Chatoyant College Book 7: Upon What Soil

Chapter 22: Under the Influence

"Let's get out of here," Corrie said, gesturing urgently at Naomi and Dawn. "I don't know how long they're going to be able to hold him back." Her heart was hammering with adrenaline.

"Who?" Naomi frowned and glanced back toward the building, but scrambled to her feet. "Tom?"

Corrie shook her head and held her hand out to Dawn. "The guy who was dancing with Dawn. He did not want me to come back in. I didn't get a chance to find Tom. Though considering how much he's drawn to any drama, he should figure out where we were..."

"Unless he's distracted. Come on, Dawn, get up."

Dawn finally obeyed, not taking Corrie's proffered hand. Naomi took her arm and said, "This way," starting down the path toward the dorms. "She seems to listen to me," Naomi said over her shoulder to Corrie. "Don't know why she won't listen to you."

Corrie frowned, looking at Naomi's wrists. As she dropped her keys back into her purse, an idea began to form. "You're not wearing your bracelets."

"No, I guess not." Naomi grimaced. "I probably should have. I really didn't expect to have any problems with the faeries at the party. We don't normally have any trouble in the department, other than people throwing hissy fits over not having their art validated..."

"I didn't expect any trouble either," Corrie said, holding up her right wrist. "I only wore one, and that's because I keep it on all the time. I even forgot about it." She cursed herself, going over her interactions with the antlered faerie. She could have hit him with the bracelet much earlier than she hit him with the keys. Of course, it had been the same arm he was holding, so that she didn't have as much control. And it wouldn't have been as obvious a threat, not without taking more chances of clueing in whoever was around them.

Wanting to test her theory, she untwisted the pieces of wire that formed a clasp on the skintight bracelet, then tucked the stainless steel into a small pocket in her purse. She checked herself over to determine that no iron was touching her skin. "Hey, Dawn," she said, a little more loudly than she'd been speaking to Naomi. "Let's go back to the dorm, okay?"

Dawn turned to her with a delighted, glassy grin. "Corrie!" She sounded surprised but happy. "Okay. Let's do that. What's at the dorm?"

"Some, uh, really tasty water," she improvised. She didn't think getting Dawn to drink some water would make much difference at this point, but it definitely couldn't hurt. She was feeling pretty thirsty herself.

It seemed to work; Dawn sped up from the crawl she'd been keeping until then, and Naomi and Corrie quickened their paces accordingly. "That was weird," said Naomi quietly.

Corrie nodded. "I think that pretty much proves that she's not high. It's some faerie magic. She didn't listen to me until there wasn't any iron touching me. I'll bet she listened to every word that faerie she was dancing with said, though. That must be part of the magic."

Naomi frowned, pushing her dreadlocks out of her face with her free hand. "That doesn't make sense. Faerie magic shouldn't affect her."

"I know," Corrie said. "Hopefully we can get her to tell us what happened."

They managed to get her upstairs without running into anyone—the dorm was strangely deserted for this early on a Friday night, but it was Halloween. Once they'd each drunk about half a bottle of water, Corrie started to question Dawn. "Do you know what happened?"

"What happened?" Dawn echoed blankly but happily.

Corrie sighed. "At the party. You were having a good time, right?"

"Yeah! I got my back painted, look..." She turned and started to pull her shirt up. Corrie stopped her.

"I saw it already. It's very pretty. What about before that?"

"You were there before that."

Corrie shook her head. "We were apart for a few minutes. Who did you talk to?"

"Nobody. Didn't see anybody I knew. Then June wanted to paint my back. We're talking in circles, Corrie."

"Yeah. Sorry." So it had to be in the candy, somehow. Corrie felt queasy. She hadn't been spiked, apparently, but how many other people at the party had?

"What kind of candy did you eat?" Naomi asked, interrupting Corrie's anxious thoughts.

"Um... a lot of candy. Chocolate. Something sour. It was good."

"Jeez," said Naomi. "I can't warn anybody off with that kind of vague information."

"It's probably too late, anyway," said Corrie. "Even if it's in just one kind of candy, there's probably three other people who brought the same kind, and the table was all jumbled up. They'd never get it all out."

"It might be worth it, though," Naomi said. She turned to Dawn. "Dawn, did the chocolate have anything..." She stopped talking, and Corrie turned to see what was wrong.

Dawn was lying on her side on the bed, her eyes closed, breathing deeply. She was fast asleep.