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“The Broods finally decide to come play,” the woman said. “And who do they send? Not one of the heirs. Not a prized cousin or a genius nephew. They send me you.”
Ren had been prepared for any number of opening statements. This was not one of them. She felt a slumbering animal rise in her chest. All the years of anger and mistreatment back to a steady boiling. She set her jaw and said nothing.
“Tell me what you just saw,” the woman demanded.
The boy—Pecking—was beside his prized tree, carefully examining the results. The other researchers, both older than Ren, waited intentionally in earshot. She saw the two of them exchange looks. They wanted to hear how Ren’s first test went. Like most of her peers at Balmerick, they appeared all too ready to glut themselves on her failure. It only made her angrier.
“He used the common guidance spell for decay,” Ren began. “Instead of using a severance charm, though, he added…” It had been some time since she’d done this. Class had kept her sharp and on her toes. Pressured her into being the best. She was rusty. “A proximity spell… with a directional overflow charm.”
Pecking was watching her now too. The older woman’s head tilted.
“My great-grandmother tried that combination,” she replied. “Nearly a century ago. It didn’t work then and it won’t work now. Come on. Try harder. What’s the missing spell?”
Ren felt like that combination of spells should have worked. Why wouldn’t it be enough? Her mind scrambled for another answer. What else could there be?
“How about this,” the woman said, cutting off Ren’s thoughts. “You have until the end of the day to figure it out. If you give up, feel free to leave early and don’t bother coming back. But until you figure out the answer, I won’t take you on for this role. I do not have time to waste on the Broods’ bottom-feeders. We all pull our weight here.”
Ren tried not to be stung by that final accusation. The woman paced off in the direction of one of the other displays. The other researchers took that as a sign to scatter. Ellison Proctor hovered awkwardly beside her.
“Well. Good luck,” he said. “I’d enjoy seeing you again.”
He left her there, staring at the tree and the cherublike boy beneath it. Ren shook herself. It was like rattling a cage. Waking up some dormant creature in her chest. There was no time to seethe over being called a bottom-feeder. She’d learned this lesson at Balmerick. The only defiance that counted in their world was the sort of defiance that led to results. She thought back through spell combinations and possibilities. Truly, there were hundreds of categories of spell types—under which hundreds of subcategories existed. Even if she could research for months, it was possible she wouldn’t stumble upon the right answer.
She waited for Pecking to back away from the tree before making her own approach. She half hoped there’d be some trace of his magic in the air. But whatever he’d done was far too complicated to parse. All she could do was examine the two pieces of rotten fruit. There were no real clues there, other than the fact that they were side by side, and the second apple had not rotted quite as extremely as the first. Ren circled the tree twice before realizing Pecking was watching her. His eyes flicked over to where the head researcher stood, then back to Ren.
“I could just tell you,” he whispered, round face betraying no emotion. “The answer.”
Ren snorted. She knew from experience that help like that would never come for free. There was also the simple and annoying matter of pride. If this boy could figure it out, so could she.
“No, thank you.”
He blushed a little. Or maybe his cheeks were permanently that color?
“She just wants you to say that you don’t know,” he whispered back. “She gave us all a question like this. When we first came here. She wants you to say you don’t know, because then she can begin teaching you.”
Maybe he was really trying to help, or maybe he was doing his best to get rid of her. It was not a coin she could afford to flip. She sat down in front of the tree and closed her eyes. When Pecking sighed and walked away, she set to the task of solving the impossible. It was like unpacking old boxes, long covered in dust. All the information was still there, but that didn’t mean it was sorted and set out quite as neatly as it had been during her school days.
As she searched the rows of her mind, the others went about their normal tasks. Nearly every experiment received a visit. At first, Ren had not understood their random array about the room. Ellison Proctor was the answer to that question. He spent most of his time along the exterior walls. He’d pause at very specific intervals and perform the same, repetitive spell, before continuing around the room. Ren had been idly observing him when the larger image fell into place. The room was one massive grid. There were no walls or corridors or hallways, but there was magic. Unseen spells sectioning off each experiment in its own tidy square. The perfect layout just made her want to be a part of all this even more.
The woman who’d assigned Ren her task vanished during the middle of the day. Ren had no appetite for lunch, but the head researcher’s absence brought the other two circling back like a pair of curious vultures. Ren realized they were siblings.
“Any guesses yet?” the sister asked. “Or did Pecking already slip you the answer?”
The brother snorted. “Bet he asked her on a date, too.”
“He didn’t tell me anything,” Ren replied. “I’m working it out myself.”
That led to another exchange of grins. The sister twirled her hair with one finger.
“So. You’re Ren Monroe.”
Ren stared back at her. “I am.”
“Heard you got lost in the woods last year.”
The brother snickered. “Gods, Maryan. Have some manners.”
“What?” The girl—Maryan—sneered back at him. “It’s just a fact. It’s not like I’m making fun of her or something. She literally was lost in the woods.”
