She notices me looking and says, “I ordered my outfit from Barneys. Dressing like the Evermore is all the rage in Manhattan. We follow their seasons and everything, and winter fashion is my favorite.” I must be making a face because she adds, “I mean, it’s a bit overdone, in my opinion . . . but when in Everwilde . . .”

“Right.” I grin, her peppy mood contagious. “We don’t have a Barney’s in Amarillo.”

She laughs, a hearty sound that lifts my spirits. “You know, Dallas Cowboys, I think I’m going to like you. Depending on who chooses you at the Shadow Selection, maybe we can be bunk mates.”

“Shadow Selection?” Could there be a more ominous sounding name?

“Yeah,” Mack answers, sounding way less panicky than I feel. “The ceremony where basically our entire next four years are decided.” I must look confused because she adds, “Each Fae chooses a human shadow to train under them at school. I mean, we also fetch them things a lot and do trivial errands and stuff. Especially first year.”

Oh—that’s what the headmistress was talking about. The thought brings to mind cattle yards and auctioneers, but it also explains why the Evermore have drawn around our cage. They’re assessing us like bugs under a microscope. And most eyes seem to be on me.

Before I can question her further, the dais begins to move.

We’re sinking. Fast. Another round of panic lodges deep in my chest, and I clamp the iron bars of my cage, flexing my hands over the cool metal and spreading my legs for balance.

“Mack,” I call. “Which part of the ceremony is this?”

Her eyes go wide. “Did no one prepare you for this?” There’s incredulity in her voice, along with pity, an emotion I despise.

“I think you should just assume I know nothing.” The last few words come out two octaves higher as the floor lurches faster and faster into the ground. I barely have time to glimpse the Fae cheer, hooting and jeering, before the dais sinks into the earth.

Into the earth, for frack’s sake. This is totally how I die.

Mack sweeps a concerned look over me. “I don’t have time to explain all of it . . . you know how to swim, right?”

“Swim?” Dear Lord, my voice is squeaky. Why do I have to hate tight, enclosed spaces? ”Sure. Why?”

I used to love it, but swimming requires enormous amounts of calories . . .

“They’re dropping us into a river system below the academy. We have to make it to the lake of sorrows.” Of course it’s called the lake of sorrows. “We’re supposed to be scared of the selkies that live there, but my parents told me they secretly feed the selkies a huge meal right beforehand and then drug them with magic.”

Selkies . . . what are those again? My brain supplies endless images of mermaid creatures with rows of pointy teeth.

Killer mermaids. They’re throwing us into water with killer mermaids. “So they’re . . . harmless?”

“Supposedly.” She shrugs. “The biggest threat, of course, is drowning. There were two during my parents’ Selection.” She shrugs again, but the conditioned response is unable to hide the way her mouth puckers at the corners. “Other than making sure we don’t die, we just have to be one of the first fifty to arrive.”

This just keeps getting better. “What happens if we’re not?”

“We lose our spot in the academy.”

A spark of hope blossoms inside my chest. So there’s a way to get kicked out of this place? “Is that a . . . bad thing?”

Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “I still cannot get over how little you know about how this all works. Yes, that’s a bad thing. A very bad thing. Once we entered Everwilde, we belong to them. Any human who loses their spot at Evermore Academy goes to work as a slave in the Unseelie Courts, or worse . . . fighting the darklings in the scourge.”

An image of those poor souls trudging mindlessly behind Magus flashes in my mind, and newfound fear pierces my core. I cannot let that happen. God only knows what life in the Unseelie Courts would be like.

And the scourge . . .

My hands clench the bars as we’re plunged lower. The Fae students peer down at us. Inara’s face is gleeful as she calls out, “Watch out for the hungry selkies, little humans.” Her cruel gaze flicks to me. “I hear they eat the ugly mortals first.”

I can’t quite catch my breath. I should have expected something like this in the beginning—the Fae are vicious jerks—but still, I’m caught off guard, and I hate the feeling.

Someone is crying—a tall girl with lavender -dyed hair wrangled into a tight knot. In between sobs she blurts out that she can’t swim.

“We should help her,” I say, but Mack puts a hand on my arm and shakes her head.

“No. She’s already panicking. In the water she’ll drown anyone who tries.”

I feel sick. This isn’t right. But I don’t have time to come up with a plan. In a few moments, we’ll have to swim.

Swim . . . with shoes. I lose my scarf and sweatshirt, pocket my mittens, then I bend down and rip my boots off. Mack catches on immediately and does the same, wincing as she has to get rid of her expensive Jimmy Choo’s.

Together we chuck our stuff through the cage bars. Mine barely miss a blond Fae boy’s head before disappearing above.

I’ll have to come back for those later.

The others follow our lead and shoes fly through the air, a few missing the dwindling ledge above and raining back down on us.

A giant greenish-yellow orb hangs from the top of the cage, illuminating tiny streams of water rivering down dirt walls as we’re dragged deep into the earth. The circle of light from above grows smaller and smaller, the faces of the Fae watching us becoming nondescript.

The others inside the cage are starting to group into packs of three to four.

“Here’s the deal,” Mack says, turning me to face her. “There are seven tunnels leading out from here to the lake, each with magical reeds placed along their length to let us breathe. But there aren’t enough of the breathing devices for all of us.”

A mixture of anger and fear roils my gut. “Why would they do that? Give us less than we need?”

“Because they’re the Evermore, and we’re their entertainment. The sooner you get used to that fact, the better.”

My jaw locks as anger pours through me. I’ll never get used to that idea. Never.

The trembling beneath my feet stills as the floor stops moving. Water begins to fill the space, lapping at my socks. It’s surprisingly warm. The stagnant odor fills my nose and turns my stomach.

“So how do we make sure we get a breathing device?” I ask, my eyes glued to the brackish water now swirling around my calves. Now my knees . . . my thighs . . .

The cavern is filling fast.

“Swim like hell?” She gives a nervous laugh. “Everyone knows the shortest route is that tunnel”—she nods to her left—“so we just need to be the first ones inside.”

Already, a crowd blocks that door, waiting to be first. Frowning, I scan our surroundings. A small cavern hardly larger than our cage greets me. I can just barely make out the tops of the tunnels. They must be low to the ground because they’re already underwater. Golden light flickers from each entrance, brightening the water enough to highlight its clarity.

At least there’s light to guide us. It could be worse.

Silver linings and all.

“Which one is the longest tunnel?” I ask.

She raises an eyebrow and nods behind me. “The one directly at your back. But no one takes that one . . .”

“And you’re a good swimmer?” I ask as water reaches my armpits. My long hair swirls around my body, and I regret not pulling it up out of my face before we came.

She winks. “State champion two years running.”

For some reason, that’s not surprising. I grin. “Good, then let’s take the long tunnel.”

Her eyes narrow as she works out my thinking. “It won’t be crowded . . . so we won’t have to fight for oxygen reeds.”

“Exactly. And we’re both excellent swimmers, so the extra distance won’t make that much difference.”

Her eyes light up. “Genius.”

We wade together to the door nearest the unpopular tunnel. Just as I suspected, we’re the only ones. Although I also suspect everyone is avoiding me.

When the water reaches so high I can’t touch the bottom, the cage doors spring open and swing out, and everyone surges through the doors to a tunnel.

Go time.

I dive for the door—

But right before I slip out, the pretty girl who laughed at me earlier slams into the door from the outside, the clang of metal on metal loud inside the chamber. She sneers at me. “Your kind doesn’t belong here.”

Aw hell no.

I lunge for another door but two other boys are working with her and they’ve locked them. All of them.

Murder. I would murder them with my bare hands if I could get out.

“Good luck with that, Trailer Park!” the girl calls out before diving under the water.

14

I’m so screwed. I grab the handle to the closest door just as Mack’s head pops up from the water.

“What are you waiting—” Her eyes go huge as she takes in the doors. “They’re all locked?”

I nod, gritting my teeth to keep from freaking out.

“Did Reina do this? That bitch! I’ll kill her.”

“It’s okay,” I lie, shoving with all my might on the iron door. “Go without me.”

“No,” she says immediately, although her voice wavers, and her gaze keeps flicking to the tunnel.

“Go!” I insist, sagging against the door, which is now completely under water. My mind spins wildly, my heart smashing against my ribcage as I do the same, throwing myself at the iron bars.

I’m trapped. I’m trapped. I’m trapped. The words swirl around my skull, a mantra of panic. This is my worst nightmare. Trapped in a cage. A cage that’s slowly filling with water.