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The Tiny Curse: Werewolf High Book 2(13)

By:Anita Oh


That made sense, and I didn't know what I'd ever have to chit-chat about with Nikolai Volkov anyway.

He settled the hat on his head and then we were off. Riding in a hat was  a new sensation, but not bad. It felt more sturdy than being in  Tennyson Wilde's pocket. I didn't jiggle around as much, and I could  feel the warmth from Nikolai's head through the hat; he really threw out  some heat. Everything seemed much further away than usual and we seemed  to be moving at an extremely fast rate, but not in a bad way. It  definitely wasn't the worst way to travel.

We headed out of the Golden House and up to the school. Nobody was  around, though it didn't feel that early, and I remembered that I'd  hardly ever seen any of the Golden at morning classes. They seemed to  just do whatever they felt like, on their own schedule, and I wondered  if I'd get super behind in all my classes. I supposed that was probably  the purpose behind the curse.

"Do you know Fatima?" I whispered to Nikolai.

He had said he couldn't reply, so it was probably a bit mean to ask him  questions, but we were walking through the school grounds alone so there  was nobody to see him muttering to himself.

"I doubt it," he said. "Why? Is that one of your commoner friends?"

"I think she's the one who did this to me."

"Point her out then, if you see her."

He didn't head toward the classrooms even though it was definitely class  time. Instead he turned toward the dining hall. That was fine with me,  it was French Toast day.         

     



 

The normal dining hall was fancy enough, but the little balcony area  where the Golden ate was something else. Everything seemed literally  made of gold, and they had a whole special menu that wasn't available to  the regular students. I didn't even know what some of the things on  there meant.

"Where is she?" asked Sam, before Nikolai could sit down. He looked  fine, maybe a bit tired. "Don't tell me you left her at the house on her  own?"

"Of course I didn't," Nikolai said, pressing the button for coffee about fifty times in rapid succession.

"And even if he had, it's not as if I couldn't survive for a few hours alone in a sock drawer."

The three of them started, looking at Nikolai in shock.

"Ventriloquism?" Tennyson Wilde asked, furrowing his massive eyebrows and cocking his head to the side.

"You didn't tell them?" I asked Nikolai.

"I was hoping we could have some fun with it first," he said.

"She's in that ugly hat?" asked Althea. "Did you make that? Do you  expect the rest of us to wear it, because you know how I feel about  touching anything that's been in contact with your skin."

"I don't have any diseases, Althea," Nikolai said, sighing in relief when the coffee appeared. "I'm a werewolf."

"And yet you always make such dubious fashion choices," she said.

"Have you eaten?" Sam asked, staring at the flower on Nikolai's hat,  where he obviously thought I was hiding. "You can come out, there's only  us here."

Nikolai lowered the hat so that I could climb out onto the table and Sam  sat a plate of French toast in front of me. It was like an actual  mountain of French toast, the most luxurious French toast in the whole  world. There have been many happy moments in my life, but never before  had I experienced such a complete and pure feeling of joy as when I  faced down that French toast mountain and vowed to make it my own.

At first, I was in such a French toast frenzy that the world around me  faded into nothing, but as I began to fill up, bits of the conversation  going on around me filtered in.

"Look at her eating that thing," Nikolai said. "Just like a tiny human-shaped rodent."

"The security people have been over everything again and still can't  explain how the orb was taken," Tennyson Wilde said. "They are also at a  loss to explain this spell."

"Well, you can't fire this lot," Althea said. "After last time, there won't be anyone left."

"They were supposed to be the best in the world," Tennyson said. "And  they clearly were not. Why should I pay them for a service I'm clearly  not receiving?"

"You sound like Mother," she said.

"Did you retrieve the book?" Tennyson said, ignoring Althea and turning his entire body toward Sam.

Sam glanced down at me with a guilty expression on his face. I waved a  chunk of bacon at him to let him know I didn't care that he'd told the  others. Things like that, you keep them a secret because they're  confusing or worrisome or whatever, but that only leads to trouble in  the end, and I was too small now to keep something that big inside.  Better to let it out and have someone else deal with it. Any extra space  I had needed to be filled up with French toast.

Sam pulled the book out of my backpack. Both the bag and book had seen  better days. The book had gone all stiff and yellow from being soaked  and then dried out. Tennyson picked it up, but the pages had dried  together and it wouldn't open. Still, the names on the cover were there  for anyone to see.

"I'll have our people look into it. I doubt it's a coincidence that her father is involved in all this."

I stopped eating and stared up at Tennyson Wilde.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You know very well what I mean," he said.

"I want to hear you say it to my face." I brandished a piece of toast at  him. "Go on, explain to me how you think my father was responsible for  what happened to Sam. How you think everything that's happening now is  some grand O'Connor family conspiracy. Tell me how you understand  everything that's happened to my family over the past ten years so much  better than I do."

I was all sticky with maple syrup, and a little bit nauseated from  overeating and the conversation, but I was too angry to stay there with  this jerk. I stormed off the plate and started walking away, but when I  got to the edge of the table, I realized I had nowhere to go. I was  totally helpless. It was so frustrating that I wanted to scream.

"It's okay, Lucy," Sam said, holding out his hand for me to climb onto. "Nobody thinks that."

Tennyson Wilde cleared his throat.

"But what if he's right," I said, as Sam held me up to his face. "My dad  just vanished. He could be anywhere, doing anything." I looked away. I  didn't want to say it, didn't even want to think it, but I needed to  acknowledge the possibility. "He could be behind what happened to you."         

     



 

Sam shook his head. "You know what I remember about your dad?" he asked  softly. "That year when my little sister was an angel in the Christmas  pageant and she was so excited, you remember? She loved having wings so  much. But then our car wouldn't start on the way to the school and we  were running late, and she was so upset thinking she'd miss it. And your  dad told her not to cry, he had magic hands and he'd make everything  okay, and popped the hood and got that old car going within minutes,  remember?"

"Wait, that doesn't make sense," said Nikolai. "Why didn't he just call a driver?"

I rolled my eyes and Sam laughed.

"The point is," Sam went on, "that your father was a good man. He'd  never hurt me or my family. Never. Wherever he is, whatever he's doing,  you have to believe that it's for the best, that's he doing the right  thing."

I wanted to believe that, I really did. But would a good man really walk  out on his sick wife and four children, leaving them with nothing?

"Either way," I said. "It would be irresponsible not to investigate him.  If he has any connection to what's happening now, we need to know about  it. I don't think this is him though."

I explained to them about Fatima, how she'd been the ringleader in  driving me into the bamboo forest. Fatima had more motive than anyone, I  told them. As I was telling them, a few other things occurred to me  too, like how whoever made the fake social media accounts had some  pretty personal knowledge about me, and it wasn't as if I had a whole  bunch of friends at Amaris to choose from.

"We'll have her looked at as well," said Tennyson Wilde.

The bell rang but nobody seemed in a hurry to move.

"The mages should have the analysis of the magical activity over the  past day to us by tonight," Althea said, scrolling through her phone.  "They don't sound hopeful though. They say if they found nothing last  time, it's unlikely they will this time. But they think that based on  how the spell was broken last time and any trace magic left this time,  they might be able to extrapolate a counter-curse."

I had like a thousand questions about what she'd just said, but one was definitely the priority.

"They can biggen me?"

She shrugged. "Hopefully."

"The restoration of your size is hardly the priority here," said  Tennyson Wilde. "We need to find whoever is behind this. You are either  in league with them or they are targeting you specifically, and either  way that makes you more useful in your current state."