Monster High: Season of the Witch

Birds of a Feather

The last traces of ash on Beatrix's hands swirled down the drain.

They were safe now. Away from the two horsemen, their swinging scythes, the suffocating fire and smoke.

Leaning over the bathroom sink, Beatrix let the water soothe her inflamed skin. The blotchy rash stretching from the tips of her fingers to her mid-forearms showed no signs of fading, even though almost an hour had passed since their encounter with death, or deaths, in the woods.

She was currently in Astar's bathroom, which was connected to his private suite in the boy's dormitory—a special living arrangement reserved for the marquess of the fifth circle of hell.

The only other dorm on campus as nice as this belonged to Cleo.

However, the key difference between Cleo and Astar's living quarters was clear: Astar was a total slob.

Toothpaste residue lined the sink, nail files for his talons were scattered on the countertops, and dirty clothes and towels lay crumpled near his shower.

There was a knock at the door.

Jackson's voice came from the other side. "Beatrix? You okay in there?"

Rather than using one of Astar's nasty towels to dry her hands, Beatrix gingerly pressed them on her black jeans.

She winced as she used a burned hand to turn the bathroom door handle.

Jackson looked just as disheveled and dirty as her, his glasses crooked from the chase.

"I'm fine," she reassured. "But my skin isn't looking any better."

"Yeah, you definitely overdid the fire spell," Astar said. The devil sat on the floor next to Autumn, both of them leaning against the foot of his bed.

He was pressing a damp cloth against the scorched area of Autumn's collarbone, working to remove the burn marks from her canvas skin. Thankfully, Autumn had gotten out of the forest in one piece.

Since the boy's dormitory had been the closest refuge, they were all hiding out in Astar's room until the chaos on the south side of the school died down.

"You mean you overdid the fire spell," Beatrix countered.

"Ha! That's funny. You must've hit your head out there, 'cause you're misremembering things," Astar said. He nudged Autumn. "Patches, back me up here."

"Don't drag her into this," Beatrix scolded.

Besides, Autumn was being noticeably quiet at the moment.

"N-now's not the time to fight," Jackson tried to interject. "We gotta figure out what to do now that—"

"Hey, you asked for help, I delivered," Astar told Beatrix.

"Your blood, or whatever that gold stuff was, boosted the magic too much. I didn't mean to burn the whole forest down!"

"You ditched me, I hurt your hands a little. Now we're even," Astar said. "Normally, I'd put more ash on your palms to counteract the ichor, protect your skin, and give you better control over the flames. But nope, couldn't do that because, oh yeah, you knocked me out and then had the nerve to demand I save you." Astar's volume rose. "I woke up to that old goblin dragging me across the floor. She tried to stuff me in a kitchen closet!"

"Greta? The lunch lady?" Jackson questioned. "Why was Greta..."

Beatrix didn't pay attention to the comment as her anger flared. "You told me the magic would last an hour, but it disappeared after a few fire blasts! That's why I was in a bind and needed to summon you!"