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The sound of an impending fight echoed through the halls. Elliot dragged Clementine closer, and when they turned into the corridor which led towards the courtyard, Carmichael, Bernard, and Stanley came into view, and they had the three arachnoids in a chokehold.

          "Stop lying to us!" Carmichael growled, choking Frederick so firmly that his ice-pale face began to turn blue.

          Elliot let go of Clementine's arm and squealed in worry, rushing over to them. "This is a bad idea!" he insisted.

          Clementine stopped a few feet away, watching. The two girls struggled and grunted in Stanley and Bernard's grip, trying to break free and get to Frederick, who had stopped putting up a fight the moment his arms had fallen limp at his sides.

          "I'm going to give you one more chance, freak!" Carmichael growled, glaring into Frederick's eyes. "Why did you kill Molly!?"

          "We didn't do it!" Nicolette cried.

          "You have to believe us!" her sister whined.

          "Shut them up," Carmichael grunted, glancing over at them.

          "Stop this!" Elliot insisted, standing in front of him. "Someone's going to hear this and see!"

          Carmichael shoved him aside with his free hand and then gripped Frederick's collar, releasing his throat a little so that he might speak. "Answer me!"

          But it wasn't words that came out of Frederick's mouth. The moment he was given the chance, he spat something silky into Carmichael's face, forcing him to let go and stumble back with a horrified grunt—

          Frederick lunged at Carmichael, grabbing him in an instant as Elliot gripped Clementine's sleeve and screeched in horror. Bernard and Stanley lost their composure, and before they could do anything about it, Nicolette and her sister broke free.

          Clementine watched as the six of them wrestled one another. They punched, clawed and yelled—the arachnoids soon took to shooting their web-like silk at Carmichael and his friends, and when the girls managed to stick Bernard to the wall, Clementine eyed the web closely.

          It was more silky than crystal-like—it didn't look much like that which he had seen Molly ensnared in, but then again, there had been a lot more of it around Molly.

          "Stop!" Elliot cried.

          Carmichael stood his ground against Frederick and Nicolette now that Bernard was out, grunting and growling as he tried to pull free of the web, but he wasn't going anywhere.

          "Do something!" Elliot insisted, tugging on Clementine's arm.

          He didn't want to do anything. Not only did he not want to get involved in any drama that would impede his task, but he was also enjoying watching three spider-people fight against two seelies.

          But when Stanley summoned a sizzling ball of light and crashed it into one of the arachnoid's chests, the walls shook, the girl was sent flying back into a wall, and the sound of rushing, nosey students quickly came their way.

          Carmichael shoved Frederick and Nicolette away, and then grabbed Stanley. "What are you thinking you moron?!"

          "We better get out of here!" Elliot panicked.

          Clementine watched as Frederick and Nicolette rushed to help their friend, while Carmichael and Stanley plucked Bernard from the web confining him to the wall.

          Elliot dragged him over to the web, and now that he was closer, he could get a better look—and he was almost certain that this web wasn't what Molly had been wrapped up in the night of her murder, which had to mean her killers weren't arachnoids. So...who had done it?

          "Let's go!" Carmichael grunted, pulling Bernard free.

          Without a moment's hesitation, the five of them sprinted down the hall.

          "I said this was a bad idea!" Elliot called, panting.

          "No one saw us, did they?" Bernard uttered, glancing around at everyone as they hurried through the corridors.

          "I don't think so," Stanley replied.

          "In here!" Carmichael grunted, swiftly diverting into an empty lounge.

          Everyone hurried inside, and as Carmichael shut and locked the door, Elliot paced around and dragged his hands over his face, panting, sweating.

          "Why did we let them get away?!" Bernard exclaimed.

          "They're gonna tell the professors!" Elliot shrieked.

          "It'll be their word against ours," Carmichael mumbled dismissively. "They have no proof."

          This was bad. Clementine had no idea whether or not those arachnoids had seen his face. He sorely hoped that they hadn't, but he couldn't be naïve and act as though that were the case. He didn't know how many other arachnoids there were here, and now that Carmichael had attacked those three, the rest—if there were any—would come for him, Stanley, Bernard, and maybe even himself and Elliot if they'd seen their faces through the fight.

          What was he going to do now? He looked around at the four of them—Elliot continued to panic, Carmichael insisted they weren't about to be kicked out of the academy, and Stanley and Bernard looked almost as horrified as Elliot.

          Clementine didn't want to be here—why was he here? Should he really be risking so much just to have a group of people to hide behind? This seemed a little too much—he could find other people...people that weren't going to try and kill a bunch of kids without a well-thought-out plan. He didn't need this drama—he didn't need the danger. He needed to remove himself from this situation before it became worse.

          So, while the four of them bickered in a cloud of frustration and panic, Clementine slinked away, heading for the door that led out to the gardens. He glanced back over his shoulder, making sure no one had seen him, and as quiet as a mouse...little mouse...he scowled when he remembered what Sebastien had called him—he was getting distracted. He pushed the door open and stepped outside, leaving the lounge without a sound.

          Alone at last, he sighed and followed the gravel path along the outside of the academy. But in his solitude, a familiar, sinister weight began to fall over him. Whispers. He turned his head, gazing into the deep, dark woods. The trees groaned as they swayed in the wind, and whatever hid beyond them watched him with eyes of hunger. He didn't want to be out here longer than necessary.

          He set his eyes on the first door back into the building. When he stepped back inside, he found himself in an abandoned hallway. He hadn't had very good experiences with such places, so he knew better than to hang around. There were still twenty minutes left of lunch, and he wasn't going to be spending them with Elliot and his friends, so...what to do?

           Figure out what to do with Ian, that was what.

         Now that things were picking up again—now that Carmichael had initiated what Clementine suspected would be another chain of attempted murders, he could plan Ian's demise. He could use the conflict between Carmichael and the arachnoids to disguise his pursuit of Ian. Everyone would be too distracted watching for arachnoids and seelies to spare him a glance.

          With Ian on his mind, he made his way through the academy and back to the lunch hall. But with only ten minutes left before the beginning of next period, barely anyone remained. Ian and his friends were nowhere to be seen, and that caused Clementine to growl in frustration. The only class he shared with Ian was biology, which he had once a day, either right before or after lunch. So, if he wanted to see him again today, he'd have to sneak around and find him. But how could he do that without getting caught? Without risking his life?

           He stepped out of the hall and leaned back against the wall beside the door. Was he rushing this? Should he be thinking it through more? He'd only discovered Ian because he'd rolled up his sleeve and revealed a watch—would he get so lucky again? He had no idea how many other Ravenbloods were here—he had no idea how to find them other than looking for their mark.

         Would the school roster tell him? Was there even such a thing? What about a teacher? Would they know? No, that was stupid. How was he going to get answers from a teacher? Perhaps...he could grab Ian and beat answers out of him? He didn't seem like the type to quiver under interrogation, but what other options were there? No, he needed a plan—he needed something other than find, follow, and kill. He needed to reveal as many of his targets as he could, the sooner the better.

          What was his next class? He reached into his pocket and pulled out his timetable. Art. Would Professor McMillan miss him if he didn't turn up? Probably. His art skills were bad enough that the professor had made a point of checking his work every fifteen minutes or so. He couldn't afford to miss something like that. So, he had no choice but to sit through art and work out what his next move would be: search for a possible school roster, interrogate Ian, or just kill him and hope another Ravenblood revealed themselves...which would it be?

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