“You know, I’m the only member of the student council that remembers this club even existed,” Cassidy muttered, taking a seat between Jane and Rachel. Her arm was in a cast, but otherwise, she looked good as new.

“That’s intentional,” Rachel said, beaming. “We try to keep things low-key. We’re still on club lists and stuff, but we’re always unassuming, skimmed over, and just generally in peripheral perception!”

Cassidy opened her mouth to object, but faltered, probably remembering she wasn’t human anymore. She let her head fall into her hand and mumbled, “I hate it here. What do you guys even do?”

Cami checked the notes app on her phone. Sure, she had the same questions, but she'd been a bit busy. Spent all morning checking her reflection for signs of her nonhuman side: fangs, antennae, mossy fur. Nothing had shown up, but she’d still decided to wear more layers for the time being. Just in case.

The new note on her phone glared up at her, even more useless than she’d remembered it being:

recap things and talk about where we go next because I think everyone’s awakened? Now we work for the fey and vampires or whatever?? I don’t know

Also do your comms homework

Please cami do it

Also start bringing your noise cnacelling headphones everywhere again please we can’t afford to just teleport out of class every time people are loud

Wait this was a schedule for freakspotters

“Well,” Cami said, mostly so the awkward silence didn’t sink its teeth in, "it’s been a stressful time for all of us, so I’ll be real, I’m still figuring stuff out.”

The lab felt smaller than she’d remembered. Too small for what they’d been thrown into. She shrugged off the claustrophobia and went on, “Should we start with, like, organizational stuff? An outline of what meets will look like now that things have…” She trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Changed?” Jane suggested.

Helena snickered. “Understatement of the year.”

Rachel leaned back in her chair, stretching. “I mean, it hasn’t changed as much as it’s, like… become clear. You guys were always gonna be part of this whole thing, whether you knew it or not.”

“That’s reassuring,” Cassidy muttered. “Anyways.” She stood up, bringing a fist down on the table. Wood cracked, and Cami jolted back as splinters flew about, hitting the floor like fresh embers.

Cassidy looked at her hand and the dent beneath it. “Right. I’m… different. Which means I can’t do that anymore.”

“You get used to it,” Olivia said without looking up from her phone. “Anyways, one thing we should all figure out is what our new families want from us. For example, my vamp fam pretty much forced me to move in.”

“Wait, so that means...” Cassidy sank back into her seat. “I’m going to have to work with the people who mauled me?”

And when she put it that way, Cami understood why it was less than appealing. “I mean, they also gave you powers, so that’s something,” she pointed out. “And we’re, like… doing a good thing. I think.” She looked to Rachel for help.

“It’s a great thing!” Rachel agreed, nodding. “Basically, magical beings used to live here, alongside humans. But they were persecuted. So they hid. T-The goal we have here, it’s like… we want to rebuild society to be more welcoming to us again.”

“See? That’s good, right?” Cami asked. She moved to pat Cassidy’s arm, but the other girl flinched back. Cami realized, belatedly, she'd gone for the one in the cast.

“It’s something, alright.” Cassidy brushed the splinters off her sweater. "I’m going to go process things. Alone. Where no one can see me. You guys do what you please, but I’m still coming to terms with no longer being human.”

Olivia scoffed. “We’ve all been there, but we all show up.”

“And shouldn’t a student council member like you have a spotless attendance record?” Helena teased.

“That only counts for things that matter,” Cassidy shot back. She stuck her chin up, channelling some of her old bravado. “You lot can work … unicorn suffrage, or whatever.”

“But unicorns are extinct,” Rachel objected. “They have been, for like… a century, now.”

Cassidy squinted. “You’re joking.”

Cami snickered, glad someone else hadn’t been sure.

“I’d never joke about that kind of thing,” Rachel said. Her face fell, eyes darkening. “My grandmother tells me stories, of the last herd. How local witches did their best, but none ever felt safe enough to bear foals.”

Cassidy gave her a long, withering look. “Alright.” She spun on her heel and threw open the lab door, only to curse out loud and stop in her tracks.

Cami leaned back in her seat to see the commotion: a woman stood in the hall, hands behind her back, an eager grin on her face.

“This is Freakspotters, right?” she asked, cocking her head to the side, like a curious songbird. She had the voice to match, high and lilting. From anyone else, it would’ve come off as mockery, but she oozed sincerity. Oozed it.

“Unfortunately,” Cassidy said. Before the stranger could respond, she pushed past and disappeared down the hall.

“Great,” the stranger said. Undeterred, she sat down where Cassidy had been. With every movement, her long, blue skirts swished, the chains on them jangling. “I suppose I should introduce myself, yes?”

Cami nodded. What else was there to do? She didn’t have a script for a newcomer. Why was there a newcomer? She shot a glance to Rachel, who just shrugged.

“Y-Yeah,” Cami stammered out. “Just, like… your name, your major, and maybe your favourite mythical creature or supernatural phenomenon?”

“Ahhh.” She smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear with long, pale fingers. “Well, my name is Lillian Atwater. I’m studying Fine Arts, and I’d say my favourite phenomenon is the concept of angels.” She giggled, a dreamy look in her eyes. “I mean, isn’t it nice to think there’re beings beyond us that devote themselves wholeheartedly to our lowly mortal forms?”

Cami mulled over these words. Definitely not the answer she’d expected, but she hadn’t expected any of this, really. “Uh, sure.”

“You know, it’s a shame you showed up now,” Rachel cut in. “Um, we were actually just calling it a day.” Cami opened her mouth to object, but Rachel gave her such a look she decided against it--the kind you didn't think people like Rachel capable of. “I mean,” she went on, “Cassidy was just leaving. And so are the rest of us.” She nudged Olivia, who nodded along.

“Gotta get to class and all,” Jane agreed. “But we’d love to see you next week.”

Lillian stood, but a look of puzzlement flashed across her face. “The student website said your meeting hours were…?”

“That’s out of date,” Helena interrupted. “You know how it is. Uh, bureaucracy. Student websites. The concept of time. You know how it is,” she said again, almost desperately.

“I suppose I do,” Lillian said, smiling sweetly. “Well, I’ll see you all next week.” Without another word, she strode away.

As soon as she’d left, Rachel let out a long, low groan. “Okay, this is bad. This is really, really bad.”

“Wait, why’s it bad?” Olivia asked. “We should be grateful for more company. All we really do around here is go over whatever supernatural shit happened.”

Rachel glared at her. “Yeah, and you see the problem there, right? We can’t have her knowing about these kinds of things.”

“That’s assuming she’s human,” Jane pointed out. “I honestly got a nonhuman vibe from her.”

“Oh, she’s absolutely not human. You wanna know how I know?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “We had the fey glamour this place half to death to keep interlopers out.”

Helena scoffed. “Interlopers?”

“Interlopers,” Rachel said again, brows knitting together. “Probably from some kinda rogue faction. Maybe a really mad mermaid.”

Cami’s eyes widened. “Wait, there are mermaids, too?”

“Yeah, and they can be total jerks.” Rachel’s hands went to her face, and she let out a muffled scream. “This sucks so bad, you guys. This sucks so bad. I bet they want the humans or something.”

Jane cleared her throat. “As one of the token humans, should I be worried?”

“Um.” Rachel’s hands dropped. “Well, if their plan isn’t to kill you, I think you’d be a really good mermaid.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“Wait a minute!” Olivia cut in.”You know what? I bet she’s with that cult. All that talk about angels was, like, super fucking culty.”

“Is culty even a word?” Jane asked, frowning.

Olivia rolled her eyes. “If it isn’t, it should be. We could campaign for it with her as the definition."

Cami’s hands jittered under the table. She squeezed them together, like the tension could be wrung out. “Well, maybe she’ll sacrifice one of us.”

The others stared at her, silent and still.

“That was supposed to be a joke,” Cami said. “Sorry. I can be bad at delivery, sometimes. Y’know how it is, when… uh…”

Rachel placed a hand on her shoulder. Cami tried not to flinch back: she was too tired for human touch right now. “It’ll be funny once we figure out what’s going on.”

Helena stood abruptly. "I’m gonna get on that right now.” Without another word, she spun on her heel and marched out, a woman on a mission. Cami opened her mouth to say goodbye, but she was already gone.

“And then there were four,” Rachel said, whistling. “Maybe we should just call it a day. I’ll ask the other mothwitches about this. Anything else we can do?”

Cami pointed at Jane. “Jane probably has access to some files through her mom.”

Jane didn't even consider it. “I’m not getting on her bad side again, Cami.”

“Fair enough. In that case, uh… I’ll…” She sighed. “I’ll ask Trintio.” Because he seems like the type for quick and easy answers.

Either oblivious to or willfully ignoring her tone, Rachel beamed and shot Cami a thumbs up. “Great! Sounds like we’ve got our plan.”

“That we do.” Cami stood, grabbing her bag. “Freakspotters, move out. Or whatever.”

Jane clapped slowly, sarcastically. “You’re gonna blow me away with all that spirit.”

Cami stuck her tongue out at her and strode off.

~

Upon coming home, Cami had a quick dinner with her mother and declared she’d be studying on the back porch. That the fresh air would clear her mind. This wasn't the whole story, but what'd it matter? She brought her laptop and portable charger out, more for the image of productivity than anything else.

I’m gonna miss lying, Cami thought. It's convenient sometimes.

Then Trintio didn’t show up. The sun dipped beneath the trees, the late autumn wind sliced through her cardigan, and the only light was from Cami’s laptop screen and the half-finished essay silently judging her.

It was due in two days.

It was about a show she’d never done the readings for.

And, with Trintio nowhere in sight, Cami realized she had no choice but to get to work. She hammered out some half-remembered episode plots that matched with her thesis--something about representation of the housewife on mid-century TV--and even spellchecked the damn thing.

As she closed the last of her research tabs, she let out a sigh of relief.

“Nice going,” said a familiar voice.

Cami just about jumped out of her skin, grabbing her laptop before it could slip off her knees. She turned to see none other than Trintio sitting atop her fence, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world.

“What took you?” Cami whisper-shouted. “I’ve been out here, doing homework, like some kind of student who knows where they’re going in life--”

“Homework you need to do,” Trintio interrupted. “I know about the GPA minimum for club leaders, and we don’t exactly have time for a disruption like you guys losing your space.”

Cami shut her laptop. “You know, we have a bigger problem."

Trintio’s head cocked to the side. “A bigger problem?” he echoed.

“A new girl showed up. She…” Cami's mind raced for the right word. “Well, Olivia called her culty. And that works. Rachel said she could be an interloper.”

“A new girl.” Trintio’s eyes went wide. In the moonlight, they were an eerie silver. Something about it made Cami’s skin crawl.

“Are you just going to repeat whatever I say?”

“Culty or not, a new girl is very bad.” Trintio hopped off the fence, landing soundlessly in the grass. “To be blunt, we glamoured the shit out of your club space, and any entity that can break through our glamours is definitely looking to interfere.”

“Yeah, that's what Rachel said." Cami's heart skipped a beat: she'd been hoping he'd reassure her, say it was a fluke. But he didn't lie, did he? "What would interfering mean? Are we in danger? Is someone going to, like, do whatever happened to Abigail?” In all the madness, she’d almost forgotten about poor Abigail Burton. “God, you haven't even told me the truth about that, had you?"

Trintio’s gaze slid to the ground. “Well. Um. You can learn all about that after taking your Vow. The short answer is…” He shook his head, sighing. All of a sudden, he seemed so much older. So much wearier. “She was a product of fey interference. It’s a long, depressing story, and--”

“I'll wait,” she cut in. Seeing him like this felt… wrong. Almost as wrong as watching her mother cry. “If it’s hard to talk about, I’m willing to wait.” There were lots of other mysteries to focus on in the meantime. Mysteries that actually involved her. When Trintio kept sulking, she pressed, “It’s not like I knew her or anything.”

Trintio barked out a laugh, but said nothing.

Cami studied him. “I didn’t know her, did I?”

“Odd question to ask, isn't that?” Trintio pointed out. It was little more than a whisper, forced through clenched teeth. Before Cami could ask what the hell that meant, he added, “Everything will make sense after you take your Vow. In the meantime, you should rest. You have class tomorrow, after all.”

Cami slumped in her seat. “Fine.”

Trintio mimicked her, practically folding in on himself. “Fiiiiine.” When that got a chuckle out of her, he grinned. “You can be such a kid.”

“You’re, like, a hundred years old. Everyone’s a kid to you.”

“Hey, as long as I don’t look the part.” He clambered up onto the fence, a distinctly catlike movement. “Goodnight, Cami.”

Cami snickered. “Goodnight, Trintio.”