“What?”

The corner of her mouth twitches up. “I told them they’d have to fistfight each other if they didn’t sort it out.”

Confusion scrunches my face. “Did they?”

“Hmm.” Olani’s mouth tilts in a rare smile. Then, without another word, she brushes past me and goes inside. She’s joking. She must be joking—right?

A cool, silky breeze skims my face, teasing through the hair that always slips out of my braid to frame my face. I’m not sure if Olani was serious or not, but if it comes down to it, in a fistfight between me and a hawk, the hawk will win. For sure.

I ball up my hands and stare up at the hawk, willing him to come down.

He doesn’t.

“Come on,” I mutter, letting another long moment stretch. Eventually, I give in. My boots crunch in the grass as I march up to the base of the tree, already feeling absurd.

“Get down from there, Raze!” I shout.

The hawk ruffles its feathers, head swiveling to peer at me with bright yellow eyes.

“Come on, we need to get going! We don’t have time for this right now!”

I really, really hope that this is Raze, and I’m not just shouting at an innocent hawk, but it’s hard to tell. All birds kind of look alike. Or maybe he’s overextended himself, and he’s stuck like this now.

“You...you can still turn into a person, right?”

The hawk lifts its wings, shaking them with an indignant screech.

Okay, then.

This boy is going to be the end of me. My patience can’t take much more of this. He’s slowing us all down with his petty spite, and I can feel impatience bubbling just under the surface in the enchantment again. The wind kicks up around me, and I think back to our conversation last night.

There’s a chance that I was being petty and spiteful, too. I’d taunted him the same way I’ve been taunted all my life for the seemingly simple things I just can’t do. And even though Raze might be the actual bane of my existence, he doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.

No one does.

I sigh, almost choking on my words. “Raze, I’m...sorry.” My teeth grind together, but I keep going. “I had no right to say that to you. Will you please come down now?”

For a second, I think he’s ignoring me. Or maybe this really is just a regular hawk. Then he swoops to the ground, transforming back into himself just in time to land with a solid thump.

He studies me thoughtfully, and I study him back. I have to tilt my chin to look up at him, but I stand there, unflinching as I meet his eyes in half-second intervals.

There are leaves in his hair, I think as I wait for him to speak.

Which, it’s starting to seem, will never happen. Maybe he was a hawk so long he’s forgotten how.

Fate, I can only hope.