She shuddered, tilting her head back. The golden haze of potent energy thrummed in her blood. How would she know whether she’d taken the power yet?
The girl convulsed, and a high-pitched, pained whine burst from her throat. Harriet held on tight, desperately trying to chew down more energy.
She had only meant to take her power, but now her mind was blissfully blank. Even as it poured into her in an endless gust, it wasn’t enough to sate her. The Shell’s chest collapsed in on itself, a wormhole of swirling atoms that disintegrated under Harriet’s touch. A grating noise of pain was still coming from the girl’s mouth.
Harriet tore at her neck to get more energy. It pulsed under her skin, starting to burn now, like the shocking heat of a hot bath when you first step into the water. Her nerves were on fire, but she kept going. She couldn’t stop.
Around them, the other Shells wailed in a chorus of mournful commiseration. Harriet shook their fingers off her shoulders. The Shell was almost gone, and she couldn’t stop until she’d gathered every last drop.
Too quickly, it was over. The Shell disintegrated, her atoms spreading through the air. Harriet’s arms were empty. The girl with the curly hair, a long-forgotten student of Mulcture Hall, was nothing more than a memory and a boost in Harriet’s cells.
She threw the other Shells across the room, with a strength she’d never imagined possible. Her skin was bursting, like it would split under the swollen richness of the energy.
Harriet stumbled across the wrecked room to the window, gasping down cold, fresh air. The buzzing feeling inside her had changed from thrilling to frightening. She fell to the ground, wishing she’d asked Rufus and Vini how to control the energy before it fried her flesh.
Curled in a shivering ball on the floor, Harriet braced herself against the painful burn. She was going to disintegrate. She couldn’t possibly survive this. What had she done?
This is what the Tricksters do. They lend you enough rope to hang yourself, and then charge interest on it. Harriet thinks she’s forging her own path, but these moments have been planned for a long time. Nothing can be done to stop this now.
My father used to say that you have to find what people fear the most and focus your attention there, even if there are easier, weaker links. He said that it’s worth spending the time trying to break people open in a way that will last. Then you only have to do it once. He planned everything he did meticulously, and then made it look like it was all a spur-of-the-moment decision. People would carry on underestimating him, that way.
Harriet isn’t at that level yet. She’s trying, but she lacks experience.
The Tricksters clearly had their reasons for telling Harriet how to take a power. I’m not even sure they gained anything from this chaos, except for the visceral satisfaction that comes from knowing you’re responsible for another person’s destruction.
I’ve known Rufus for a long time, and he’s always been this way – just like his brother. If other people are unhappy, then he’s satisfied. By the end of all this, he’s going to have made Harriet truly miserable.
Chapter 9
HARRIET
When Harriet opened her eyes, days or hours or minutes later, the sky was dark. Her entire body ached, like her flesh had been attacked with a meat tenderizer.
She tried to move her arms, but a searing, scalding pain ran down her muscles. She wanted to sleep for three months. This must be what being electrocuted felt like. Being electrocuted whilst running a full marathon. Dehydrated. Post-surgery. Her mouth tasted of chemicals. She fell back into a deep sleep.
When she woke up a second time, the pain had gone. This time, she felt … fantastic. Better than fantastic – invulnerable. The thrilling feeling had come back once more. Harriet let out a giddy, overjoyed laugh; shouting it into the night sky.
She had done it! She had absorbed a Shell’s energy!
She had done it.
The Shell had disintegrated, which was disappointing. She’d expected to be able to pull the Shell’s power free, leaving the girl to drift aimlessly around the fifth floor like before. Instead, the Shell had dissolved into nothing.
But … they were brain-dead anyway, weren’t they? It was euthanization, really. If she gained a new power from it, then it had to be a worthwhile sacrifice. Anything to get home.
The Shell had tasted so good, too. Better than anything she’d eaten when she was alive. Nicer, even, than that first rat spirit. Harriet had always struggled with food. Her gran had never been a good cook – leaving meat slightly raw and drowning food in bizarre sauces and gravies that she’d invented. She’d just said Harriet had a sensitive stomach and certain things made her feel woozy, but Harriet had never managed to pin down what exactly she was allergic to. The Shell’s energy had been a revelation.
Closing her eyes, she tested her control to see if she had gained a power. Nothing was different, but then, her body was still exhausted. Meanwhile, her mind was racing.
In the distance, the university tower’s clock struck eleven. Somehow, she had found her way onto the remains of the concrete-clad rooftop, alone under the stars. It was peaceful, with only the sound of the wind blowing through the rotting rafters.
She was supposed to be meeting Kasper for their date at the Halloween party soon. A party suddenly seemed like the best idea ever. She needed to do something with this high of victory and energy and adrenaline. She had never felt this good.
KASPER
Kasper felt light enough to float up to the ceiling. He was actually going out with Harriet on a legit date. Squinting into his cracked bathroom mirror, he readjusted his fringe so
