She’d gotten home an hour ago from a typical Winter dinner: Her mom had fawned over Mason. Her father had grilled him about his postgraduation plans and LSAT scores. Eugenie had bragged about her mountain of casework while asking pointed questions about Scarlett’s bid for president. And Mason had charmed them all, like he always did. He’d also apologized to Scarlett for their fight earlier and brought her a plumeria, like the one he’d given her from his lei the night they’d met.
It all should have felt fine, good even. But things still seemed . . . off. Even in a houseful of people who were supposed to love her the most in the world, she felt alone. Like she was the only one who noticed that the ground was shifting subtly beneath their feet. Then again, she always felt Minnie’s absence more deeply at home, where all the spaces she used to occupy were so conspicuously empty.
Just like Kappa House was tonight, which wasn’t helping her mood. Everyone was either off studying or out at the bars.
She sighed and opened her psychology notebook, then let out a sudden, sputtering laugh. Someone had drawn a stick figure in the margins and charmed it to dance. It almost looked like it was flossing. Scarlett smiled as she remembered all the nights she and Tiffany had spent choreographing ridiculous dance routines, routines Tiffany would sometimes bust out in in public just to cheer Scarlett up when she was having a bad day. Tiffany must have doodled this in her notebook earlier; she always seemed to know when Scarlett needed a boost. Scarlett would have given anything to have her best friend with her right then instead of sitting in this quiet house alone.
She looked out the window and saw one of the ravens from the aviary perched on a tree limb, still as a statue. The moon through the skylight was a waning gibbous, the best time for casting spells to change and improve yourself, Minnie always said. A moon for new beginnings.
Perhaps whether you wanted one or not.
Scarlett took the plumeria from behind her ear and placed it on the table in front of her. Later she would put it in her Kappa Book alongside the original one she had pressed two years ago. But this flower didn’t have the same effect as the first. The first was a promise of what was to come. Now she felt herself and Mason straining to remember that promise.
Voices and laughter sounded on the stairs, and a moment later, Dahlia, Mei, and Tiffany came into the library.
“Hey, girls,” Scarlett said, pasting a smile on her face. “Where have you been?”
“Ugh, Homecoming budget meeting,” Tiffany said with a roll of her eyes. Kappa was responsible for hosting the annual campus-wide event for current students and alumni. Every year the committee was amazed at how Kappa managed to come in under budget for décor. It was always a delicate dance of what they reported to the Greek council and what they hand-waved with magic.
“You should have heard Maria. She was trying to convince the council that Theta should take over Homecoming and Kappa should do the winter formal instead,” Mei said.
“Typical,” Scarlett said. Maria was the president of Theta, and Theta had been trying for years to compete with Kappa for top sorority. Like it even stood a chance. “Who even goes to the winter formal?”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Tiffany said, flopping down in the leather armchair next to Scarlett. You okay? Tiffany’s voice sounded in her head. You look upset.
Leave it to her best friend to see right through her. Scarlett tapped into her sister’s Swords magic to answer her: I’ll tell you about it later.
Tiffany nodded, giving Scarlett’s arm a light squeeze. “Can you even imagine what our moms would say if we lost Homecoming?” Tiffany said.
“They would die,” Dahlia said with a shake of her head.
Mei laughed, but Tiffany went silent, her eyes suddenly glassy. “Yeah, literally, in my mom’s case,” she said.
Dahlia went ashen. “Oh God, Tiffany. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean . . . I didn’t think—”
But before she could finish her thought, a crack rang out, almost like a pistol shot. It was followed by a loud popping sound and another crack.
“What the hell is that?” Tiffany said.
The girls looked at one another, confused. “Do you smell smoke?” Mei asked, wrinkling her nose.
“Ugh, if Sig Tau is setting off firecrackers again . . .” Scarlett pushed aside her textbook, stood up, and crossed over to the window, which looked out over the front yard and Greek Row. But it wasn’t fireworks at all.
Down on the lawn, someone had hammered four wooden stakes into the grass. Tied to each was a scarecrow wearing robes and a pointy witch’s hat.
And they were on fire.
For a second, all Scarlett could do was stare. Then she let out a shout and they all flew into action. She thundered down the stairs to the first floor and burst out into the muggy night, her sisters at her heels.
The scarecrows blazed, the flames leaping and dancing as they consumed the straw, the fabric of the robes melting and twisting. Up close, Scarlett had just enough time to see that the scarecrows had leering, overwide smiles drawn on in red marker. A moment later, their faces caved in, devoured by fire.
Scarlett flung her arms up and instinctively reached for her magic, summoning water to douse the flames.
“Scarlett, no!” Dahlia hissed.
That was when Scarlett realized that a small crowd had gathered. A couple of drunk brothers from Sigma Zeta Tau stood off to the side, mouths agape, beers in hand. A few girls from Beta Beta Beta in pajama shorts and flip-flops stood in a clump, whispering to one another. Two Thetas ran out of their house hand in hand, stricken looks on their faces.
“Bonfire!” one of the Sig Tau guys cheered, pumping his fist in the air.
“Are you okay?” a boy asked, hopping off his bike and rushing to their sides.
“Are those supposed to be . . . witches?” said a girl whom Scarlett recognized as the president of Gamma Theta Rho.
“Looks like someone’s taking Hell Week too far this year,” Scarlett said quickly as more students approached with concerned and curious expressions. Someone pulled out a phone as if to take a video.
“If another house did this to you, we should take it to the Panhellenic council. Hell, we should call 911,” one of the Tri Betas said, the orange flames reflecting in her dark eyes. She reached for her cell.
“We don’t want to get another house in trouble, even if they deserve it,” Scarlett said, trying to defuse the situation. She threw Dahlia a panicked look. Dahlia whispered something under her breath and Scarlett felt the telltale hum of magic. Immediately, the Tri Beta’s eyes glazed over, and the entire crowd became subdued. The Tri Beta turned on her heel and walked back to her house; the rest of the students scattered as well, returning to the bikes they’d let fall on the grass or wandering back into their houses.
“Holy shit,” Scarlett breathed shakily as soon as everyone had dispersed. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, she summoned her magic. Electricity crackled in her veins; her fingertips burned. She reached out, pushing wider and wider until it felt like every drop of water in the atmosphere was singing to her, caught in her expanding web. She knit the molecules together tighter and tighter and then, with a final burst, released them. Immediately a soaking rain began to fall. The flames hissed and sputtered before finally going out. Scarlett fell to her knees, spent.