by A. R. Kahler
When the assembly was finally over, I booked it from the hall and out into the cold morning air. I gulped it down. I paced back and forth in front of the theater, telling myself it would all be okay. I would talk to Kaira, and it would all be okay.
Ethan wandered away from Oliver a few moments later, his hands sunk deep into the pockets of his pea coat, a guarded look on his face.
“Why did she lie?” I asked Ethan the moment he was near. I had to focus on that; otherwise I’d start wondering what was wrong with my brain.
“Shut up,” he whispered. He glanced around, but no one was paying us any attention. The few kids who lingered outside were in small groups, talking or heading out to wherever. The morning was free, and only Ethan and I knew something was amiss. At least beyond the obvious.
Ethan started walking away from the main campus, toward the lake. I followed at his side. When we were safely out of earshot, he started speaking.
“I don’t know what’s going on anymore.”
His words were flat. It was an understatement and we both knew it, but hearing him say it gave me a spark of hope.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Ethan seemed to consider my question for a moment. Like he didn’t fully understand what he meant himself. “I mean yes, she was lying. Maybe not about the heart attack, but definitely about him being in the office. But what does that tell you?”
“That she’s covering something up.”
“Maybe. It also means no one came forward. If any of those students you saw fleeing reported something, she’s keeping it under wraps.”
“Or they didn’t say anything at all.”
“Either way, you might be in the clear. If they reported you, you’d already be in for questioning. And I doubt they’d wait to speak up.”
I couldn’t imagine I would be that lucky.
“It also means . . .” He sighed.
“What?”
“It also means I trust you.”
I stopped walking.
“Why? What changed your mind?”
He shrugged and looked into the woods. The trees were stark and empty, snow lying thick and undisturbed on the ground. I wanted to say it looked beautiful. Instead, it just felt cold and barren.
When he finally answered, his words seemed to get eaten up by the emptiness.
“If they had said the truth in the assembly, that Jonathan died exactly like the others, I might think you had something to do with it. But they’re hiding the truth.” He shook his head like he was trying to ignore his own thoughts. “I don’t know what’s real anymore, Chris. Jonathan died just like the others: no marks, no note, no reason. I don’t think that’s something you could pull off. Whatever this is, it’s—”
“Supernatural.”
He glared at me. “I was going to say ‘unnatural,’ but yeah. I guess that works too. Something is wrong. Maybe they’re keeping things a secret because they’re covering it up or because they don’t honestly have a clue. In any case, I don’t think you killed him. Or the others. And I also believe you about Kaira.”
My heart skipped over.
“What? You believe me?”
“Not about all of it,” he muttered. “But something’s going on. She didn’t respond to my texts. At all. And when I went by her dorm to get her for breakfast, she flat out refused to see me.”
“And that makes you suspicious?”
Me telling him about Kaira being taken over by ravens didn’t ring an alarm, but her not responding to texts did? Even though I was mildly hopeful, it also felt a bit like betrayal. He would always believe her over me. And that’s why you need to get her to tell him what happened.
“Kaira isn’t like that. She doesn’t just push people out. I’ve nursed her back to health before. I’ve been there for her through . . . everything. Something about this just seems wrong.”
“You think she was there last night?”
“Maybe. I don’t buy your story. But there’s too much here for it to be a coincidence. She was healthy yesterday.” He kicked a pile of snow.
“We need to talk to her,” I said.
“I know. But I don’t think even my charms could get us past the RA.”
There was always Elisa. There was always dropping by the room during open hours. But that wasn’t until the evening.
“We could sneak in,” I offered.
“In the middle of the day? While classes are out?”
“What else? We have to try, Ethan. I’m going to go insane if I just sit around, wondering if she’s okay. Especially because we both know she’s not.”
“I know, I know . . .”
My gut twisted with a different thought.
“Ethan . . . what if you’re right? And this is unnatural? What if she’s next?”
He stopped fidgeting and looked at me. His eyes were wide.
“You think she . . .”
“We don’t know what the others felt beforehand. But she’s acting sick. Distanced. And she was there last night.”
“Shit,” he whispered. When he turned, he didn’t just walk back to campus. He ran.
Somehow we both managed to make it to Kaira’s dorm without falling on our asses. We gathered ourselves outside the door and walked in slowly. I knew that if we were going to pull this off, we had to act normal. Ethan had to act normal. But that didn’t mean my pulse wasn’t racing, that the urge to run through the dorm and pound on Kaira’s dorm wasn’t strong. I held back. Kept my hands in my pockets, my face smooth.
I let Ethan do all the talking.
“You know I’m not supposed to let you two up there,” Maria said from behind the front desk.
“I know, I know,” Ethan told the RA. “And I wouldn’t normally ask. But I’m really worried about her. She isn’t returning my calls. And she skipped breakfast.”
Maria quirked an eyebrow. She was always flawless—perfect makeup, perfect hair. Even today, in all black, she looked like she was auditioning as a fifties pinup.
“Well, let me see if she’s up for company.”
She picked up the phone and dialed. I exchanged a glance with Ethan. He didn’t know why I was so nervous. He hadn’t seen all the birds outside her window last night.
He didn’t have gods saying he was going to kill her.
I watched Maria’s expression intently. She bit her lower lip, and after a few moments hung up the phone.
“She’s not answering,” she said.
Obviously.
“We should check on her,” Ethan ventured.
“No, I should,” she said. Then she looked us over and gave a little half smile. “Still, I know she’d probably be happier to see you than me. Just don’t tell anyone I let you do this. It’s probably against protocol.”
Ethan nodded gravely and I said nothing as Maria got out from behind the desk and headed toward the stairs.
It took a lot of self-control not to run up the stairs in front of her. My body was electric as we walked down the hall. This was slow, too slow. Kaira needed me. Kaira needed . . . Kaira probably needs you far away from her, lunatic.
I pushed down the thoughts when we arrived at Kaira’s door. There were a few magazine cutouts, and the floor sparkled with the remnants of glitter still stuck in the carpet. I wasn’t focusing on that. I was focusing on the heat of my breath, on the unnatural silence that seemed to creep down the hall like a fog.
Maria knocked out a rhythm and waited. No response. Which meant Elisa wasn’t in and Kaira . . . She’s just asleep. She’s okay. I couldn’t block out the image from the night before—had it happened? Had I seen that?—of a thousand birds crowding her window. Watching. Protecting. Protecting her from me. Or whatever it was that wanted to take control of me.
Another knock, this time followed with, “Kaira, are you in?” in a slightly worried tone.
Still no answer. The blood in my ears pounded.
Maria opened the door.
The shades were drawn, and even though I heard
the familiar clicking of the ancient radiator, the room was as cold as ice. Quiet as the woods in the snow. And everywhere I looked, crouching in the shadows like specters, were ravens.
Again, as one, their eyes turned toward us the moment we opened the door. Turned toward me. And in the back of my mind I felt something awaken: a ripple of searing hatred, a growl that curled in my lungs like the scream of a hawk.
But the birds didn’t move to attack. They didn’t shift from the desks and counters, from Elisa’s bed that shined like a beetle’s back, every surface glistening and oily and black.
“Kaira?” Maria ventured again. Her voice seemed to echo in the room. Still, the birds didn’t move. My skin crawled.
I wanted to warn Maria away. It wasn’t safe in here. The birds would attack if we—
Maria walked in, completely oblivious to the birds that sat like sentinels all around Kaira, like the room had grown a second skin. The birds seemed oblivious to her, as well. She pulled back a curtain, letting in a thin billow of gray light. The moment the room lightened, the birds dissolved in billows of smoke.
I shook my head. Get it together, Chris. Get it together.
Then I saw Kaira, and all thoughts of the ghostly birds vanished.
She was curled up in her bed, the sheets wrapped around her like a cocoon. Her face was half covered by the sheets, but I could see her eyes—dark and shaded, but not with makeup. She looked pallid, like her skull was pressing closer to her skin. Maria made a worried noise in her throat and stepped over to the bedside while Ethan and I hovered a few steps away. My breath returned, but that didn’t mean I felt relaxed. She was sick. Beyond sick. And at any moment, I expected the girl to break apart into birds.
Kaira was here. Whole. What did that mean for my story?
“Kaira?” Maria whispered. “Kaira, baby? Are you okay?”
Kaira grumbled. Maria put a hand on Kaira’s forehead.
“She’s freezing,” she whispered. She glanced back to us. “I think we need to take her to the nurse.”
Ethan and I exchanged a glance. We needed to talk to Kaira. Which meant we needed Maria out of the room. I wanted to scream in frustration. Kaira was there. Right there. And I couldn’t ask her what I needed to ask her. I couldn’t confirm anything about last night. I didn’t care if it was against the rules or something; I stepped over to Kaira’s side.
“Kaira,” I whispered. “Can you hear me?”
She mumbled and shifted over, her eyes fluttering open for a second. At least her eyes weren’t purple.
“Chris?” she whispered. Scared. Like she was calling out for help. Then she groaned and pulled the sheets tighter around her, effectively covering her face.
I reached out to touch her shoulder before I could stop myself.
My vision burst white, then black, and I was standing in the darkness. Standing in a pool of light. Shadows writhed against the perimeter. Shadows that twisted and fluttered with glistening feathers, with claws that slashed, with glassy eyes. Millions of ravens, pressing against the light. Trying to break in. To kill me. To take us.
Kaira was before me. Her dark skin looked bleached out, her limp hair entwined with feathers. Around us, inked into the ground like smeared blood, was a ring. The only thing keeping the birds at bay. The only thing keeping us in.
“Chris,” Kaira whispered, her eyes the flat white of terror. “Don’t let her take me.”
And there, behind her, just outside the circle and glowing like a wraith, was the ghost of a girl. Her hair was long and black, her skin porcelain and covered in a cloak of raven feathers. Her eyes were the same violet as Kaira’s had been last night.
“Chris!” Kaira flung out a desperate hand, but as I reached back, the vision shattered, pierced by a pain on my shoulder that nearly made me scream out.
I blinked, and I was back in her room. Back at her bedside. With only the lingering pain of the falcon’s claws on my shoulder. With only the echo of his promise, that I would be the one to destroy her.
“Come on, boys,” Maria said. Her words broke the final bonds of whatever spell I’d been under. Reality snapped back into focus. She took my arm, gently, but clearly not willing to let go. What was that? What did it mean? “We should go. I’ll call the nurse.”
She started to draw me away. I didn’t budge.
“Come on, Chris,” Ethan said. “She’s clearly not in a place to talk.”
He wasn’t looking at me, though. He couldn’t take his eyes off Kaira. It was clear from that expression that he was just as worried as I. And that he knew there was more to this than a cold. Even without the visions, the room didn’t feel right. He had to feel it. Something terrible was happening, and Kaira was at the center of it all.
Maria guided me away from the bed, toward the door. I didn’t want to go with her. I couldn’t just let Kaira lie there. But what could I do? Even if I stayed, how could I help? The answer was simple: I couldn’t. Whatever this was, it was beyond me. It was beyond any of us.
But that didn’t mean I was going to stop trying.
Numb, I let Maria take us back down to the lobby, where she called for the nurse to come and check on Kaira. It was clear Maria was dismissing us, but I didn’t want to go. I lingered there, watching her lips move but not actually hearing her speak. All I could think of were the screams of ravens. Their eyes on me as I entered the room, as I tried to spy on Kaira. All I could sense was the taste of my blood as their talons slashed me apart. . . .
“Come on.” Ethan nudged me. “We have to find Erik about that sketch.”
His words jolted me back to action.
If I found out what Jonathan had been doing, I could figure out how to undo it. I knew it was all connected—the birds, the deaths, the bloody circles, and the nightmares. They’d been playing with something. Forces that even I knew they shouldn’t have been. If I wanted to stop them, I needed to figure out what we were dealing with.
I needed to figure out how to destroy the god or hallucination or whatever the fuck it was trying to take over my mind. Otherwise, how could I rescue Kaira from the same thing?
“She’s not sick,” I said when we were outside. “You know it.”
He glanced at me. There was a lot of weight in that expression, but I couldn’t figure out which way it was falling.
“I don’t know what I believe right now,” Ethan said.
He looked away and continued walking toward Erik’s dorm. I expected him to say more, but the silence stretched between us. I wasn’t going to break it, not if it meant losing his tentative trust. He led us through the lobby and down a hall. He knocked at a door the same as all the rest. Instantly my palms went cold with sweat. What the hell was I supposed to ask? Hey Erik, what sort of strange ritual did you do last night, because I’m pretty certain it killed Jonathan, and now my friend is acting strange and has a terrible illness.
A guy I recognized from last semester’s poetry class answered the door. Nick. But I wasn’t paying him any attention. I was looking behind him.
“Shit,” I whispered.
He looked to me, clearly confused.
“Um. Hi?”
“Sorry,” Ethan said. But his voice had just as much disappointment as mine. Because half of the room behind Nick was empty. Or, mostly empty—there were spare socks and a few small boxes and a stack of bowls on the empty bed. Like someone had left in a rush. “I take it Erik’s not in?” Ethan continued.
Nick shook his head, clearly still wondering what we wanted and why we were both upset over not finding it.
“He left first thing this morning. Said his parents told him to come home.” He shrugged. “Can’t say I blame him. Shit’s fucked up.”
I closed my eyes. Tina was already gone. Erik had left. The other students who’d gone home had probably been those involved. They had seen something terrible happen in that classroom. They knew that there was something out there, something supernatural, worth running from.
If I was smart, I’d have l
eft as well. But there was no way I would leave Kaira’s side.
I would save her if it was the last thing I did.
“Did he leave a contact number or anything?” Ethan asked.
This was why I needed Ethan around. His brain worked when mine went into shutdown mode.
“Yeah,” Nick said, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I have his cell. What do you need it for? I dunno if he wants me giving it out.”
“Class,” Ethan said smoothly. “We were going to be doing a project together. Was just dropping by to grab his notes, but if he already left . . . Well, don’t want to be adrift.”
Nick looked between the two of us. My stomach churned at the way he seemed to study me. Like he knew I was involved in something. Like this was suspicious enough to raise questions.
Stop. Being. Paranoid.
Whatever Nick saw, it wasn’t enough to deny Ethan Erik’s number. Ethan thanked him and led me away before I could ask any questions. Probably because Ethan could tell I wanted to, and knew it was a horrible idea. We left and made our way to Ethan’s room.
The place was warm and cozy in a way mine never was. Glowing fairy lights draped over the photo-laden shelves, and the air smelled like cinnamon and cloves. A harsh contrast to the stark white walls and scent of old socks from living with Mike. Instead, Ethan’s room reminded me of the teahouse Kaira had taken me to, T’Chai Nanni. My heart twisted just at the thought of her.
“You want to do the honors?” Ethan asked, flopping down on his bed. He shoved a few throw pillows aside and patted the bed next to him, his cell phone in hand. I sat down but couldn’t even pretend to make myself comfortable.
I took the phone and dialed Erik’s number.
It rang twice before he answered.
“Who is this?” His voice was gruff. Like he’d been crying. Or running hard.
“Erik?”
“Who is this?” he repeated.
I looked to Ethan, wondering if I should lie. I barely knew Erik. I mean, I’d seen him around, had him in my math class. But we weren’t friends.
