Chapter 39
B uck didn’t come to say goodbye.
She’d packed her things last night. Her car was all loaded up, ready and waiting. She’d dragged her heavy suitcase across the camp with her own two hands, powered by anger and grief. Probably one of the shifters would have helped her, if she’d asked, but it had felt right to do it herself.
Her room was spotless, ready for her replacement. Still, Honey kept finding things to do—remaking the bed with fresh sheets, dusting out every nook and cranny of the shelves. She even fetched a bucket of water and carefully washed the window. Twice.
Still, no one came.
By the time it was coming up to mid-morning, Honey could find no more excuses to delay.
It’s for the best, she tried to tell herself as she left her room for the last time. At least this way, I can stay strong.
It had been hard enough to end things last night, when she’d been filled with hurt and betrayal. If he’d come to her now, all that fierce strength and uncompromising will focused on changing her mind… well, it would have been all too easy to let him talk her round.
But that would have been making the same mistake that she’d made all those years ago. Another man insisting that everything was fine, when she knew down to her bones that it wasn’t.
The rest of the cabin was silent, all the campers and counselors away on morning activities.
She paused for a moment in the main dorm, brushing her fingertips across each bed in silent farewell—Beth’s neatly turned-back sheets, Flora’s scrunched-up nest of blankets.
Claire’s drawings of flowers and animals tacked along the wall above her bunk; Estelle’s, a tatty, treasured crochet blanket hidden under the pillow.
“Goodbye,” Honey whispered.
If she didn’t leave now, she never would. Blinking hard, Honey made herself stride firmly out of the cabin.
Or at least, she tried to. Her foot caught on something just outside the front door, and she nearly pitched head first down the porch stairs. Whatever she’d stumbled over let out a startled mmmmmrrrp!
Honey caught herself on the porch railing, heart hammering. She tried to see what she’d tripped over, but there was nothing there. Just the mottled wood of the porch deck…
Which, as she watched, rippled, changing color. Weathered wood grain faded to white fur, patterned with anxious blue and orange spots.
“Claire?” Honey said, startled. “What are you doing here?”
The chameleopard’s tail was puffed out like a bottle-brush. Her spots swirled through a whole kaleidoscope of colors, settling on pulsating shades of red and orange. She yowled—the loudest sound Honey had ever heard Claire make in any form.
“Claire, you’re supposed to be down at the lake with the others!” Honey could easily imagine quiet Claire managing to slip away without anyone noticing she’d gone missing. “What’s the matter? Did you want to say goodbye?”
Claire yowled again, even louder. A moment later, something hit the porch roof in a scrabble of claws. Honey’s heart leaped—but then a beak poked over the edge. Golden eyes blinked at her owlishly, upside-down.
“Oh, it’s you, Rufus,” she said, the stupid surge of hope fading as quickly as it had come. “Does Buck know that you’re here? Where’s the rest of the pack?”
Rufus leaped down from the roof, landing with catlike ease. Shifting into human form, he grabbed her hand. With his other, he pointed into the woods.
“They’ve gone for a hike?” Honey guessed, but Rufus shook his head. He tugged at her hand more urgently. Behind her, Claire bumped her head against the back of Honey’s knees.
“Is something wrong?” Honey was starting to get worried now. “Claire, sweetheart, go inside so you can shift and get dressed. Then you’ll be able to tell me what’s the matter.”
Claire’s spots flashed an alarmed bright red. She exchanged a look with Rufus, then bumped the back of Honey’s legs again.
They clearly wanted her to go with them, and right now.
Honey cast a brief glance in the direction of the central camp area, wondering whether to go find Zephyr or Leonie, but something told her there wasn’t time.
She had a strange, gut-deep sense of urgency that wasn’t entirely due to the children’s peculiar behavior.
“All right, I’ll come with you,” she said, and saw Claire’s spots fade to a more relaxed mauve. “But I wish you’d tell me what’s going on.”
She let Claire and Rufus lead her away from the cabins. At first, she thought they were headed for the woods, but as they approached the trees Rufus surged forward to bar the way, shaking his head at Claire. The chameleopard doubled back, leading Honey the other way instead.
Honey couldn’t help glancing back at the woods, some strange impulse to go that way pulling at her heart. “Are you sure you know where we’re going, kids?”
Claire’s spots rippled pink, then settled on a steady orange. She bounded ahead, letting out a little mmmrp! sound as though to encourage Honey to keep up.
Increasingly bemused, Honey allowed them to take her on what seemed to be a rather random circuit of the camp. The only constant seemed to be that they consistently steered her away from other people, especially staff. Whatever Rufus and Claire were doing, they clearly didn’t want to get caught.
“All right,” she said at last, coming to a halt. They were way off on the far side of camp now, almost at the fence that marked the boundary. “That’s enough. Are you two just trying to delay me?”
Claire and Rufus exchanged wide-eyed glances. Honey definitely read guilt in their expressions.
She sighed, kneeling to stroke Claire’s soft, furry head. “It’s all right. I’m not mad. It’s sweet that you want to keep me here. But I really have to go now. I’m supposed to have left an hour ago.”
Rufus’s hands fluttered in an odd, agitated movement. Without warning, he shifted into griffin form, bounding into the air.
“Rufus! You’re not supposed to…” Honey trailed off as the griffin flapped unsteadily out of sight. She sighed again. “We’d better go after him. You kids should know by now that it’s against camp rules for you to go anywhere alone.”
At least Rufus seemed to be heading toward the center of camp rather than away. Halfway across the fields, she discovered why. Rufus came charging back, running rather than flying now. The rest of the pack were hard on his paws.
Or rather, most of the rest of the pack. By now, Honey didn’t have to count heads to know when one was missing.
“Where’s Ignatius?” she asked.
“He’s, uh, busy,” Finley managed to get out, in between gasps. All the kids were wheezing as though they’d just sprinted all the way from the lake. “But we had to come find you! Because, um…”
“We have a surprise for you!” Estelle interjected. “In the, uh…”
“Dining hall,” Archie said, simultaneously with Flora’s confident: “Art building.”
Honey narrowed her eyes at them. “This surprise seems to be as much a mystery to you as it is to me.”
The kids exchanged panicked glances.
Honey sighed. “Does someone want to tell me what Ignatius is doing right now?”
“Nooooooooo,” Estelle said, drawing out the word. “Not really.”
“Please don’t be mad at us, alpha.” Beth twisted the end of her long red braid. “But we can’t tell you.”
“We couldn’t even if we wanted to,” Archie said earnestly. “Ig wouldn’t tell us his plan. Just that we had to keep you and Buck busy while he did it.”
“Is this why you led me out here?” Honey asked Rufus and Claire. “You were trying to distract me?”
Rufus hung his head, feathers drooping. The chameleopard shuffled her paws, looking as hangdog as the griffin.
“Don’t blame Rufus and Claire,” Flora said staunchly. “They were just following Iggy’s plan. He said we had to stop you from leaving the camp.”
“Please trust us, alpha,” said Beth. “I know it looks bad, but everything’s going to be fine. Ig swore he could fix everything.”
“If we can trust him ,” Estelle muttered.
Honey’s stomach sank even lower. “Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”
Before any of them could reply, a shadow swept over their heads. Honey looked up, and her blood turned to ice.
A vast, bat-winged shape dove toward the camp. The dragon circled, letting out a deafening, furious roar. Its scales glittered gold in the sunlight, bright as polished coins.
“Kids,” Honey breathed in horror. “What have you done?”