Chapter 12

Violet hit the water with a sharp slap. She managed to suck in a breath just before sinking under. The chaos of the party ceased. Music sealed away and muffled. Darkness and moisture and pressure closed in. And her hair.

She could already feel her braids unwinding.

But she was rising. The pressure on her face lessened faster and faster as she rushed towards the surface. The water was thin now. If she looked up, the surface tension would break. And so would her cover.

Something thick and heavy wrapped around her legs. She was sinking again. Whatever had her squeezed tighter, binding her ankles together. This was bad. She had to untangle herself before she ran out of air.

Violet peeled her eyes opened—

And screamed. A rush of bubbles escaped before she had the sense to conserve air.

A pair of monstrous faces were staring at her, grinning. Sharp teeth framed their unnerving smiles. Teeth that seemed oddly familiar… One of the faces closed in, bringing it into focus through the blurry water. Its eyes didn't match. Dark on its left, golden on the right. Another, more human face superimposed itself in Violet's mind. Her own eyes widened.

Hey, Shrimpy.

Floyd's voice echoed in her memory. No way. No way. This wasn't Floyd. Floyd was pasty. Tall. He wasn't some sea monster! He…

He didn't like to talk about where he was from.

A new fear replaced her first one as smooth, lithe fingers gently tilted her face from side to side. Dark clouds of hair danced in her periphery. The second face closed in now, the twin to Floyd's, though his eyes were switched and sharper. He held a finger to his still-grinning lips—

Shhhh.

–before collecting a handful of her hair and twisting. He reached behind her, producing her hat and shoving it onto her head. Violet wasn't done registering what had occurred before she was being lifted. She sped up, up. The current pulled back. She clamped a hand onto her hat. The surface broke.

Violet erupted out of the pool with a gasp. A pair of hands rested her on the edge, face-first. She lay there panting as the sounds of the party assaulted her ears. The music pumped like nothing happened. She was aware of eyes trained on her back while she held her jacket closed tight over her now sodden shirt.

"Oi!"

Something dry and rough landed over her head, obscuring her view of everything going on around her. Two more sets of hands dragged her to her feet and whisked her away.

"Wait," she said, craning her neck to get a glimpse of the pool. "Wait!"

"We gotta go," Deuce's voice answered, low and gruff.

The next thing Violet knew they were stepping back through to the mirror chamber.

Azul watched the first years hurry away from deep within the crowd. Those around him either shrugged off the spectacle or laughed amongst themselves over it. Perfect. Time to wrap this up.

"Apologies," he said to the group of students who'd been throwing around the MagiShift disk. "It seems I don't quite have the best aim. Here. For your troubles." With a wave of his magic pen, he summoned them a new disk. They were back to their game before Azul strode away.

He made his way through the party, casual and cool. His demeanor didn't quite fit in with the raucous celebration that surrounded him, but he didn't quite care and neither did anyone else. Perhaps it was why no one paid him any mind as he ducked into the little alcove behind the waterfall. Ducking low, he took the time re-adjust his gloves while he waited. A minute later, two figures emerged from the water below.

"Well?" Azul met Floyd and Jade with his usual, pleasant stare.

Jade's expression was as placid as the dorm head's, "We have what we came for."

"Yeah," Floyd laughed with everything in him, "Little Shrimpy's been keeping secrets."

His twin sighed, his face took on a tinge of exasperation, "Really, Floyd. Take care not to speak so loudly."

Azul ignored the frown that Floyd pulled. He straightened to his full height. "Very well, then. I believe it's time we get back to the lounge. We have much to discuss before morning."

The twins disappeared once again, likely to go dry off and regroup. Azul watched their shapes wade away beneath the surface to sort through his thoughts. His plan had gone off without a hitch, down to the placement of the disk's throw. How fortunate he could advise Kalim on the party's layout. And what's more, how convenient that some poor soul had traded their athletic skills away to him just that afternoon.

A fresh smirk lifted the left side of his mouth. He brushed some invisible dust off his sleeve and left.

"Floyd saw me."

Back at Ramshackle, Ace paced along Violet's bedroom, her admission cycling through his head. She was currently on the edge of her bed, still dripping wet. The towel they'd managed to summon was wrapped around her shoulders. Deuce sat beside her staring hard at a spot on the floor.

At first they'd asked who 'Floyd' was. The so-called sea monsters were nowhere in sight when they'd fished her out of the water. When she explained, their initial worry deepened into a sense of dread.

"You're sure?" Ace asked for the third time in ten minutes.

Violet was silent, then, "Yes."

"We're screwed," Deuce said.

Ace stopped his pacing, "No. We're not screwed. Plenty of guys have long hair. Look at Leona!"

"Leona isn't a girl," Deuce countered.

He was right. Now more than ever Ace hated to admit it. While others like Leona and Epel let their hair fall free— and others, still, kept theirs well past their shoulders— Violet's face was decidedly feminine when her hair was down. Even when it wasn't, she only managed to look boyish at best. Besides, she'd been wearing her uniform when she'd fallen. The white material of her shirt was transparent beneath her jacket. Ace fought to keep his face from heating up at the thought.

Violet's dark skin was an ashy pale. Ace wondered if she was trembling because she was cold or panicked, "They saw me, Ace."

Dammit. The red-head grasped at any excuse, any scenario that might have pointed to their secret remaining intact, but each one was more fantastical than the last. The creatures had seen the truth and there was no getting around it.

"I'm going to tell Crowley," she blurted, though she didn't look happy about it.

"What?" Grim cried.

Ace sputtered. "You can't!"

"Why not?" she huffed. "What if Floyd and the other one say something? What if we wake up tomorrow and the whole school knows? You're cooked."

"We're cooked either way," Deuce said.

Ace wasn't having any of this. He worked too damn hard these past few weeks to forfeit now. "You're screwing us all over if you go to Crowley. They- they gave you back your hat! What if they don't say anything at all?"

Violet shook her head, "No. No, I don't like this. Something's not right. Why did they help me?"

Grim was the one who answered, tapping a paw to his chin, "Dunno. But they're from Octavinelle, right? Aren't they all about mercy?"

That was enough to give her pause, or so it seemed to Ace. She didn't meet his eye for a good while, seemingly locked in her own thoughts. When she didn't answer after a minute he decided to drive the point a little further. "We don't know for sure that they'll say anything. If you go to Crowley, then we're all guaranteed to be expelled. You could ruin everything for no reason."

At long last Violet looked at him. He couldn't read her face as well as he'd have liked to. Luckily, Deuce stepped in,"He has a point."

Of course he did, Ace thought. Deuce knew it, and deep down he suspected Violet knew it as well. Self sabotage was too much to risk. Never mind his expulsion, she was gambling with her future too, and she had a hell of a lot more to lose than a spot at Night Raven. He almost said as much, except she plopped back onto her mattress and said, "Fine. I won't go to Crowley."

Good. It didn't fix their problem, but it was one less thing that could go wrong for them. Ace could tell she was still uneasy, all furrowed brows and finger tangled in the ends of her hair.

"What now?" Duece asked after an uncomfortable silence.

With a sigh, Violet said, "I'll talk to Floyd. Just in case. Maybe what he saw... what he thinks he saw…"

She trailed off, but Ace understood what she was trying to say. Perhaps, by some miracle, Floyd hadn't connected the dots. Or perhaps he was like Grim, unable to truly distinguish between human genders as easily as… well, a human.

The boys left shortly after, with Ace turning at the door and saying, "Try and get some sleep."

He didn't bother waiting for a response from either Violet or Grim. Empty words, he knew. He had a feeling none of them would be getting much rest that night. While the others in his dorm room were asleep, Ace took a cue from Cater. He pulled out his phone, hid beneath his covers and set to refresh his Magicam. Again.

Again.

Again.

Magicam was silent on the issue of Violet's plunge, save for a couple joke statuses sprinkled here and there. None had pictures, although that didn't stop Cater from lamenting not catching it on video. Apparently, he'd been at the party too.

Without Trey or Riddle around, it was up to Ace and Deuce to berate him. Violet didn't much care. She was too preoccupied tuning into as many conversations as she could. So far, not one of them mentioned her name.

"I think we're in the clear," Deuce murmured to her during Alchemy. Two classes into the day and nothing had crossed their paths.

Violet grunted in response, pretending to focus on chopping the mandrake root the way Professor Crewel demonstrated. They weren't in the clear, she knew. Not by a long shot.

During flying, Leona had indeed kept to his word, though it took the majority of class just to convince the coach to agree. Violet, for once, was grateful for the coach's ire. With how muddled her mind was, she doubted she'd be able to focus on MagiShift anyways.

At lunch, it was all she could do to keep water down. Magical Analysis was next.

"You gonna do it?" Deuce pushed his own food around with his fork. Violet wasn't the only one without an appetite. Even Grim was feeling it, only managing half a can of tuna.

"I have to," she said.

Ace nodded, "Just make sure no one overhears."

Violet's mind conjured the image of Floyd's notebook. "Don't worry. No one will."

Lunch hour was soon over. The first years dumped their cold meals in silence. Violet began her longest walk to class with Grim following at her heels. It was now or never.

Floyd didn't show up until the bells chimed the start of class. In fact, he sauntered in, taking his time to settle in his usual seat. The easy grin at his lips never faltered. Not when the professor shot a snide comment his way, nor with the way Violet fought to catch his eye. Not even when she slid him a note on her own sheet of paper. In fact, that last one only added to his satisfied air.

Violet was too nervous to be properly angry. Under any other circumstances she would have wanted to kill him. He knew what he was doing, ignoring her note. Avoiding her gaze. It wasn't until the lecture was well under way that he glanced in her note's direction.

Can we talk?

She watched him slide the paper closer with the tip of his finger. Slowly, he raised his pen. Each stroke scraped the edges of Violet's nerves until, at last, he slid the sheet back. Her heart sank when instead of a response she was met with fifteen lines grouped to form a phrase.

Floyd wanted to play.

Please.

She poured every once of her desperation into the word. He didn't answer beyond tapping the empty lines.

Violet knew what she had to do.

A

Floyd drew a circle on the stick-figure gallows. The image churned Violet's stomach. Why did it feel like it was her own neck sliding into a noose?

E

Two slots were filled in the final word of the phrase. It did not make her feel any better.

I

The first letter, and the first word in the phrase.

O

Two more lines filled, in the second and third words. Violet couldn't take it. She guessed the final vowel, 'U'— another success. Third letter, third word.

As much as Violet wished the game would go faster, Floyd was having a great time. He wrote each letter at an achingly slow pace, like he was savoring every curve and line that made each of them up. Even so, the phrase began to come together one painstaking letter at a time.

K

Second word, first letter.

B

The hangman gained his torso.

R

Another double, one at the end of the third word and other in the middle of the last. Violet looked at the puzzle so far. She still had six lines to go, but even now she had an inkling what the answer was.

y

The third word in the sentences was complete. 'Your' stared back at Violet. She could guess the rest right now, but the sliver of fast-dying hope was the only thing keeping her together. One last guess.

S

Floyd slid the paper close once more and let the tip of his pen hover over the first letter of the last word. He wrote it in a serpentine pattern, curling the tip in just a little more than necessary. Violet accepted the note back. She stared at their game for a solid minute, the last bit of hope fizzled out in her chest. She raised her head, eyes dulled in defeat. They met his, sparkling with mischief and joy and laughter. Clear, cruel laughter.

She lifted her brow, helpless and pleading. Just finish it, Floyd, she wished to say. But it wouldn't get her anywhere. Instead, he raised his brow. The corners of his mouth lifted in tandem. He flickered his gaze from her face, down to the paper, and back. He didn't have to do anything else for Violet to understand what it meant.

Finish it yourself.

Now it was her turn to fill in the remaining letters. With shaking hands, she wrote out an 'n', a 'w', a 'c', and finally a 't'. She wanted to cry. There, on the sheet was the phrase:

I know your secret.

Floyd hissed a chuckled, taking the paper back. To her horror, he wasn't done. Instead of storing the page, he turned his attention back to stick figure in the gallows. He finished the drawing, arms and legs added to the torso. He followed them with a horizontal line connecting the legs.

Long hair, flowing hair.

And a little bow perched on the side of its head.

The bell chimed for the end of the hour. Violet was going to be sick.

"Come to the Mostro Lounge tonight, Shrimpy," Floyd murmured in a very un-Floyd-like timbre. "Nine o'clock. And bring your friends."

With that, he flicked his magic pen once. The torturous game they'd just played vanished from the page. Not even the indentations of their writing remained. By the time Violet turned to face him again, Floyd had vanished.

Neither Ace nor Deuce bothered to ask Violet how her talk with Floyd went when met them in the library. By how hollow her face looked, and by the way she held Grim in a death grip, it went exactly the way they feared.

"He knows."

Deuce swore under his breath.

"Anything else?" Ace rubbed the back of his neck.

She nodded, "He said to go to the Mostro Lounge tonight at nine. All of us."

They sat, mulling the invitation over until Grim broke the silence.

"Do we go?" he asked.

The four of them exchanged a look. Deuce ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't think we have a choice."