No, I had to fix this myself. There were no two ways about it—I had to catch them, or all those thoughts of independence and self-reliance could take a flying leap out of the window. At the very least, I had to give it my best try, or I’d be back where I was before I came to this place. Always running for help at the first sign of trouble, with everyone looking at me as a dud or a hopeless case, not worthy of the Merlin name. Maybe if I’d Purged a stampede of griffins or Cerberuses, I’d have no choice but to phone her and call in the cavalry, but these weren’t huge, devouring beasts. They were small and hadn’t seemed bloodthirsty. They were a good jumping-off point to start testing my skills as a hunter who deserved her place here—a follow-up to what I’d started, and never got to finish, during my exam.
So far, I hadn’t seen any smashed glass or signs of miscreant behavior, which meant I still had time to remedy the situation. Hadn’t I asked for an opportunity to prove myself? Sure, I hadn’t expected there to be so many critters to catch at once, but this would give me a chance to put my money where my mouth was when it came to cleaning up my own problems. My mom would’ve tried to clean things up herself before reaching out for assistance, and it was about time I started acting more like my mother’s daughter. Then, if things did go awry and I couldn’t wrangle all of them, I had Victoria and an Institute full of hunters to fall back on. But, if it came to that, I’d be able to say that I’d tried to fix things myself first. Proof of my perseverance.
“I don’t suppose you could make this easier for me and friggin’ show yourselves?” I grumbled, scouring every possible nook and cranny for the buzzy bastards. I searched cupboards, storage rooms, behind statues, under side tables, inside vases, in bathroom cubicles, behind every curtain—just about every dark hiding place they might’ve snuck into.
Peering through open doors, I checked over common rooms, bathrooms, and kitchenettes, listening for any startled screams. The halls lay uncomfortably silent, like the little creatures were deliberately toying with me. With every corner I turned, I half expected one to leap out and shriek in my face, just to get a good laugh. And, perhaps, to get a giggle out of seeing my sweatpants turn soggy again. I would’ve preferred it if they had tried to frighten the living daylights out of me. At least then I would know where they were.
This is hopeless… The Institute was enormous, and these creatures were teensy by comparison. Even if I searched every corner, it wouldn’t stop them from hiding somewhere else. I leaned against a wall to catch my breath. Part of me felt like crying, and part of me felt like descending into a heap of hysterical laughter. Of all the stupid things I could Purge, it had to be a hive of giddy critters with the collective maturity of a five-year-old.
My head whipped around as I saw a flash of color down the corridor—one of the creatures, hovering in front of a doorway, twisting the door handle in its pesky hands. It swung the door open and disappeared inside. Oh no, you don’t! I bolted down the hallway, only to skid to a halt in front of a low-swinging sign that read “Scholar’s Quarters.”
Whatever blood I had left in my face must’ve drained away at that moment. No wonder the corridors hadn’t seemed familiar—we weren’t allowed in this part of the Institute, and now a little monster had just gone inside one of the scholar’s rooms. Which one, I had no idea. It wasn’t very late, so I hoped the scholars wouldn’t be in their rooms yet.
Steeling myself to enter, I just hoped I could get in, get the monster, and get out before anyone found out I’d been snooping around these parts.
Please don’t wreck anything before I can get my mitts on you. Sending up my plea, I tiptoed inside the room the creature had fluttered into. Darkness shrouded what looked like an apartment, lit by a solitary lamp which had probably been left on so the owner wouldn’t return to pitch blackness. I froze, listening for any sounds that suggested someone was home. Silence echoed back, and I edged further into the apartment, only for my eyes to snap toward the kitchen. The sound of clinking bottles came from behind a jutting island. My heart pounded as I crept around the back edge of the island and peered behind it. Silhouetted in the glow of the fridge, one of the naughty critters—female, I guessed—struggled with a bottle of milk. And she was about two seconds from upending the whole thing.
Lunging forward, I dove for the flitting beastie. With more light to see by, I might’ve noticed the rug in the middle of the kitchen floor. Unfortunately, tonight wasn’t going my way. My foot caught on the edge of it and I tumbled downward, faceplanting on the cold stone floor with a thud. A groaning wheeze puffed out of my lips like a sad balloon, and the creature, who’d no doubt witnessed my fall, began to laugh. To add insult to injury, she mimicked the sound, doing it over and over again until I managed to jump back up. Seeing me on my feet, she gave a shriek that sounded a lot like a curse word.
“Come here!” I muttered, swiping at the fridge. The creature darted upward, and a pack of cheese and a trio of yogurts took the hit intended for it. The yogurts toppled onto the floor, a spurt of strawberry goo splashing out from under the lid.
So much for not
