Echoes of Memory

by A. R. Kahler

  Vomit rose in the back of my throat. I stepped back, about to drop my tray.

  “Hey!” someone yelped. I turned. And there was Tamora, wearing a fur coat and big sunglasses on her head and completely distanced from the violence. I looked back to the cafeteria. To the normal, bustling cafeteria. “Jumpy today,” she said, giving me a look that was a little too piercing for my liking. Does she suspect something . . . ?

  I just apologized and started walking toward where we normally sat. I kept my eyes down. I didn’t want a relapse.

  Then I looked up upon reaching our usual round table, and my heart dropped. Everyone was there. Everyone except Kaira.

  Ethan sat beside his boyfriend, Oliver, and Elisa sat a few chairs from him beside her friend—and Jane’s roommate—Cassie. The space between was obviously meant for Kaira. I bit down my disappointment and sat down beside Ethan. Whatever they were talking about died the moment I sat. Ethan gave me a look. Clearly they were talking about Jonathan’s death.

  “Morning,” I said, nodding to the group. Inside, I was screaming at myself. I needed to talk to Kaira. I couldn’t waste any more time here, pretending things were normal. She needed me. I needed her. I had to go. I had to go. Then I looked at Ethan, and he looked at me like he knew what I was thinking and was strongly suggesting I shouldn’t.

  They all gave their cordial replies, but it was Ethan who leaned over and looked me in the eyes.

  “You doing okay?” he asked. “Looks like you haven’t slept.”

  “Insomnia,” I replied. Which was true enough.

  He gave me another knowing look, so I switched my attention to my food.

  “I’m not crazy,” Cassie muttered, clearly picking up where she’d left off before I’d sat down.

  “No one said you were,” Elisa replied. “But it’s just maybe not something to talk about.”

  “Like you aren’t all wondering if this is some sort of conspiracy.” It was more an accusation than a question, and Cassie looked at each of us in turn. I focused on my coffee. “Think about it. Two girls kill themselves and then Jonathan bites it. That looks pretty damn suspicious to me. What if he slept with them, and they, like, couldn’t stand it, so they offed themselves? And then he felt guilty and did the same.”

  Ethan’s jaw actually dropped, and Elisa stared at Cassie like the girl had sprouted a second head.

  “I can’t believe you just said that,” Elisa whispered. “Jane was my friend.”

  “And my roommate,” Cassie countered. She looked around, seeking support. She didn’t find any. “I knew her better than anyone else. Not to be a bitch, but it’s true. It doesn’t make sense, but it sure as hell makes more sense than what they’ve fed us.”

  “Which was?” Oliver asked, cool and collected as ever.

  “Stress. That Jane killed herself due to stress. She wasn’t stressed. She was doing great. Hell, she’d already been accepted to her top choice. What did she have to be stressed about?”

  “Was she acting strange before she died?” Ethan asked. I noticed he didn’t say killed herself since, like me, he knew that wasn’t what happened.

  Cassie shook her head. “No. But that doesn’t mean something didn’t happen between them.”

  “I think you’re grasping for logic in a situation that has none.” Oliver’s words were deep and resonant. His hand clutched Ethan’s atop the table, his long fingers locked tight. “No one can know what someone is thinking, let alone why they’d take their own life. Speculation isn’t helping. It just creates more harmful rumors.”

  Cassie didn’t exactly glare at him, but her look was a mix of hurt and angry.

  “It could add up. You just don’t want it to,” she said, and then stood and left without another word.

  When Cassie was out of earshot, Elisa leaned in on her elbows. “She’s not the only one thinking that,” she said. “I heard some other girls on the way in. They think Jonathan got the girls pregnant, and then guilt got the better of him.”

  I thought of the circle on the floor, of the kids fleeing the room. I still had no idea what had gone on in there. No clue what Jonathan had been doing, or if it had been the same situation with Mandy and Jane. Maybe there was a hint of truth to it. The circle and what I’d seen looked ritualistic. Maybe he had been playing a darker part—maybe he’d been forcing the girls into something all along, making their deaths look like suicide. I wouldn’t rule out the pregnancy thing—wasn’t that always how it worked in those cults? Sleep with the leader to gain enlightenment? But I couldn’t see Mandy or Jane falling for that. Not at all.

  Which meant I needed to find the kids who were involved. Force Erik and Tina to talk. They’d tell me. After last night, they would have had to know that something was up.

  “Speculation’s not the worst of it,” Oliver muttered, staring into his coffee mug.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Kids are already getting pulled from school.”

  He glanced around the table at us.

  “My mom called this morning,” Oliver continued. “Said she’d heard what had happened. I had to convince her not to withdraw me. Told her it was fine and I was safe and not getting caught up in anything. They think it’s a cult or something.”

  “Who left?” I asked. My heart dropped as I glanced behind me, like maybe I’d notice a missing face in the sea of kids.

  “I don’t really know,” he replied.

  “Tina left,” Elisa whispered. “I saw her on the phone with her mom last night. She was in the lobby and begging them to come get her.”

  One down. How many others from that classroom were running away?

  I looked to Ethan.

  “Any guys?”

  Ethan shrugged, but his face was solemn. He clearly knew what I was getting at. If the kids who were there last night went home, I’d have no other alibis and no clue what was going on inside that room. No idea what they were meddling with. But that also meant there would be fewer people to point fingers at me.

  I needed to find Erik before he vanished too.

  “Is Kaira okay?” I asked.

  Ethan shot me a glance, but Elisa actually grinned a little. Like she thought it was cute. My cheeks flushed; of course, she just thought I was crushing on her roommate.

  “She’s sick,” Elisa said. “Wouldn’t budge from bed. So I’m going to bring her some tea and a bagel after breakfast. I could bring her a note as well if you’d like.” Her grin widened, and she actually found the humor to wink.

  “No, thanks,” I said, busying myself with the pancakes. “Just wanted to make sure.”

  Conversation devolved into the usual, but even the talk of classes and homework and recitals felt forced. Maybe it was just me projecting. But everyone seemed stilted, like they couldn’t figure out how to make something that should have been routine seem normal. My eyes kept darting around the cafeteria, waiting for someone to point a finger. Waiting for Kaira to show up. Waiting to see a raven or crow or falcon outside the window.

  By nine, none of those things had happened, and the two mugs of coffee I’d downed had done nothing to clear my head or rid the sluggish dread from my veins. I wanted so badly to run to Kaira’s dorm and force her awake. But I would never get past the front desk. And without Elisa up there to answer the phone for Kaira, she was as good as on another planet.

  When we stood up to leave for the assembly, I stayed back and put a hand on Elisa’s shoulder. Ethan cast me another look, clearly warning, but Oliver ushered them both away before Ethan could tell me to keep my mouth shut.

  “Are you okay?” Elisa whispered. She looked me in the eyes when she said it. There was no option of lying; she could read me like a book. It wasn’t fair that actors got to learn all about body cues.

  “Not really,” I replied. “This whole thing . . .” I sighed, tried to hold eye contact like I normally would, because it was a sign of respect. I couldn’t meet her gaze. Not now. “It’s all really fucked up. I had nightmare
s all night.”

  Her eyes tightened.

  “I think we’ve all had enough nightmares for one lifetime,” she whispered. “It doesn’t help when your waking life’s no better.”

  I nodded.

  “You like her, don’t you?” she asked. The words cut through my daze.

  “Yeah,” I said. It didn’t make sense; I barely knew her. But I couldn’t stop thinking about her. My pulse raced every time I watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear while painting, or when she laughed at one of Ethan’s jokes. She was a strange mix of nonchalant and poised, like she tried so hard to perfect one image of herself, she didn’t notice all the stray threads poking out. And those were what ensnared me.

  “I say this as her best friend,” Elisa said. “She doesn’t need any more pain in her life, okay? She’s dealt with enough. So you better examine every one of your intentions and make sure they’re pure. Because I swear, if you so much as make her sniffle, I will end you.”

  There was a fierceness in her voice that actually made me lean back.

  My immediate reaction was to say no, of course I wasn’t going to hurt her. There was a bond between Kaira and me that I couldn’t understand, one that laced deeper than attraction or lust or affection. We were bound by something stronger than fate. We were bound by tragedy. By death. I couldn’t inflict any worse pain on her than that.

  I opened my mouth to say that she was fine, that I would never hurt her, when another thought gripped me by the throat.

  You will kill her, Endbringer. Your promises are naught but lies.

  Elisa’s eyebrow raised as I clearly struggled with myself.

  “This is the point where you say you’d never hurt her,” she offered.

  “I wouldn’t,” I choked. Why did it sound like a question?

  “Right.” She looked me up and down. “Convincing. Why did you want to talk to me again?”

  “I just . . . I wanted to make sure she was okay.”

  “I told you, she’s just sleeping. She’s been stressed and overworked—she deserves a day to rest.”

  I glanced around. There was no way to say this without sounding crazy or creepy.

  “Could you just . . . could you make sure? I’m worried about her. She said some things to me yesterday.”

  Instantly Elisa’s gaze became sharper than a hawk.

  “What things? When?”

  Begging me to help her as ravens broke from her flesh.

  “Nothing specific. I saw her after we got back from dinner. She said she was scared. Because of, you know. Everything. Then she ran off and didn’t answer my texts. I’m worried.”

  She nodded. We both knew it wasn’t enough of an explanation. Right now, though, with everything going on, it would work.

  “I’ll double-check,” she said.

  “And tell her to call me. Please. I really need to talk to her.”

  Elisa grinned a little.

  “You’re cute, you know that?”

  “I—”

  “Which is good, because you’re also kind of stupid. You could just hang out with me during open room, you know. Kaira would just happen to be there, but we could be doing homework or something together.”

  The idea hadn’t even occurred to me. It felt like a lifeboat.

  “You’d do that? For me?”

  She shrugged.

  “I’m just inviting you to my bedroom. You’re not the first cute guy to get the offer.”

  Despite everything, I actually laughed.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  For the first time in the last twenty-four hours, it felt like I was getting a break. I just had to make it to the end of the day.

  • • •

  Despite the casual air of the cafeteria, the theater we crowded into was as somber as a funeral. Our president, Ms. Kenton, took to the stage in all black, and the room went from quiet to deathly in moments. It was eerie, watching her stand there amid the chains and swathes of tattered fabric from the Marat/Sade set. Like she was the ghost of actions past. Here to remind us that we couldn’t run away forever.

  She stood there in silence for a few moments. I couldn’t tell if she was gathering her words or pausing for dramatic effect; no one spoke, and she had our full attention. Elisa sat at my side, her hands clutched tight in her lap. Cassie sat to her other side. Ethan and Oliver were somewhere else in the crowd.

  “You all know why we are here,” Ms. Kenton finally said. She surveyed the room, and for a moment it almost felt like an accusation. “We are here because last night we lost another member of our family. Mr. Jonathan Almblad, beloved teacher of folklore and myth, has passed away.”

  She began pacing back and forth. The fabric hanging around her swayed like a ghost.

  “I have already begun hearing the tales and rumors of his death. And in a school this small, such rumors can be devastating. We are not here to aggrandize death; we know the pressures facing you are real, and we have made every effort to ease them, and for you to take comfort in our care. We know there is speculation that Mr. Almblad’s death is linked to the passing of your classmates. Let me be the first to say that we have found no connection between these deaths. And, in the manner of full disclosure, it has been relayed to us that Mr. Almblad died of a heart attack in his office.”

  My heart shot to my throat.

  She was lying.

  I tried seeking out Ethan in the crowd, but I couldn’t see him in the shadows. Elisa caught my glance, her lips poised in a question, and I brought my attention back to Ms. Kenton.

  “That is what I have been told to tell you.” She stopped walking. “But that is not the truth, and you know it. There is a murderer within the walls of this school. And we know who he is.”

  Her eyes locked on me.

  “Christopher Wright,” she called, her words ringing out like executioner’s blows. “We know you were there when Jonathan died. We know you had a hand in his murder. And for that, you face death. Grab him.”

  Hands clamped on my wrists. Elisa stared at me, her nails digging into my forearm, and a dancer boy I didn’t know restrained my other wrist. Someone behind me clamped their hands on my shoulders. My heart hammered in my chest as their nails dug into my skin. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be—

  “You were born in bloodshed,” Ms. Kenton said. She walked toward me, stepping over the heads of the kids in front of me, her legs stretching as she ascended the rows of seats. In her hand, she gripped an ornate dagger. “And you will end in bloodshed.”

  “No, please,” I begged. More hands clamped over my lips. My throat. Lifted my chin, exposing my neck.

  Ms. Kenton’s face loomed over me, her head silhouetted in the spotlights like a halo. But it was her eyes that glowed the brightest. Golden. Hawklike.

  “Blood is your power, Endbringer. Your curse and your gift. We will make the world run gold with blood.”

  She pressed the tip of the dagger to my throat. Metal bit into flesh. I tried to squirm, to break free. This isn’t real. This can’t be real. I’m hallucinating.

  “How sure of that are you, Endbringer?” she whispered, her voice hot in my ear. “When reality is yours to bend.”

  I didn’t close my eyes. Couldn’t. I saw her smile as she slid the blade into my throat, sliced through my trachea, cut off my breath and blood. I felt warmth spill down my neck, spread over my chest. But I didn’t die. Didn’t feel the pain. I couldn’t breathe around the blade. And I couldn’t die with the falcon in my blood.

  “The world is yours,” she said. “Make it weep.” Then she jerked the blade to the side, ripped apart my flesh.

  I twitched, flung back.

  She was gone. Only Elisa’s hand remained on my arm, and when I looked over, my breath ragged, she was staring at me. Her eyes were wide with confusion. Sweat dripped down my skin, and my pulse was a chaotic, fluttering thing.

  Ms. Kenton was still on the stage, still pacing back and forth, talking about c
ommunity. She wasn’t staring at me like she knew a deadly secret. No one but Elisa was looking. I hadn’t called out. I hadn’t yelled. Sweat continued to drip down my skin. What the fuck was happening to me?

  “I’m afraid,” Ms. Kenton continued, “in light of recent events, that we are unable to cancel the school day. I wish I could give you the time needed to mourn, but we simply have no more time to spare. We are canceling the morning classes, but your schedules will have to resume after lunch. Those of you who had Jonathan as an adviser are asked to visit the counselor’s office today to be reassigned. Jonathan’s classes will continue with a substitute: our dear English professor, Mrs. Walsh, will be taking over.”

  She sighed. I kept waiting for her to shift, for her sad demeanor to twist into something malevolent. I kept waiting for her to attack, for the rafters to drip blood. What the hell is going on with me? I thought.

  “Death is a terrible force, dear students. Do not for one moment believe that our continuation of classes is meant to be a disservice. Jonathan will be greatly missed. We will hold a vigil tonight for those interested in paying their last respects. Please remember that we are here for you when you need us. At any time.”

  There were a few closing remarks, but I couldn’t pay attention. Not through the fear that this was all an illusion. Not through the terror that coursed through me: I was going insane. I was going insane. And there was no way to tell if what I’d heard was truth. I was too busy trying to sort out the facts from my hallucination. I knew that Ms. Kenton was lying: Jonathan hadn’t died in his office like she had said. He had died in a classroom in a circle of ink, just like the two girls. Maybe it had been a heart attack, but the location was still off. That meant she was covering something. She knew what was going on. Or she was afraid of us knowing. Unless that was a hallucination as well . . .