“Bog beast!” she hissed, fire magic sparking between her fingers. A pang of memory brought me back to the night the other Heirs and I had coated Darcy in mud, compacting it so thickly onto her skin that she couldn’t break free. Cries of ‘bog beast’ had been heard all across campus when she’d gone running away from us, and FaeBook had blown up with photos of her looking like she’d just crawled out of the nearest swamp. I guessed karma really was a bitch.