Helga G Pataki: Hillwood's New Superhero

by KlutzyMaiden123

As if my life hadn't already been difficult. I already had to watch the love of my life, Arnold, make goo-goo eyes at little Miss Perfect, Lila Sawyer, while completely ignoring me. Now, I have to juggle school, keeping my feelings for him secret and battling evil dressed in a skimpy bathing suit, all the while keeping my lifestyle as a superhero from my nosey classmates.

20. Well, Excuse Me, Princess! (Part Two)

It felt like summer had exploded in here.

The library was hot. Full of blistering air so warm that when it licked your face, you could feel the moisture it left behind. It wasn't like the air in Rhonda's car, where there had been a light drizzle of cinnamon spice that wafted your senses with warmth. This, this was like a sharp smack to the face. We'd been coming in from the cold though, so at first, it had been a nice welcome. But within minutes, I had to shrug off both my jackets and pin my hair up into a bun.

It was becoming very clear to me that librarians hated the cold.

Well, at least, today's librarians. I could still remember the crow-faced librarian from weeks ago, who had insisted on blasting the air conditioner until it felt like we were standing in the middle of a winter wonderland. Although, to be fair, the one in charge that day had turned out to be a Wraith, disguising itself as a human to suck everyone's energy dry. So maybe that wasn't exactly a fair comparison.

The memory of that event put me on edge, and throughout the time we were working, I kept looking over my shoulders for any suspicious activity. But whether it was because of how warm it was or how dead it was, everything seemed fine. No sinking feelings or uneasiness. So, I figured it was safe.

Besides, I thought to myself, the Wraiths didn't seem like the type to attack a place twice in a row.

But, anyway, the sweltering heat wouldn't have bothered me so much (since I actually liked the heat), if it didn't make me so drowsy. Now, all I wanted was to shut my eyes and sleep.

But Rhonda would've chewed me out for that, so I settled for pinching my arm beneath the table (which was hard to do when wearing thick gloves). We were sitting across from one another at a table near the window. The light shuffled over us, pale like lemonade. The sky was slowly clearing; loose white threads peaked through the silver clouds and moved with the wind like streamers.

The table between us was covered in papers. We'd swapped each other's stories to silently read them over in our heads, so we could come back with our honest thoughts. Rhonda sat, leg hooked over her knee, face blank as she read my story.

I'd finished a few minutes ago—her story wasn't that detailed—so I was left waiting and thinking over how I could phrase how much I didn't like her story. How I'd felt nothing when reading it. Not because I was worried about hurting her feelings (puh–lease, this girl didn't have any feelings), but because if I said the wrong thing, she could strike back even harder. If Rhonda was good at one thing, it was firing back with snide remarks. She was witty and fast and could tear my story apart in seconds.

Which was looking like what she was planning on doing. It had been twenty minutes and not once had her face changed. Her expression was fixed, neither angry nor impressed, and her lips never moved into a smile.

I swallowed and glanced at the laptop shut between us. It was Rhonda's—obviously. Filled with a bunch of digital notes that she wanted to include in the story. I couldn't decide whether that irritated or impressed me.

Her olive–coloured jacket was folded over the back of her neighbouring chair. It was leather and cropped, fitted like she was the cool girl in a stylish gang, and though I hated to admit it, it was seriously cute.

Of course Rhonda would manage to look like a model in weather like this. I don't think she'd even sweated a drop since we got here, which was more than I could say for myself. How did she do that?

Finally, she looked up from my story.

"Well, what the hell was that?"

My jaw almost hit the desk. "What was what?"

"This!" Her eyebrows bunched together as she pointed at the papers like they offended her. "What is this?"

Oh criminy. I wanted to roll my eyes.

"I wouldn't expect you to get it," I said and kicked back into my seat, like my heart wasn't hammering in my throat.

"Then who do you expect to get it?" she demanded and copied my movements by slumping back into her chair. "Jesus, I haven't read something so sexist since I picked a Stephen King novel."

I jolted upright in my seat. "Excuse me—how the hell was it sexist?"

"Oh, where do I begin?" she rolled her eyes, light scuffling across her features, then began checking the points off her fingers. "How about the boring main character? Or how much you like to remind everyone that she's 'oh so different from the other girls, that's what makes her so pure'. Or how utterly swept up and devoted she is to this dickbag? All you need is some holier–than–thou slut shaming and congrats, you're a YA author."

I scoffed. "Well, at least mine has emotions. Yours is so factual and boring."

"Only you would find something logical to be boring," rolling her eyes, Rhonda placed some pages on the table then stabbed her finger onto the surface as if to emphasize her point. "Mine has agency. She's not crying over her batshit of a husband. She's fighting him."

"Yeah, and it's unrealistic," I insisted, leaning forward despite her gaze being sharp enough to cut through glass. "She's married to him, dingus, and she just walked in on six rotting corpses. That's enough to mess anyone up—and fuck, she's allowed to be upset about it. She just found out that the guy she's married to and has been in love with is a murderer."

"Yeah, sure, but at some point, some sense of instincts has gotta kick in," she crossed her arms. "God, that was always something I hated about the original too. Why do her brothers have to be the ones to save her? They're never mentioned before that. She's an able–bodied woman with a good head on her shoulders and she has the element of surprise. He doesn't know she knows but she knows what he'll do when he gets back."

"Yours sounds more sexist than mine supposedly does," I frowned. "What, cause she's a woman, she's not allowed to feel anymore? She shouldn't have to pick up a knife for you to classify her as strong."

"That is so not what I'm saying, meat–for–brains."

"It's totally what you're implying though."

Rhonda groaned.

"Look, all I'm saying is yours isn't much different from the original tale. And that was basically a cautionary tale against women showing curiosity," she explained. "But at least that was written ages ago. What's your excuse? C'mon Helga, where's your pride? Y'know, I am woman, hear me roar."

"I don't roar."

She rolled her eyes. "Clearly."

"And what's that supposed to—"

A dark shape suddenly leapt from over my shoulder and onto the table. It landed between Rhonda and I, perching squarely on our discarded sheets.

My voice lodged itself into my throat while Rhonda gave a start, flinging herself backwards with a sharp smack to her chest. I almost fell out of my seat when the shape turned around, and I suddenly recognised it's gaze.

"Nel!"

Purple eyes blinked back then formed into a frown, and an exasperated growl rumbled in my chest. Oh, for God's—what was she doing here?

Rhonda gaped, eyes round, then stabbed a finger in Nel's direction. "This is your cat, Pataki?"

I frowned, unsure if she was more shocked at Nel's appearance or that I had a cat to begin with. Rhonda then jumped when the cat in question turned to look at her.

"Yes, but I told her to stay home," I said through gritted teeth and a pointed glare.

Nel ignored me, and Rhonda opened her mouth but stopped to narrow her eyes. "Does . . . does it have purple eyes?"

"Hokay—that's enough," I put my hands up and when Nel looked back at me, I glared hotly at her. "We're working, Nel—scat."

She glared back.

I didn't need her to talk to know that being spoken to like that—you know, like a cat—offended her greatly. Personally, I didn't care right now. I was pissed—working with Rhonda was bad enough but finding out my talking cat was stalking me was another matter entirely.

And three guesses as to why she was stalking me.

So, clearing my throat, I jabbed my glove-covered finger to the right. She hissed, ears folding back like I'd just told her to jump into a lake. But I didn't relent and instead poked the air harder. I was so not in the mood for her today.

She gave me another glare but surprisingly, chose to obey. Her stare was frosty and sent chills down my neck, but she leapt from the table and scampered off. But not without one last look over her shoulder, shadowed and haunted.

I breathed a sigh of relief when she was out of my sight and plopped back into my chair. Heat curled over my forehead so I brushed my bangs from my eyes, which did nothing to relieve the sweat gathering across my brows, considering I had to mop it away with my gloves.

I then rubbed the bridge of my nose. Every interaction with Nel in public took two more years from my life, I swear.

"You trained your cat?"

I glanced up.

Rhonda raised her eyebrows, her expression absent of anger and accusations, like she was honestly just curious.

"No, she just understands me," I shrugged, well over this topic. "Anyway so how about this—let's just combine our approaches."

She frowned, looking like she wanted to continue the conversation about Nel, but allowed for the shift in focus in favour of hearing my proposal.

"How?"

"Well, in my version, I focus more on the romance aspect while you clearly have more of a knack for the mystery and action portion," I explained, drawing random patterns in the table with my finger. "So, maybe we can—I dunno, combine the genres? Maybe give it an almost horror movie vibe—slasher kinda. Make her a final girl. She's still upset and confused and traumatised but make it a fight for her survival . . . kinda like that movie—Ready or Not."

That last part was a shot in the dark. I had no idea if Rhonda had seen, let alone liked, that movie, but it seemed like her type of flick.

It didn't seem like a false conclusion either. My argument seemed to be working. She looked contemplative; her lips were pursed as she moved forward, cradling the side of her jaw in her palm as she rested her elbow on the table.

It took me a moment to realise that I was winning Rhonda Wellington Lloyd—the most stubborn human on this planet—over. With logic.

"I'm listening," she said with a slight tip of her chin.

"So, we lessen the focus on Blue Beard and put more on her as a character," I continued, crossing my arms on the table. "You had good ideas, like having her actually fight him back and stuff, but it didn't feel realistic. He's killed so many wives, what makes this one so special? If she can fight back then surely they could have. I think we should make her struggle more—she gets out by fighting back but not because of her brute strength."

Hopefully that wouldn't set her off. Because I meant it—Rhonda did have good ideas. But her story was devoid of emotions, it lacked vulnerability in the main character, which made it easy to lose interest fairly quickly.

Within half a page of learning her husband is a killer, her main character—Hattie—had pulled the axe from the wall and began devising an elaborate plan to kill her husband. Her devotion to the past wives was nice but everything else felt off. It was like Rhonda herself felt like Hattie couldn't have any weaknesses otherwise that made her a bad character.

Rhonda's eyes squinted and she stroked her chin, nodding.

"That could work," she admitted.

"It's unrealistic to have her just lob off his head though," I quickly added. "Regardless of how you feel about it, she's naturally at a disadvantage. She's never wielded a weapon before, like the previous wives. So, she should get out because of her resourcefulness—she finds things around the house that she can use. She's acting on survival instincts alone and gets lucky."

"Okay, so she doesn't need to be Black Widow," Rhonda surprised me with her agreement. She shifted her gaze to the side in thought, absentmindedly tapping the end of her pen on the table. Her eyes then lit up like matches. "But maybe it doesn't just have to be her fighting him."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, in the original, she distracts Blue Beard with her praying while her sister keeps a lookout for their brothers, right? Maybe we could combine their roles—the brothers with the sister. Make her a servant who's been working for Blue Beard for years. Maybe she feels guilty for keeping his secret but doesn't have the political or social power to say or do anything because ultimately he's more powerful than her."

"And maybe for whatever reason, she's gotten really attached to this wife," I continued, feeling my mind light up in sync with Rhonda's. "And she doesn't want this one to be murdered like the others so she decides to finally do something about it."

"She decides to no longer rely on the law to catch him," Rhonda said, snapping her fingers. "But herself. She decides to say fuck it, take matters into her own hands, and help the wife."

"So, instead of the men sweeping in to save her—"

"—both these women take agency and reclaim their stories—"

"—stressing less of a cautionary tale against female curiosity—"

"—but a celebration of teamwork and sisterhood!" Rhonda finished by slapping the bottom of her fist into her palm with a victorious glint in her eyes.

I raised a brow.

She shrugged. "I'm a sucker for that."

I stared at her for a moment before shaking my head, biting back a laugh, and reaching for her shut laptop. "This might actually work—"

"Whoa whoa whoa—" she suddenly yanked the computer away before I could even graze it and cradled it protectively to her chest. "And what do you think you're doing?"

I frowned. "Getting ready to write it."

She barked out a laugh. "You think I'd let you touch my computer? You must be joking."

"Oh, so who's gonna write it—you?"

"Doi."

"Oh, puh–lease, I'm clearly the better writer and you know it."

"Yes, that's why you failed your last assignment."

"I totally had a cold that day!"

"You did—"

"Ladies!"

We both let out similar sounding shrieks and pivoted sharp in our seats, looking up at a very, very angry looking librarian. She stood over us, wrists curled at her hips, with hair coiled like bluebells and a face frozen in anger.

"If you cannot remain quiet," she uttered, voice raspy like gravel, "then I'm going to have to ask that you both leave."

Her stare was razor sharp.

I shuddered, turning away to meet Rhonda's similarly looking gaze, bright with fear. She then raised an eyebrow, a plan already in her head, and, knowing I had no other choice, I sighed.

---

"I hate you."

"Shut up," Rhonda snapped without looking at me. Though she had to raise her voice to be heard over the coffee machines and the footsteps and the many, many voices that surrounded us. Her arms were crossed tight over her chest, green jacket in one hand, and both her fists tucked into her sides. "The food is good and we can actually talk here."

More like the food is expensive, I thought with a roll of my eyes.

Apparently, Rhonda's idea of a place for us to work on our assignment together was a café.

An expensive one.

Seriously, I had never even heard of this place before. It was in the richer section of Hillwood and normal people preferred to avoid places like this.

That being said . . . it was kinda nice. Which, I guess all things considered, wasn't that shocking. But still, it wasn't your typical café. It was a patchwork of whites, blacks and mahoganies, with tables made out of honeyed slabs of wood and wired legs. The walls were white, tall and sharp, and lined with thick patches of ivy. The green leaves lined the walls like furry veins, a sweet wave of evergreen, and gave off an aroma so sweet it almost masked the scent of caffeine.

Looking at the plants, I felt my stomach churn with a sense of yearning. They were such a vivid shade of green, so dark, yet bright. They brought to mind a certain pair of eyes, of which I hadn't seen in what felt like months. But as soon as the thought registered, I shook my head, curling my mouth to the side and looking away. Yeah, now was so not the time, Pataki.

Eventually, we reached the counter where a young woman with sleek hair greeted us. She was dressed in the standard uniform—a teal button up paired with black trousers—with her hair pinned back in a no–nonsense bun.

Her blue eyes twinkled when she recognised Rhonda. The smile on her face became natural and she leaned forward, flattening her palms against the marbled counter.

"Oh, hello Rhonda!" she beamed. "Same place as usual?"

"Not today Mel," Rhonda returned her smile and for a moment, I was stunned. She looked legitimately nice rather than a total raging bitch. "I brought someone this time."

She nodded in my direction. The woman—Mel—glanced at me and cocked a thin eyebrow. "Certainly doesn't look like a Nick."

I frowned, confused. Who the hell was Nick?

And Rhonda's face fell, crumbled like a sheet of paper. Her jacket made a crunching sound at her side before she brought her hands up to hug her laptop to her chest.

"Yeah, um, well, he won't be joining me . . . anytime soon," she cleared her throat awkwardly and kept her stare pinned on Mel.

I raised my eyebrows, feeling the dots connect.

Mel raised her eyebrows as well, the surprise shinning from her face, before crumbling again with pity.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry to hear that hon," she reached across the counter and clasped Rhonda's elbow, offering her a small smile. "C'mon, I'll take you to a spot a little more cheerful."

Heat soaked Rhonda's cheeks. I watched as her gaze darted in my direction before zipping back to Mel in half a second. She gave a half smile, unable to lift the other half of her mouth, and nodded.

Mel came out from behind the counter and led us to a table for two near the window. The plane of glass was large and covered the entire back wall. Sunlight streamed in like gold. Rhonda and I took our seats and Mel stayed holding onto Rhonda's shoulder.

"You want a slice of mudcake?" her eyes were gentle. "It'd be on the house."

"No, thank you," and when Rhonda looked up at her, the mortification wasn't distinct. Her smile was small but there, and sweet like honey. "I'm okay, Mel."

Her eyes flashed to me again, smile twitching, and immediately I understood that she was saying this because I was there. She didn't want to be pitied, especially in front of me.

It didn't offend me. I understood. I would've felt exactly the same way—which was weird to admit.

Mel eased a nod, pressing her lips together, then turned to me with a friendly smile. "How about you, hon?"

I blinked, not used to being called that, but shook my head. "Um, no, I'm good, thanks."

Well, technically.

I was a little hungry but only a little. And I didn't want to bother them by ordering a free mudcake. Or maybe it wasn't even free. For me at least. The offer had been made to Rhonda, so maybe it was only to Rhonda. I didn't know them—Mel, after all. If I said yes, I would then have to pay for it. Which I couldn't afford at the moment; this place was already pricey. I didn't even want to peek at what the chocolate cakes cost.

I forced a smile to cover up my panicking thoughts, but it felt too twisted and awkward to appear natural.

"Okay, well, it's pretty packed so it might be a little longer until you're served," Mel thankfully chose to ignore how weird I looked and gestured around the place with her shoulder. "I have to get back, so unfortunately I can't serve you both."

Rhonda smiled. "It's okay, we've got work to do anyway. Take your time."

Again, I was shocked. When she was talking to Mel, Rhonda's voice softened dramatically. Had I not known her before I actually would've assumed she was a nice person.

Mel gave her one more grin coupled with a wink, then turned on her heel and headed back to the counter. We were left in an awkward silence, and I swallowed, turning back to Rhonda and clearing my throat.

"So, uh, was that why you wanted to get out today?"

Rhonda rolled her eyes and placed her laptop onto the table. "Not important, meathead."

The fuck? I growled. Well, that was the last time I tried being nice to her.

She had been opening her laptop when she heard my growl and, looking up, her eyebrows knitted together. She scanned my face a few times, confused at my reaction, and opened her mouth when suddenly a younger waitress approached us.

Startled, I reeled back. That was quick.

"Have you both decided on what you would like?" she asked in a low voice, which was surprising considering her stature. She clicked her pen, tapping it to her notebook, and glanced at us through her lashes.

"Mm, an iced caramel macchiato," Rhonda decided without glancing at the menu.

Nodding, the waitress jotted it down. Her silver blonde hair bobbed with her movements. It was so bright that the sun rebounded from the strands, giving her an almost incandescent glow.

She then glanced at me, but before I could answer, a weird feeling went through me. It was ice cold, clawing at my chest and up my throat, causing spindly shivers to run down my spine.

I blinked, feeling my face move into a confused frown, and pondered on the feeling. It was like something had struck me, wrapping around my ribs and pumping, beating with this urge to just . . . move.

I glanced up and scrutinised the waitress.

She was small, fine boned like an elf, and had angular shoulders. Her hair was pale and styled in a sharp bob with bangs that shimmered like pieces of glass in the sun.

I swallowed, feeling like there was a pit in the centre of my chest. I couldn't pinpoint what it was about her, but there was definitely something off.

I felt a sharp kick to my ankle.

I cried out then and then looked to Rhonda, who was scowling at me. Her eyebrows twitched as she fixed me with a jagged smile. "Helga?"

I pressed my lips together and felt that sharp urge to hit her rise again. It would probably ruin our chances of finishing the assignment, but man was it tempting.

I turned back before I could think more on it, glancing at the menu and picking the first thing I saw. "I'll—umm, just a ham and cheese sandwich."

Rhonda scoffed and when I peeked up at her through my hair, she had sat back in her seat to cross her arms. I rolled my eyes, feeling the anger tighten and twist into a cord at the back of my throat.

She was such a princess.

The waitress nodded, unaffected with the tension, and scribbled it down.

"Okay, shouldn't be long," she said, taking both of our menus. She didn't make eye contact, but I noticed her lips twitch slightly when she took mine. I frowned, unsure of what that meant, but she swished around before I could get another read.

"What the hell was that?"

I huffed. Not even a second had passed before Rhonda had turned to hound me.

"Nothing, I just—" I looked back again in the direction the waitress had left, but she had already reached the kitchen doors. I sighed. "Have you seen her here before?"

Rhonda paused, not expecting that, but glanced in the same direction.

"No, she must be new," she said with a slight frown, like she'd only just realised it, but then she shook her head and turned back to me. "But can you keep your weirdness to yourself? People know me here."

I rolled my eyes. This woman was as deep as a puddle.

Rhonda held my gaze before snatching and opening her laptop. "Okay, let's just get this over with."

And so, as the sun climbed across the pale sky—turning it from white to blue—the pair of us worked together on the story. Which was a nightmare by the way. It was just the two of us, crowded around one computer, which of course, because it was Rhonda's, gave her an even stronger sense of self-importance.

"That's not how you spell colour!"

"It is if you're American, princess!"

"Well, it's my laptop, meathead, and therefore this is how we spell it!"

The air rapidly heated up and sunlight moved over our faces. Shadows curved around Rhonda's cheekbones and the gloss along her lips shone. My hands were slick with sweat, wrapped up in two thick layers, and I itched to take them off. Obviously, I couldn't, but eventually we both decided to shed our jackets; it was much too hot to keep ourselves layered. But as I twisted around in my seat to fold my jacket and sweatshirt over the back, I caught Rhonda staring at my shirt with a slight frown.

"What?"

"For once, you don't look like a total fashion disaster, Pataki."

". . . erm—"

What was I supposed to say to that?

"Oh, and without your hair in those awful pigtails, you actually look your age," she added, wrinkling her nose. "Hopefully you can start acting it sometime soon."

"Shut up, Rhonda."

Surprisingly, our task became easier when we got to the characters. Eventually, we settled on giving the women their character names. Adeline for the wife and Helene for the servant. Helene coped with her burdens through alcohol, and Adeline was still a teenager. Her willingness to fall in love was the reason she married someone she had just met and blindly accepted most of his faults.

It all felt like a rush and I didn't know whether it was because of the heat sinking into my pores or the way we seemed to be on similar pages at this point.

It almost surprised me when our orders were served to us.

"So, how's this supposed to end anyways?" I asked between bites.

"Hopefully with an A," Rhonda shrugged, rolling the paper straw between her fingers. "If I have anything to say about it at least."

I ignored the dig, well used to them by now. "No, I meant the story."

Surprisingly, we hadn't even discussed it yet.

Rhonda shrugged.

"Dunno, maybe they can both vow to help other women," she suggested. "Or maybe Adeline can become a badass lady with Blue Beard's money."

I was nodding along when a thought occurred to me. My eyes widened and I sat up straight in my chair, plopping my sandwich onto my plate, I noted how Rhonda's eyes bobbed at my movement.

"Why not both?" I said with a snap of my fingers. "Helene goes out to help others while Adeline stays behind to become the lady of the house."

"That sounds kinda sad," Rhonda glanced down with a slight frown. "So they both split up in the end? What about all of that teamwork?"

"I don't think that's where their arcs lead them," I explained, and when Rhonda looked up, I leaned forward. "I mean, take Helene for instance. She starts off completely afraid; she's under the rule of a man who's in total control. He has the financial power to kill her if she sets one foot out of line and she has to keep it to herself that he's killed his previous wives. She's waiting for the law to step in, and knowing that will never happen, her only way to escape it all is through her drinking. Her whole thing is learning to stand up for someone else— breaking out of her box and believing in herself. She's been pretty much held captive this entire time. I totally think she'd take this chance to go out to explore the world and help other women to redeem herself."

"And Adeline starts off in love with the idea of love," Rhonda agreed with a slight nod. "Unrealistically in love. So much that she's almost afraid to be alone."

"If she stays behind, she can have the wives buried, maybe donate a portion of the money to those who are struggling," I continued and I noticed the way Rhonda's gaze lightened as she followed my train of thought. "I think her ending up alone hits harder than if they stay together. She can learn that being alone—or not being romantically attached to someone—isn't as scary as she thinks. She can use her new resources to prevent things like this from happening again. They're both just so different, I think they'd want something different outta life."

Rhonda nodded. "Huh, that may be the smartest thing you've said today, meathead."

I was on the verge of retorting when a violent scream lodged itself in my mind, so violently that I flew forward to cover my ears. The sound was like a piece of glass tearing its way down my scalp, leaving behind a trail of fire.

I squeezed my eyes shut, finding the light painful, and I muffled a groan. Fuck, shit—now?

"Uh," I heard Rhonda pause and glanced up with a wince. She was staring at me with bemusement. Leaning back in her chair, she held her hand up to her chest. "You alright?"

"No, I—I just remembered! That I . . . I have something to do!" Every word echoed painfully in my brain. I pulled out my wallet and slapped down what looked to be enough. "I've gotta go."

"Oh, no," Rhonda scowled, crossing her arms. "You're not ditching me again."

"Sorry princess, I don't make the rules."

The pain was crushing me at this point. My pulse echoed so violently in my temples they felt like punches.

I jumped to my feet, fingers twitching to pull my pin out as I swung my bag onto my shoulder. I glanced in her direction but didn't make eye contact. Instead, I yanked my jackets from the chair.

"Just email me whatever you come up with!" I spun around before she could say anything and stumbled forward, squeezing between the tables as I hurtled down the aisle in search for the door.

And then I slid to a stop.

The café was packed. The throng of people was thick. They were spread out from the counter all the way to the glass doors. I could barely even make out the handles from behind everyone.

I grimaced and swung around in the direction of the bathroom instead. I was oblivious to the pair of eyes following me.

---

Rhonda could not believe this.

Her mouth was pressed into a jagged line, hiding her snarling teeth. The sun burned her neck, normally covered in thick layers of hair, and sweat slipped down her fingers, which were wrapped around the edges of her table.

She watched silently, seething, as Helga—that idiot—dashed away from her without a care in the world. Her nails dug into the table—an action she was sure she'd regret much later. But honestly, she could hardly think of her French tips right now.

The anger she felt was hot. It was simmering, it was bubbling, it was hissing, and she wanted to pour every ounce of it onto Helga's stupid face. She could feel the anger boiling up, climbing up her throat as if it were steam, and like a kettle, she wanted to wrench off the lid and release it all in a high pitched scream.

I don't make the rules—as if! She should've known never to trust this moron. Of course she'd abandon her for a second time, it was only to be expected. It wasn't a surprise that the meathead had failed her first assignment if this was her regular behaviour (and even Rhonda had noticed that Pataki had become increasingly scatter brained over the past two months . . . more than usual, at least). Rhonda should've followed her gut instinct and approached Ms. Hartman after class to either change the pairings or let her work on this alone. She wasn't the greatest writer, but she had a good head and her fair share of books (although she hadn't actually read them, they were more for decoration than anything). She could've made it work.

Rhonda paused, watching as Helga suddenly spun around and booked it for the bathroom instead.

She lifted her chin, watching with narrowed eyes. What the hell? Didn't she say she had to go? As in, leave? Why was she headed there instead of the exit? She made it sound like a 'desperate, can't miss it' kinda thing.

Typical Pataki, Rhonda thought with a roll of her eyes. Always overdramatic over nothing.

Whatever, it didn't matter. Regardless of where it was that Helga was going, Rhonda was pissed. She was pissed and stressed and alone.

She looked around, as if suddenly remembering where she was, and felt the heat climb up her neck and into her cheeks. She was aware of how this must've looked. Sitting here alone, with a half finished meal across from her but no bag in site. It wasn't a hard conclusion to make.

That she, Rhonda Lloyd, had been ditched by, well, that.

It was humiliating.

Thankfully, if anyone had been watching, they'd looked away in time to miss her glare. Good. She could pretend she didn't look so foolish, sitting here in the sun alone, like she had no friends.

Hopefully Mel hadn't seen. Or any of the other employees. She actually knew them.

Regardless she couldn't let this stand—this disrespect. Not without a fight. She'd already had to chase Pataki down once just for today to happen, and she'd be damned if Pataki had found another way to ditch her again.

Rhonda rose to her feet, packing up her laptop and sweeping her jacket onto her arm. It was much too hot to wear it. She could feel sweat starting to slide down her neck and shuddered, grateful that she had decided to tie her hair up today.

She pursed her lips, giving the place one more look, and soon discovered why Helga had made a sharp pivot from the front door to the bathroom. There were much more people than before.

They stood in a clump, so thick it was like she was staring at a wall covered in different shades of woollen coats. It was mostly older people, with the occasional child, and they had thick coats draped over their arms. They pulled at their collars and fanned their faces, some of the women doing quick check ups of their makeups in their mirrors, and Rhonda found herself wondering why they were even here to begin with.

The food was nice, yes, but a cup of coffee wasn't exactly the typical drink one consumed on a day like today.

Not that she could talk, she supposed.

Rhonda frowned and then marched in the direction of the bathrooms. But there were so many of them that Rhonda had to squeeze through the tiny gaps and crevices just to make it to the bathrooms. Which majorly sucked considering how tall she was for her age.

She gritted her teeth, yanking herself free from the space between an elderly couple, and stumbled forward. Her distaste for physical touch had her heart racing, pumping with such discomfort that her chest felt like it would burst. She tried redirecting it all, pouring it all into her hate for the blonde who had put her in this position to begin with. God, why was Pataki so weird? Even as a kid, she was odd. Freakish. Scary, one could say. But she didn't frighten Rhonda. No, Rhonda looked at the blonde and saw her for what she was—a weirdo. Who else would insist on wearing such thick gloves on a day like today? This morning she could understand, but now that the sun was out and painting them all in a summerlike heat? Bizarre.

She thought all of this while feeling the disapproving scowls coming from the old couple, who muttered under their breath, 'rude girl. Kids these days.'

Rhonda rolled her eyes but continued on without another word, dusting her shirt off.

They could call her rude all they wanted, she thought as she slammed the bathroom door open. She was only in this mess because of He—

She froze.

The first thing she noticed was the scent—soft and floral, sinking in so deep she could feel it hitting the back of her throat. Though she preferred scents of spice and heat and wood, this place managed to hold the exact right amount of floral fragrance that allured her without triggering her gag reflex.

The tiles gleamed white and the mirrors and sinks were lined with gold (well, something with the appearance of gold. Clearly, this place couldn't afford actual gold.) The lighting was so unflattering, she always had to suppress the urge to check herself in the mirror in order to avoid another meltdown. But still, this all aside, there was something significant she noticed that was missing.

Pataki.

Rhonda blinked, hand lightly running down the door until it fell to her side. What the . . .

She then moved, pulling her jacket to her chest, and checked every one of the stalls. They were all open, which made her feel silly, but she checked anyway until she was led to the open window at the far wall.

Rhonda had been to this café a fair amount, and every time she was here the window always remained locked. Except for now. It had been opened, shoved high enough that a body could slip through.

Cold air blew across her hot face.

Rhonda growled. Had she—

"Excuse me, miss."

She whirled around, grimacing at the unattractive noise her heels made, and was surprised when she found herself facing the waitress from before. She was small and dainty, like she was made from glass or plaster, and barely came up to Rhonda's shoulders. So Rhonda really had to dip her chin to make eye contact.

But looking at her, Rhonda was taken back by how sinister she appeared. Her pink lips were tilted into a tiny smirk and her dark eyes glinted in a way that made her want to cover her chest.

Still, Rhonda eased a breath and forced a smile.

"Oh, hi," she said, somewhat shakily, and moved her hands to her sides. Despite every instinct telling her to keep them up and out for defence. Self–consciously, she pulled her sleeves down until they were at her fingers. "Um, did you see a girl go in here?"

Because there was no way—no way—that Pataki had escaped through a window to get away from her.

No way.

Pataki was the weird one, not her. Weirdos didn't get to ditch people like her. It was unheard of!

"Can't say I did, miss."

Rhonda paused. What was with this girl? She was talking like she had come straight out of Oliver! Not that she'd seen it, but everyone knew it's most famous line Please sir, may I have some more?, and this girl sounded exactly like that. Why was she so weird?

Whatever. She didn't have time for this.

In a kind of half shrug, Rhonda tried stepping around her, but the waitress quickly moved to the side, blocking her.

"Um, is there something I can help you with?" Rhonda asked, a little snappier now. Because truly, at this point she was well and truly fed up with both the assignment and Pataki in general. At this point, she was more than likely to just complete the assignment and send it in entirely as her own.

Screw Pataki.

"As a matter of fact," the waitress gave a little giggle, which sent shivers down Rhonda's spine. The waitress then held up her hand—a small, pale thing.

And to Rhonda's surprise, lightning cackled from her fingers.

A cold hard dose of panic rose up. She wanted to leave, readying herself to scream loud and clear, when a green light overtook her vision.

And that was all she remembered.

---

The wind cut like a knife.

It lanced sharp across my face, sharp and fresh. My cheeks were burning beneath the cold. Even though I could feel heat racing hot beneath my skin, the wind still swept back my hair so the blonde strands swirled around me. Tears popped into my eyes. They were so thick I could barely see.

Another gush of wind hurled over me, but I welcomed it, feeling it spin little dizzying fantasies over my hands. It was so relieving to no longer be wearing those gloves or bandages again. It felt like I hadn't felt the wind in years. Not to mention the lack of bruising, or even sensitivity—I could do whatever I wanted without feeling a throbbing pang.

But that all took backseat to the screams that raked through my mind. Blood pulsed and roared in my ears. I could feel my mind pumping, hard and fast. There was a burning in the centre of my chest. It made my breath shallow and dampened the pits underneath my arms. A heartbeat pounded in my knees. But I didn't stop.

I pushed even harder until I felt my knees buckle. I was coming to the end of a roof and there was a massive gap between where it ended and the next one started. My heart raced, but I didn't stop. I flung my arm up in a circular motion. The wire cut like an arrow through the golden sky, and the next thing I knew, I was soaring.

Howling surrounded me. The wind slammed hard into my chest. My teeth gnashed together as I blinked against the wetness and searched the grounds.

Until I found them.

Static replaced the screams. I gave a small snarl then disconnected my wire. I tucked my knees to my chin, doing a flip, and felt the air twist around me until I landed perfectly beside Lark.

"Hey, Red," I panted and held up my fists, which now glimmered with blue flares.

Lark wasn't startled by my appearance. She barely even glanced at me; just gave a slight nod in acknowledgement and kept her expression frozen sharp. Her attention was drilled on the Mutants that surrounded us.

"Hey, Blue," she said, copper hair bobbing with her nod.

She pressed her back to mine. The pair of us straightened and scanned the monsters that circled us.

They had chosen a corner on Florence Avenue today, the western side of Hillwood. The cusp between the city and the residential area. The last of the shops were crammed down here, like they were last minute additions, and around the corner was a steep staircase to another park.

The sunlight came down in shades of amber, turning everything pink, and the Mutants came out from grey shadows. They were all similar looking this time; they all had hairy lower halves, with hooved feet and arched legs that reminded me of goats, above which were their muscularly pale bodies that almost resembled men. They had long horns that came out in spirals, and milky blue eyes that shone like diamonds. And when they snarled, the crack of sounds gave me a start.

I swallowed and swept my gaze over them to quickly count. One, two, three . . . seven.

One, I noted, was bigger than all of them, with a tail thick like a tree trunk. It stood the furthest away and, unlike the smaller ones, didn't make any moves for us.

"How was the assignment?" Lark asked in a somewhat rugged voice. She shifted against my back, and I felt the air make a whoosh! noise as she took out her rod, extending it out with a fierce swipe.

"Don't ask," I responded with a quiet groan. It was the last thing I wanted to think about right now.

We then ducked, splitting apart in opposite directions when a large fist came down on us. There was a sickening thud that made me stop. I pivoted sharp on my heels, turning back around to meet the Mutant's gaze. It was glaring at me. It hadn't straightened yet—half a second had passed—and beneath its fists, cracks speared out in zig zags across the concrete.

My fingers twitched, ready to pull my knife, when Lark suddenly raced forward and leapt onto the creature's back. Her weight threw the creature off balance, head almost smacking against the concrete, and the monster roared, swinging around. Lark gritted her teeth and tightened her hold with her thighs, which were wrapped around the back of its neck. She had her rod in both hands, twisting then splitting it into two halves, so she could run one of them into the Mutant's neck.

There was a squelching noise. Hot blood soaked her blade and spurted onto her chin. Lark's face crumbled into a frown before she shot out a wire, kicking off to swing into the air.

She soared like a bird, hair flapping around like fire, then slammed her feet into another Mutant's face, causing it to reel backwards into another Mutant.

One.

Threads of blue surged down my arms, beneath my skin, and pounded like heartbeats. My fingers twitched, ready to use it, but I bent down instead to swipe my knife from my boot. There was a dizzying feeling still in my head, still trying to get used to the rush of events that had led me here, and the knife was comforting.

I sent it flying. The sun reflected off the metal as it spun, a flashing display of light, before the blade slammed into the closest Mutant. The force jerked the gargling monster back and blood bubbled down its chin.

I swung on my heel and ran. Cold air streamed past me and I pushed a forearm over my head. The forcefield came back and buzzed hot with electricity. The explosion crashed over me like thunder, hurling with such force against my shield that I was almost knocked onto my knees. My hair stuck itself between my teeth and I quickly dug my heels into the ground, pushing back against the booming force.

The hot air curled around the edges of my shield. It splattered over my face, painting it with blonde strands, my braid flopping across my shoulder. The muscles in my neck and shoulders had tensed. I suddenly found it hard to breathe. I looked up and had to blink against the bright lights to find Lark.

"How was yours?!" I heard myself ask her, barely able to make out my own voice over the remnants of the explosion. The joints in my knees and arms were locked. I didn't want to move as the warm air simmered, not until I could no longer feel it drilling into my skin.

"Pretty good actually," I heard her response.

A familiar warmth sung in my ears. I stuck up my palm and caught the knife perfectly between my fingers. Thin buzzes of magic reverberated from the blades and pushed through to my hands. I shook my hands and turned around in time to catch the last of Lark's half shrug.

She had landed in a crouched position, both her hands wrapped around her rods. Her eyes burned from behind the mask, a flashing shade of emerald, and her hair danced around her face. Yet despite that, she kept her tone light and casual, like we were catching up for coffee.

She had her eyes pinned on the Mutant closest to her. It lunged at her, swinging its smoky claws, before spinning around to swing its chunky tail. She became a blur as she ducked and rolled to the side. The attack smashed into the ground and slices of pavement rose up in thick slabs, looking like chunky teeth. Tremors reverberated from the impact and spread out like ripples so strong, I could feel them beneath my feet.

Lark landed in a crouch, knees tucked to her chest, hair falling across her face as she whipped her gaze over her shoulder. Copper swept beneath her chin and over her nose, covering every part of her face except her eyes. They blazed, looking especially vivid against the black mask, and I shuddered. Her sweet disposition had left, leaving behind a very pissed off superhuman.

I would hate to have her as my enemy.

The Mutant's milky gaze battled with hers. Another half second passed and Lark smacked both ends of her rod together clicking them into place before leaping back to her feet.

She raced, turning back into a blur, and I blinked. She whizzed like a breeze and plunged her weapon into the Mutant's back. The Mutant roared and fell to its knee, clutching at its wound.

The rod was lodged between into its shoulder blade, which made Lark press her lips together. Her face stayed perfectly still as she pressed her foot onto the Mutant's back and, with a heave, yanked her weapon free. The noise was almost a crack, and Lark quickly sprinted out of the way as the roaring Mutant swung for her.

She was by my side in an instant. I had to cover my face to protect myself from the wind that hurtled after her.

"We almost finished today actually," I heard her continue as if nothing had happened. I glanced back at her as her bangs rustled over her eyes, and she wiped her chin. "Decided to go for a Princess and the frog retelling."

"Oh," I bobbed my eyebrows. "Your favourite Disney flick, yeah?"

"Eh, that and Pirates of the—" She stopped, eyes widening at something over my shoulder, and she quickly dashed away. The movement happened so fast, I was left dazed, breathless, and had to spin around to keep sight of her.

She sprinted, spinning her rod around her wrists, and a bright beam reflected off the blade at the right end. I watched as she sailed and planted the bladed end onto the ground to heave herself up until she was flipping through the air. My jaw went slack. She became a silhouette, the sun bright behind her, then smashed her feet into a Mutant's shoulders. She shot out her hands, momentarily balancing herself on the collarbones, and before the Mutant could even react, she had shoved the bladed end of her rod into its open mouth.

My jaw almost hit the ground. Sometimes I forgot just how brutal and good Lila was at this whole thing. No wonder her powers revolved around speed.

But then her words registered.

"Wait—already?" I demanded and felt my eyebrows fly up.

Lark didn't answer.

Green blood had painted her face, pasting the tips of her hair to her skin, and she made a small noise of disgust before kicking herself off from the Mutant. She rolled and landed far enough that the explosion wouldn't smack into her. Her fingers wrapped around the length of a parking metre and she used that to swing around and land firmly on the balls of her feet.

Sunlight reflected in the glowing green on her sides, and she wiped her jaw. The Mutant let out a growl, snapping its arms up like wings, before its body combusted into a mix of hot air and dust particles.

Lark turned on the balls of her feet. She used the hand holding onto her rod to cover her face as the wind swept up and over her like an invisible wave. She squeezed her eyes shut as her hair whipped around like a flag, and she stilled herself until it had passed over her.

When it had all settled, she dropped her hand and looked up, turning back to answer me when her eyes suddenly widened.

"Look out!"

The hairs on my neck stood straight.

I swung around in time to catch the giant fist that smashed into my cheek. Pain pulsed sharp against my skin. The force sent me tumbling across the pavement. I rolled and rolled and rolled and rolled, the concrete cutting sharp into my skin, until I crashed into something. Pain exploded in my bones but despite that, I could still feel a pair of hands gripping my shoulders from behind.

The world spun. I couldn't feel the floor and my stomach twisted tight. But I focused on the hands, ignoring the burning in my cheek, and slowly turned my face up to Lark's glare.

Through the pain, I forced myself to sheepishly smile.

She rolled her eyes then pulled her rod out from besides her. I heard a raking noise as she dragged it across the ground before she shot it over her shoulder like a javelin.

It snapped into the air and, unsurprisingly, hit its mark. It speared through the Mutant's shoulder with such force that it was slammed into the ground.

"Pay attention, would you?!" Lark barked, although it was slightly muffled because of the Mutant exploding. The heat and air rushed over us, slamming hard into my chest. Lark then let me go and moved to her feet, turning around to drag me back up.

Dizziness slammed into me and I stumbled.

"Sorry," I murmured, and Lark raised a brow before turning to swing out her wire. It latched around her rod, and with a squeeze of her hands, was yanked back into her grasp.

A soft breeze blew sunlight over us, which twisted across Lark's face and sharpened the curves of her jaw and cheekbones. Her expression was hard, but when she turned back to me, her eyes softened as she examined my face. I tilted my chin, unsure of what it was that she saw, but before she could say anything, another Mutant was charging for us.

It let out a noise, roaring like an engine, each step thumping against the gravel, purple shadows slipping over it. Lark huffed, annoyed, but didn't move until the Mutant had gotten close enough that she could thrust her rod down into its leg. The blade punctured its shin with a noise that made me cringe, but I acted quickly.

I lunged forward, pulse hammering in my palms, and leapt into the air. Threads of wind swam over me, burning my skin, and, like Lark, I landed perfectly perched on the Mutant's shoulders. My feet flattened against the dips of its collarbones, and something rushed up my spine to tingle in my muscles.

Everything became a blur.

I gripped the knife. And when the Mutant glanced up, I bared my teeth.

I heaved the knife down until the blade sunk into the Mutant's cheek.

Splashes of blood spurted out and, beneath that, it's milky eyes burned into mine. My stomach twisted. The squishy sound loosened the tightness in my chest, so that it became slick goo. I pressed my lips together so it wouldn't heave up my throat and launched myself off from the Mutant's shoulders. The wires hissed as I swung through the sky. I swung around, sunlight burning my vision, and flipped until I landed on the balls of my feet.

But it was with a violent thud that had my heart stopping for a moment. I almost collapsed, feeling the brunt of the impact in my knees, and quickly shot out my hand to grab something. My fingers clasped around a metal bar, slanted horizonal, and I glanced over my shoulder. The world swirled, honeyed rays mixing with greens and greys, but when I narrowed my eyes I could recognise the steep set of steps. They were decorated with apple stickers, crudely drawn images, and candy wrappers, climbing up the hill that led to the park.

I released a breath, air feeling hot, and turned back around to rest my hip against the railing. My hand locked around my elbow and sweat slid down my face.

I lowered my chin to suck in short and shaky breaths.

Seconds barely passed when rich, sultry air crashed over me. I looked up to Lark standing by my side, hair ruffling in the wind. I yelped and stumbled backwards, and quickly had to catch my balance on the railing before I fell again.

Lark observed this without apology. One side of her mask lifted higher where her brows would be.

I scowled.

"A little warning next time," I growled and stood up straight, like that hadn't just happened.

She gave me a half lidded look, less then impressed, and turned back around. I followed her gaze and watched as the Mutant disintegrated into dust particles that dispersed in the hot swirling air. Thankfully, we were far enough that we didn't feel it, and Lark quickly turned back to me.

"Did something happen?" she asked and leaned forward against the railing. Shadows played across her face and her eyes sparkled with concern.

Immediately, I knew what she was referring to and glanced down, the words twisting in my throat. I sighed and tapped my palms against the railings.

"No, it's just—"

I was cut off when a hollering noise cut through the air. We swung around in it's direction where a Mutant was stampeding toward us. I grimaced. Of course, it was the biggest one out of all of them. It stood so tall that it could easily peer into the second floor windows of the surrounding buildings.

Lucky last, I thought to myself, noting the emptiness of everything else.

It roared again, which made my heart seize in my chest, and I quickly snatched my hands from the railings.

Lark however didn't so much as flinch. Her face hardened, turning pale and matte, and her eyes became steady. She slowly turned, sliding her feet apart, and whipped out her rod like it were a sword. If even a small part of her felt afraid, not an ounce of it made itself known through her face.

I copied her movements, turning around and clamping my jaw tight. The knife was back between my fingers, twirling like magic, and my heart raced from that heat that ran up my arms.

"It's just I wish mine were as easy as yours is," I continued without glancing in Lark's direction.

But she didn't have time to turn back to me. The Mutant had already crossed the length of the street, and when it approached us, it let out a gargling growl as it swung. I ducked beneath the fist while Lark swivelled out of the way like a fierce ballerina. The Mutant's fist shot forward, straight into the railing, which rattled from the impact. The Monster cried out, and the noise that came form its throat cracked like thunder.

"Your guy sounds much easier to work with then her," I shuddered just thinking about it, and moved backwards until I was safely behind the Mutant.

"Hector would be his name," Lark stressed and met my gaze from her position. She was stood on the other side of the Mutant, opposite of me, and had her rod clamped tight in her hands. Her eyes flashed. "And Rhonda isn't that bad."

"Easy for you to say."

I swung my free hand, and my wire shot out to wrap around the Mutant's wrist. It let out another fierce growl. Seeing that it was restrained, Lark acted quick and sent the bladed end of her rod into its arm. The Mutant shouted. Our weapons were quickly yanked free and our wires raced like bullets in the air. They carried us across the sky until we were safely nestled on top of one of the buildings that overlooked everything.

Soft air rolled across our faces as we watched, standing inches from each other. It shivered, rimmed with rays of gold, and as it did, the Mutant exploded. The blast seared the air with particles and anguished echoes. A shuddering noise surrounded us.

We stood there for a moment, letting everything sink in. The thick cords that had burned in my muscles, like hot wire, suddenly dissipated. The knife clattered to the ground seconds before I collapsed to my knees. Heat muffled my skin, I could feel sweat sliding down my face, and the exhaustion made the world swim.

I sucked in several breaths and moved back to drape the inside of my elbows over my knees. The back of my neck was burned, buried beneath the thick tousles of hair. Blood pumped and roasted my skin, but I sighed when the breeze became cool again. I tipped my head back and felt my hair float, like ghostly curtains, and distracted myself by observing the sky.

The orange had darkened, it almost appeared purple as clouds curled together in soft tufts. The sun was white, a fleeting light slowly sinking beneath the horizon, and the air was crisp.

There was a sound beside me and when I looked, Lark had thrusted her rod into the ground. It stood tall, slanted vertically, and she leaned her weight against it. Her eyes were trained on the sky, glistening in the sunlight, and she swiped back her bangs to wipe her forehead. The exhaustion dragged her features like claws, but when she glanced down in my direction, her expression shifted.

I grimaced, recognising the look on her face. She wanted to continue listening to my story.

Ugh, I was still feeling lightheaded, reminding myself about her was the last thing I wanted right now. But I opened my mouth to answer anyway—

Helga! Lila!

—when another voice cut through.

Nel! Lark blinked, the top of her mask moving with her brows, and she looked across the horizon. She touched her forehead like she had an earpiece on. What is it?

A fuzziness filled my head, warm and soft, like a marshmallow.

It's Rhonda! Nel's reply was instant and my stomach curdled. She's been captured!

What?! I was on my feet instantly. By a Mutant?

Yes!

But how? Lark and I both asked, and when we looked at each other, it was with equally concerned looks.

It was the waitress at the café you both went to!

I didn't even need to think about it, I knew exactly who she was referring to. The waitress' face filled my mind, white and delicate looking, but her eyes burned with something that made my chest clench.

I knew there was something weird about he—wait, how did you know about the waitress?

I followed you both.

WHAT?! I exploded, ignoring how Lark cringed and clutched the sides of her face. Why?!

My face boiled hot, and as if in response, another cool breeze flew past us.

Does it matter? Lark scowled at me. Her telepathic voice was tight with impatience as she pressed her lips together. Where is she, Nel?

A place called the Wonderworld!

I gasped, outraged.

That . . . actually, that I hadn't been expecting. And neither had Lark, judging from the look on her face.

"The old amusement park?" I repeated, this time out loud, and glancing questioningly at Lark. As if to check if I'd heard that correctly. Wonderworld—it was just so random.

She pulled a face, slightly shaking her head, but shrugged. We'll be there, Nel.

Right.

And with that, the fuzziness faded, and Nel's presence left us.

Air rushed to fill the sudden void.

I glanced up at Lark, uncrossing my legs. "Why does it want Rhonda?"

"Not sure," Lark shrugged, but her face shone with concern. She turned and yanked her rod from the ground with a small crack! then looked over her shoulder. Hair flapped around her face, but her eyes met mine, sharp. "Possibly bait."

Anxiety rushed down my throat and a chill swept over me.

Bait.

I glanced at the sky. The sunrays stretched, shimmering, and splattering across the clouds like hands, desperately trying to claw out from the horizon and back into the sky.

I swallowed.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

---

It was night when we finally arrived.

The clouds had thickened. They looped around the moon, in a rolling motion that reminded me of balls of cotton. Their edges glowed, thick canopies fringed with silver, as small strands of moonlight broke through and lit the park like a ghostly scene.

I was searching for Nel when she had slunk out from the shadows, scaring the living daylights out of me. She had rolled her eyes and, without an apology, led us inside. It wasn't hard to get through the gates. They were tall, iron black rods that were fashioned to look like teeth. They came up from the ground underneath an arch, which had been designed to resemble a giant clown's open mouth.

The gate had been closed for so long, it only took one smack from my forcefield for the chain to unravel and crash to the ground.

Silence overtook us as Nel led us down the Avenue. The air felt sharp like needles and shivers rolled down my back, pulling goosebumps from my skin. I clutched onto my shoulders.

Wonderworld—or the Wonder park, as we used to call it—had been shut for years now. Apparently, there'd been too many accidents. Kids falling from their seats or unsafe rides not being taken seriously—that kind of thing. But no one had figured out exactly what to do with the park, even now. So, we were left with this old and creepy carnival site, which had only gotten scarier with time.

Nel broke the silence. "Keep your eyes peeled, girls."

The lights around us were dim, mostly filtering in from the sky. It was hard to make out much of Nel, save for a faint outline and, when she looked in our direction, her bright eyes. I alternated looking between her and the Avenue, trying my best not to trip over her.

Lark nodded, glancing around.

My eyes then caught onto a particular sight.

The hall of clowns.

I gulped.

It had been years, but I could never forget a place like that.

It was locked behind two large doors with its name written in gleaming silver. I'd only been inside once but that was more than enough in my humble opinion. Supposedly it had been opened in the late 80s after Stephen King's It had become a hit, and since then, they'd sought out to replicate every clown in any major Hollywood horror movie. Interesting as a concept, but their replications were very on point, so a lot of parents ended up leaving with their crying kids wailing in their arms.

I wasn't one of the crying kids—that likely would've just encouraged Bob to keep me in there to 'teach me a lesson' or whatever—but I was definitely traumatised from it. They were clowns for fuck's sake. Who even liked clowns anyway?

"This place gives me the creeps," I murmured to myself.

I felt Lark looking at me and when I turned to meet her gaze, I did it with a crooked smile. Like the scariest site known to man wasn't standing feet away from me. She rolled her eyes, amusement quirking her lips into a small smile, then glanced back at Nel.

"So, where is the Mutant?" she asked.

"I don't know," Nel answered, eyes locked ahead. "It hasn't shown up yet."

I bit down on my tongue, the jitteriness quickly turning into annoyance. If it could just come outta hiding and fight us, that would be lovely. Or even better, if it could just release Rhonda so we could get the fuck outta here, that would be even better.

I hated it here.

The Avenue came to an end when we reached the Wonder Wheel. The trail pooled out into a wider area that was caged in with shadowed stalls that had been stripped bare. The Wonder Wheel stood on the south end of the park and was, by far, it's most famous exhibit. Even now, it was a sight to behold. It was fourteen stories high, sparkling and bright, and as the moon clawed through the clouds, its silhouette stood proud.

We came to a sharp stop.

Not because of the structure but, well . . . we'd spotted her.

Rhonda.

She was tied up. Unsurprisingly. And hanging from the Wonder Wheel, fastened to one of the spokes. Her wrists were crossed over one another, arms held above her head. She no longer wore her green jacket, leaving her only in black, and her hair had fallen from its ponytail and around her shoulders.

Narrowing my sight, I realised that she was still awake. Although she had seemed to give up on looking around for any method of escape or help. But taking the sight in, and despite the seriousness of the situation, I had to cover my mouth to stop myself from laughing.

Nel scowled at me. "Stay alert."

And I ignored her.

"Oh, this is gonna be a treat," I cackled to myself, rubbing my hands together, and moved forward. "C'mon, Lark."

I could hear the frown in her voice. "But Blue Jay—"

"Come on."

She rolled her eyes but followed.

The two of us stepped out from the shadows, but Nel stayed hidden, watching from the sidelines. Light dripped down the spokes, poking through like needles, and as I got closer, I began to realise that Rhonda hadn't actually given up on trying to escape. Her face was scrunched into a scowl as she struggled against her bonds. Her feet were pressed against one of the spokes below her, almost like she was trying to stabilise herself, as she tried wiggling her wrists.

She was so wrapped up in her plan that she didn't even notice our presence.

So, Lark cleared her throat.

Rhonda stopped, glancing in our direction. Her eyes popped wide open when she realised it was us, her jaw going slack, and I almost fell over laughing.

"Do not worry, Rhonda!" Lark said with a dorky grin on her face. Her hands were on her hips, chin lifted and shoulders pushed back, which made me roll my eyes. The amusement dried up really quickly and, in comparison, I crossed my arms and pressed my lips into a line. "We've come to rescue you!"

Oy vey.

"Well, it's about time!" Rhonda shouted haughtily. Her earlier shock vanished, face fixing itself into that classic pointed glare that flared like a red light. "I've been hanging up here for close to an hour! My arms are tired, and these bars are still wet from this morning—they're ruining my shirt!"

Criminy, did we have to rescue her?

"Oh, and do not even get me started on my jacket! I demand that you get me down from here and find it! It's worth much more then either of you can imagine!"

Jesus Christ.

My hands tightened into shaking fists. I could barely suppress the anger that pumped thick in my veins. I moved forward when Lark quickly snapped her hand towards me, blocking me from moving. I stopped, looking at her, and met the sternness in her eyes. She then turned her hand palm up, wiggling her fingers, and raised her eyebrows—expectedly.

I rolled my eyes, understanding what it was that she wanted. I held out my arm, feeling the warmth pulse in my temples as the blade flashed into my hand, and handed my weapon to her with a roll of my eyes. She nodded, grateful, and, crouching down, leapt with such a force that a barrel of wind spiralled after her. She shot into the air and landed close to Rhonda, threading her arms through the spokes and planting her feet firmly so she wouldn't fall. But the movement made them shake a little which prompted a scream from Rhonda.

"Hey—watch it!" she glared at the redhead.

I rolled my eyes. The Mutant couldn't have gagged her?

Lark muttered an apology, not particularly genuine, and reached over to begin sawing through the rope around her wrists with my knife.

Rhonda huffed and glanced down when her eyes locked with mine. "Well, what took you so long anyway?"

I scoffed.

"Oh, excuse me princess, we had to run from Hillwood just to save your sorry pompous ass!" I snapped. "A little thanks would be nice!"

Let me remind you that normally the distance from Hillwood to the Wonder Park was forty–five minutes long. We had only been able to make it as fast as we had because, well, Lark so happened to have the power of speed on her side. And even then, it had been ten minutes of nonstop running with me on her back. It was obviously tiring but she had powered on because she was a Guardian and little miss dumbass over here had gotten herself kidnapped.

"Pompous? Pompous?"

Of course, Rhonda would only focus on that part.

Lark paused to throw me a pointed glance over her shoulder. But, unlucky for her, I was just getting started.

"Yes, and not to mention ungrateful," I continued and checked the points off with my fingers, "and materialistic, superficial and—oh, bossy."

"EXCUSE ME? Where the hell do you get off? You don't even know me!"

"Er, excuse my partner," Lark quickly stepped in (figuratively speaking, of course), seeing how I was about to answer that. Rhonda cut her glare in Lark's direction, but the redhead remained calm and apologetic. It was weird to see Lila's presence through Lark's masked face. "She's a little high strung."

High strung? Unimpressed, I lifted a brow.

"Well, how dare you!" Rhonda yelled and looked between us. "I may be spoilt but at least I'm not stupid enough to walk into a trap!"

That made Lark and I freeze.

"What?!"

A whistling noise pushed from the left. I went to turn when something hard knocked into me. It snapped around my arms, pinning them to my sides, and flew with such a force that I was sent to the ground.

I fell to my knees first then rolled forward until my nose rammed into the dirt. Darkness clouded my vision. Voices moved in and out like the tide. They called my name. I wanted to call back, but I couldn't.

All I could do was scream.

The pain—it was insane.

My brain stuttered. All I could see was light—blinding, white, hot light. Jagged flashes crossed my vision. They came from the metal band. The one wrapped around me. Spears of light, zapping, crackling, they pierced like thousands of needles. They made the blood in my ears scream; I could feel my head spinning. My skin was burning.

An intense wave of heat was coming from the band. It scattered like crackling embers, and spasms of what felt like invisible flames seared through my body. Sparks of lightning rioted from the metal, cackling in zaps that had goosebumps lining up like soldiers on my skin. The lightning was thick and sizzled, coating my face in sweat, and in comparison, it made the ground feel like ice.

The breath had halted in my body. It was seated uncomfortably in my stomach. I forced myself to roll onto my side until my cheek was pressed into the dirt. Hair had moved to expose the curve of my neck. I looked up—Lark and Rhonda watched with horror.

Lark reacted quicker. Closing her mouth, she readied herself to jump to my side when another similar looking band slammed into her from the left. It snapped around her arms and knocked her from the wheel. Rhonda watched with wide eyes as the redheaded Guardian dropped down from beside her.

The knife clattered from Lark's fingers, hitting each of the spokes on the way to the ground. I blinked against the water in my eyes, tried to follow Lark's movements, but when she landed, it sent dirt into my face.

I hacked, trying to shake the particles and hair from my eyes so I could look in her direction. She lay in a clump, square on her stomach with her face scrunched with pain, and lightning cackled from the metal wrapped around her. Dust curled from around her body like thin whisps of smoke, swept up with the wind that had suddenly appeared, and random spasms ran down her limbs.

Flashes continued to burn my eyes. I blinked against the blotches, wanting to call out to her, but a throbbing had rushed up my throat. I couldn't talk. Pain swept up my mind and twisted it until it spun, singeing the tips of my ears until they felt like they were on fire.

I heard a whimper and when I opened my eyes—I hadn't realised they'd even shut—electricity rioted up Lark's body in yellow sparks. They snapped against the wind, I could feel them nip against my skin, and Lark thrashed in an attempt to free herself.

I knew there was no point to it, but my brain felt like it was rubbed raw of ideas, so I copied her movements. Wiggling, kicking out my legs to maybe loosen the metal wrapped around me. But the more I did it, the more those flashes came back. They seared my body, increasing in waves until my muscles had clamped like stone. The pain came back in waves, each one brighter and hotter than the last, and as it did, I began to feel more and more exhausted.

The world blurred, pooling in front of my eyes to become one colour, and my eyelids began to slip close. My stomach sunk, like it was an anchor, and planted itself firmly against my skin, pressed up to the ground. My vision soaked itself into darkness. My muscles became heavier, dragging my bones down until they had collapsed onto the shuddering dirt.

"That's right!"

The shrill cry was glass to my ears. I knew it meant danger, but fog had overtaken my brain. It filled me up with a shuddering pulse, made it hard to feel anything but nausea. Still, I fought against it. I tried focusing on the warm beating in my ribs and peeked through the thin gap between my lids.

I spotted where it had come from easily.

It was a Mutant.

The Mutant.

It stood on top of the Wonder Wheel, feet planted firmly on the rims. It had its hands outstretched towards the night sky, skin green and cracked, as its long hair floated above its head like a white flame.

The eyes were so black. They looked like graters with their smoky edges and deeply sunken appearance, and they were pinned down at us in delight.

"Keep struggling!" she cackled, in a voice that felt like fire in my ears. "The more you fight, the more energy I drain!"

Its fingers resembled claws, curled and stretching for the sky, and a huge gust of wind crashed over us. It roared, resembling thunder, and began to twist violently until it had formed into a thick column. The trees that caged the area creaked, wooden boards from the stalls groaned, and a combination of dust and dirt whipped into the air.

I could no longer hear the Mutant.

I blinked against the wind and my hair, and watched as bright lights flickered from the column. They pulsed, flashing from green to yellow to white then back to lime green, and dark hues in the sky bubbled. Threads of silver swirled like the edges of a spiral, forming into a whirlpool that rolled with the wind, spinning above the column.

A choked feeling suddenly overtook me and I gasped, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe despite being surrounded by air. Tendrils of hair were pushed from my face, exposing my skin to the cold, and dirt smacked into my cheek.

"Shit!" I croaked when the band flashed with another electric bolt. I doubled over, feeling my fingers sink into the dirt as a rush of fire filled my veins. The world slipped back and forth like it was made of butter, and my stomach followed.

"Blue Jay!" I heard a cracked scream.

The gasp that rippled through me went down to my stomach, and I glanced up at Rhonda. She was too far for me to make out her face, but I could see her struggling against her bonds. And by the way her chin was tilted, I knew that she was glancing between Lark and I.

"Rhonda!" Lark shouted through her teeth. Sweat coated her face, soaking the dirt beneath her cheek, and strands of hair hurled into her eyes. "Get out of here!"

"I can't!"

"You can," a deep voice said from behind her.

Rhonda paused then glanced down and found herself staring at Nel. The black cat was perched in the centre of the wheel, neither bothered by the height nor wind. Her gaze was piercing, holding onto Rhonda's like metal, and her black body was sleek against the lights.

Rhonda gasped. "You can talk!"

Disappointment sank through Nel and she sighed, bowing her head. "Yes . . ."

"What the fuck?! A talking cat!"

"Jesus, not this again," I murmured. But my voice felt too heavy to be mine. The cloudiness in my head had hardened and was much heavier now. It felt like weights, much too dense for my neck to move my head.

"She's definitely one of your friends, Helga," Nel noted.

"Piss off, she's not my friend!"

"Helga?" Rhonda repeated. She blinked, like she was seeing for the first time, and her mouth slackened as she looked between Lark and I again. "Wait—Lila? Is that you guys?!"

Oh, how I wished I could lift my head so I could smack it against the floor.

"Told you I had plans," I snapped.

"Holy shit!"

"Nel, what the hell?!" I ignored Rhonda and glared at the cat instead. "Why'd you tell her?!"

"What the fu—"

"Can we please," Lark's voice gurgled and when I glanced in her direction, half her face was pressed into the ground and caked in dirt, "discuss this afterwards?!"

"Right," Nel's ears folded back and she nodded before turning back to Rhonda. Her hair scraped back and forth around her face and she raised both her eyebrows. "Rhonda, there's no time to explain, just do as I say."

She lifted her paw to draw invisible signs into the air. There was a bright flash of light and I quickly shut my eyes, feeling the flash hit my retinas. Spots flared against my closed lids, stretching into fat lines that began spinning. I slumped, the dizziness making my stomach twist.

I couldn't hear much of what was happening. The storm had grown even louder. It cracked and howled, and it soon became hard to hear anything. I couldn't even hear my own heart, although I could feel it pounding hard against my throat.

"What is that?!"

Rhonda's voice broke through and I opened my eyes to a small light whizzing into her hand. She tried tilting her head back, hair trickling down her neck, to examine what it was but couldn't quite make it out.

I, on the other hand, had already caught on.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" I shouted but the wind came down so strong that I could barely even hear myself. "Her? Of all people!"

I couldn't believe this—Nel had chosen her? Rhonda? As in, Rhonda Wellington Lloyd? Spoilt, rotten to the core and self centred Rhonda?

Nel either didn't hear or chose to ignore me. "Rhonda, repeat after me: My Inner Guardian: Exorior!"

"What is that supposed to—"

"Just do it!" Nel and Lark screamed.

I stared up at them, wanting to scream, to shout, to tell Nel that she was wrong, that she was mistaken, when a weird feeling hit me. It was like my insides had shifted; filled themselves with sand. Their voices rung in my head, ringing hot in my ears before exploding in the centre of my mind. They became heavy, sinking and dragging my thoughts down like nails as heat climbed my neck.

Blackness crept into my vision and pushed against the world until it began to wiggle like a flame. Nausea whirled in me, and I could feel my bones sinking deeper and deeper into the ground. My throat felt like someone had wrapped a hand around my voice box, and I suddenly found it hard to swallow.

It was the metal band.

Everything was coming from that. I could feel the fire pouring over me, could hear the buzzing in my ears. It was draining too much. Everything felt so heavy but wouldn't stop moving. It was swimming, bubbling, flowing all around until it was like I was wrapped in a cocoon. It pressed against my skin, sickly warm, and covered up my face like a slimy blanket.

I suddenly became unsure of everything.

The environment wouldn't stop moving. The ground was twisting. I couldn't see anything. But I could still hear— but not much. The wind was too loud. But beneath all the noise, I could detect Rhonda's voice. It was barely there, but it was still there, although I couldn't make out what it was she was saying.

Spots pierced the darkness. They sizzled holes that went from red to orange to gold, then back to red.

Then, I felt a thud.

It came from besides me. Inches from my face, and a different explosion of air brushed across my face. It had lost some of its sharpness and through the heaviness, I forced my eyes open.

A gasp rose in my chest.

"R–Rhonda?!"

She turned.

I stilled.

The Wonder Wheel beamed behind her, a soft whir of light that pushed her shadow over me. I blinked, now that the lights weren't blinding me, it became easier to make her out.

The first thing I noticed was her hair; Rhonda had always kept her hair the same length her entire life—a short, stylish bob. Timeless, she was always calling it. Something that never went out of style and suited her face perfectly. But now, her hair was long and melted down her shoulders in rivers of mahogany. The top was twisted, pulled back in braids that were pressed flat against her head, but the bottom half was long and ran down her neck.

She looked in my direction in response, and when she did, I realised how much she had changed.

She had a dark red mask slapped over her plump brows. Her cheekbones were high and sharp like glass, and her lips were thick, splitting apart to reveal, white squared teeth. Her eyes were dark, thick with lashes, but they glowed like toned jewels.

Her uniform consisted of a bodice that matched her mask; it had a deeper neckline that reminded me of a halter neck, only the thick shoulder straps stretched, reaching across her collarbones but stopping at the front of her neck. It left her chest exposed, which glimmered in the moonlight. There were gold accents following the hem of her shirt and formed into a golden bird with its wings out at the front of her bust. She had silver vambraces around her wrists and a matching belt wrapped around her waist. Her pants were black, but the boots were darker and reached an inch past her knees, topped with silver that was thick enough to protect her bones from impact.

Her new eyes found mine.

I felt my mouth open—

"AHHHHHH!"

—when another sound roared above us.

I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat, and Rhonda spun around as the Mutant hollered. It had thrown back its head, hair rippling and snapping with its distress, and its voice lashed out like bolts of lightning. And with a snap, it looked down at us with a glare that could slice through stone.

"What is this?!" Its voice ricocheted against the wind and it pointed a sharp finger at Rhonda. "Who are you?!"

Rhonda jumped like she'd been struck and moved her hands up like she was in a shootout. Needles of fire were still shooting through my skin, but through that I frowned. This tall, broad shouldered woman shook like a child, and had begun to edge backwards.

"I–I–I—AHH!"

The back of her feet hooked around my stomach and she fell, crashing on top of me. I cried out when her weight slammed into my chest and her elbow dug in sharp into my stomach. The back of her head smacked into my forehead. Pain flared and I glared at her through her curly strands that had threaded between my teeth.

"Would you get your fat ass off me?!" I screamed and kicked out my legs because, as it was, I was currently restrained and couldn't push this stupid idiot off of me. "I'm trying to breathe here!"

And despite the winds, the thunder, and the distance, I could somehow hear Nel's tired sigh.

"Excuse me, fat?!" Rhonda twisted around to glare at me. Her golden eyes glowed like embers, blazing, and she clamped her squared teeth together. "There's not any part of me that is fa—AHHHH!"

A brilliant shock of white lightning came down from the flashing lights. It forked down, illuminating a pathway, and we both let out cracked screams. Rhonda jumped and scrambled away, kicking tall arcs of dirt as she did. I, on the other hand, rolled out of the way and felt the heat from the blast run up my spine.

I landed on my stomach, heart pounding in my throat, and sat there for a moment as the world swam. Heat pulsed up my back, still resonating from the blast, and I had to clamp my lips together to hold back the bile. Then I slowly rolled onto my shoulder to spit out the mouthful of dirt that Rhonda had kicked onto me.

"Rhonda! Where—"

I stopped when I caught sight of her. She was running—away. The girl Nel had just recruited. She had turned on her heel to dash down the Avenue. Even though we had all come to save her, she was just leaving.

My jaw dropped. "Rhonda, are you serious?!"

There was no response.

Her figure grew smaller and smaller as she moulded into the darkness. The wind had everything flying so she had to duck and weave through the twigs and old flyers that soared her way. She then sharply turned at the corner, disappearing from my view entirely.

I watched the whole thing with wide eyes. Dumbfounded. No, not dumbfounded—numb. The shock that pumped through me was so overwhelming, it beat everything else back until I felt nothing. Even the sharp needles of fire had left, sunk so deep into my subconscious that I couldn't recognise it anymore. There was still a shudder in my bones, but I could feel myself regaining control again, and slowly maneuvered myself onto my knees. There were leftover sparks that cackled at my knees but they had lost their sharpness.

Still, my head swam.

But I ignored all of that to turn to Lark.

"Did—" I gaped at her. "Did she just abandon us?"

Lark, who was on her stomach with her arms pinned to her side, pressed her face into the dirt.

The Mutant cackled. Its wrinkled face split into a wide grin and a flash of lightning struck from behind it. I jumped, startled by the theatrics, as the Mutant descended from its spot on top of the Wonder Wheel.

The winds blasted and roared, wrapping around the Mutant like a net that prevented it from falling. It came down in a torrent of air. The wind twisted in a freezing gust that scattered hair and dirt into our faces, and I had to turn away as the Mutant soared past us.

It didn't even spare us a glance. Which shocked and insulted me—it was like we were old news, no longer worthy of this thing's time. Instead, it just followed after Rhonda, flying down the Avenue in a whirlwind and taking the same turn that she did. Nel squawked and, leaping from spoke to spoke, landed on the ground mere inches from us. But, like the Mutant, Nel didn't glance once in our direction and instead dashed after the pair.

So, Lark and I were left kind of staring after them, even when they had left our view. The breeze raked across our face, pushing more dirt into our lips, and, from a distance, I heard Rhonda squealing.

"What the hell just happened?!" I demanded, snapping my face back in Lark's direction. But this time, I noticed that the action didn't cause tingles to ripple down my body.

Which made me pause and glance down at my arms. I noticed that the sparks had disappeared. And the beat of my heart had grown louder, almost roaring in my chest. At first, I assumed that it was from another spur of panic, but then I noticed the silence.

It loomed over me like a black cloak. And when I glanced up, I caught the lights that burned from above the spinning column winking from existence. The burning flashes disappeared, washing us over in night-time light, and the winds began to fold. They softened until they were nothing more then a light and natural breeze, like it was a regular Saturday night. Darkness laced over.

"Oh, cool," I said, realising what this all meant. "That Mutant is totally distracted right now."

Lark glanced up. Her face was streaked with dirt, the ashy lines ran down her mask like tiny claw marks, and her hair was dishevelled.

"Helga?"

"Yes?"

"HELP ME!"

She shouted it so loudly that I jumped and almost lost my balance. I quickly widened the stance in my knees to keep from falling over but when I glanced back at her, raising my eyebrows in a Are you going to apologise way?, she narrowed her eyes into a burning hot glare.

Geeze, I thought to myself. Touchy.

I let the confusion drop from my face with a roll of my eyes and pushed myself up to my feet. It was difficult without the use of my hands, but still manageable and I stumbled forward to free the both of us. But a wave of dizziness crashed over me, making the world turn into sludge that pooled around my feet until I found myself back on my stomach.

"OH, YOU HAVE TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!"

Of course, screaming like that made my chin hit the ground several times. Which only made me scream even more.

"I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL HER!"

Lark watched the whole thing flatly.

I growled—of course she wasn't helping me—and shook my head to rid myself of the swirling landscape. It still continued to move around like dirty water and I could feel my insides sloshing around in response. I shut my eyes for a moment, sucking in a breath, and clenched my abdomen before rolling over to Lark. She raised her eyebrows, not saying anything as I crawled back onto my knees, and stood over her.

She released a breath, relief shining on her face, and copied my movements.

Our eyes levelled with each other.

"Can you use your forcefields?"

Oh, right!

I scrunched my mouth shut and cut my gaze to the right. I was staring at a shadowed stall, but narrowed my eyes and looked beyond that, focusing on conjuring something—anything. I tried searching, reaching into the darkest depths of my mind for some sense of burning. I wanted to find that magical heat that always buzzed between my eyes seconds before a shield sprang into existence. But my stomach shifted and a weightless feeling lodged into my head, moving around like tentacles.

Nothing appeared.

"No," I sighed and ducked my chin to suck in another breath. My insides felt like they'd rusted. "I'm way too drained."

Lark breathed, the disappointment sinking in her shoulders, but she nodded. "Same."

She lifted one side of her mouth in a silent apology that was supposed to lighten the burden. But then her eyes widened and she gasped. "Wait—your knife! Maybe you can use that!"

"Good idea!" I beamed at her then looked over her shoulder. She had dropped my knife from the Wheel, which shone like a giant star behind her. The knife was easy to spot—the silver glimmered against the dark blades of grass.

I closed my mouth. Scrunched my nose. Focused everything I had onto that blade.

The lightheaded feeling was still there, almost standing as a wall between my thoughts and that magical pull, but it felt a lot flimsier this time round. A warm tide collected at the front of my mind, smashing through that wall to wrap around that magical pull. Electricity ricocheted around in my stomach. I jerked my chin to the side and, like an invisible string had been attached, the knife shot up from the ground. It moved in the blink of an eye, soaring across the ground like it was a flash of lightning, headed in Lark's direction.

Her face fell and with a scream and she quickly scrambled out of the way. She dived onto her stomach with such a force that she was left hacking up small bits of soggy dirt as the knife sailed across and lodged itself into one of the stands behind us.

I grimaced at the thunk! it produced then frowned with outrage.

"Hey, what gives?!" I glared at her. That took a lot of effort to make happen.

She glared back. "I meant on the Mutant, you idiot!"

Oh.

"Right," I turned away as heat pooled in my cheeks. Black pulsed in my vision as I instead focused on opening up the telepathic line. Nel, get Princess Fancy Pants to lead that fucker back here.

Her reply was instant. Righ—

What the hell?! Rhonda's shrill voice suddenly blared loud and both Lark and I flinched. You guys can read my mind now?!

Never in my life had I wanted to face palm more than now.

Rhonda!Lark glanced up at the empty Avenue. Her eyes blazed, a stormy shade of green, before she rolled and heaved herself up onto her knees, jawline tight. You need to lead that Mutant back here!

Lead it back?! Rhonda squawked. I don't even want it following me to begin with!

Just do it! We all shouted.

Fine! But do not go all Edward Cullen on me with your freaky mind tricks!

That made me roll my eyes.

"I'm going to kill Nel," I told Lark once the warmth had faded. She glanced at me, surprised. "What an idiot."

She sighed, for once looking like she agreed with me, and dipped her chin so her bangs curled over her brow.

"A fair assumption," she agreed. "It—"

"Mind tricks are totally a star wars thing."

Wordlessly, she stared at me.

I stared back. "What?"

Eyes now half–lidded, she rose both her eyebrows and went to open her mouth when a loud scream echoed from down the Avenue.

We spun around.

And Rhonda came running back.

Her large form rounded the corner in a streak of red, racing in our direction. Her skin was bronzed, her eyes wide, and as she bolted, the Mutant soared after her like some weird–looking ghost thing. It was a scene that looked like it had been ripped straight from a Scooby Doo cartoon; Rhonda's mouth was stretched wide in an echoing scream, her footsteps loud thuds! as she clawed at the air in front of her. The Mutant's hair billowed behind like a dress caught in the breeze, and it's eyes poured like molten lava into Rhonda's back.

I straightened my back, focusing on that buzzing pull again. The warmth I felt rushed to the forefront of my mind like water, settling between my eyes. I felt rather then saw the knife yanking itself out from the wood and, with a head jerk, had the weapon flying in their direction.

Lark somehow saw it coming before I did. "Move!"

Rhonda's eyes widened. She saw the beam of light reflecting from the hurtling knife, shining in her face like a flashlight. She saw the weapon coming but didn't have reflexes quick enough to do anything about it. I held my breath, ready to pull the knife from her path, when Nel suddenly appeared.

The cat leapt from the darkness and rammed into Rhonda's side with a force that knocked them down in time for the knife to shoot over them. The weapon continued, undeterred, and the Mutant's eyes widened. But it wasn't quick enough; the knife was a bullet and soared right between its eyes, so powerful it knocked the Mutant's head back.

From the ground, Rhonda and Nel both watched as the Mutant fell to its knees. The wind died; the Mutant's hair dropped pin straight, and its hands dropped to its sides. It let out a loud, creaking groan that had my hairs standing on its ends, and when it glanced up, its dark eyes hooked onto mine.

Its body exploded; it ripped apart with a bright heat that blasted out in a shower of golden sparks. The force expanded in a hot sweep of air that picked up Nel and Rhonda. The wind pushed them out, twirling and spinning so fast that they turned into red and black blurs of screams that were hurled down the Avenue.

I blinked. My brain barely was able to catch up with their fast movements before—

SMACK!

—they crashed into me.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

The impact knocked all of us into the open air. Flying, tumbling, nosediving, until another body—Lark—smacked into us. Everything blurred. Screams surrounded me from all direction, and my stomach flipped into a sharp somersault, until the ground came up to crack against my spine.

The air was sucker punched from me. My legs ended up hooked over something squishy that let out a low groan. A considerable weight sat on my chest. I coughed and hacked, searing pain crushing every part of me. My headed blistered and throbbed. I groaned. Everything hurt so bad, I barely even noticed that the metal band had disappeared from my arms.

The air stilled as we collected our breaths. The spinning dizziness hit me, and I groaned as bile hurled up my throat.

A breeze stirred and a chill swept down my spine. My eyes were fluttering shut when I heard a sharp gasp from next to me. Rhonda's head suddenly popped up into my view as she sharply sat up onto her palms. I blinked; her dishevelled hair whipped around her face as her mouth dropped in outrage.

She then scrambled onto her feet. But one of her hands had to dig into my stomach to do that, which prompted a pained gasp from me.

"Wha—what the hell was that?!" she demanded, ignoring my discomfort. Her eyes blazed as she pinned her hands to her hips, clicking her heels together. "What the fuck just happened?!"

And despite all of the dizziness that had slammed into my chest, I found myself standing up besides her.

"I agree!" Anger sparked in my stomach with such a force that it overrode the pain. "What the hell, Nel?! She's the other Guardian?!"

Nel had landed flat on her stomach, in the centre of Lark's spine, and when she glanced up, she appeared offended. She scrambled from Lark and leapt onto the ground, her tail flicking sharp behind her. And Lark, who had been lying beneath my legs before, merely groaned and rested her face onto the dirt again.

"It's not like I choose them," Nel snapped.

"You most certainly do," I crossed my arms. "And you chose wrong—you could've picked anyone but her! Literally anyone! Now we're gonna have to do a mind wipe or something!"

Lark's eyebrows bunched together at that, and she looked up. "Mind wipe? What're you—"

"And what is that," Rhonda whirled around with a hand pressed to her chest, "supposed to mean?!"

Oh, brother.

"You ran away!" I exclaimed, flinging out my arms. "Weren't you going on and on about sisterhood today?!"

"Oh, do not bring up that assignment, you jerk!"

"I'M the jerk?! At least I didn't run away!"

"Actually if I remember correctly," Nel suddenly felt the need to interject. Lark sighed, bangs dipping down to curl around her eyes. She pushed herself from the ground and back onto her feet. "You actually did run away from your fi—MEOWHH!"

Lark was brushing the dirt from her pants when Nel leapt into her arms. She gasped, quickly wounding her hands around the small cat, and twisted around to avoid my swinging fists.

"Butt out, Nel!" I yelled then jerked my arms back to my chest again. "I didn't run away from actual team members, it was totally different!"

"Sounds pretty similar to me," Rhonda noted with a raised eyebrow.

"Why you—"

"Would everyone please stop fighting?!" Lark finally spoke up. Nel quickly leapt from her arms as she moved to stand between Rhonda and I, pushing her hands out to separate us. She glanced between us, the exasperation showing up as a blush in her cheeks and turning her lips into a frown. "There are bigger issues at hand!"

"Yes ladies. Much bigger."

"I said butt out Nel!" I snapped without dragging my glare away from Rhonda. Her eyes were hooked on mine, glaring back just as fiercely, like I'd set fire to her hair. Like she had any reason to be angry at me.

"That . . ." Nel sounded from behind me. "That wasn't me."

Her words didn't register at first.

The three of us stood there, face contorted into glares that were twisted with sweaty looks of exhaustion, when it suddenly hit us.

We froze. I glanced down at Nel in confusion. But when we saw that she was no longer looking at us, that she was staring over our shoulders, we whirled around.

I gasped.

It was Serec.

---

And there we have it, Rhonda's introduction as a Guardian! A lot of y'all were able to correctly guess this from a while ago, I know I could've picked someone more unexpected, but I just love her character so much and her dynamic with Helga is too much like Mars vs. Moon in Sailor Moon, I had to do it!

They weren't as at one another this time around, but yeah, Lark's patience is absolutely about to be tested out (poor girl. Being a Guardian ain't got nothing on this). That being said, Rhonda's powers still haven't been revealed yet, but they will be next chapter. So, if you haven't guessed or wanna make any last minute changes as to what they are, please go ahead! I take delight in knowing that no one's actually guessed them correctly yet 😈 I literally already have a drafted post on my tumblr that explains why they're her powers cause I love them so much.

But anyways! What did you think this time around? I honestly liked this chapter more then the last (even if it's not up to my personal standard) and yay! no breakdowns from Helga this time around 😃 Proud of my girl!

Oh, and yeah, that talk between her and Rhonda in the library, specifically about what constituted as sexism in typical portrayals of women characters . . . yeah, actually something I'm pretty passionate about 😅 I definitely don't think they came across as as strong in comparison to the outlines, but basically Helga and Rhonda both represent the two opposing views in how to approach female representation, and which one constitutes as the more 'empowering'. It's a complicated issue that I won't get into here but I'm more then willing to go into on my tumblr if anyone's curious.

But anyways it's nice to finally include Rhonda in the story more, I think she's a nice contrast to Lila and Helga. Hopefully y'all enjoy her as well! Actually, surprisingly a lot of pepople have already jumped on board with trying to figure out why she is the way she is. I can definitely say a lot of y'all are on the right track, but yeah, we've obviously just introduced her as a major character, so I'll be sure to leave in more hints before actually explaining it (tbh, after Lila, she's probably my favourite in terms of backstory and psychology).

But anyways, onto the reviews!

Rosali Leon Huamani:¡Hola! desafortunadamente, Arnold no regresará hasta después del próximo capítulo (pero una vez que eso suceda, podemos comenzar a construir el romance real 😜) Y en cuanto a Pheebs, tendremos que ver qué sucede. ¡Gracias por la reseña!

Kryten: Ahh, sorry, I just really enjoy writing them 😅 Yeah, I enjoyed the idea of shaking it up a bit and, though Rhonda's call will not be wanted, she will be accepting it. Lila and Helga seeming more like best friends is definitely on me cause I just enjoy writing them more. I just find their friendship so warm and refreshing. Rhonda's problems are barely scrapped in this chapter but yes, she's about to teach the Guardians quite a bit (I love her but girl's a lot to handle). Thanks for your review!

acosta perez jose ramiro: Thank you! Absolutely! I think it's something that, from a logical standpoint, Phoebe's rejection makes total sense, but ethically and emotionally speaking, yeah, it hurts and feels like the ultimate betrayal. Especially considering Phoebe was such a big motivator for Helga in the beginning. Obviously there's no way of her knowing that, but yeah, it really just adds more salt into the wound that Helga is refusing to address. I love how you're able to keep looking at this and identifying how damaging this is for her!

Abby: Ugh, Lila really is becoming my favourite one of the bunch. She's a good combination of not taking your bs but also supporting you when she sees through your lies (which she's very good at). I view Phoebe's reasons as valid, but yeah, Helga is still very, very hurt, and it's going to be coming back. Thanks for reviewing!

miladyswords: I really like your interpretation of her character. And I also really like that you know there's more to her then what meets the eye. There's definitely a lot to her that she keeps beneath the surface, which is going to be so much fun to dissect! Yes, she's very reminent of Sailor Mars, hence why I picked her as a Guardian 😁 It's a total unpopular opinion, but Sailor Mars was one of my favourite characters, and I loved her relationship with Sailor Moon. Their relationship won't be 100% identical (as Rhonda and Rei still are different people, as are Usagi and Helga, even moreso actually), but there are enough similiarities to make me happy. Yes, the Phoebe situation is definitely a situation that is gonna have to be settled, and when it does, it's gonna be very emotional for Helga (but honestly, I think it'll be good for her since I think there are things that can be unhealthy about her friendship with Phoebe). Thanks for reviewing!

Also, I'm such a doof, I totally forgot to announce the fanart I recieved last chapter! It's from Tiffany1567 and depicts a scene from chapter 14 of Helga and Lila! It's gorgeous and you should all really check it out. Anyway, I think that's all I have to say, if not I'll just make a post on tumblr (I'm basically living over there now 😂). Y'all know how to find me if you have any enquiries. Hopefully you enjoyed this part two! Seeya for the next chapter!