A slight smile rippled over Miss Westin’s pale lips as she watched Fiona’s internal struggle. And then, seeing her student hold her temper, the Headmistress nodded.
“Team Scarab,” Miss Westin continued, “for their valiant efforts, however, will be given a ‘non-grade’ for the match. Their midterm grade will be based wholly on their
Fiona took that in, stunned, but quickly recovered.
Okay, so they wouldn’t get the win, but it wouldn’t count against them, either, in gym. She could live with that. Still, that left Scarab in a precarious position of having one win, one loss, and a draw.
It was, however, nice that they’d gotten an A on their midterm. Eliot had really pulled off a miracle in the maze, and yet, it irked her that it was an A-. What was the
She knew better, though, than to let out even a squeak of a complaint in front of Miss Westin.
Fiona shot a quick warning glance to the rest of her teammates-especially bigmouthed Jeremy Covington.
Miss Westin turned to face the other students. “Team Dragon.”
The Dragons stood at full attention.
“You were slated to compete against Team Scarab,” Miss Westin said. “I accept that you were led astray by unscrupulous influences, so we shall record the loss of this match on your gym record.”
The Green Dragon students stiffened as if struck.
The huge boy who was the Green Dragon Team Captain ran a hand over his crew cut and answered, “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
Miss Westin then strode to Team Wolf, slowly pacing before them.
They looked as if they were about to be executed, shuffling feet, the color draining from their faces; one girl looked as if she were hyperventilating.
“Team Wolf,” Miss Westin said. “We shall also mark you down as a loss for this match.” She halted before Donald van Wyck.
He looked up, but reluctantly, as if he had no choice in the matter, and whispered, “May I speak, Headmistress?”
“No. I have spoken to your family,” Miss Westin told him. “They lobbied quite vigorously on your behalf, but you sealed your fate when you diverted Mr. Ma’s attention and arranged this demonstration of your ‘superiority.’ Pride, arrogance, and underestimating a worthy opponent-these are among your many failings.”
Van Wyck remained standing, but his shoulders slumped.
If Fiona hadn’t hated him so much, she would have felt some pity.
“These personality traits we might have addressed and corrected here at Paxington, given enough time,” Miss Westin continued. “But broken rules?
She turned her back to him.
“You are hereby
Donald van Wyck looked up, eyes wide. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. He glanced helpless to his teammates, but none of them would look his way.
Harlan Dells moved to his side and set one massive hand on his shoulder.
Van Wyck looked at Fiona, eyes pleading.
Maybe she should say something.
No-he’d tried to kill her, Eliot, and everyone on her team. Fiona’s glare sharpened. He was getting off easy.
Miss Westin nodded to Mr. Dells, and the Gatekeeper marched him off the field.
Fiona watched until they vanished into the tunnel.
Miss Westin withdrew her tiny black book and made a note within.
“There,” she said. “I believe that ends this matter. Students, you are dismissed.”
The Dragons and Wolves skulked off the field.
As they left, Jeremy whooped and danced a celebratory jig. He hugged his cousin Sarah.
Robert and Mitch exchanged a more reserved high five.
Fiona should have felt like celebrating, too. Instead, she was wary, as if something else bad were about to happen.
Eliot stepped next to her and whispered, “I wonder if we’ll see him again.” He gazed at the dark tunnel through which Donald van Wyck had left.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I hope not.”
Had they won today? Or made an enemy for life? Or with his Van Wyck necromancy. . had they made an enemy for eternity?
Fiona’s attention turned as she saw timid Amanda Lane approach Jezebel, working up the courage to speak.
Fiona marched over to them and heard Jezebel reply, “I need no mortal’s assistance.”
The Infernal glared at Amanda, who took a step back.
Jezebel glanced at Fiona, and in a less threatening tone, said, “No help. Thank you.” She picked up an abandoned Paxington blazer off the grass and snugged it about her shoulders-wincing. A dot of blood seeped through.
“There is only one place that can help me,” Jezebel murmured. “Home.” She limped off the field.
Robert and Mitch joined Fiona and Amanda, and they watched her stalk off.
“Is she going be okay?” Robert whispered.
“I don’t know,” Fiona said. “But I know there’s nothing we can do for her-not when she’s so. . I don’t know what she is.”
Mitch shook his head as he watched Jezebel leave. “Don’t let her get to you. We did good today.”
Fiona felt a twinge of irrational anger toward the Infernal. She wasn’t sure why. Jezebel had made it possible for them to win the match. Maybe even saved all their lives by nearly throwing hers away. And yet. . something was so wrong about her.
Fiona turned to ask Eliot if he had a clue.
But Eliot was nowhere on the field.
Eliot tried not to think about what he was doing. . but that wasn’t his best thing.
Or perhaps as Louis would declare,
But this was none of those things. Eliot followed Jezebel because he had to. Something inside him pulled him along the sidewalk, a magnetic force he was helpless to resist-but something also repelled him from her and held him back from rushing to her side and wrapping his arms about her broken body.
Jezebel walked ahead of him half a block. She had someone’s oversized Paxington jacket on. She half stepped, half stumbled along, and then paused to lean against a building.
Other people didn’t notice. Tourists with Chinatown maps, a bunch of older women complaining about the President, and a policeman on bicycle-none of them offered to help or even ask if she was okay.
Of course, if they had tried, Jezebel, the Protector of the Burning Orchards and Handmaiden to the Mistress of Pain, might have torn their throats out. . so it was probably some primitive human instinct for self-preservation that made them shy away.
Self-preservation instincts that apparently Eliot lacked, because he had slipped out of the Ludus Magnus when he overheard Amanda and Fiona talking to Jezebel, and her adamant refusal for help.
He knew she’d never let anyone help her. Just as Eliot knew that she desperately
Eliot was determined to make sure she was okay. Even if that meant sneaking out ahead of her, lurking in the shadows, and then following her like some creepy stalker.
Although he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. Make sure she got home okay, he guessed-make sure she
