strange tingles flow through me again, and a breeze immediately comes along to ruffle my hair. I can’t help but smile as the power moves through me, a sweeping sense of purpose and harmony that soothes me and energizes me.
I watch color come back into the woman’s cheeks, and eventually, she opens her eyes.
“What are you doing to her?” the noisy guy yells, getting up from the ground. “You evil witch, you just used your powers on us. Now you’re hurting poor Janice—”
“I’m not hurting her,” I say, standing up and turning to face him. “I’m helping her. She’ll be up in a few minutes. You’ll see—”
“All I see is her on the ground and your evil powers at work!” he yells. “You just tried to kill us!”
“Who tried to kill who?”
Owen’s voice rings through the air, and I almost collapse with relief to see him striding out of the woods towards us.
