“It’s her fault,” he said weakly. He pressed his elbow into the moist jungle floor and sat up. “What was she doing in Artimé, of all places? If she’d gone to the Ancients Sector right away like she was supposed to, she’d still be alive. Probably, anyway.” He couldn’t catch his breath, and his chest wouldn’t stop hurting. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. Only that he wanted Secretary back.
He got to his feet, eyes stinging, and stumbled toward the clearing where the tube was, hoping beyond hope that the rock was nowhere in sight. He had to get out of there. He had to go home.
Finally he reached the clearing and saw the little dog swinging by his teeth from tree branch to tree branch. There was no one else there. Aaron hid behind a tree and waited for the dog to move out of sight, and then he ran for the tube and stepped inside. When he turned to push the button, he caught sight of something moving toward him through the jungle. It was the panther, as alive as she’d ever been. Beside her was a large gray wolf.
The wolf’s cool, blue eyes met Aaron’s, and for a brief moment Aaron felt like he’d seen the creature before. But of course he hadn’t. And he had no desire to see it ever again. He slammed his hand down on the button and disappeared, spending less than a second in the mansion’s tube before redirecting himself to Haluki’s house.
In no time at all, the high priest was making his way out of the house, up the gravel driveway toward the portcullis, and past the guards to the palace. Inside, he shoved past Liam Healy without a word, leaving the new governor speechless, and continued to his office, where all was quiet. Too quiet.
Aaron closed the door, walked to his desk, and sat down. Then he dropped his head into his hands and stayed still for a very long time, thinking about Secretary. Thinking about how he’d made yet another rash decision, and he’d messed up again. Thinking about how there was no fixing this. Not this time. Because the woman who always fixed things for him was dead. After a while, the pain in his chest grew so large that it began to push its way out in low groans and ugly sobs.
Aaron’s only friend in the entire world was dead.
What was he going to do without her?
Meghan Gets Mad
When Gunnar Haluki returned and the confusion from the panther attack on Artimé finally began to clear, three truths emerged:
Eva Fathom was dead . . . and she appeared to have been on Artimé’s side all along.
Aaron Stowe had unleashed the panther, but he’d also released the heart attack spells to stop its attack.
Meghan Ranger was one seriously ticked-off Unwanted, and she’d had about enough of Aaron Stowe.
Her component vest pockets bulging, Meghan marched past the girrinos at the gate without a word and headed into Quill, up the road toward the palace. Every step she took brought her simmering anger closer to its boiling point, and by the time she reached the palace, she was in no mood to converse with the guards who stood there. Before they could issue a challenge, she hit the men with scatterclips that sent them flying backward, pinning them to the portcullis. She finished with a silent spell and left them hanging noiselessly as she released the lock and slipped inside the grounds.
At the entrance, Meghan dog-collared each guard with clay shackles. After only a moment’s hesitation to take in the unfamiliar surroundings, she straightened her vest, headed up the stairs, and began opening doors and looking inside rooms until she happened upon the right one.
Aaron emitted a small gasp when he heard the noise at the door, and Meghan thought she detected a hint of hope in his face. But it soon turned to confusion and perhaps even fear.
Meghan didn’t care. Hope, confusion, fear—none of it mattered. Before he could move, Meghan flung a handful of scatterclips at him. He and his chair soared backward and stuck to the wall. His arms stuck too, spread out, leaving him helpless.
“Wha-a-a-t?” Aaron asked. He sniffed wildly and tried to wipe his eyes on his shoulder, but he couldn’t quite reach.
Meghan stepped right up to him, her face pinched in disdain. “I saw what you did. What is your problem?” she said, not caring that she spoke the words loud enough to be heard outside the office. “I hope you know Eva Fathom is dead! Where did you find that horrible panther creature?”
Aaron stared. “It—it was a mistake,” he said. It made him feel weak to say it, and he didn’t like that feeling at all. He cleared his throat and changed his tone to something much more menacing. “I intended to kill you all,” he said, lifting his chin. “And if you don’t release me immediately, I will do just that.”
Meghan’s sneer melted in confusion as the scatterclips clattered to the floor. The sudden freedom took Aaron by surprise. He scrambled off the chair, tripped over its leg, and fell. He looked startled for a moment, then his countenance cleared, and as he got to his feet, he seemed quite pleased with himself.
“How did you do that?” Meghan demanded. She pulled more spells from her vest pockets, ready to fight.
“Yes, Aaron. How?” came a voice from the doorway. “I’m so curious.”
Meghan turned to see a red-faced, eyebrowless woman stepping into the room. The girl eased back, pointing spells at Aaron and the woman, but neither seemed to take any further notice of her. The two stared at each other.
“Do what, Governor? I didn’t do anything,” Aaron said, his voice cool. He wiped the dust from his pants. “This Unwanted is such a failure that she can’t even cast a proper spell.”