She lay on the cool green grass, feeling the leftover morning dew soak into her back. She didn’t care; it was a beautiful spring day, she could taste summer on the air, and the clouds above her whisked across the sky like they were late for a meeting. She wondered, absently, what the clouds might feel like, what they might taste like. Would they be like this spring morning, cool and refreshing? Or maybe they were like cotton candy, spun sugar that danced across the sky.

She giggled at the thought. She knew the clouds were just water gathering high above them before showering down on her little planet. But still, what if… She reached her hand up, tracing the puffy white clouds. What if, she thought, we could just reach up, into the sky, and pull down the clouds ourselves? Would they hold their form, and stay clean and bright and airy, or would they dissolve into droplets on the way down?

It was the first day of school, and Paul, Tracey, Caleb, and Kia were very excited. It was the first school year since their Fera Forms were revealed. They all knew that meant they started classes with Mr. Vaughn, about the history of the Fera Forms, how to control their Transformation, and most importantly, how to hide their true nature from the regular people.

Paul’s mother had already told him some of the history, which he was excitedly retelling his friends. Years and years ago, when the human race was first starting to evolve and leave behind the natural world and its deities, a small group banded together to preserve the Old Ways. They prayed not to God, Allah, Ganesh, or any of the other constructed beings, but to the sun and the earth, the sky and the water, the wind and the plants. They knew their fate was tied to the energy around them, they knew that their bounty and their bereft came from the natural world, not an invisible spirit on a different plane.

Eileen felt numb. She felt like her soul had flown from her body, and was watching her from outside, like she wasn’t connected to her own flesh anymore. She watched John’s mouth move, watched as a tear rolled down his cheek, as he gesticulated and paced. She felt her eyes fill with tears, her vision blur, but still she sat, frozen.

His words echoed around her mind, blocking everything else out. I am so sorry. She blinked, swallowed. It meant nothing. She didn’t know what to do. What to say. What to feel. She meant nothing. Eileen, believe me. Eileen, I love you.

Cora had always followed the rules. She did well in school, she listened to her elders, she skipped along the path laid out before her. Which is why she hesitated outside the small tent, wanting to go inside but uncertain of what should would find there. The circus had been in town for a few days, and she had finally gotten a group of friends to go with her (safety in numbers, you know). Cora started the day with her friends, but somehow, her feet had led her away from the acrobatic performance that mesmerized her companions, and here she stood, unsure.

Why had she been drawn to this particular spot? It was a shabby tent, with a small sign that listed to the left. Ask Madame Sofia, it said. Advice from the Universe, $3. Cora jumped as a voice drifted out to her from the shadows.

“Come, child. I know you are out there.”

Don hefted his machine gun, eyes darting around the yard. He didn’t like this set up. They were too exposed, too visible to snipers or vulnerable to an ambush. But Schultz had put this deal together, and they needed the job. No one said being a mercenary was an easy or safe gig. But Don, like many of the others nervously checking their gear around him, didn’t have much of a choice. A dishonorable discharge after a decade in the military doesn’t leave one with many options.

“Royer, get your ass in here,” a voice barked over his comms. With one last look around the courtyard, Don ducked into the barn, and assessed the situation. Schultz looked cool as could be, even while staring down three rifles. The drug dealers, on the other hand, were jumpy. Probably sampling their own product, Don thought, his lip curling slightly.

“What’s happening here, fellas,” he said, keeping his voice light while raising his own gun.

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I mean no, I will not let you set me up with another one of your coworkers, who you swear will be perfect, and who then ends up being really boring, or sweaty. Or both. Do I really need to remind you about Raymond?”

Kira leaned back in her desk chair, arms crossed. Leanne, her best friend, managed to look suitably chagrined.

“Malvar, why do you always pick scary movies?” Nell asked, peaking through her fingers at the screen.

“Ew, Nell, look at that!” shouted Tuck, jostling her shoulder. “Did you see that dude’s arm get ripped off! Sick.”

Malvar finished his mouthful of popcorn, then smirked at Nell. “Because I host movie night, so I get to pick what we watch. And I want to watch Murder Cave 5: Descent to the Bowels.”

“Mira, when you get married, elope,” Molly said, dropping what seemed like the millionth intricately folded place card. Mira looked up at her from across the table, where she was tackling a pile of mini bubble wands that needed to be tied together with curly ribbon.

“Not like that’s ever going to happen anyway,” Mira grumbled, then continued as Molly opened her mouth to protest. “And Mols, all of this was your idea. I did suggest eloping when you showed me your guest list.”

Molly glared at her little sister, then flicked a crushed place card at her.

“Come on, I dare you.”

Violet felt four pairs of eyes on her, waiting for her to react. Derrick, who had issued the challenge, looked smug. Claire and Isaac smirked with him, but Truman seemed to be sympathetic.

They were in a dim corner of the library, with a musty old book laid out in front of them. They had been here working on homework, but Claire had gotten bored, and suggested they explore the older parts of the library. Their library had been around for at least a hundred years, and there were many stories that it was haunted. There were odd dark corners, cold spots, and a whole antique book section that Violet usually avoided.

She sat slumped in the hard chair, head down, eyes closed. She felt herself shuddering, involuntary twitching throughout her body. It was like her skin and muscles were dancing to a song she couldn’t hear. Her hair was finally starting to dry, though pieces were still stuck to her face. She could feel the leather straps around her wrists and ankles biting into her skin, could feel the pressure, but the pain was gone. She wondered idly if her hands and feet would burn when the bindings were released, as blood rushing back into her extremities. Her throat was raw and aching, from her screams, from gasping for breath. She could still feel the cold water around her head, enveloping her, trying to swallow her, could still feel the cold sting of air on her face as she was jerked back, could feel the pain of her lungs expanding, sucking in stale air.