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Even watered down the ambrosia leaves me feeling a little hungover the next morning. Or maybe it was all the rich food. Or it could’ve been the amount of tension around that table. Put that in a bottle and you could power all of Florida for a year.
Shading my eyes against the too bright sun, I make my way across campus to the infirmary. The healers strictly sealed off the building while they were dosing the afflicted shifters with the cure—a serum that Metis concocted using antibodies from the dead baby scorpion. When I arrive, they’ve just begun to allow non-afflicted students in.
Rochelle—the lion-shifter who had been stuck in her cat form—is in a circle of friends, restored to her human body. She doesn’t seem able to speak, though. Every time she opens her mouth, all that comes ou
