My chest tightened as if I was going to cry. A faint scent of redwood came from her, almost overwhelmed by her perfume. Miserable, I pulled the carrots farther in and downed them as fast as I could. They smelled sharply of vinegar, and I wondered at Sara Jane’s choice of salad dressing. She had only given me three. I could’ve eaten twice that.

“I thought you farmers hated chicken killers,” Jonathan said, pretending indifference as he watched me for any unminklike behavior.

Sara Jane’s cheeks colored, and she rose quickly from her crouch. Before she could say anything, she reached out an unsteady hand and braced herself against my cage. “Oooh,” she said, her eyes going distant. “I got up too fast.”

“Are you all right?” he asked, his flat tone sounding as if he didn’t care.

She put a hand to her eyes. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

I paused my chewing, hearing soft pacing in the hall, and Trent walked in. He had taken his coat off, and it was only his clothes that made him look like a Fortune-twenty executive rather than a head lifeguard. “Sara Jane, aren’t you on lunch?” he asked amiably.

“Just leaving now, Mr. Kalamack,” she said. She glanced worriedly between Jonathan and me before she left. Her heels thumped dimly in the hallway and vanished. I felt a wash of relief. If Trent was here, Jonathan would probably leave me alone and I could eat.

The haughty man folded himself carefully into one of the chairs opposite Trent’s desk. “How long?” he said, putting an ankle on his knee and glancing at me.

“Depends.” Trent fed his fish something from a freezer-dried pouch. The Yellow Tang bumped against the surface, making soft sounds.

“It must be strong,” Jonathan said. “I didn’t think it would affect her at all.”

I paused in my chewing. Her? Sara Jane?

“I thought it might,” Trent said. “She’ll be fine.” He turned, his face creased in thought. “In the future, I may have to be more direct in my dealings with her. All the information she brought up concerning the sugar beet industry was slanted toward a bad business venture.”

Jonathan cleared his throat, making it sound patronizing. Trent closed the pouch and tucked it away in the cabinet under the tank. He went to stand behind his desk, his fair head bowed as he arranged his papers.

“Why not a spell, Sa’han?” Jonathan unfolded his long legs and stood, tugging out the creases in his dress pants. “I would imagine it would be more certain.”

“It’s against the rules to spell animals in competition.” He scribbled a note in his planner.

A dry smile crossed Jonathan’s face. “But drugs are all right? That makes perverted sense.”

My chewing slowed. They were talking about me. The bitter taste of vinegar was stronger on this last carrot. And my tongue was tingling. Dropping the carrot, I touched my gums. They were numb. Damn. It was Friday.

“You bastard!” I shouted, throwing the carrot at Trent, only to have it bounce back against the mesh. “You drugged me. You drugged Sara Jane to get me!” Furious, I flung myself at the door, wedging my arm out, trying to reach the latch. Nausea and dizziness rose.