Isolde shrugged. ‘Bobby never said.’
They were silent for a moment. ‘Did you get that flyer from Free Countries telling us to go to the Mobilisation March?’ Isolde nodded, and Gwenhwyfar frowned. ‘I thought you said we didn’t do marches?’
‘We don’t organise them. We don’t usually attend others as a group, either. I don’t think it was an order, I think it was a round-robin.’ Her face darkened. ‘I heard from my contact that the New Nationals are going to start restricting unapproved material sent through the post,’ she muttered. ‘So we might not be getting flyers for much longer.’
‘But how will we recruit?’
‘We’ll find a way,’ Isolde promised. ‘Did you go?’
Gwenhwyfar’s pulse quickened as she nodded. ‘Didn’t you?’
‘No. It would’ve been too risky. I don’t know why we were encouraged to go in the first place—it’s completely against protocol.’ She bent her head towards Gwenhwyfar’s, her voice dropping to a dry whisper. ‘Then again, I’ve heard that the Alpha and the Alpha Beta disagree on a lot of things. Apparently, even though the Alpha is in charge, the Alpha Beta is the brains behind the group. If they disagree something like this happens.’
Gwenhwyfar gazed at her, surprised. ‘How do you know that?’
‘My contact knows more than he should,’ Isolde said. ‘He does a lot of research. Don’t worry, it’s totally safe,’ she added, sensing Gwenhwyfar’s concern. ‘He always trawls the archives for “little news” about underground groups. Sometimes things about Free Countries pop up. He’s really smart.’
Gwenhwyfar felt anxiety resurface in the pit of her stomach. ‘Do you think I shouldn’t have gone?’
‘If you kept your identity safe, I don’t think it matters if you went to the march or not. Not as far as Free Countries is concerned, at least.’
They fell into another silence after that, and as time passed it became obvious Isolde was cold. Not quite ready to retreat back into the mad swirl of grotesques, Gwenhwyfar remained outside on her own, enjoying the crispness of the night. It was hard to hear the party from where she sat, and there was nothing to indicate its existence besides a few squares of light and the muffled sound of bass pounding the earth.
Her eyes had been closed for some time when she heard a bark of laughter. ‘Gwen—?’ an unfriendly voice bit. ‘Is that you? It is, isn’t it? What are you doing out here on your own?’
There was an element of sarcasm that belied concern. Frankenstein. Immediately she stood.
‘Hector.’ Another grotesque shadowed his footsteps: a smooth-skinned alien with bug-eyes. ‘What do you want?’
‘Saw you were alone. Thought I’d better come keep you company.’
She resisted the urge to shrink away from him as he stepped closer. ‘I have nothing to say to you.’
‘Who said anything about talking?’ he jeered. ‘You got me into a lot of trouble, with your tales. Running around, telling people I attacked you. I could have been expelled.’
‘You did attack me,’ she responded calmly.
‘I didn’t do anything you didn’t want me to, and you know it.’ He began to circle her.
‘I pushed you away, remember?’
‘And I get suspended just because you change your mind at the last minute?’ The alien hung back and stood guard. Hector spiralled closer. ‘I know you wanted it. You still want it.’
She snapped his hand away. ‘Can’t you take a hint? Everyone knows you’re just some pathetic guy who has to leech around girls because no one likes him. Well, I’ve got news for you: no one does like you. The whole school knows what you did.’
She pushed past him, daring the alien to stop her. Hector grappled onto her wrist before he could.
‘Pathetic?’ He laughed. Gwenhwyfar picked at his fingers, reluctant to touch him, and tried to uncoil his grasp. He tugged her closer. ‘You don’t realise what you’ve done, do you? You’ve ruined everything. I can’t apply to college now. Ravioli’s already talking like I won’t be able to stay here.’
She held his gaze. ‘Your problem, not mine.’
He jerked her arm, hard. ‘It’s your problem if I make it your problem: you and your squealing friend. Now every school in the country will think I’m a rapist.’
‘Why? Are you going to rape me?’
This threw him. Quickly he released her arm. Gwenhwyfar felt her heart pounding through her chest. Her phone was in her clutch. She prised it open with one hand.
‘Rape you? Rape implies that I’d be giving you something you don’t want.’ He looked to the alien. ‘Right?’ He reached for her again. This time she flinched. He laughed with vindictive amusement. ‘Jumpy, aren’t we? Like a little rabbit.’
‘Don’t you touch me,’ she hissed.
He expelled an exaggerated, wounded sound. ‘I thought you liked me? No? That’s a shame for you. Word is you’re always moist.’
Disgust speared through her core. Frozen to the spot, Gwenhwyfar glanced to the warehouse. She could scream for help, but who would hear? Hector started at her again. She recoiled. Suddenly the alien came at her, too.
She ran. Hector was too close. He caught the back of her skirts and she tripped. Her clutch flew out her hand as she landed on her forearms and was winded by the earth. His clammy fingers scraped up her legs. She kicked at him, spearing him with her stilettos. His laughter broke and he swore. Pulled back, her torso scraped over the dirt. Gwenhwyfar lunged for her clutch. Phone. Keys. Anything. She only grabbed one before she was dragged out of reach. Hector was on top of her. She struck as quick as an adder. Her pocket deodorant hissed into his eyes. He howled.
She kicked him back, kicked his stomach, his shoulders, his arms, his head. He toppled over. The silent alien was there the moment she stood. She pointed the deodorant at him like a gun. He held back.
‘You do know I told the police about what you did, right?’ She said, high on adrenaline. ‘You know I’ll tell them about this. They’ll arrest you. They’ll arrest you both. What you going to do in prison, Hector? Word is you’re moist.’
She kicked him hard again, in the back. Out, get out. Run while you still can. Someone caught her eye at the door to the warehouse. Lancelot.
He came out quickly, sensing the danger. She fled and stopped the moment she was behind him. Hector got to his feet and staggered over, his mask abandoned.
‘Crazy bitch blinded me!’ he shouted, pointing a sharp finger her way. He growled, and then he was rubbing his eyelids, expelling the sounds of a wounded animal. ‘Jesus! What is wrong with you? My eyes! She sprayed something in my eyes!’
‘It’s just deodorant, you idiot,’ Gwenhwyfar told him. ‘Go wash it out.’ The alien stepped closer, vying for a fight, but Lancelot caught the movement and suddenly seemed taller. For a moment everything seemed to hang in the balance, but then Hector retreated and the alien followed.
‘Crazy bitch,’ he hissed again, stumbling away from the venue and into the dark. Lancelot looked as if he was going to start after them.
‘Leave it, he’s not worth it.’ Gwenhwyfar touched his arm as she passed him to retrieve her clutch from the dirt.
He followed her. ‘What happened?’
Carefully, she put her belongings back in her bag. ‘Nothing. It was just Hector being an arsehole.’
‘He did this to you?’ Immediately he looked towards the wooded copse, but neither Hector nor the alien were in sight.
‘I said leave it! Seriously, it’s not worth the trouble.’
‘Gwenhwyfar? What did he do?’
She was shaking, she realised. Calmly she drew a breath and fastened her clutch. ‘Nothing, it’s nothing. He was just harassing me, that’s all. You know. Making… making threats.’
‘Hector was making threats?’ He looked over his shoulder, as if he could still see him. ‘What kind of threats?’
She gave him a pointed look. His scowl blackened.
‘What did he say?’
‘You
know, that I was asking for it, called me moist. Said it wasn’t rape if I secretly wanted it. That kind of stuff.’
He was obviously furious, because in the seconds that followed, Lancelot was speechless.
‘That… seriously…? He seriously did that. He seriously said those things.’ He stepped about on the spot and ran a palm over his mouth. ‘I should’ve… why didn’t I? I knew something was up.’ He turned from her, and was gazing into the copse again. ‘Where the fuck is he? You should’ve said. I would’ve stopped him.’
‘No, Lake. I didn’t want you to do anything. It only would’ve made things worse.’
He turned to her, and took her by the arms. She surprised herself by being grateful for the contact. ‘Are you hurt? Did he… did they…’
‘Didn’t you hear? I’m a crazy bitch. I sprayed deodorant in his eyes.’ She offered him a quick smile. ‘I just fell. He tripped me when I tried to leave. I don’t think they were going to do anything. I think it was just talk.’
‘So?’
‘So I’m fine, really.’
‘You’re trembling,’ he disputed.
‘I’m fine. I just didn’t know he would be here.’ She looked at him critically. ‘Why was he here? I thought we were checking.’
‘We were checking—of course we were checking. He must have turned up when we weren’t watching the door. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ she muttered, staring unseeingly into his chest. His hands migrated, and for a moment he was cupping her head.
‘You should sit. You’re in shock.’ He looked to the wall. ‘Can you make it?’
‘I don’t know. Wait, what are you doing?’
‘I’m carrying you,’ he insisted.
‘No you’re not. It’s fine! I can make it.’
He scooped her up. Gwenhwyfar gasped as suddenly the world was tilted. Her long dress bunched up in his extended arms.
He huffed in surprise, his thick brow folding. ‘Christ, what have you been eating?’
‘It’s the dress,’ Gwenhwyfar said indignantly. She wrapped her arms around his strong neck. ‘You’ve just got chicken arms.’
‘Chickens don’t have arms,’ he contested. Carefully, he set her down. She hoisted herself up onto the wall. ‘I think you’ve done my back in.’
‘Shut up, Lancelot.’
He offered her a tentative smile. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Don’t ask me that.’
‘Sorry. Should we call the police?’
She shook her head. ‘Not yet.’
‘How about your parents?’
She scowled at him, and turned her gaze out towards the dark. ‘I don’t want Hector to ruin my night.’
He eyed her grass-stained dress. Gwenhwyfar knew that her ankle was swollen; she could feel it. Her arms were grazed and Hector’s hand had pressed blue finger marks into her skin.
‘You might have to call them, unless you can think of a good way to explain this.’
‘I won’t go home,’ Gwenhwyfar decided.
‘No?’
‘I’ll stay at Viola’s house. If I tell someone what happened, I’ll just have to go through that whole thing with Ravioli again. The police won’t care either. I told them about Tom’s party. They said there was no point pressing charges.’
He seemed shocked. ‘It might be different this time.’
‘I doubt it.’ She laughed harshly at herself. ‘They’re more likely to arrest me for blinding him. God, I shouldn’t have done that. Do you think he will go blind?’
‘So what if he does?’ He shook his head and hunched his shoulders. ‘I should do something. I should see what the hell he thinks he’s playing at.’
‘No Lance, don’t.’
‘Why the hell not? I should kill him for this.’
‘I don’t need you to. I can take care of myself.’ He said nothing. ‘Seriously Lance, just leave it. I don’t want you provoking him, or anything. He’s pissed enough as it is.’
‘You should tell someone what happened.’
‘I know.’ She caught the concern in his dark gaze. She wanted to brush the night away, wanted to forget about it. ‘Thanks, for being here.’
He shrugged. She edged closer to him on the wall, eager for the security he offered. He remained still.
‘I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up.’
‘Are you kidding? You’d have blinded them both.’ There was a heartbeat’s silence. ‘Who was that guy?’
‘The alien? I don’t know.’
‘He looked too old to be from Logres. Something about him…’
‘Maybe he’s from Bobby’s college?’
‘Maybe. Or maybe he’s just some friend of Hector’s.’
‘How were you ever friends with him?’ Gwenhwyfar asked, suddenly piqued.
‘I don’t know.’ He seemed troubled. The moonlight illuminated the white half of his monochrome mask. ‘I guess you can know someone without ever really knowing them.’ He shook his head, and sighed. ‘I had no idea he would ever do something like this.’
Words escaped her. She felt a sharp pang from deep within, and suddenly she was thinking of her father. A roughened finger lifted her chin, and Lancelot’s dark eyes filled her vision.
‘Gwenhwyfar?’
She forced a swallow down her tear-swollen throat. As she turned her head, his hand fell away and her skin was left cold.
They sat in silence for some time. She leant into his side, her head falling against his shoulder. He was warm.
‘I never had the chance to wish you a happy birthday,’ she whispered through a wet sniff, staring into the ground.
‘Now’s a good a time as any.’ He squeezed her arm, and she shifted to wedge her body against him. Looking up, she smiled.
‘Happy birthday, Lance. Sorry for making your party so dramatic.’
‘Thanks,’ he grinned, teeth flashing in the gloom. ‘And don’t worry about it. I got to see Hector whiplashed by women’s deodorant. It’s been great.’
Sniffing, she tucked her arm around him and squeezed him tight. When she shivered Lancelot drew her closer.
She felt safe, she felt warm. A second thought made her hunt for Hector in the gloom, but she only found stillness. The sound from the party thumped on, and as she looked back to check the warehouse she thought she saw the patchwork cat lingering in the doorway. A second glance however, and the figure had gone.
A Proposal
Viola pulled her portfolio out of her school bag and placed it on the table. Immediately Gwenhwyfar snatched it up to hunt for new photos. Though she had spent Saturday night and most of Sunday at Viola’s house, the pictures had arrived via courier that morning, and Viola had eagerly put them into her book so she could show them off.
‘It’s mostly because I’ve got an important casting after school,’ she told them. ‘It’s for Bare Make-up. They’re shooting a campaign for a new product.’
‘Do you think you’ll get it?’ Gwenhwyfar asked, gazing wistfully at the latest photo.
Shrugging, Viola observed her pictures upside down. ‘It’d be good if I did. The campaign’s worth at least twenty thousand.’
‘Twenty thousand?’ Bedivere’s mouth hung open. ‘For a day’s work?’
‘It’s a lot, isn’t it? But that’s the way it goes. You work for nothing, and then hope you’ll get something like that once or twice a year.’ Bedivere took the portfolio for a closer look. Viola turned her attention to Gwenhwyfar. ‘How’s your ankle?’
‘Not bad.’ She rolled her foot and felt little discomfort. ‘I can walk on it now.’
‘What did your mum say about the dress?’
‘She hasn’t seen it yet.’ She glanced across to Charlotte’s table. Emily was still sitting there during registration, but the other girls whispered to one another and ignored her completely. ‘I’m going to take it to the dry-cleaners. She thinks I fell over. She’d freak, if she knew.’
‘I still thi
nk you should report Hector. There was no misunderstanding this time.’
‘He was just trying to scare me. You know, seeing how I ruined his life.’
‘You should be scared. He’s acting like a complete psycho. How can you be happy with him still in school?’
‘Of course I’m not happy about it. Look, whether I go to the police or not, he thinks I’m talking to them. I told him I would.’
‘That might just make him more desperate.’
She was temped to tell her how her last attempt to report Hector had gone, but she couldn’t bring herself to relive it. ‘And what am I supposed to say? Some drunk guy groped me so I half-blinded him? For all I know I have blinded him. I’m half expecting Mr Hall to appear and escort me to the principal’s office.’
‘All the more reason you should talk to Ravioli first,’ Viola urged quietly.
‘Ravioli will just want to bury it,’ she argued, as Bedivere closed the portfolio and handed it back to Viola. ‘He’s hardly going to want Hector locked up. It’ll disgrace the school.’
‘And what about your parents?’
‘They’ve got enough going on as it is. I’m still waiting for my mum to talk to my dad.’
‘About what?’ Bedivere asked.
‘Nothing important.’ She couldn’t face telling her parents. If they heard she was in the same situation after having attended yet another party with solution, they would never let her go out again. ‘Just marital troubles.’
Frowning, Bedivere looked to Viola. ‘The police, then?’
‘I don’t want to tell anyone!’ she snapped. ‘I can handle it. If he so much as looks at me I’ll say something. But for now I’d rather not have the hassle.’ Her friends both eyed her as if they knew better, and it annoyed her. ‘I don’t want people knowing. Especially not Arthur. He’ll do something silly, or insist that I tell, I know he will.’
‘He’d be right to.’
‘Please, just keep it quiet, would you? Bedivere?’
‘I won’t say anything!’ he exclaimed, clearly insulted to be told twice.
‘Just think about it,’ Viola pressed. ‘That’s all I’m asking. None of us will forgive ourselves if something like this happens again.’
The Future King: Logres Page 32
