All That Lives Must Die

Fiona fought that feeling, though. She took a step closer to her brother.

“Second,” Miss Westin said, “students shall assemble as I call their teams before the midterm entrance.” She gestured to the now-open Picasso Arch. “This, however, is only to prevent bottlenecks during the examination.”

Fiona understood what Miss Westin said, but not what it meant. Bottlenecks during the exam? How could there be a bottleneck?

“Third,” Miss Westin continued, “answering a question incorrectly may be dangerous. I advise that you not risk guessing. If you do not know an answer, move to another path, or if you find yourself at a dead end, you may stop the examination by raising your hand and declaring yourself ‘done.’ You will be removed and your score tallied.”

These new facts sent waves of murmurs through the gathered freshmen.

Maybe because the notion of giving up was abhorrent to this crowd of overachievers. Or maybe, like Fiona, it was the idea of being utterly mortified by being “removed” from the exam in front of everyone.

Or just maybe it was because Fiona couldn’t imagine how putting down a wrong answer could be dangerous. . although she took Miss Westin at her word.

This test obviously wasn’t going to be a normal pencil-and-paper, multiple-choice type thing.

Miss Westin opened her little black book and ran a bony finger down the page. “Ah, yes,” she said, “first up- Green Dragon. Gather before the entrance now.”

Eight students pushed forward through the crowd.

Eliot and Fiona got out of their way before they got trampled.

Green Dragon had some big people on it. The boys looked like seniors-giants compared with Eliot. Even the girls were all a head taller than Fiona. They shot one another sidelong glances and elbowed each other for the best forward positions.

Fiona didn’t get it. Okay, sure, they were all competing for the same good grades. But the people on Green Dragon had fought together in gym class. Didn’t that count for anything? She couldn’t imagine being so rude to anyone on her team. . not even Sarah or Jeremy.

The Dragons nervously bounced on the balls of their feet as Miss Westin checked off their names in her book. She removed her silver pocket watch and made a note of the time.

“You may proceed,” she told them. “Good luck.”

They rushed the archway-pushed and shoved down the tight corridor, and then were gone.

The tunnel swallowed the sounds of their passing.

Fiona shivered.

Miss Westin flipped a page in her book and declared: “Team Scarab. Gather before the entrance.”

Adrenaline shot through Fiona. She wasn’t ready. She should have reread the Clan Canticles this morning. She definitely should have gone to the girls’ restroom one last time. Everything she had learned this semester seemed to be gone from her memory.

Eliot nudged her.

She turned on him, irritated.

Worry creased his brow as well, but amazingly, he looked ready to do battle. It was the same stoic concentration she’d seen when he fought those shadow demons in the alley.

Fiona snorted. Well, if he could keep his cool, then so could she.

Together they stepped toward Miss Westin.

The Headmistress gave them both a tiny nod of approval. Her gaze then darkened as it fell upon the rest of Team Scarab.

Behind them gathered Jeremy, Sarah, Mitch, Robert, Amanda, and last, Jezebel.

Jeremy and Sarah looked impeccable in their freshly pressed Paxington school uniforms. Both had their long hair pulled back tight and had looks of total focus on their faces. But they weren’t together like her and Eliot. They stood on opposite sides of the team, deliberately not looking at each other.

Amanda brushed aside her hair, spotted Fiona, and gave her a confident smile.

Fiona reciprocated the gesture, relieved that at least one other member of Team Scarab wasn’t putting friendship before grades.

Why was it an either/or choice? Fiona didn’t accept that to win this battle, one of her friends or someone on her team had to lose because of the grading curve.

Mitch and Robert simultaneously noticed her; Mitch grinned, Robert frowned-then they saw each other looking at her and quickly diverted their gazes.

She’d have to have a talk with Robert soon. This limbo state they were in relationship-wise was doing neither of them any good.

Fiona shook her head to clear those thoughts. She had to stay focused on how to help out her team while winning at the same time.

Jezebel limped up to join them.

She was, as ever, lovely and poised as a porcelain doll with perfect platinum curls. . but broken, too. One arm hung in a sling, and tiny drops of black blood seeped through. There was a bruise on Jezebel’s check (although somehow its placement actually enhanced her strange attraction).

For the first time, Fiona felt something close to sympathy for the Infernal.

To have to go through midterms injured like that. .

Fiona wondered what on earth could have done that to her. She wanted to go over there and offer her help.

There was no way, though, that proud Jezebel, Infernal Duchess of the Grand Whatsits was going to accept help from anyone, least of all her.

Eliot took a tentative step toward her, his face lined with concern.

But he halted when he saw her expression-just a quick glance at him, full of steel and venom and hurt-like if he took one step closer, she would either punch him in the face. . or cry.

Jezebel then looked purposely away.

Eliot sighed and stepped back.

Fiona wanted to say something to her brother, but what? How did you help someone who didn’t want help?

The answer to everything came to Fiona: not only how to help Jezebel-but everyone on the team-and Eliot- and herself.

“Hey,” she whispered, and motioned Team Scarab closer.

Jeremy sniffed, and the rest of them looked about unsure. None of them moved an inch.

“Come on,” she chided, and then in a low whisper so only they could hear: “I’ve got a way to boost everyone’s grade on this thing.”

“Oh, very well,” Jeremy said, moving closer, acting like he was doing her the biggest favor in the world.

The rest of them followed, except Jezebel, who remained on the outside of their huddle. Fiona had no doubt, though, that with her Infernal ears, she’d be eavesdropping.

“I think we should work together on this,” Fiona started.

“Just as I said,” Jeremy whispered to Sarah, scowling. Then to the rest of the team, he muttered, “Don’t you understand that be the one thing we cannot do? Help one person, as well meaning as that might seem, you hurt yourself. That’s the way this grade curve works, lassie.”

Mitch looked sheepish and chimed in, “I hate to admit it, but he’s right. It’s a mathematics thing. Not personal.”

“It might be ‘right’ by the numbers,” Fiona shot back, “but you’re missing the bigger picture.”

Jezebel inched closer.

“And what is that?” Sarah said, managing to sound sweet and condescending at the same time.

“We’ve all studied the same stuff in Miss Westin’s class.” Fiona leaned in closer. “But each of us has an edge in a different area. Me, Eliot, and Robert know a lot about the Immortals and the League.”

She had spent most of her time learning about her relations so far this year. A little obsessed, really. Robert had a bunch of firsthand experience. And Eliot? Fiona just assumed that’s what he’d been studying, too.

“The Covingtons and Mitch know tons about the mortal magical families,” she added. “Jeremy especially has