by Dan Cash
“Wait,” interrupted Freddie. “So I spent all that time with you and you didn’t bother telling me that you were chatting up my ex-girlfriend?” Freddie unintentionally joined in with the shouting.
“She stopped replying before we picked you up. It’s not like that, Freddie.”
Freddie made an effort to ignore the plea in Jimmie’s voice, the need for Freddie to understand, because if there was one thing that he had learnt over the last few weeks it was that Jimmie was never dishonest.
“You know what,” Lornea shouted, turning her back on the two men. “I don’t need this.”
“Fine!” shouted Freddie and Jimmie simultaneously.
Freddie and Jimmie stood in the hallway awkwardly, not knowing what to say to each other.
“I’m sorry,” Jimmie said. “But I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t important.”
Freddie grunted. “Whatever, I don’t even care anymore. You should probably find Jill.” The older man nodded and turned to leave.
“Thank you, Jimmie. I owe you and the boys, big time. I will never forget that,” Freddie shouted after his friend, not forgetting the selflessness the musician had displayed in saving his life.
“Yeah, tell me about it!” Jimmie quipped back before disappearing around a corner, leaving Freddie alone.
He looked around, trying to work out where he was. Giorgie had led them here earlier; he recognised the tapestry on the wall – a bright blue horse with a golden horn standing proudly underneath a yellow moon. Russell’s room was behind the wooden door to the right of the artwork. Freddie tapped on the door before taking a step inside. Russell was crying, his body trembling under the bed covers.
“Russell,” Freddie whispered.
“He’s gone,” Russell whimpered.
Russell
Matthew was not there. That was all that Russell could think about. It was all he had been able to think about since he had been transported miraculously from the back of a van to Naegis. Although it was not miraculous, because that would mean believing in miracles.
Max had managed to reunite his friends. He had saved Russell’s life, and Sofia’s, but he had failed to bring Matthew home. And now everything was over for Russell.
After the battle, Max had shut himself away with Sofia while Freddie descended to the dingy underground corridor to collect those who had been deemed too weak, too normal, to fight. He was accompanied by a girl who could not have been much older than them, and together they recounted the events that had taken place at the castle’s gates. Russell only half-listened, his mind still with Matthew.
He felt childish for thinking it, but it was unfair. Everyone had their little reunions – Sofia and Max, Lornea and Freddie – yet he did not have his. He wondered if it would ever come, but that hope was soon extinguished.
Max arrived in Russell’s room the following morning, red-eyed and sombre. He had not slept either.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” said Russell. Max breathed a deep sigh and stared up into the dim light hanging from the ceiling. “It’s okay, Max. You’re allowed to cry, you know.”
“I know,” Max said, his voice wavering under the weight of emotion. “And so are you.”
“Where is he?” asked Russell, fearing the answer.
“I don’t know. Anne-Alicia… She came to me and told me that he was…” A hot blade stabbed Russell’s heart through the centre. “But then,” Max continued, “She told me that he was alive and that she was made to lie. So I searched for him just as I’d searched for everyone else. Only he never appeared. And I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“So you don’t know if he’s still alive?”
“One of my council, Sherril, came to me this morning. Eimaj has begun the war in Rysked, recruiting an army and creating camps. She had a prisoner – Prisoner Zero-Zero-One. She wanted to show the people of Rysked that she is powerful and she wanted to let me know that she has started. The prisoner was killed in a public broadcast to all the land. It was Matthew,” Max finished, tears streaming down his pale cheeks.
Slowly, every single part of Russell fell to pieces. He felt his heart freeze, the blood gradually running cold through his veins. A crack formed, slowly creeping along atrium and ventricle, through his arteries, across his body. Suddenly, all at once, everything shattered. His chest exploded. His world collapsed. Violent sobs shook through his entire being. Max’s arms embraced him as together they wept for their friend.
Russell awoke a few hours later as the door creaked open.
“Sorry, Russell, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I bought you some lunch,” said Freddie, entering the room and placing a tray of food by Russell’s bedside. “I just want you to know that if you want to talk, I’m here. Alright?”
“Thanks.”
“Make sure you eat. See you later,” said Freddie, before he turned on his heel, leaving Russell alone again.
Freddie returned when the sky was navy and a crescent moon glowed. His eyes fell to the untouched food next to Russell’s bed before landing upon his friend. Russell appreciated that Freddie did not make a fuss about him not having eaten.
“How are you doing?” Freddie asked; such a simple question but with no easy answer.
Terrible, Russell thought. I feel like my heart’s been ripped out of my chest. I blame myself for not saving him at the concert. I hate myself for letting this happen. I hate Max for letting it happen. I hate Matthew for leaving me. I hate that you’re here and Matthew isn’t. I’m numb. I’m in pain. It’s not real. I miss him. I wish…I wish it was me that died. Not him. Anyone but him.
“Fine,” Russell replied.
“Russell, I know there are no words that can help you right now. Nothing I say can make any difference. But I can listen. I understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
How could Freddie possibly understand?
Matthew and Russell had always been best friends. It had been just the two of them until they were ten, when they befriended Max. He had been so alone, bullied by kids older and younger than him. Russell was happy to turn a blind eye, to ignore what was happening. But not Matthew.
Matthew had talked to the boy during one rest-time, while he was sitting alone trying to stay out of trouble. From that point onwards, it had been the three of them. Only, Max would always be the outsider.
One day, just under a year ago, Matthew and Russell had their first, and last, fall out. It was the end of the school day and Matthew was looking for his best friend. When he finally found him, Russell’s arms were wrapped around Kayla Rivera, their lips locked in a passionate kiss.
Jealousy and anger flooded Matthew and he stormed off, but not before Russell had seen his friend and pulled away from Kayla.
Russell ran after Matthew, but he could not see his best friend anywhere. He headed straight to his house, banging on the front door. Matthew answered, his eyes red and cheeks a blotchy pink.
“Go away,” he said, slamming the door on Russell’s foot.
“Listen to me!” Russell pleaded, wincing through the sharp pain in his toes.
“No! You know I fancy Kayla. Go away!”
“No!” shouted Russell in frustration. “Listen to me!”
Matthew looked at Russell’s foot wedged between the door and the doorframe. He relented.
“I don’t know why, before you ask, but I regret it. I regretted it as soon as it happened and I’m sorry that it did happen. But I know you’re not angry because I kissed Kayla. You’re upset that I kissed someone,” Russell persisted.
“Yeah, Kayla -” Matthew began to argue, but Russell cut him off.
“She told me, Matt,” said Russell, simply.
Matthew’s face dropped, the colour draining from his skin.
It was only a short while before that Matthew had placed all his trust in Kayla Rivera, not knowing that he was mistaken to do so. It had come from nowhere, Matthew’s outburst, but it had reached the point that if he did not tell someone his secret, he
felt he would implode. So he told Kayla, the girl who lived two doors down from him.
Russell was surprised when Kayla revealed Matthew’s secret, so shocked by the revelation that he did not think to resist when the girl planted a kiss on his lips. He kissed back, almost an automatic reaction, his mind reeling.
“Matt likes you as more than a friend,” she had whispered in Russell’s ear. “He told me a while ago and I pretended I didn’t know. We made a deal that he would pretend to fancy me and I’d flirt back occasionally. But the problem is… I fancy you.” That was when she kissed him.
Now, Matthew was standing in front of his best friend and no secrets remained.
“She… She lied,” Matthew spluttered, tears threatening to flood his eyes.
“No, Matt, she didn’t. I’m glad she told me.” An awkward silence fell over them, neither boy knowing what to say next. “Can I come in?” asked Russell, even though he could have just strolled in by now, Matthew no longer gripping hold of the door. His friend nodded and the door swung open.
Russell marched straight up to Matthew and threw his arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Matthew rested his head lightly on Russell’s shoulder, relieved that his best friend was there without judgement and without hatred. But slowly, without really thinking ahead, all worries about putting their friendship at risk evaporating into the thick air, they moved their heads so they were face-to-face. And Russell kissed Matthew so softly, so intimately, the world around then dissolved into nothingness. Because nothing else mattered. All that was important in the universe at that moment was them.
That was how it began. They agreed not to tell anyone, worried about the reaction of their families and friends. Russell had tried to talk to his parents on several occasions but words failed him. He had no idea what he even wanted to say. Did he want to come out as gay? Inform his parents that he fancied other boys, not girls?
Only, he was not sure if that was really the case. He had not thought about other boys in that way, just as he had not thought of any girls since being with Matthew.
It did not occur to him that he need not label his identity, that it was unimportant whether he was gay or straight or any other sexuality. All he needed to say was the truth, pure and simple: he loved Matthew. He had found what some called a soulmate, and it just so happened that that person was of the same gender as him.
Matthew was the first to tell his parents. Nervous, scared, excited… he told them. And they listened. And his mother said nothing, showing next to no emotion. His father said five words and hugged his son, “I am proud of you” still ringing in his ears hours later.
Russell’s parents reacted differently, appallingly. Matthew had felt guilty, in a way, considering himself the cause of a rift between Russell and his family, until the latter reminded his boyfriend that it was his parents who should feel guilty. They were at fault, not him.
After that first milestone, Matthew insisted they tell Max. But they never did. Time passed as they tried to find the right words, the right moment, and then Max met Sofia and they did not want to risk Max spilling their secret to a girl they barely knew. Besides, she would tell Anne-Alicia and before long the whole of Pipton would know their secret.
The secret that should not have to be a secret.
The friendship group that had formed so rapidly bonded just as quickly, and by the time Light on the Landing had arrived in Pipton, both Matthew and Russell considered telling all their friends.
It would have made their lives easier. Being together all day but not being able to really be together was killing them. Before school, before arriving at Max’s, the couple would steal a few kisses where nobody could see them, hiding their love from the world in case somebody did not approve.
Max grew impatient as Matthew and Russell were always late to his house, but some things were more important than being on time for school.
They never did get the opportunity to declare their love for each other in front of their friends. Matthew was stolen away from Russell, taken to Naegis and now… now he was gone. Forever. Russell had nobody, not really. Everyone offered Russell a shoulder to cry on because he had lost his best friend. They did not understand the true depth of their relationship and the real agony that Matthew’s death had caused.
All that Russell needed, wanted, longed for, was Matthew. He refused to accept that he was not coming back. He stopped eating, he stopped feeling, he stopped hearing words of comfort. He never stopped crying. He never would. His world had collided and his heart was in tatters.
But, as time persisted onwards, Russell did begin to heal. Slowly. Freddie knocked on his friend’s bedroom door, as he did every evening. He did not wait for a response; he just pushed the door open and sat on the end of Russell’s bed.
Normally he would sit in silence for a few minutes, pat his friend comfortingly on the shoulder, and leave. But Freddie had had enough, or he thought Russell was ready to talk.
“Russell, tell me,” said Freddie.
But Russell did not respond.
“I cannot even begin to imagine what you’re going through. We all loved Matthew, but nobody more-so than you. You don’t have to talk to me, or even listen to me; I know nothing I say can help. But I am here for you,” Freddie promised. “I know there’s something you’re not telling us and I’m not saying you have to tell me, but maybe it will help.”
After a few minutes of silence, Freddie stood up and sauntered towards the door.
“Freddie,” Russell said. He cleared his throat, his voice raspy from muteness. Freddie turned to face his friend. “We loved each other.”
Freddie smiled. “Then, you know, he will never truly leave you.”
Then how come he has?
Max
Matthew and Luc had both been fatalities in the chaotic mess that Max was trying so hard to clean up. Although as time progressed and everything continued to go spectacularly wrong, Max realised that there was no end to his disaster that he did not begin.
Jill had helped, slightly. She was a straight-talker, preferring to take a blunt approach to discussion unlike her son and husband. Eimaj had not wanted to find Freddie, she’d been waiting for Max to find him. Anne-Alicia aided her in this mission. She had revealed the news of Matthew’s death, urging Max along in his search for his friends.
And she had been largely truthful when she spoke to Max, Jill decided, in order to maintain his trust. Then, when Max had finally managed to reach his friends, she whizzed back to her new master and confirmed their arrival. Eimaj was free to attack and kill Max and Freddie, knowing that eventually she would be the only one left and thus able to take the throne of Naegis for herself. After all, who could stop her?
Not only this, but Eimaj had ensured that each of Max’s friends struggled since the concert in an attempt to break them. Freddie was never able to disguise himself as Lynk and Sofia and Russell were forced out of Pipton. Lornea did not matter, as she was always going to leave the group. What happened to Matthew was beyond terrible, the unforeseen nature of his death simply tragic.
ScribblePads had been Eimaj’s main form of attack, allowing her to keep track of everyone’s movements. Eimaj had known that ScribblePads were integral to Max’s plan (even if he did not yet know it himself) and she made sure Anne-Alicia dropped a hint. She would tell him outright if need be. As it happened, Max needed only hear the word to bring back the memory of what he had previously had seen.
The most remarkable thing to which Jill enlightened Max was that Joz had managed to save everyone, apart from his own son. Eimaj had expected to break down the castle’s doors, force her way into the castle. But Joz had made her mission impossible, and that was the reason his death became so imminent.
The magic that it had taken to make the castle impregnable was enormous, creating almost a forcefield around the walls to keep out unwanted guests. He used the remainder of his power, giving his life to save others. Thwarted by the Old Clemari was surely maddening to Eima
j.
There was only one reason his magic had failed, in the end. He made an exception. Of course, he did. If his wife ever needed to return, then how could he possibly create a forcefield strong enough to keep out the woman he had loved for centuries?
Jill had returned and the invisible barrier dissolved. Anne-Alicia struck and her catastrophic spell found Luc. It could have been any of them but it was poor, defenceless Luc.
Max was sitting opposite Jill in the council’s meeting hall, the triangular table suspended mid-air between them alongside the all too fresh scent of Luc’s death.
“I miss him,” Max said.
“Me too,” Jill replied.
“He was my best friend. A brother. I spent every minute of every day with him and now… now he’s gone.”
“He thought the same of you, you know. He cared very much about you.”
Max shook his head, Jill’s words cutting through his very core. “No, he didn’t. I was only ever his Clemari,” Max said, bitterness stinging his words.
Jill sighed, staring deeply at Max. He gazed back. Both pairs of eyes contained so much pain and hurt, it was a miracle that they could see at all.
“You’re favourite colour is blue,” said Jill. “And you hate orange. For just over a week, you hair has been flashing red when you’re angry and blue when you’re upset. You miss your parents more than you’ve missed anyone else, even Sofia, and you can’t even bring yourself to think of what might have happened to them.
“The Garden of the Restless is your least favourite place, yet you have to restrain yourself from going back there. You blame yourself for everything. You still think of yourself as a child, and the word Clemari reminds you that you have an impossibly huge responsibility that you feel you are unable to burden. You find it easy to become attached to people, which is a good thing. But it means you cannot cope when you lose somebody.”
