All That Lives Must Die

“You mean they could break up Scarab?”

What if she and Mitch, Robert, Amanda. . or Eliot got reassigned to different teams? How could she ever compete against any of them?

“No worries. We’re only down one. And theoretically, Jezebel could show up any time. If she doesn’t, it’s more likely Scarab will pick up a straggler from another team.”

Then maybe Jezebel going missing could turn out to be a good thing. As an Infernal, she was the strongest person on their team, but that didn’t make up for being a monster. Not to mention the effect she had on Eliot.

The sun broke through the fog as they emerged near Bristlecone Hall, and they strode along the cobblestone path to the front gate.

It might all actually work out for the best. Fiona playfully swung her arm with Mitch’s.

Mr. Dells opened the gate. “Have a wonderful day, kids.” His laserlike gaze, however, carefully tracked Mitch as they left.

“We will,” Fiona told him.

As they approached the end of the thoroughfare, Mitch whispered, “Here we go. Hang on.” His smile vanished and intense concentration crossed his face.

There was vertigo, a flash of light, and a step-

— and the concrete sidewalk they were just walking upon was a path of granite strewn with pebbles and dust.

The air was clean and fresh and cold. Fiona blinked to adjust to the brighter light; she saw that they were on a mountain path. Flags and streamers fluttered along the precipitous edge. Titanic granite ridges jutted into a startling blue sky, and below them roiled clouds.

“Listen,” Mitch whispered.

Fiona cocked her head. In the distance echoed bird cries.

A flock of cranes broke through the clouds-hundreds of flashing wings and gray-blue feathers streamed up toward them, and then over their heads.

“It’s their spring migration,” Mitch explained. “They go right over the top of the Himalayas. Reminds me of what we do at school. All of us trying to get to the top.”

Fiona watched the flock flap through the thin air, higher and higher.

“Every year,” he said, “they struggle to get over this mountain. Some don’t. Some die. Are we the same? It’s great we’re learning, but why? Graduate with honors? Be like our parents?”

The flock crested the ridge. The cranes called out once and then glided effortlessly, silent, exhausted, and vanished.

“I definitely don’t want to be like my parents,” Fiona replied.

That would be a choice between her emotionally distant mother, and her father, who was. . what? A monster? At best, a liar and thief.

“Not knowing what I want to be is part of the reason I’m at a Paxington,” she said. “I need to get my bearings and figure a few things out.”

That wasn’t the entire truth, though. Fiona had something to prove at school, too: that she was as good as anyone else-not only at school, but at the League as well.

“I guess,” Mitch said. “I just wish they gave us some breathing room in our schedules.” He exhaled. “Speaking of breathing”-he pulled her along-“we should move. It’s not good to be at this altitude for too long without oxygen.”

They trudged along the path, Fiona started feeling a bit dizzy now, and they rounded a ledge and into shadows-

— and stumbled over roots and underbrush, and a flock of butterflies took to the air, making a storm of confetti-like flutterings.

“This way,” Mitch said, pushing branches out of their way.

Fiona struggled to breathe the now heavier, moist air. She got her bearings and saw the faintest of trails snaking through the jungle. There were stone heads as big as houses and overgrown with hundred-year-old tree roots. Those idols stared at her with blind sockets.

Ahead was the sound of water churning and crashing.

Mitch stopped abruptly and parted ferns for her.

They stood on the edge of a river that plunged into a kilometer-wide sinkhole. Along the steep edges, trees and vines grew at precipitous angles. The water never seemed to hit the bottom-instead it vaporized into rainbows.

“Down there is the Cavern of the Six Fairy Kings,” Mitch whispered in hushed awe. “There’s supposedly a trail leading down. . somewhere. I’ve never found it. The cave is one of the fabled gateways to the Faerie Lands-if you believe that sort of thing.”[47]^, [48]

“Jeremy would give anything to see this,” Fiona whispered.

“Like I’d ever bring him here.” Mitch said.

So many places, and so many fantastic sights, and being with Mitch-it was disorienting, but Fiona nonetheless managed to pick up their conversation where it left off. “So, Mr. Stephenson,” she said, “why are you at Paxington?”

Mitch’s smile faded. He let go of her and laced his hands, thinking. “At first, because it’s what was expected of me. I studied for years, sacrificing, and taking tests.”

He fell silent; his gaze drifted to the waterfall.

“But?” Fiona asked.

“But. . it’s not like I thought it would be. Paxington. The people there. Even this world we live in. It’s more complicated than I thought, terrible-and wonderful, too.”

For the first time, she saw Mitch struggle with some inner turmoil. “I want to change it all,” he told her, and looked into her eyes. “Immortals and the magical families, the way they run things. . it’s all so political and greedy. It’s about power and not about people or principles.”

Fiona nodded. “I think I know what you mean. The League of Immortals used to stand for something-order and fighting wrongs, but that seemed to end with a treaty with the Infernals. All that’s left today is posturing and politicking. Where did all their greatness go?”

They both fell silent, the only sound the thundering of the water.

“So let’s change it together,” she suggested, and found his hand again and wove her fingers through his.

He didn’t object, and he looked at her hand, turning it over.

“No,” he told her. “What I want to do one day. . it’ll be stupid. . and probably dangerous.”

“I’m willing to do stupid, dangerous things, as long as it’s with you.” A smile crept across her face.

“Maybe,” he whispered. “I still have to figure a few things out.” He shook his head, looked up, saw her smiling, and mirrored it. “Hey, let’s just get through our next match and then we can plot to change the world.”

“Sure.”

But Fiona was already dreaming about what it would be like to make the world a better place. How would they begin? With magic? Politics? Something subversive?

Mitch led her down the path until it faded, and then through the deep shade of a banyan tree-

— and they stepped from its shadow to one cast by a lamppost onto Pacific Avenue in San Francisco.

“There we go,” Mitch said. “A few blocks from home, all safe and sound.”

Fiona bit her lip. That was it?

Then she stopped her pout. Mitch had just revealed one of his deepest secrets to her, taken her to the Himalayas, probably to Indonesia, and back here. She was getting spoiled by all the magic. . and all the attention Mitch was giving her.

He stepped closer, still holding her hand, and said, “Don’t tell anyone how I feel about Paxington and the families. I can imagine what they’d think or do if they knew I was such a rebel.”

She touched his lips with her finger, silencing him. The softness of his flesh sent a ripple of electricity along her arm.

“I won’t tell-even though I think what you’ve said is the noblest thing I’ve ever heard.”