I’m a few seconds away from being caught in Ferria’s room, and it is so not going to end well. I’m left with two completely sucky choices. Either let her find me in here, or make the jump, risking being seen by others and getting hurt.

Somehow, a broken leg and a few witnesses sounds like a better bet. After all, there’s always Fae magic to heal any sustained wounds.

Still, I’ve broken bones before. I really don’t want to repeat that experience.

Maybe there’s another way. I can try distracting her.

Heart pounding, I spot a tree nearby. Summoning my fire, I send a blast straight toward it. I don’t stick around long enough to see if it hit its target. Racing across the room, I stand right next to the door. When it swings open, I’m now standing behind it.

Please don’t close the door! Please don’t close the door!

“Hey, Ferria,” I hear someone say. “Did you get my note?”

“I did, but I lost it,” she says. “What did it say?”

“No wonder you missed the meeting,” the other voice says. “We need to start practicing much harder if we want to be the chess champions.”

Chess?

“I know,” Ferria says. “Those other players are just so good, though. Maybe we can learn from them.”

“Anyone in our way is an enemy!” the other girl interjects. “We need to take them down.”

Ferria laughs. “Chill, girl. Your competitive nature is going to get you k—”

“Fire,” someone yells. “Fire in the quad!”

“Oh, jeez,” Ferria says and runs out of the room, leaving her door wide open.

There are a few more yells and a scream. The running of feet as people leave the dorm to see what is happening. I wait a minute for things to clear before I attempt to make my escape. I don’t want anyone to see me leaving her room.

I dart from behind the door to the other side, risking a peek into the hallway. Relief fills me at the sight of the empty hall, and I book it up to my own room as if my own tail was on fire. When I get there, Dannika is looking out the window.

“Imogen,” she calls when she sees me. “Where have you been? Have you see the fire?”

“What’s going on?” I ask, as if I don’t know. I walk over, peering outside. The whole tree is engulfed, and people are working to put it out. There are many wee Fae folk gathered around, looking distraught. Some of the Fae who can use water or wind to fly are zipping around the tree, rescuing the wee folk who are trapped in the upper branches.

“So tragic,” Dannika says. “I hope everyone got out. That tree is hundreds of years old. Some of the wee folk have been living there for generations.”

Like a zombie, I shuffle to my bed and sink down, putting my head in my hands. I’m going to cry or throw up. Either way, I feel sick and disgusted with myself. I just destroyed that tree, along with the homes of countless creatures to save my own ass for breaking into someone else’s room.

Chess enemies! Who calls a chess opponent an enemy? What a drama queen!

No, I can’t blame my stupidity on her. I read way too much into that note, I had no business breaking into Ferria’s room. I messed up. Bad. Again.

“What’s wrong?” Dannika asks, coming to my side. “You aren’t sick, are you?” She puts her hand to my forehead when I glance up, but I bat her away.

“I’m fine,” I snap. “What are you, den mother?”

“Sorry…” She’s taken aback by my tone, but chooses to ignore it. “I’m just a little on edge. Another student fell sick today in class.”

“Who?” I ask.

“Finch,” she replies.

“Finch?” I ask. “Finch Ashfire?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Why?”

“But Finch is Unseelie,” I say.

“Yeah, but why does that matter?” she asks.

“All the other students who were poisoned were Seelie,” I point out. “Or, who I thought were poisoned. The other students who were ill.”

“Oh right,” she says. “That is the angle you were pursuing.”

“Then what’s the connection?” I’m frustrated, starting to feel hopeless. “What do all the students have in common if it isn’t their court?”

Dannika shrugs. “They all go to school here.”

My entire world is falling apart. No, that’s not even right. The Fae realm isn’t my world. It’s my father’s world. I’m just visiting it. Visiting it and ruining people’s lives in the process.

Dannika stands back up, once again studying the fire. “Whoever was attacking Ohdows has certainly ramped things up.”

My face goes hot. “You think whoever set the tree on fire is the person behind the attacks on Ohdows?”

“Why else would someone set a huge fire like that?” she asks. “We should talk to Erick about it.”

Great, now when the person who did attack Ohdows is caught, they will get blamed for burning the tree down, too. That’s another person who will have to pay for my mistakes. Although, if anyone deserves it, they do.

I lean back on my pillow. I was wrong. After everything, I was wrong. It’s not an Unseelie poisoning the Seelie students. I was rude to Lord Ralnor, I physically attacked Ferria and broke into her room, and jeopardized my relationship with Caleb, and all of it was for nothing. It had been a coincidence they were all Seelie.

What if they have nothing in common at all? What if it’s totally random? Some serial killers work like that, right? Which is why it can take the police so long to track them down, if they catch them at all. If there is no pattern, no method to the madness, they can evade detection for years. I read once there might even be more serial killers in the world than we realize because the killers don’t always follow a pattern. A strangulation in Albuquerque might seem unrelated to a stabbing in Salt Lake City, so the murderer is never found.

Wow, my mind just went some place really dark. No one has died. Not yet, anyway. But Nurse Oshae said the students who were poisoned will eventually die if she doesn’t find a cure. I wonder if she has made any progress.

“Come on,” Dannika says with a pat on my leg. “We need to get to Elemental Application.”

I’ll have to check in with Nurse Oshae later.

* * *

“Today, class,” Coach Thorne says, “we are going to try training with real swords.”

A round of oohs and ahhs comes from the class as Erick wheels the swords out of a closet.

“I know many of you might feel like you aren’t ready for this,” the coach goes on. His look pans the group, but passes over me, as if he’s trying not to make me feel like I’m exactly the person he was talking about. “But you don’t have to practice with another person. Just hold one. Swing it around a bit. Get a feel for it. Feel the weight of the weapon in your hand.”

We crowd around, each choosing a sword. Erick doesn’t even make eye contact with me when he hands me one. That’s fine. Whatever.

I grab the sword, and I stumble a little under its weight. Damn. I was not expecting that. It’s as if I’m holding a thick iron rod. Except that Fae can’t touch iron.

Maybe that’s plus one for halflings. I’d never had a problem touching iron before in the human realm. Being half-human had its perks, though none that I’d be able to cash in on here.

“What are the swords made of?” I ask the coach.

“Mainly steel,” he says. “But you can use materials such as silver or bronze, even copper. Katanas are made from an iron sand, but we can’t use that. Obsidian can make a beautiful and functional sword. Jade or other gems can be used to make shorter weapons such as daggers.”

I move away from the group, where I am sure I won’t hurt anyone, and swing the sword. Just working with this would help build muscles in my arms. It is almost painful to try to wield it, but I feel powerful as I swing it left and right. It would take a lot of work, a lot of practice, but I think I would like to learn more about sword fighting.

“Want to try sparring?” Ferria asks, sauntering up to me.

“Nope,” I say. “I’m good.”

“Are you sure about that?” She holds up her sword and takes a step closer to me.

“I’m sure, Ferria,” I say. “I’m not ready to fight another person.”

“You sure were quick to fight me not very long ago,” she says haughtily. “What’s changed?”

“Well, Caleb is my boyfriend now, so I don’t need to fight you for him,” I return, shooting off my big mouth. Again. I shouldn’t have said anything, but it just slipped out.

She quickly steps forward, and slashes at my sword.

“Hey,” I exclaim. “Back off! I don’t want to fight you.”

“Pick it up!” she says, motioning toward my sword, which I am just holding down in front of me.

“I won’t fight you,” I try again.

“Pick it up,” she yells again, stepping toward me and raising her weapon. She slices at me, her eyes cold.

Instinctively, I raise the sword in self-defense, but she manages to leave a nasty cut on my forearm. I wince at the pain, but refuse to let a groan pass my lips. I won’t give her the satisfaction. I might have been wrong about her being involved in the students getting sick, but I wasn’t wrong about her being a bitch. That’s very obvious.

As our swords clang together, sending reverberations through my body, I step back.

“That’s enough, Ferria,” I say, trying to remain calm. “You’ve made your point.”

“I don’t think I have,” she says.

She stomps toward me, slashing left and right. Each time, I raise the sword to deflect. She thrusts to the right, and I dodge to the left.

“Fight me,” she growls as she feints left and then parries right.

“Not on your terms.” I huff as I catch her sword with my own before pushing her back. She wasn’t expecting it—neither was I—and she falls on her butt. I run up, and aim my sword at her.

“Do you yield?” I ask.

She looks at me wide-eyed, as if she is scared all of a sudden.

“Help! Help,” she screams.

I lower my sword, taking a step back in surprise.

“Imogen!” Coach Thorne calls as he runs toward us. “What is the meaning of this?”

“She was going to kill me,” Ferria wails.

The other students notice the commotion, leaving what they were doing to surround us.

“Imogen? Are you crazy?” Erick asks, his shock evident.

“She attacked me,” I say. “I was just defending myself!”

Of course, that’s not how it looks. That’s when I realize this was Ferria’s plan all along. Manipulative bitch.

“You’re bleeding,” Dannika says, and runs to my side.

I had almost forgotten about that, but now that she mentions it, I can feel pain shooting up my arm. I look down and see blood dripping from the wound. It goes down my hand and pools on the ground. I start to get a little lightheaded, so I try not to concentrate on it.

“This looks bad, Coach,” Dannika says as she pulls a towel out of her waistband and holds it to my arm.

“I’m not lying,” I insist. “She attacked me when I wouldn’t agree to fight her.”

Ferria gets up from the ground, and stands at Coach Thorne’s side. “That’s not true, Coach,” she says, playing the damsel card. “You know she has it out for me.”

“That’s enough,” he says. “Both of you. Ferria, I’ll see you in my office. Dannika, please help Imogen to the nurse’s station.”

I drop the sword to the ground, and Dannika keeps the cloth on my arm as we exit the field.

“What happened?” Dannika asks as soon as we are off the field.

“She’s just crazy,” I say, shaking my head. “She came at me with that sword, and insisted I fight her.”

“Does she know about you and Caleb?”

I blush, looking away shamefully. “Well, if she didn’t before, she does now.”

“You told her? While she was holding a sword on you?”

“Yeah, not my brightest moment,” I say.

“You are either the bravest woman I know or the dumbest.”

“I am a woman of many talents,” I say, and we both manage a small laugh.

When we get to the nurse’s office, I notice that I can’t see through the windows. Must be some kind of spell blocking vision inside, but why?

We step inside, where Nurse Oshae seems to be running herself ragged. The infirmary is packed. Every bed is home to a sick student. They seem to be arranged from those who have been sick the longest in the back to the most recent in the front. It’s hard to see the students in the rear, but I can see some of the symptoms I heard her talking about that night in the hallway. Their arms and legs are turning into tree trunks, hanging off the beds and anchoring them to the floor. Mushrooms and lichen are popping up on them, and their skin is turning every shade of brown.

“We are all out of beds,” Nurse Oshae says as she approaches us, waving us away. “You’ll have to rest in your room. There isn’t much we can do for you anyway.”

“No,” I say. “It’s my arm. I got a nasty cut.”

She sighs. “Oh, thank goodness.”

At our quizzical expressions, she heaves out a forced chuckle. “Sorry, dear, I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I’m just glad you aren’t sick. Let me see.”

I hold up my arm, and Dannika removes the cloth.

“Oh my,” she says, followed by a tutting of her tongue. “This might leave a nasty scar, even magically healed.”

“That’s okay.” I try to grin. “Dudes dig scars.”

“Well, they probably won’t dig a nasty infection. Let me get my supplies. Come sit over here.”

She leads me to a chair between two of the sick students.

“Dannika,” she says. “Why don’t you toss that cloth, and then get some fresh ones from the linen closet over there?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dannika says.

She and Nurse Oshae disappear to get their supplies, while I look at the other newly sick students. They aren’t very far along in the illness, but both are showing signs. The girl on my right has mushrooms popping out along her neck like warts, while the boy on my left has hair that’s turning green like moss.

“Hi,” I say. “How are you feeling?”

“Just tired,” the girl whispers. “Like I could sleep forever.”

You just might, I decide not to say.

“I’m so thirsty,” the boy moans. “Like I just can’t get enough to drink.”

I glance around to see if there is a cup of water anywhere.

“No,” he says hoarsely. “Don’t worry. Nurse Oshae says she thinks it makes the illness work faster.”

“Oh, I see,” I say, but I don’t. “Do you have any idea what the cause is?”

“Some sort of curse, I guess.” The boy shrugs, but it’s lackluster. He doesn’t seem to have even enough energy for that small gesture. “That’s what it feels like, anyway, but Nurse Oshae said we should stop saying that.”

All part of trying to keep the rest of the students from freaking out, I decide. Must be the same reason for the spell blocking out the windows that look inside. The sick aren’t leaving, so they can’t tell anyone, so it’s up to us who can walk out of here to not spread the word. I don’t exactly agree with Nurse Oshae’s decision, but I can’t see a way where telling everyone what’s going on would help. If I could get more information, though, maybe I could figure this out.

Or screw it up worse, which seems to be more in line with my current track record. But I’d regret it forever if I didn’t at least ask a few questions.

“But who would want to curse you?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I just came to the school and the Fae realm this year. I didn’t know anyone before I arrived.”

“I know the feeling,” I say. “Does Nurse Oshae have a lead on a cure?”

“Not that I know of,” the girl says. “But she says she is hopeful. She is working so hard, caring for us and researching, experimenting, trying to find something that will help.”

“Do either of you know if there is any connection between the sick students?” I ask, doubting they do, but knowing it can’t hurt to ask. “Any similarities or common enemy?”

They just shake their heads, and then go back to resting. They must be exhausted.

Nurse Oshae comes over with her supplies, and proceeds to work on my arm. “Luckily, it looks worse than it is. You don’t need stiches,” she says. “I can use this spongy moss to absorb the blood and seal the wound. It’s a traditional method.”

“That’s great,” I say. “Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here next to the sick students? It’s not catching, is it?”

“No.” She shakes her head, anger in her eyes. “It seems to be deliberate. Who gets sick, I mean. At least we’re making progress. In the beginning, I didn’t know what to think and was quarantining everyone, but if it was contagious, the whole school would have it.”

“That’s terrible,” I say.

She nods. “I know. But I’m doing all I can.”

“I am sure you are,” I say, placing my hand on her arm.

This seems to comfort her a little. She pauses before continuing to work on my wound.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask.

“Just keep your wits about you,” she says, finishing up the job. “I’d hate for you to be next.”