The planning did not go well. No one could think of a plausible idea. There were plenty of good ones, but none of them were sure to work out—they were all too risky, or too far-fetched, or too half-formed.

Bran called us all to meet down by the river two weeks after market day to listen to another one of his plans. The townspeople seemed to have forgotten about all the incidents with the Blesseds, although there were still quite a few who raised their prices, or quickly walked away, or made unkind comments when they saw us coming.

When we had all arrived at the river, Bran said, "What if we offer to open a school for Blesseds?"

Reed shook his head. "My father would never allow it."

"Just hear me out. We build it somewhere outside the town borders—far enough away that no damage could be done to the town by any magic we cast. We teach Blesseds to wield their powers. We tell them when it's safe to do so and when it's not, and we show them how to hide them and stop from using them by accident."

"It won't work. My father believes—or at least he pretends to believe—that any use of a Blessed's magic will bring the curse back down upon us."

"So we figure out a way to say it that makes it clear any consequences will be felt by us, and not them. We tell him-"

"Help!"

Our heads all snapped up, turning toward the direction the voice had come from. It sounded like a young boy.

"Help!" he shouted again.

A few moments later, he came into view, young and soaking wet. We stood and rushed over to him. It took a moment to calm him down.

"In... the river..." he gasped.

I knelt down in front of him. "Breathe. It's going to be all right."

He shook his head frantically. "No! In... river..."

"Breathe," I repeated. "Your body needs air. You won't be any use to us if you can't speak. Breathe with me."

Slowly, carefully, we took a few deep breaths together.

"My friend," he said once he'd caught his breath. "We were all sitting on a branch. We told him it wasn't a good idea, but he-"

"What happened?" I interrupted. "Tell us what happened. What's going on?"

The boy wiped away a tear. "He fell in the river."

I shot to my feet, running over to the riverside. The boy followed me.

"How close to here did he fall in?" I asked.

"Just upriver."

I closed my eyes, trying to picture the upstream area, but I hadn't come here much at all. I had no idea what it looked like.

"Are there any falls? Any big rocks he might smash into, or trees that he might get caught under?"

"I don't know," the boy sobbed.

Reed knelt beside him, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. "Think. Close your eyes and try to remember."

The boy did, and after a moment, he shook his head. "There's nothing. The river should be safe."

"We need to catch him," I said, already pulling off my outer jacket. "I'll jump in and swim him to shore."

Bran stopped me. "Fyra, the current's too strong."

"I'll use my deathbirds, then."

"There he is," the boy shouted, pointing.

A small body struggled through the water. The boy's friend was thrashing around more than he was actually swimming—probably panicked from the shock of the cold water.

I pulled out of Bran's grasp. "I'm going."

"No," said Reed, and the tone in his voice was so definite I actually took a step back.

"Why not? Do you have a better idea?"

He had already taken his pen out of his pocket, and he'd begun to scribble something on his wrist.

"Don't," I said. "You know what will happen."

"There's no one here to see me."

I looked around. He was right. No one... but the panicked boy who was frantically wiping away the tears blurring his vision so he could watch the plight of his friend.

I stepped forward and slipped my hand into his. "Why don't you come take a walk with me?"

"But my friend," he said. "I can't leave him. You have to help him."

"Reed will help," I told him. "I need you to come take a walk with me, though, help me stay calm. Can you do that?"

The boy nodded. "Yeah. I can do that."

Gently, I used the small hand within my grasp to steer him forward, into the forest, until we were far enough away that I wasn't worried about him seeing Reed's magic.

Leaves crunched somewhere in front of us, and I frowned. "Did you come out here alone?"

He shook his head. "My other friends came with me, and a few of their older siblings who had nothing to do. We were going to go fishing. Grant thought he saw a really big fish under a rock, but the branch broke before he could catch it."

"But there were others with you?"

"Yes."

Inwardly, I cursed. The footsteps were quickly getting closer, and I could see the people coming through the trees, sprinting at top speed.

"Go to your friends," I told the boy. "They'll take care of you for now. I have to go help my friends."

I released his hand and turned around, running back to Reed and Bran and Lark as quickly as I could. Reed was concentrating as a large, tentacle-covered creature carried the small boy out of the river.

"You've got to hurry," I blurted. "They're coming. They're right behind me. They'll see you using your powers if you aren't done quickly enough."

But they were already here. I could hear the conversation of the kids behind me halt as they saw a monster carry their friend out of the river and place him gently on the rocks before fading to nothing. Reed let out a breath, and Bran ducked under his arm to support him. The use of his Blessing had taken its toll on him.

Greta—a kid my age I'd known from school—stepped forward, righteous anger on her face. "You're not supposed to do that."

I breathed in slowly and deeply, then took a leap of faith. "No one has to know." Greta's eyes grew wide, and I rushed to continue. "Reed saved his life. Does it really matter how he did it?"

"Yes!" Greta burst out. "Yes, it matters. People might die because of what he did."

"Or people might not die because of it." I motioned to the kid who'd fallen in, who was now coughing and sitting up, surrounded by a group of young admirers. "He's going to be fine. No one was hurt."

"Yet. No one was hurt yet."

"Please," I said. The word was my last defense.

Greta batted it easily aside. "You haven't done the right thing."

"You wanted us to let him drown?"

"We wanted you to find a different way to save him. A way that's not dangerous." She turned away. "I'm going to tell the Head Man. Your friend had better prepare himself, because this is the last free day he's going to get for a while."

Reed and Lark and Bran and I walked slowly back to the town, savoring our last few moments together before we were torn apart by the townspeople. Greta had run back to tell the Head Man. She'd probably reached the Town Hall by now.

A thought came to me unbidden: if Mam had heard the news, she was probably worried sick.

The townspeople rushed onto Reed as soon as he stepped into the town. There were teenagers among the mob. One of them threw a punch, hitting Reed in the gut and shouting, "stupid magic user!" before being dragged out of the fray and reprimanded by his Mam.

But the damage had already been done. Reed struggled angrily now, and my eyes widened in horror as I saw he'd brought out his pen. He began scribbling something on his wrist.

The Head Man snatched the pen from his fingers. He'd pushed his way through the mess, people parting in front of him as though he was some sort of god. Now he looked down disapprovingly on Reed, who had been driven to his knees in the struggle.

"You use your magic against your own people?" he said disbelievingly.

Reed raised his head proudly. "You're the ones who made me do it. I'm here for saving a child from drowning in the river."

"With your magic?"

"Yes."

The Head Man shook his head sadly, turning so that he could proclaim his next words to the crowd that had gathered. "This is what happens when we allow magic to enter our midst. People take the easy way. People don't bother to think through their actions."

His voice broke. "My son has disobeyed our rules. He has broken our laws. He has tried to use his magic against the people in this town, after illegally using it once already." Slowly, he turned to look at Reed. His eyes went hard and cold. "He has made himself into our enemy, so we will treat him as such." Somehow, his gaze found mine in the crowd, and I flinched at his next words. "A week from now, Reed will be executed as an example to those who think themselves above the law."

Oh YIKES. That's not good at all! Vote if you hope Fyra and Lark and Bran can find a way to save Reed!