Page 16 of The Ruthless Rivalry

But then, as if the universe is determined to prove Alfie’s incompetence, the glow flickers and sputters. The eagle’s wings flap wildly, like it’s struggling to stay airborne, before a puff of smoke bursts from its tail. The gilded feathers suddenly start to crackle, and then—whoosh—flames burst out, licking along its wings.

“Not again!” Alfie yelps, scrambling to catch it, but the eagle is a lost cause. The fire spreads, and the thing begins to disintegrate before our eyes, crumbling into ashes. Within moments, what had been a shimmering golden eagle is nothing but a pile of charred remains, the last embers floating away like burnt confetti.

My father jumps back, eyes wide with alarm. He grabs a pitcher of water from a nearby table and douses the remains. The flames hiss, spluttering into oblivion. The room falls into an awkward silence, except for the soft sound of steam escaping from the ruined eagle.

“Well,” Alfie says, his voice small, holding up the scorched remains of the flag. “I guess like all good magic tricks, this one had afirefinale.”

I tilt my head, my mouth tugging into something between a smirk and a grimace.

Yeah… going down in history is one thing. But fire finales? When have those ever actually worked out for anyone?

My dad, still holding the empty pitcher, looks utterly bewildered. “What in the world just happened?” he demands,his earlier amazement completely wiped out by concern and confusion.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Welcome to life with Alfie,” I mutter, shaking my head. One minute it’s wonders beyond imagination, the next it’s nearly setting the place on fire.

“Being a member of Club Bedlam means embracing the chaos and wonder of our future,” Alfie beams, nudging my shoulder.

“What club?” my dad asks, raising a concerned brow in my direction.

“Bedlam,” Alfie replies, too proudly.

“Alex, are you part of this…Bedlam club?” my father asks, the lines in his forehead growing deep with concern.

I open my mouth to explain, but Alfie beats me to it. “Your daughter is our newest recruit! We’re a select group dedicated to pushing the boundaries of magic and embracing the unexpected.”

I resist the urge to groan. Alfie’s enthusiasm is doing me no favors with my increasingly worried-looking father.

Alfie cupped his hand to the side of his mouth, even though he was on the wrong side and I could hear and see what he said. He spoke in a hushed tone toward my father. “Just between us, she’s technically still a pledge, but we at club Bedlam don’t discriminate.”

He swallows hard before speaking my name. “Alex?”

I try to reassure him and quickly add, “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

My dad’s expression tells me he’s not convinced.

“Mr. Prescott, Club Bedlam is all about embracing your inner illusion!” Alfie chirps, oblivious to the fresh wave of tension. “We’re pushing the boundaries of magical theory and practice. Why, just last week, I managed to turn an entire classroom into a swirling vortex of rainbow-colored bubbles! Of course, thebubbles were filled with helium, so everyone’s voices went all squeaky for hours afterward. It was marvelous!”

I cringe inwardly, knowing Alfie’s enthusiastic description is only making things worse. My father’s face has gone from concerned to outright alarmed.

“Alfie,” I hiss, trying to shut him up, but it’s too late.

My father’s face is pale, and I can practically see visions of property damage and lawsuits dancing in his head. I shoot Alfie a glare, but he’s too caught up in his enthusiasm to notice.

“And that’s not all!” Alfie continues, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “At Club Bedlam we’re working on a way to bend the very fabric of reality itself! Just imagine, Mr. Prescott, being able to step through a doorway and emerge anywhere in the world—or even beyond!”

My father’s jaw drops, actually drops. “Alex,” he says slowly, his voice tight, “I think we need to have a serious talk about your decisions in extracurricular activities.”

“And did I mention how your daughter used a plant to communicate with a sentient fungus network last week? Absolutely brilliant, she is! The fungus shared some fascinating insights about the interconnectedness of all living things. It’s like some sort of organic internet. Revolutionary stuff!” Alfie continues.

I groan, my father looks like he’s about to faint.

Revolutionary is one word to describe it, but mostly, what Alfie wasbadlyexplaining is a system where plants and fungi communicate in ways we’re only beginning to understand.

“Alfie,” I say through gritted teeth, “I think that’s enough for now. Dad, it’s not as crazy as it sounds, I promise. It’s really quite a fascinating theory…”

But my father holds up a hand, silencing me. “Is this young man telling me that you’ve been…talking to mushrooms?”

“Not just mushrooms! Alex has shown me how to make contact with all sorts of species. Why, just the other day, I had a rather enlightening conversation with a particularly chatty oak tree. It had some strong opinions about climate change, let me tell you.”

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