Bastian and Ben take off on a scavenger hunt.

Nate is left behind, stuck in Ben's empty seat at the head of the table. He looks like he wants to melt into the upholstery. Adeline is still not talking to me, Della is trying to put evil juju on me with her death stare, and Clove keeps glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. No doubt, Adeline told her I'm trying to steal Nate.

Welcome to breakfast in hell.

Kitty wheels Miss K into her spot and the old madam takes command with two sharp claps.

"Before our stomachs sidetrack us, you need to be brought up to speed on recent events. It seems that wretched boy, Rake, has caused some serious damage to Bastian's airship, forcing him to delay his departure. Rake's guilt has not been confirmed, but Bastian is almost certain it was his handiwork. As I speak, Bastian and Ben are searching for the miscreant to get a confession. In the meantime, I want you all to keep your eyes and ears open. I wouldn't put it past him to try something similar here."

Della snorts. "There's another thing we can thank dear, sweet Ivy for. She's really making herself useful around here, isn't she?"

"Let's not point fingers, Della," Miss K says, although everyone looks at me. "It was bound to happen. Rake skates on thin ice where sanity is concerned." She singles out Mitch, completely ignoring Adeline's scowl two seats down. "I need you and the boys on a rotating watch for the next two nights."

Mitch nods. "No problem, Miss K."

She puts her napkin on her lap, signaling the end of the conversation, and everyone digs into their breakfast. I'm grateful for the reprieve from eye contact, but I've been dreading the eating part of the meal ever since I saw the wicked look in Adeline's eyes. I inspect my soft boiled egg for signs of tampering, glancing over at Adeline to see if she's watching me. She isn't. She's watching Nate.

I take a minute to admire the egg cup. It's made of wood, not china, painted in black lacquer and rimmed with a delicate band of gold. Where had it come from? Was it part of a set? I look around the table for a match. There's only one other like it, under Kitty's egg. I tap the shell with my spoon, ignoring the hunger pains triggered by the smell of soft boiled eggs. I'm no stranger to that kind of pain. When was the last time I had a soft boiled egg? Beltane at Grandma Louise's place? Am I overreacting? Damn, I'm hungry.

As I peel off bits of shell and arrange them neatly on my plate, I decide I'm not willing to risk it, not until I get more of Adeline's story. She appears to have a short fuse and, clearly, she has no problem slapping people who deserve it. Then there's Rake, who goes and messes up Bastian's airship like a bumwipe. Now, everyone blames me for putting the house in danger. Bastian probably does too. I want to stay angry at him, but I can't help feeling sorry for the jerk.

"Are you unwell, dear?" Miss K asks, as she glances at my plate.

I'm smashing the shell into a powder with the end of my spoon, ignoring the egg and the warm, runny yolk peeking through the hole in the top.

"Actually...yes. I'm not feeling well," I lie. "I'm really sorry. I should have given my egg to someone else."

Della clicks her tongue and looks ready to pounce, but Miss K's clan elder glare silences her.

"Why don't you excuse yourself, Ivy? Take a nice, soothing bath," Miss K says, fluttering her hand at me. "Kitty just took hers. The water should still be warm. And you can leave your egg. I'm sure someone will enjoy it."

"Thanks. A bath will probably help." I push away from the table, keeping my head down as I walk out of the room. I'd bathe in a frozen stream to get away from this breakfast nightmare.

Kitty follows me, hustling me down the hall to the dressing room for a towel and change of underwear, then into the bathroom where I receive shampoo and a bar of soap. Conversation is nil, but she isn't unpleasant either. An outsider might even say she was acting shy as she quietly slips out of the room and closes the door.

The water is not that warm, but I don't mind letting my head slip under the surface. I've been dying to wash Rake's filth off my body. Too bad I can't wash him from my memory. I wave at the soap, using my magic to levitate it to my arm and rub it across my skin, practicing as I was instructed to do. The technique is tricky, but I played with it some back home, back when I had a tub. Not even Mom knew I was using my magic.

After I coat my body in a film of clean, I sink under the surface again to rinse. As the bubbles grow, I rotate my hand over them, forming a whirlpool. It spirals up instead of down, like a soapy tornado, spitting foam on me and the floor. It's too much fun to stop, and I ignore the mess while I work a handful of lathery water into a ball. I levitate it over my head, preparing to release it like a waterfall, when the door opens and Kitty walks in. The water splashes back into the tub, catching me in the face.

"Impressive," she says. "But can you do this?"

She closes the door and locks it, taking aim at the tub with her finger. The soap jumps up like it knows who's commanding it, and follows her direction to the mirror. With a perfectly steady hand, she spells the word KITTY on the glass with it.

"Nice. Have you always used your finger to do magic? I was told the palm gives more surface for the magic to flow through."

"I was taught to use my palm like everybody else, but I don't want to be like everybody else. Stand up and I'll show you another thing."

I do as she asks, trying not to feel embarrassed by my nakedness. It doesn't seem to faze her in the least. With a swirl and a flick, the towel lifts off the chair, unfolds itself in mid-air, and wraps around my body.

"That's a trick my mom taught me," she says with a grin, clearly impressed with her skills. "She couldn't always be here when it was time for my bath. I also learned to build a conjuring fire at age four and could lift Grandma off her bed by the time I was six."

I step out of the tub as I listen to her talk. It's the first time she has mentioned her mom. It's also the first time she has gotten chatty with me. I haven't even been bawled out for the bubbles on the floor. "You're very good. How often do you use your magic?"

"Anytime I'm alone. Mostly in the cellar. No one else is allowed in the cellar except me and Ben, so I'm never worried about getting caught there."

"Your dad tells me Della's the only other girl here who's a caster," I say, seizing the opportunity to get information from the girl who would be queen. "How did she find your clan?"

Kitty scowls for a second, but her strangely sociable mood wins out. "My dad found her. He saw her doing magic at the airfield and brought her here to meet us. Grandma didn't trust her at first, but she's gotten used to her."

The bathroom is cold and I've started to shiver, but I have way too many unanswered questions. I tighten the towel around my chest and press on. "Does Della practice with Miss K like I'm doing?"

"Grandma has to force Della to practice with her. Della doesn't like to be under the microscope when she does magic."

"Have you ever seen Della use her magic?"

"Of course, tons of times. She gets carried away and breaks stuff, but Grandma knows how to fix most things. Once she caught the canopy on fire and Grandma cursed her out in front of me. I'm learning how to fix things."

Look who knows how to spill the beans.

It sounds like Della has a problem controlling her magic. Is her tough girl act just an act? Is she scared of blowing up too? It makes me wonder if she was a novice before Bastian shared his special gift with her. Does he regret that decision?

There's a knock on the door and someone calls from the other side. "How's a guy supposed to use the toilet when there's girls hogging it?"

"Keep your pants on, Mitch," Kitty says. "We'll be out in a second."

She points at me and my towel unwraps, floating to her waiting arm. When she starts to tidy up the room, I assume our gab session has come to an end. Sadly, her chatter has only fueled more questions, but I'm grateful for what I got.

"By the way, Ivy. You won't be able to hang out with Clove for a while. She's not alone."

I nod as I get dressed, watching her dab at the bubbles on the floor with the towel. Does she really know what goes on behind those closed doors?

"It's getting harder to keep my pants on out here," Mitch says, the pitch of his voice rising.

Kitty shakes her head, glancing at me as I adjust the halter on my dress. When I give her a thumbs up, she opens the door and Mitch rushes past us in a blur.

"You shouldn't wait so long, Mitch. Geez." Kitty hurries out and I follow her. By the time I get the door shut, Kitty is gone.

The dining room is quiet as I walk through it. The tension has dissipated and the table has been cleared. A trio of cobalt blue candlesticks decorate the space now, each holding a half spent candle. The tabletop decorations seem to be part of a rotating collection. I distinctly remember a vase of pussy willows sitting there before. Where does Miss K keep all her crap? In the cellar that's off limits?

Heather and Faye are playing a game of scrabble in the sitting room, which I figure they do a lot. They look pretty engrossed, so I decide not to disturb them. Jessie and Adeline are ensconced in Jessie's room upstairs. The door is cracked, making it obvious they don't want to be disturbed. Miss K's shutters are closed, which means she's taking a nap, something that happens frequently when the house is quiet. I don't know where Kitty ran off to. She always has something to do. If I offered to help her, would the other girls snub me? And where's Nate? Is he out back with Mitch? Did Bastian and Ben return from their hunt for the outpost's most wanted dirtbag? There's only one way to find out.

"What are you doing out here, Ivy? The outpost is no place for a tender female like yourself." Mitch crosses his arms and strikes a warrior pose as he blocks my exit from the back door.

"Stand down, good sir," Ben says, nudging Mitch out of the way. "This fair maiden has my permission to speak." Ben bows in front of me, sweeping his arm behind him. "What be your request, Mistress Ivy?"

I chuckle at them. They remind me of my cousins and the silly stuff we used to do. "So, this is what you two do all day? Play pretend?"

"You get your kicks your way and we'll get our kicks our way." Mitch grins around his toothpick. Of course, I let him get away with his comment. The big lug has grown on me.

"Actually, I came outside to see if Ben was back. I need to talk to him...in private."

Mitch huffs and juts out his chin. "That's gratitude for you. I've been entrusted with a secret that involves Mistress Ivy, but I get tossed out like an old bedpan." He straightens his shoulders and walks to a stool, throwing his leg over it like a hunter claiming his kill.

Ben's face lights up as he follows Mitch over. "What's the secret, Mitch? You have to tell us now."

Mitch snorts. "Us? I said the secret is for Ivy. Not you, Sir Nosey."

"I'm going to tell Ben anyway," I say. "You might as well tell us both."

"Fine." He waves us closer with both hands, like he can't stand keeping the secret any longer. "While Nate and I were waiting for Sir Nosey to come back from his noble quest, he asked a lot of questions about Ivy. Like how old she is and if she works here or just lives here."

"Did you tell him I work here?" I ask, feeling a blush heat my cheeks.

"Sure. You do, don't you?" Mitch's eyes widen, which makes his head look even squarer. "Was I supposed to say no?"

Yes, you boob.

"No, you weren't supposed to say no. I just don't want Nate to be nervous around me. He might seem perfectly normal to you, but he's painfully shy with girls. I figure he's a bloomer."

Mitch laughs. "Then you two were meant for each other."

"Unnecessary, Jarhead." Ben slugs Mitch. It looks playful but Mitch grimaces.

"Who you calling a jarhead, Jarhead?" Mitch starts bouncing on the balls of his feet, letting his arms dangle loose at his sides. He looks like an orangutan.

"I'd appreciate it if neither of you mentioned this to Adeline," I say, breaking up their fake fight. "It's obvious she likes Nate, and I don't want to worry about being poisoned every time she's in the kitchen. In fact, don't mention it to any of the girls. Can you do that for me?"

"My lips are sealed," Mitch says. "But can I add one more thing before I do that? Nate also said Ivy is the prettiest girl he's ever seen." He twists an invisible key on his mouth and throws it over his shoulder.

"Well, of course she is." Ben smiles as he straightens my necklace. "Now, are you done? Mistress Ivy and I have important matters to discuss."

Mitch's teeth clench around the toothpick and he waves us into the house. "Go on and have your private conversation. I'll try not to feel offended. It's not like I..."

Ben shoos me in and shuts the door on Mitch's monologue. "Don't worry about him. He's dealt with worse manners. You've come to find out what happened with Rake haven't you?" He takes a seat on a cedar chest, patting the spot next to him and pulling an overly dramatic face.

"Well, it didn't take long for us to find him. He was laid up in an alley, curled in the fetal position on a pile of disgusting blankets. He didn't even try to defend himself. You really put a hurtin' on him, Ivy." He leans into my cheek and whispers, "I felt no sympathy for the bastard, not after Bastian told me the position he found you in."

"Did he admit to smashing Bastian's airship?"

"Oh, he admitted it alright. He said he cursed Bastian with every blow. He also said as soon as he gets his second wind, he's going back to smash it again."

"Do you think Bastian will be able to get it fixed and get out of here before that?"

"It won't matter. Bastian zapped him with a memory enchantment. Rake won't remember who Bastian is or that he owns an airship for about thirty-six hours. That'll be enough time for Bastian and Nate to make repairs and sail into the wild gray yonder. But there is one other thing you should know, Ivy." Ben lays his oversized hand on my arm. His touch is gentle but my body stiffens. "Rake cursed you too. He said he knew you were a witch and that he'd stay in the outpost until he had his revenge on you. For such an innocent, young thing, you sure have made a lot of enemies."

"I've noticed the same thing. Do you think Bastian could erase me from Rake's memory? I'm not familiar with that enchantment."

"Bastian can't do it. You have to do it yourself. Memory enchantments are very personal. And, if I have anything to say about it, you're not going anywhere near that degenerate. I'm referring to Rake, not Bastian."

He smiles, exposing his dimples, and I'm compelled to wrap my arms around his chest. It's like hugging a bear, but he smells wonderful, like patchouli and baby powder.

"Thanks, Ben. I'm glad we're friends. I don't plan to get within smelling distance of that degenerate, but it won't stop me from imagining him dangling by his toes from Bastian's airship as it flies over hot lava. And if he ever sticks his nose in my business again, I'll demonstrate how a witch gets revenge."

Ben crosses his arms and looks me up and down. "Girl, you're going to be trouble with a capital T."

CAST PHOTO: Mackenzie Foy as Kitty

PLAYLIST SONG: Turn of a Friendly Card by Alan Parsons Project