VERONICA. RIGHT. That had been the Latin name I was grasping for. The one linked to the little blue flowers dotting the Whelan forest, the flowers our Guardian imbued with unearthly beauty. She used to pout whenever we crushed any type of blossom, but if we dared to step on one of the Veronicas she blew her lid.
Plus, Kale had been kidn*pped by the icy wind hours after pointing out the uniqueness of my flower patch. Coincidence? I thought not.
For half a second, though, I doubted my guesswork. Or Kale’s guesswork. Maybe he’d used the wrong Latin?
The air hung heavy. The hall was silent.
Then...it worked.
Veronica didn’t just release Kale, she flung him off the table. Not in my direction, unfortunately. The other way.
The boy landed on his knees, barely catching himself from falling f
