Beautiful Chaos

Jeopardy

It was getting late when I finally made it home. Lucille was waiting on the front porch, her head tilted to the side as if she was waiting to see what I was going to do. When I opened the door and headed down the hall toward Amma’s room, I finally knew. I wasn’t ready to confront her, but I needed her help. John Breed’s Eighteenth Moon was too big for me to face on my own, and if anyone would know what to do, it was Amma.

Her bedroom door was closed, but I could hear her rummaging around in there. She was muttering, too, but her voice was too soft for me to make out anything she was saying.

I knocked on the door lightly, my head pressed against the cool wood.

Please let her be okay. Just tonight.

She opened the door far enough for her to peek through the crack. She was still wearing her apron, and she held a threaded needle in one hand. I looked past her into the dim light of her bedroom. Her bed was covered with scrap material, spools of thread, and herbs. She was making her dolls, no doubt. But something was off. It was the smell—that awful combination of gasoline and licorice I remembered from the bokor’s shop.

“Amma, what’s going on?”

“Nothin’ you need to worry about. Why don’t you get on upstairs and do some a your schoolwork?” She didn’t look me in the eye, and she didn’t ask where I’d been.

“What’s that smell?” I searched the room, looking for the source. There was a thick black candle on her dresser. It looked exactly like the one the bokor had been burning. There were tiny hand-sewn bundles piled up around it. “What are you making in there?”

She was flustered for a second, but then she pulled herself together and shut her door behind her. “Charms, same as I always do. Now you get on upstairs and worry about what’s goin’ on in that mess you call a room.”

Amma had never burned what smelled like toxic chemicals in our house before, not when she was making her dolls or any kind of charms. But I couldn’t tell her I knew where that candle had come from. She would skin me alive if she knew I’d been in that bokor’s shop, and I needed to believe there was a reason for all this—one I just didn’t understand. Because Amma was the closest thing I had to a mother, and like my mother, she had always protected me.

Still, I wanted her to know I was paying attention—that I knew something was wrong. “Since when do you burn candles that smell like they belong in a science lab when you make your dolls? Horsehair and—”

My mind was completely blank.

I couldn’t remember what else she stuffed inside those dolls—what was inside the jars that lined her shelves. Horsehair, I could picture that jar. But what were in the other ones?

Amma was watching me. I didn’t want her to realize that I couldn’t remember. “Forget it. If you don’t want to tell me what you’re really doing in there, fine.”

I stormed down the hall and out the front door. I leaned against one of the porch beams, listening to the sound of the lubbers eating away at our town—the way something was eating away at my mind.

Out on my front porch, the growing dark was equal parts warm and sad. Through the open window, I could hear pans clattering, floorboards complaining as Amma beat the kitchen into submission. She must have given up on the charms for tonight. The familiar rhythm of her sounds didn’t cheer me up like it usually did, though. It made me feel guiltier, which made my heart pound harder, which made me pace faster, until the floorboards on the porch were groaning almost as loud as the ones in the kitchen.

On either side of the wall, we were both full of secrets and lies.

I wondered if the worn wooden floor in Wate’s Landing was the only place in Gatlin that knew all the skeletons in my family’s closet. I’d ask Aunt Del to take a look, if her powers ever started working again.

It was dark now, and I needed to talk to someone. Amma wasn’t an option anymore. I pressed number three on my speed dial. I didn’t want to admit that I couldn’t remember the number I’d called a hundred times.

I was forgetting things all the time now, and I didn’t know why. But I knew it wasn’t good.

I heard someone pick up. “Aunt Marian?”

“Ethan? Are you all right?” She sounded surprised to hear my voice on the other end of the line.

I’m not all right. I’m scared and confused. And I’m pretty sure none of us are going to be all right.

I forced the words out of my head, lowering my voice. “Yeah. I’m fine. How are you holding up?”

She sounded tired. “You know, Ethan, your mom would be proud of this town. I’ve had more people come in and volunteer to help rebuild the library than ever came in the whole time it was standing.”

“Yeah, well. I guess that’s the thing about burning books. It all depends on who burns them.”

Her voice lowered. “Any luck with the answer to that? Who burned them?” The way she said it, I could tell it was all she’d thought about—and this time, she knew Mrs. Lincoln wasn’t the culprit.

“That’s why I’m calling. Can you do me a favor?”

Can you make everything the way it used to be, when my biggest problem was getting stuck reading car magazines at the Stop & Steal with the guys?

“Anything.”

Anything that doesn’t get me involved in a way I can’t be. That’s what she meant.

“Can you meet me at Ravenwood? I need to talk to you and Macon—and everyone, I guess.”

Silence. The sound of Marian thinking. “About this?”

“Sort of.”

More silence. “Things aren’t good for me right now, EW. If the Council of the Far Keep thought I was violating the rules again—”

“You’re going to visit a friend at his house. That can’t be against the rules.” Could it? “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. It’s about more than the library, the heat—what’s happening in town. It’s about the Eighteenth Moon.”

Please. You and Amma are all I have, and she’s gone darker than she ever has. And I can’t talk to my mom. So it has to be you.

I knew the answer before she said a word. If there was one thing I loved about Marian, it was how she always heard what was being said, even if no one was saying it. “Give me a few minutes.”

I snapped my phone shut and tossed it onto the step next to me. Time for another call, no phone required. I stared up at the sky. The stars were starting to come out, the moon already waiting.

L? Are you there?

There was a long pause, and I could feel Lena slowly begin to relax her mind into mine until we were connected again.

I’m here, Ethan.

We need to figure this out. After what happened at County Care, we can’t waste any more time. Find your uncle. I already called Marian, and I’ll pick up Link on my way over.

What about Amma?

I wanted to tell her what happened tonight, but it hurt too much.

She’s in a bad place right now. Can you ask your gramma?

She’s not here. But Aunt Del is. And it will be hard to leave Ridley out.

That wasn’t going to help the situation, but if Link was coming, it was going to be impossible to keep her away.

You never know, we might get lucky. Maybe Rid will be too busy sticking pins in little cheerleader voodoo dolls.

Lena laughed, but I didn’t. I couldn’t imagine dolls that didn’t smell like the poison burning in Amma’s room. I felt a kiss on my cheek, even though I was alone on the porch.

On my way.

I didn’t bring up the name of the other person who would be there. Then again, neither did Lena.

Back inside, Aunt Grace and Aunt Mercy were watching Jeopardy!, which I hoped would be a good distraction, since Amma knew all the answers and pretended she didn’t. And the Sisters knew none and insisted they did.

“It sleeps for three years? Well, conchashima, Grace. I sure as sin know that one, and I ain’t tellin’ ya the answer.” Conchashima was Aunt Mercy’s made-up curse word, which she saved for occasions when she really wanted to irritate one of her sisters, since she refused to tell them what it meant. I was pretty sure she didn’t know either.

Aunt Grace sniffed. “Conchashima yourself, Mercy. What did all a Mercy’s husbands do when they were supposed ta be makin’ a livin’? That’s the answer they’re lookin’ for.”

“Now, Grace Ann, I think they’re really askin’ how long you slept through the sermon last Easter Sunday. Droolin’ under my good cabbage rose hat.”

“It said three years, not three hours. And if the good rev’rend didn’t like ta hear his own voice so much, maybe it’d be easier for the rest a us ta hear it. You know I can’t see anythin’ but feathers an’ flowers sittin’ behind Dot Jessup in that big old Easter bonnet, anyhow.”

“Snails.” They looked at Amma blankly. She untied her apron. “How long can a snail sleep? Three years. And how long are you girls going to make me wait to have my supper? And where on God’s green earth do you think you’re goin’, Ethan Wate?”

I froze at the door. There was no distracting Amma, ever.

True to form, Amma had no intention of letting me go out alone at night—not after Abraham and the fire at the library and Aunt Prue. She hauled me into the kitchen so fast you would’ve thought I’d sassed her.

“Don’t you think I don’t know when you’re full a blue mud.” She looked around the kitchen for the One-Eyed Menace, but I had beaten her to it and stuck it in the back pocket of my jeans. She didn’t have a pencil either, so she was unarmed.

I made my move. “Amma, it’s nothing. I told Lena I’d have dinner with her family.” I wished I could tell her the truth, but I couldn’t. Not until I figured out what she was doing with that bokor in New Orleans.

She cocked a hip and let me have it. “On pulled pork night? My own three-time blue-ribbon-winnin’ Carolina Gold, and you’re expectin’ me to believe that claptrap?” She sniffed and shook her head. “You’d settle for a peacock patty on a gold plate over my pulled pork?” Amma didn’t think much of Kitchen’s cooking, and she had a point.

“No. I just forgot.” It was the truth, even though she had mentioned dinner this morning.

“Hmm.” She didn’t believe me. Which was understandable, considering that on a normal night this would be my idea of heaven.

“D. I. S. S. E. M. B. L. I. N. G. Eleven across. As in, you’re up to somethin’, Ethan Wate, and it’s not dinner.”

She was up to something, too. But I didn’t have a crossword for that.

I leaned down and put my arms around her. “I love you, Amma. You know that?” It was true.

“Oh, I know plenty. I know you’re about as far from the truth as Wesley’s mamma is from a bottle a whiskey, Ethan Wate.” She pushed me off, but I’d gotten to her. Amma, standing in this sweltering kitchen, scolding me whether I deserved it or not and whether she meant it or not.

“You don’t have to worry about me. You know I’ll always come home.”

She softened for a moment, putting her hand on my face, shaking her head. “That peach you’re peddlin’ sure smells sweet, but I’m still not buyin’ it.”

“Be back by eleven.” I grabbed the car keys off the counter and gave her a peck on the cheek.

“Not a hair past ten or you’ll be givin’ Harlon James a bath tomorrow—and I mean all a them!” I backed out of the kitchen before she could stop me. And before she noticed I had taken the One-Eyed Menace with me.

“Check it out.” Link was hanging out the window of the Volvo, and the car started tilting in his direction. “Whoa.”

“Sit down.”

He flopped back down into his seat. “See those black ditches? It looks like someone set off napalm or shot a flamethrower all the way up the road, heading straight for Ravenwood. And then it stopped.”

Link was right. Even in the moonlight, I could see the deep grooves, at least four feet wide, on both sides of the dirt road. A few feet from the gates of Ravenwood, they disappeared.

Ravenwood was untouched, but the full scale of the attack on Lena’s house the night Abraham unleashed the Vexes must have been massive. She never said it was this bad, and I hadn’t asked. I was too worried about my own family, and my house, and my library. My town.

Now I was staring at the damage, and I hoped this was the worst of it. I pulled over to the side of the road, and we both got out. It was a given that pyrotechnics on this scale were worth a closer look.

Link squatted next to the black trail in front of the gate. “It’s thickest when you get up close to the house. Right before it disappears.”

I picked up a black branch, and it crumbled in my hand. “This isn’t what Aunt Prue’s house looked like. That was more like a tornado. This was some kind of fire, more like the library.”

“I don’t know, man. Maybe Vexes do different things to different—people, or whatever.”

“Casters are people.”

Link picked up another branch, inspecting it. “Yeah, yeah. We’re all people, right? All I know is, this thing is fried.”

“Do you think it was Sarafine? Fire is sort of her thing.” I hated to consider it, but it was possible. Sarafine wasn’t dead. She was out there somewhere.

“Yeah, she’s hot, all right.” He noticed me staring at him like he was nuts. “What? I can’t call it like I see it?”

“Sarafine’s the Queen of Darkness, dumbass.”

“Seen a movie lately? The Queen a Darkness is always totally hot. Third Degree Burns.” He wiped the ash from the crumbling branch off his hands. “Let’s get outta here. Somethin’ around here is givin’ me a headache. You hear that buzzin’ sound, like a whole bunch a chainsaws or somethin’?”

The Binding Casts. He could feel them now.

I nodded, and we started the car. The rusty, crooked gates opened into the shadows, as if they were expecting us.

You here, L?

I shoved my hands into my pockets and looked up at the great house. I could see the windows, the splintering wood shutters overgrown with ivy, as if Lena’s room hadn’t changed at all. I knew it was an illusion, and from where Lena stood in her bedroom she could see me through the glass walls.

I’m trying to get Reece to stay upstairs with Ryan, but she’s being as cooperative as usual.

Link was looking up at the portico to the window opposite Lena’s.

What happened with Ridley?

I asked her if she wanted to come. I figured she’s going to notice everyone showing up. She said she would, but who knows? She’s been acting so weird lately.

If Ravenwood had a face, Lena’s room would be one blinking eye, and Ridley’s window, the other. The ramshackle shutters were open, though they hung unevenly, and the window behind them was filthy. Before I turned away, a shadow passed behind Ridley’s window. At least I thought it was a shadow; in the moonlight it was hard to tell.

I couldn’t see who it was. They were too far away. But the window began to rattle, harder and harder, until the shutter swung off its hinge and slid down beneath the window entirely. Like someone was trying really hard to yank it open, even if it meant bringing the whole house down. For a second, I thought it was an earthquake, but the ground wasn’t moving. Only the house was.

Weird.

Ethan?

“Did you see that?” I looked at Link, but he was staring up at the chimney now.

“Look. The bricks are fallin’,” he said.

The shudder grew stronger, and some kind of energy surged through the entire house. The front door shook.

Lena!

I took off running for the door. I could hear things crashing and breaking inside. I reached up and pushed on the lintel, the Caster carving hidden above the door. Nothing happened.

Hold on, Ethan. Something’s wrong.

Are you okay?

We’re fine. Uncle Macon thinks something is trying to get in.

From out here, it looked more like someone was trying to get out.

The door opened, and Lena pulled me inside. I felt the thick curtain of power as I moved across the threshold. Link dove in after me, and the door slammed behind us. After what I had experienced outside, I was relieved to be in the house. Until I looked around.

By now I was used to the constantly changing interior of Ravenwood Manor. I had seen everything from historic plantation antiques to classic horror-movie Gothic in this room, but I was completely unprepared for this.

It was some sort of supernatural bunker, the Caster equivalent of Mrs. Lincoln’s cellar, where she stored supplies for everything from hurricanes to the apocalypse. The walls were covered in what looked like armor—sheets of dull silver metal from floor to ceiling, and the furniture was gone. Stacks of books and velvet armchairs had been replaced by huge plastic drums and cases of candles and scotch. There was a bag of dog food that was obviously for Boo, though I had never seen him eat anything but steaks.

A row of white jugs looked suspiciously like the supply of bleach Link’s mom kept around to “prevent infection from spreading.” I walked over and picked up one of the jugs. “What’s this? Some kind of Caster disinfectant?”

Lena took it out of my hand and lined it up next to the others. “Yeah, it’s called bleach.”

Link knocked on one of the plastic drums. “My mom would love this place. It would definitely score some points for your uncle. Forget about your thirty-six-hour pack and your seventy-two-hour pack. Those are for lightweights. This is some serious disaster prep. I’d say you’ve got enough for a good three weeks here. Except you don’t have a crowbar.”

I looked at him blankly. “A crowbar?”

“For diggin’ the bodies out a the rubble.”

“Bodies?” Mrs. Lincoln was crazier than I thought.

Link looked back at Lena. “And you guys don’t have any food.”

“That is where Casters differ, Mr. Lincoln.” Macon was standing in the doorway to the dining room, looking perfectly relaxed. “Kitchen is quite capable of supplying whatever we need. But it is important to be prepared. This afternoon is certainly evidence of that.”

He gestured toward the dining room, and we followed him in. The black claw-foot table was gone, replaced by a shiny aluminum one that looked like something from a medical research lab. Link and I must have been the last to arrive, because there were only two empty seats at the table.

If I ignored the weird lab table and sheet metal on the walls, it reminded me of the Gathering, when I met Lena’s family for the first time. Back when Ridley was still Dark and had tricked me into bringing her into Ravenwood. It seemed almost funny now. A world where Ridley was the biggest threat.

“Please, take a seat, Mr. Wate and Mr. Lincoln. We’re trying to determine the origin of the tremors.”

I slipped into one of the two empty chairs beside Lena, and Link took the other. Judging from the number of people around the table, I wasn’t the only one with something on my mind, but I didn’t say that. Not to Macon.

I know. It’s like he was expecting us. When I told him you were coming, he didn’t seem surprised. And everyone started showing up.

Marian leaned forward, into the pool of light that fell to the table from the nearest candle. “What happened out there? We could feel it inside.”

I heard a voice behind me. “I don’t know, but we could feel it outside, too.”

In the shadows, I could see Macon gesture at the table. “Leah, why don’t you take the seat on Ethan’s left?” By the time I turned, an empty chair had appeared between Link and me, and Leah Ravenwood was in it.

“Hey, Leah.” Link saluted her. Her eyes widened as she noticed the change in him. I wondered if she could sense her own kind.

“Welcome, brother.” Her black hair fell out of the ponytail at her neck, and for a second I remembered the nurse at County Care.

“Leah. It was you with Aunt Prue.”

“Shh. We have more important things to discuss.” She squeezed my hand and winked, which was her way of answering the question. It had been Leah watching over my aunt for me.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. I just do as I’m told.” She was lying. Leah was as independent as Lena.

“You never do what you’re told.”

She laughed. “Fine, then I do as I like. And I like to keep an eye on my family. My family, your family, it’s all the same.”

Before I could say anything else, Ridley burst into the room, wearing something that looked more like underwear than clothes. The candles flamed up for a second; Ridley still managed to have an effect on this room.

“I don’t see my name on any of the place cards. But I know I was invited to the party. Right, Uncle M?”

“You’re more than welcome to join us.” Macon sounded calm. He was probably used to Ridley’s outbursts by now.

“What exactly are you wearing, sweetheart?” Aunt Del raised a hand to her eye, as if she was having trouble seeing any clothes on Ridley’s body at all.

Ridley unwrapped a piece of gum, tossing the wrapper onto the table. “So, which is it? Welcome or invited? I like to know the size of the snub. I sulk better that way.”

“Ravenwood is your home now, Ridley.” Macon tapped his fingers impatiently but smiled as if he had all the time in the world.

“Actually, Ravenwood belongs to my cousin, Uncle M. Since you gave it to her and blew off the rest of us.” She was on a serious rampage tonight. “What, no grub? Oh, that’s right. Kitchen isn’t herself. None of you supernatural types are. Ironic, isn’t it? I’m in a room full of all these über-powerful people, and you can’t manage to get dinner on the table.”

“The mouth on that girl.” Aunt Del shook her head.

Macon gestured for Ridley to sit down. “I would appreciate it if you could be respectful of the minor… issues we all seem to be having.”

“Whatever.” Ridley dismissed Macon with a wave of her hot-pink nails. “Let’s get this party started.” She hitched up the strap of whatever it was she had on. Even by Ridley’s standards, she wasn’t wearing much.

“Aren’t you cold?” Aunt Del whispered.

“It’s vintage,” Ridley snapped.

“From what? The Moulin Rouge?” Liv stood in the doorway, her arms full of books.

Ridley flicked Liv’s braid as she stepped past Liv to the nearest open seat. “As a matter of fact, Pippi—”

“Please.” Macon silenced both of them with a look. “I’m impressed with the theatrics, Ridley. A bit less so with the costume. Now, if you’d take a seat.” Macon sighed. “Olivia, thank you for joining us.”

Ridley squeezed into the chair that had appeared next to Link, ignoring him as attentively as possible. He winked. “Don’t know what kinda store Moo Landrews is, but if they get one at the mall in Summerville, I’m gettin’ your birthday present there.” Ridley kept her eyes fixed in front of her, pretending not to notice him noticing her.

Macon began. “Olivia, did you feel the tremors?”

I kept my eyes trained on Macon’s face. But I heard Liv sit down and toss what I imagined was her red notebook onto the table and begin winding the gears on her selenometer. I knew all of her sounds, the way I knew Link’s or Amma’s or Lena’s.

“If you don’t mind, Sir Macon.” Liv pushed a stack of books and papers across the table toward him. “With that last one, I wanted to make sure I had the exact measurements.”

“Go on, Olivia.” Lena tensed when Macon said Liv’s name. I could feel it, coming in waves at me from her direction.

Liv kept talking, oblivious. “Basically, it’s getting worse. If the numbers are accurate, there’s a singular energy attracted to this house.” Great. All I needed was for Liv to start talking about attraction.

“Interesting.” Macon nodded. “So it is growing stronger, as we suspected?”

The “we” must have gotten to Lena.

I’m so tired of her.

“Liv?” Crap. I accidentally said her name out loud. What was wrong with me? I couldn’t even keep Kelting and talking straight. Lena stared at me, stunned.

“Yes, Ethan?” Liv was waiting for me to ask her a question.

The whole table turned in my direction. I had to come up with something. What were we talking about?

Attraction.

“I was wondering…”

“Yes?” Liv looked at me expectantly. I was glad Reece wasn’t in the room, even if her powers were out of whack. A Sybil would see what I was feeling.

And I didn’t need a selenometer to prove it or measure it for me. Even though we would never be anything more than friends, Liv and I would always mean something to each other.

My stomach contracted. This time, it wasn’t killer bees. More like Vexes gnawing on my internal organs.

“Vexes,” I said out of nowhere. Everyone was still staring at me.

Liv nodded patiently, waiting for me to say something that made sense. “Yes. There has been a great deal more than the usual amount of activity lately.”

“No. I mean, what if we’re assuming something’s trying to get into Ravenwood because of everything Abraham has been throwing at us?”

Marian looked at me blankly. “My library was nearly burned to the ground. Your aunts’ house was destroyed. It’s a fairly safe assumption, wouldn’t you say?”

Everyone in the room looked at me like I was an idiot, but I kept going. “What if we’re wrong? What if someone is doing this from the inside?”

Liv lifted an eyebrow.

Ridley threw up her hands. “That’s the stupidest—”

“It’s brilliant, actually,” Liv said.

“Of course you think so, Mary Poppins.” Ridley rolled her eyes.

“I do. And unless you have more convincing math, you’ll have to shut up and listen to me for once.” Liv turned to Macon. “Ethan could be right. There’s an anomaly in the numbers I haven’t been able to explain. But if I were to flip everything, it makes perfect sense.”

“Why would someone be doing this from the inside?” Lena asked.

I kept my eyes focused on the red notebook on the table—the rows of numbers, the things that were safe and known.

“The question isn’t why.” Macon’s voice sounded strange. “It’s who.”

Lena glanced at Ridley. We were thinking the same thing.

Ridley jumped out of her chair. “You think it’s me? I’m always the one who gets blamed for everything that goes wrong around here!”

“Ridley, calm down,” Macon said. “No one—”

But she cut him off. “Did you ever consider that the numbers on Little Miss Perfect’s crappy watch could be wrong? No, that would be impossible, because she has all of you eating out of her hand!”

Lena smiled.

It’s not funny, L.

I’m not laughing.

Macon raised his hand. “Enough. It’s quite possible something isn’t trying to get into Ravenwood at all. It may already be here.”

“Don’t you think we’d notice if one of Abraham’s Dark creatures had breached the Bindings?” Lena sounded unconvinced.

Macon rose from his seat, his eyes fixed on me. He was looking at me the same way he had the first night we met, when I showed him Genevieve’s locket at this table. “A valid point, Lena. Assuming we are dealing with a breach.”

Leah Ravenwood studied her brother. “Macon, what are you thinking?”

Macon walked around the table until he was standing directly across from me. “I’m more interested in what Ethan is thinking.” Macon’s green eyes started to glow. They reminded me of the luminescent color from the Arclight.

“What’s going on?” I whispered to Leah, who looked shocked.

“I knew Macon’s powers changed when he became a Caster. But I had no idea he could Mindhunt.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” It didn’t sound good, considering that Macon was completely focused on me.

“The mind is a labyrinth, and Macon can navigate his way through it.”

It sounded like one of Amma’s answers, the kind that doesn’t really tell you anything. “You mean he can read minds?”

“Not the way you’re thinking. He can sense disturbances and anomalies, things that don’t belong.” Leah was staring at Macon.

His green pupils were glowing and sightless now, yet I knew he was watching me. It was disturbing to be seen without being seen. Macon stared at me for a long minute. “You, of all people.”

“I what?”

“It seems you have brought something—no, someone— here with you this evening. An uninvited guest.”

“Ethan would never do that!” Lena sounded as surprised as I was.

Macon ignored her, still watching me. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something has changed.”

“What are you talking about?” A sick feeling was building inside me.

Marian stood up slowly, as if she didn’t want to startle him. “Macon, you know the Order is affecting everyone’s powers. You aren’t immune. Is it possible you are perceiving something that isn’t there?”

The green light faded from Macon’s eyes. “Anything is possible, Marian.”

My heart was pounding in my chest. A second ago he was accusing me of bringing someone into Ravenwood, and now he had what—changed his mind?

“Mr. Wate, it seems you are not yourself. Something quite significant is missing. Which explains why I sensed a stranger in my house, even if the stranger is you.”

Everyone was staring at me. I felt my stomach lurch, as if the ground was still moving beneath my feet. “Missing? What do you mean?”

“If I knew, I would tell you.” Macon started to relax. “Unfortunately, I’m not entirely sure.”

I didn’t know what Macon was talking about, and I didn’t care anymore. I wasn’t going to sit here and be accused of things I hadn’t done, because his powers were all screwed up and he was too arrogant to deal with it. My world was collapsing around me, and I needed answers. “I hope you had fun hunting, or whatever you call it. But that’s not what I came to talk about.”

“What did you come to talk about?” Macon sat back down at the head of the table. He said it like I was the one wasting everyone’s time, which only made me angrier.

“The Eighteenth Moon isn’t about Ravenwood or Lena. It’s about John Breed. But we don’t know where he is or what’s going to happen.”

“I think he’s right.” Liv chewed on the end of her pen.

“I thought you might want to know so we can find him.” I stood up. “And I’m sorry if I don’t seem like myself. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the world is falling apart.”

Ethan, where are you going?

This is bullshit.

“Ethan, calm down. Please.” Marian started to get up.

“Tell that to the Vexes that destroyed the whole town. Or Abraham and Sarafine and Hunting.” I looked right at Macon. “Why don’t you turn your X-ray vision on them?”

Ethan!

I’m done here.

He doesn’t mean—

I don’t care what he means, L.

Macon was watching me.

“There are no coincidences, right? When the universe warns me about something, it’s usually my mom talking. So I’m going to listen.” I walked out before anyone could say anything. I didn’t need to be a Wayward to see who was lost.