But Morganna didn’t even bat an eye.
“Oh, yes—by all means, let’s involve the Headmistress,” she said sweetly. “And while we’re at it, let’s tell her how you physically altered a human male with your magic outside school grounds!”
“I…what?” At first I didn’t know what she was talking about—then I remembered Mr. Groperson and the state I had left him in. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but still…
“Oh, now she understands,” Morganna cooed, seeing the look of recognition on my face. “That’s right, you nasty little wanna-be Fae—you breathe a word of anything I’ve done—or that I’m going to do for that matter—to Headmistress Nightworthy, and I’ll let her know what you’ve been up to off campus.” She grinned nastily at me. “Then we’ll see who gets expelled!”
And with a nasty smirk, she turned and flounced back into the Biology room, her long, perfect, honey-blonde hair waving behind her.
I exchanged a look with Bran and Lachlan.
“What are we going to do?” I asked them. “What I did to Mr. Groperson will get me expelled for sure if she tells Headmistress Nightworthy!”
“We can’t let her hold that over your head, Emma,” Bran said, frowning. “Sending poisonous spiders into someone’s bed at night must be an expulsion offense too!”
“Yes, but all that means is that both of them could get the other expelled,” Lachlan pointed out. And I don’t think Morganna would care if she got kicked out—she’d probably be happy to get back to the Summer Court.”
“Whereas if I get expelled, I’ll have to leave you guys and my Coven-mates and go back to Frostproof High,” I said dully. Frostproof High was the other high school in town—the human high school—and it wasn’t exactly a pinnacle of academic achievement.
“If that happened, Lachlan and I would come with you,” Bran said loyally.
“Yes, we would,” Lachlan promised.
I sighed. “Thanks, guys, but I don’t think any of us would be happy there. Plus, I don’t want to leave the rest of my coven! Megan and Avery and Kaitlyn are like my family. I just can’t leave them!” Not to mention Griffin and Ari and Jalli, all of whom I was also extremely fond of.
“If Morganna feels that you have more to lose than she does, she will become merciless,” Lachlan said darkly. “We can’t let her think that.”
“Then what do we do?” I asked. “She’s clearly not going to stop.”
“We fight fire with fire—or in this case, magic with magic,” Lachlan said, looking grim.
“But I thought you didn’t want to start a war with her?” I asked, frowning.
“Retaliating isn’t starting a war,” he said. “Whatever magic she sends our way, we will send it right back.”
“Just like we sent the skink back,” Bran said, nodding.
“She has to feel it isn’t worth her while to torment you, little one,” Lachlan said, frowning. “After dealing with her own nasty spells after a while, she’ll get the message.”
“Yes, but how long will that take?” I asked, frowning.
Lachlan shrugged. “As long as it takes. Get ready, Emma—I have a feeling you’ll be practicing those new magic skills I taught you a lot.”
66
Lachlan was right. That very night, the Norm Dorm experienced an infestation of mice. We had never seen a single rodent before—which was pretty remarkable, considering we lived in a centuries old castle—but now suddenly they were everywhere, squeaking and sniffing and scratching and poking their little grey noses into whatever food they could find.
“They’ve ransacked my Second Supper Snack cupboard!” Avery complained, after opening the secret cupboard only to find a rodent infestation where he kept his cooking ingredients.
“I’m sorry, Avery! I—oh!” I gasped, jumping up from my spot on the couch as a mouse ran over the toe of my slipper.
“This is ridiculous!” Megan complained. “I mean, they’re not as bad as roaches or spiders but I still don’t want mice running across my pillow tonight!”
“Emma will take care of it,” Lachlan promised. He turned to me. “We know this spell is aimed at you, little one. Turn it back around on Morganna.”
I frowned thoughtfully.
“Actually, I think I have a better idea…”
We got rid of the mice—humanely, I might add, by sending them into the fields and grounds surrounding the castle. But I wanted to wait before I sent the spell back. I spent some time modifying it and the next day at breakfast, we were able to see the results.
Morganna was sitting at the Fae table eating her breakfast, when a big, orange-striped tabby cat came curling around her legs.
“Eww! Whose is that?” she demanded, trying to kick the cat away. The cat, undeterred, dodged her dainty shoe and came back to curl around her other side instead.
Morganna kicked at it again, succeeding in driving it a little distance away from her. But just then two more cats came purring around her ankles. And then four more and then eight more after that.
“Very nice, Emma,” Bran remarked, as we watched the show from our table near the end of the Dining Hall. “I see you’ve upped the stakes, somewhat.”
“And you’ve implemented Morganna’s own doubling spell.” Lachlan nodded proudly. “Well done, little one.”
“Why did you choose cats instead of rats?” Megan asked. “Cats are so nice and sweet and purry—I would think rats would be worse.”
“Ah-choo! Ah-choo!” Morganna sneezed. She jumped up from the table, scratching at her perfect porcelain skin which was now covered with red blotches. “Get away from me! Get away, you awful things!” Her nose looked like a swollen tomato and her eyes were little slits in her no-longer gorgeous face.
“That’s why,” I said, as she fled the Dining Hall, being purrrsued (sorry, had to do it) by no less than thirty-two mewing cats intent on shedding all over her. “I heard Morganna tell another Fae girl once that she hated human animals—especially cats—because they made her itch and sneeze.”
“Maybe she’ll think twice about sending animals after you, now,” Bran remarked, grinning.
But he was wrong.
67
The very next day after school, Megan and I walked down to her aunt’s house to visit my mom and her aunt. Mom and Aunt Deli had been getting along like a house on fire—as the Southern expression goes—and really enjoying each other’s company.
We had a great visit, including some delicious organic veggie stew made by Aunt Deli and—to my surprise—some homemade biscuits made by my mom. Apparently, she’d been quite a baker when she was younger—before she started smoking all the time. Now that she was cured of her addiction, her sense of taste and smell were coming back to normal and, encouraged by Megan’s aunt, she had started baking again.
“Oh, biscuits aren’t hard,” she exclaimed, blushing, when Megan and I praised the light, fluffy biscuits extravagantly.