The tension sitting on shoulders felt even more heavy as I kept myself from shooting any more arrows without thinking. I waited patiently for her to continue.
“You're gonna text Caellum. He doesn't know you, and we’re gonna ambush him as soon as he steps foot on campus.”
She was putting my adventure to death and resurrecting planned revenge.
“He knows who I am,” my voice was weak and almost fit into a whisper.
I shouldn't be admitting I reached out to Caellum, let alone that we had some kind of private message rapport.
Everyone looked equally shocked and displaced with their immediate anger. I forced myself to keep my gaze up and shoulders back; I wasn’t going to crumble.
“Does Bolton know? You know loyalty to him is, like, required.”
Kate didn’t say required for what exactly, but I got the point. Bolton and loyalty were synonymous. Got it. I shook my head trying to let it soak in further, down deeper, to a spot that would brand my memory.
I didn't want to justify her with a response. Of course Bolton knew, there wasn't much he didn't know.
I wasn't keen on keeping anything from him after how he reacted so similarly as Kate just had. I was actively avoiding telling him about the pages I found after he left the woods.
I knew I needed to show him before he found out on his own.
Kate ripped my phone from my hand, pulled up the app I messaged Caellum on, and bypassed all my password locks without a single hesitation. She typed exhaustively as she spoke out loud each word under her fingers.
Every time she mashed me and effort together, she came out on the other end, seeming so vexed to even be bothered.
It made me cringe.
Text: Hey, do you want to meet before the game tomorrow? Little pre-game celebration?
She smirked at my phone, almost letting her cheeks tint a slight pink, and I knew that meant he replied.
They crowded my phone like it was magic, while I pretended to be bored.
Being the new kid fourteen times really drove home the lesson of not showing people when you care. Showing you care gave you away, and in a snap, that one moment of weakness could be used against you. If I didn’t care, then no one else did either.
Win, win.
She read his response out loud: “Switching teams? I’m happy to steal anything belonging to Bolton.”
I rolled my eyes in such disappointment. He didn’t suspect anything. Bolton wouldn’t choose an opponent that wasn’t worthy, and this guy was stupid. He was thinking with his dick instead of strategy.
I needed more time to get to know our enemy, but Kate moved the timeline up to tomorrow.
She knew her castle was on fire, her crown chipped, and her reign over; that’s when moves become messy instead of calculated.
The walk back to the dorms was quiet and slow. The adrenaline was fading, and my thirst for adventure wasn’t even close to quenched.
Luna ripped off her black bulky clothes quickly and let her strawberry curls fall down from the pony tail.
She was beautiful in this innocent way, like nothing bad had ever happened to her and everything was still well intact.
She gathered her shower supplies and headed into our cozy bathroom to shower, while I carefully opened my bedside table drawer to the pages I hadn’t fully inspected yet. I hid them in plain sight, holding the tradition both Bolton and Henry Jon held, between the pages of the book it was once ripped from.
My fingers ran over the creases carefully, smoothing them down and looking over his penmanship.
Henry Jon
With Pastor Cotton, Blacksmith Samuel, and Ranger Charles, we were determined to exhaust ourselves with finding their weakness. Our days were numbered, until I had to hold up my end of the bargain. We needed a deicide, the killer of false gods. I prayed every night for guidance from the one and only true God. Right when we were defeated most, after we called upon everyone, but the Devil himself to call back his children, we were given a holy sign.
My sweet daughter would sleep walk on occasion, for this reason I strung a bell to her door handle that alerted me she was scampering off. We had gone months without her waking in the darkness, until the Devil, who lived on the edge of town, taunted her faith.
I tied my robe around my midsection and grabbed my gun, standing at attention next to my lamp. I followed behind her, far enough to not wake her, but close enough to see without a lamp. She walked into the woods, like she had known every twig, pebble, and curve of the land by heart. I stopped behind a thick tree when she stopped, peering slightly, watching her kneel down onto the thick grass.
I had never seen my sweet girl speak in tongues when she woke in the night. Her voice was smooth, like she was almost singing, when she spoke the word Ophiotaurus. She was speaking the Devil's language, and it shook my faith in my God. My pure, innocent Rosalia was being dragged deeper into the grasp of the Devil.
I waited, watching her hands feel the grass around her, like she was blind, until I heard the grass moving. I couldn’t spot the culprit of the movements, but I heard it coming as I aimed my gun to shoot right past her ear if I saw a threat. I froze when I saw a bull emerge his head from the bushes. I allowed my breath to even out as I steadied my hands again. Rosalia got up from her knees and presented sugar cubes to the animal, like it was her pet horse. I watched the bull push forward, and I saw the rest of its body was a serpent.
The door to the bathroom creeped open, scaring the shit out of me as I read along, feeling every tang of anxiety Henry Jon did.
She casually asked after glaring at the old book in my lap, “Working on your project?”
I should have been, but I was captive to Rosalia’s story. I needed to know what had happened to her like I needed to breathe.
Something inside me felt connected to her more than someone who was just relating to the character; she was changing something inside me, awakening a cosmic struggle.
I retired from my book after Luna snuggled up into bed and clearly was getting ready to sleep. Not willing to disrupt her sleep, I flicked my lamp off and closed the book with the new pages still unread.
Arianna
On game days, campus seemed less gloomy and more alive. I was the displaced dark cloud in the perfect sky today. I had a date with revenge that didn't feel right, and it was stirring my thoughts all day.
Bolton didn't even come to class, and the loyalty branded in my mind was churning with guilt, more and more, with every class change and saunter down the hallway without him there.
Kate was giddy in French, like she couldn't wait for the moment Caellum was alone, even though I was in the dark about what was actually going to transpire after that.
I get him alone, and then what? I talk him to death? Great plan, Kate.
I leaned over my desk during our quiz to gain her attention, while I watched her pink pen glide from question to question effortlessly, especially for someone who talked instead of learning.
I was trying to decipher any of the gibberish on my quiz, having never taken French, and I had paid attention as much as I could, just to get further lost.
“We need to talk about the plan.”
She didn't even look up from her paper. “Don't worry about it. I've got it.”
I was being kept in the dark without even a lighter—a stupid little lighter that would barely illuminate anything.
Going to class, I looked for Bolton, or even Nyx. My conscience wanted me to come clean to him before I found out what Kate’s plan really was.