“She left,” a girl practically shrieks.

“What did you want me to do, drag her backstage?” Xander. There’s an edge to his voice.

I scoot around another row of junk and duck. The next row is shorter. Cages of birds sit balanced on top of the boxes. I’m creeping forward like some kind of awkward spy. I pull my hood over my head. I want their secrets, after all. This is one way to get them.

“We need her. She’s the only one who’d even have a fighting chance this late in the game. You have to go all in.”

“You know I hate doing that,” Xander says. His voice is softer, suddenly more like a caress than the blade it was a second ago.

“Think of Sarah.” Another girl’s voice is feather light—perhaps the bird girl.

“I always am,” Xander snaps. “I’m just not convinced this is the right move.”

“It’s our only move,” the feather voice says.

Unease creeps up my spine. There’s a desperation in their voices that doesn’t make sense.

I grip one of the boxes, rising up to peek through the bars of the birdcage. All the magicians sit around a huge wooden table. No one seems happy.

“Then it’s settled,” the original voice says.

I lean forward to see her face, and the box teeters under my grip. I pull away too fast, and the birdcage crashes forward.

CHAPTER 5

I hope the birds are okay.

I slink down to the floor, breathing hard.

Boots stomp toward me. Instinct propels me to my hands and knees, and I scramble back the way I came, but a hand grabs my sweatshirt and yanks until I backpedal onto my butt. I’m dragged around the last wall of boxes and into the light.

The bird girl looks up from where she’s bent next to her cage of spilled birds. Her eyes widen in recognition, but she says nothing, going back to cooing softly at her riled doves.

The fire girl looms above me, flames twisting in one of her palms, but it’s her face that scares the shit out of me. I scoot away from her snarl, but she’s faster. Her free hand snatches my upper arm and pulls me to my feet. Even though she’s not much taller than me, her grip is iron. But it releases me the second she makes eye contact. Her hand darts out and yanks the hood off my head.

“Hey,” I say. I feel more vulnerable without my face half hidden.

“You,” the fire girl grumbles. “What are you sneaking around for? I almost roasted you like a bug.” She turns her glare on Xander, who’s leaning against the edge of the long wooden table with his arms folded across his chest, watching us with a smirk on his face. “You told me you lost her,” she says.

Lost me?