Chapter 18 #3
Claire shook her head, retreating further from the snapping flames. Rufus looked from her to Buck, his eyes narrowing.
Finley nodded. “Rufus says Buck wouldn’t set us a challenge that involves shifting. And I agree. It’s a trick question, somehow. Maybe we’re supposed to ignore the fire itself, and just concentrate on making sure it doesn’t spread.”
“You mean, ring it with a firebreak?” Beth dug the toe of her shoe into the tough grass. “But we’d have to clear the ground down to the soil, and we haven’t got any tools.”
“This is stupid.” Estelle clenched her fists, glaring at the fire in frustration. “How are we supposed to put out a fire with nothing but our bare hands?”
“You’re all idiots,” Ignatius said. “Why would you even try?”
“Good,” Buck said unexpectedly, making them all start. “Ignatius is right.”
Nobody looked more surprised by this than Ignatius himself. “I am?”
“First sensible thing anyone’s said so far.
” Buck sat back on his heels. “You’re kids, not a hotshot crew.
Even if you have some knowledge—looking at you, Beth—you don’t have the training, experience, or gear to tackle a fire safely.
So, Ignatius. It’s your moment of glory. What are you going to do?”
Ignatius hunched his shoulders in a surly shrug. “Nothing.”
“Right answer again. Why?”
“Because…” For once, Ignatius had lost that defensive sneer. Now he looked like he was edging out onto ice, expecting to hear a crack at any moment. “Because you’re the grown-up. You’re supposed to know this stuff. If the fire gets out of control, it’s your job to put it out.”
“Correct.” Buck tipped his head back, gazing at the sky with serene unconcern. “Unfortunately, I’m currently distracted, thinking about all the places I’d rather be right now. It’s an extensive list. Could keep me occupied for some time. So now what are you going to do?”
Ignatius rolled his eyes. He raised his voice in a sarcastic yell: “Buck, the fire’s spreading!”
Buck did an elaborate, over-the-top double take. Picking up his shovel, he stood. With brisk, calm movements, he knocked the burning sticks apart. He dumped dirt on them, then stirred the pile with the blade of the shovel until all that remained of the fire was fading wisps of smoke.
“There.” Buck drove the shovel into the ground, dusting off his hands.
“A campfire gets out of control, you motherlovers scream for help and get the hell away as fast as your feet, paws, wings, or fins will take you. I’ll tell you the same thing I’ve told every rookie I’ve ever trained.
Do not screw around with fire, because fire will absolutely not screw around with you.
Here ends the first lesson. Now go find some dry twigs. I’ll show you how to use a firesteel.”
Looking rather more solemn than they had previously, the campers scattered. Ignatius, however, lingered a moment.
“What does this have to do with shifting?” he asked.
Buck sat down again. “Who said it had anything to do with shifting?”
“This is a camp for shifters. I thought that was the whole point of this place. Shouldn’t you be teaching us something useful?”
Buck shrugged. “It’s a summer camp. I’m teaching you summer camp things.”
“But…” Ignatius still looked like he was suspecting some kind of trap. “When do the real lessons start?”
“This is as real as it gets, kid. Shifting isn’t part of my job description. You don’t like that, take it up with your uncle.” Buck leaned back on his elbows, to all appearances completely unconcerned. “Now scram. Go collect kindling with the others.”
With clear reluctance, Ignatius obeyed. Honey waited until he was across the clearing, well out of earshot of even shifter hearing.
“I think,” she murmured to Buck, “I’m beginning to see your plan.”
Buck stretched out his legs, still keeping a close eye on the kids. “Thought you might. His uncle sent him here to learn shifter crap from a dominant alpha. I’m going to comprehensively fail to deliver.”
“And you think Ignatius will figure that out and complain to Lord Golden about you?”
“He’s a bright enough kid, under the attitude. With any luck, he’ll be bitching on the phone to his uncle by sunset. Then Zephyr can transfer Ignatius to another pack, and we can all breathe a sigh of relief.”
“I’m not sure he’ll get on any better with a different set of campers,” Honey muttered. “Or counselors, for that matter. Buck, that boy needs a mentor. Someone he can respect.”
“Not your problem,” Buck said firmly. “Honey, the kid’s a walking time bomb, not a lost chick you can gather under your wing.
He doesn’t want to be here, and I’m damn sure he’d throw you under the bus in a heartbeat if it meant he could go home.
Every day he’s in this pack increases the risk of discovery.
We have to get him transferred to a different pack.
And the only way his motherloving uncle will allow that is if it comes from Ignatius himself. ”
Honey shook her head. “And if he doesn’t demand a different counselor?”
“Don’t worry. He will.” Buck shot her a sidelong glance, one eyebrow twitching up. “I’m just getting started. Trust me, I can keep that kid way too busy planning my untimely demise to spare so much as a thought for you. Everything’s going to work out fine.”
Honey’s gaze drifted back to Ignatius. He was at the edge of the woods, picking through fallen branches without notable enthusiasm He was still keeping his distance from the other kids, ignoring them with pointed disdain—but, as Honey watched, he glanced back at Buck.
“Yes,” Honey said under her breath. “I think it just might.”