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I get up because I don’t need to answer, and turn in a circle in the middle of the four beasts. I’ll bring them back to human form.
And deliver them right back into Ophelia’s hands so she can use them for the final rituals.
She’s right, I’m stupid. But leaving them in this form isn’t any better, not for them. Caught between a rock and a hard place, that’s how all of us are. More so them. They’ve already been caught in the net. I could walk away if I wanted. Say this isn’t my battle, my war. My business.
But I can’t do that. That much is for sure. And I have an idea. Vague and barely forming but it’s something, and when you have nothing, anything will do.
They only have to shift back first.
Yeah, only that…
Meanwhile, a few teachers have arrived, demanding to see the beasts, not seeming convinced that these are, in fact, boys who have shifted.
“The fae don’t shift,” a shrill-voiced teacher is insisting. “Neither do vampires or demons! Don’t give me this bullshit.”
“Actually, they’re all known to have shifted in the past,” our History teacher says, “and—”
His voice is lost in the cacophony of four more teachers agreeing with the first and demanding to see the ‘animals’ and bring the security team in to kill them.
We have to hurry, I think but don’t know how to hurry a process I barely understand. Yes, Jason was probably right and they should have tried the shifting while they were still able to—but it’s tough. You don’t ask someone to undergo surgery just to get used to waking up from the anesthetic. There are risks involved. Pain. Complications.
I go from beast to beast, stroking their heads, talking to them, humming a melody. This may take hours. If it works.
Exhausted, I sit in the middle of them, wondering where Ophelia has gone, not a good sign at all—to be fair, nothing she does ever is—and close my eyes.
“Don’t reach for Ophelia,” Vanessa warns me. “Don’t reach for the boys who are behind a magical wall. Don’t summon anyone, now is not a good time for that.”
But I have to do something. And God, I miss them. Sometimes one has to take a risk.
If I lie down on the ground, I can touch them all at once, I think, and without a second thought, I do just that. It’s a ridiculous thing to do—stretching my arms up to touch Emrys and Ashton with my fingertips, then kicking my shoes and socks off to touch Sindri and Jason with my toes—but I don’t care. Let me be ridiculous.
Love is a ridiculous thing anyway. So ridiculous it’s magical all on its own.
The voices and the sounds around me fade. The angry teachers, held back by the vampires and the demons, the small crowd held back by the fae and the werewolves, the soughing of the wind in the branches of the trees and over the water of the lake, the small waves lapping at the shore.
I hear and I feel four heartbeats go through me, an uneven rhythm against my own heart. They are heavy, ponderous heartbeats, much slower than mine, those of great beasts. Compared to theirs, mine flutters like the heart of a hummingbird.
But as time passes, they speed up, matching mine. Synchronizing.
Matching the human rhythm.
Someone is shouting something, and there’s a crash, and a cry, and then more voices. I’m almost scared to open my eyes, see what is going on, but Percy’s voice finally breaks through my strange little trance:
“They’re back.”
