My heart felt like it was going to burst. I gave Rick a watery, hesitant smile, and nodded, even though, deep, deep down in my gut, I felt like this was really the final battle between me and Ivan.
And only one of us was going to come out alive.
CHAPTER 18
You would think that having only a few hours until the final showdown with Ivan Novak would make me antsy to sleep. And you would be right.
But Rick was firm, saying that it would be wise to rest up—even for just a few hours—before the fight.
Strangely…I didn’t feel nervous. I felt calm, though a little numb.
It was impossible to sleep, but I managed to shut my eyes for an hour or so in a restless nap. I wonder if cats could sense the mood sometimes.
When I woke up from my light nap, he was purring on my chest, kind of like a little angel comforting me. I stroked his head, surprised to realize just how soft his orange fur really was. Damn, I would miss Butterball.
No thoughts like that, Emery! I told myself, through a hot shower, through changing into a pair of shorts and striped top, and lacing up my sneakers. I combed my short hair and stared at myself long and hard in the fogged up mirror. Bright green eyes reflected back at me; eyes I had inherited from my dad, who was safe and away up in New York. Eyes that burned with a similar passion—an, “I can do anything!”
attitude, no matter what kind of circumstance.
I tucked the pouch safely underneath my top.
Then I glanced into Dove and Chrys’s room, watching them sleep peacefully, unaware of what I was about to do. I almost smiled when I imagined their reactions: no doubt Dove would hold me in a vice grip, refusing to leave my side, and Chrys would pout and cling to me like a child. Frankie Ann, resting in her study, would no doubt envelope me in the biggest, warmest bear hug of all, crying. And then probably tie me to the chair with duck tape.
I really wish I wasn’t such a coward, and I wasn’t such a sob. I wanted to go to everyone and tell them thanks…for everything. But Rick’s words lightened me, and even if I didn’t really believe them myself, I think they might come true.
My eyes lingered on Dove’s bundled form. The pillow shifted slightly, showing the corner of the note I had gingerly tucked in. I had hastily scribbled Guinevere’s whereabouts…in case I didn’t make it back to tell her myself.
I shut the door before I could cry, then squared my shoulders and met Rick, already dressed in his usual dark attire, at the back door. He gave me a firm nod and walked out. And with one last, lingering look at the tiny house that has served as my home for almost a month…I followed behind.
The walk was long, taking almost forty-minutes. At around six in the morning, there was hardly anyone out. And even though we tried our best to stick to the shadows or blend in, nobody really seemed to care of a couple of teenagers taking a walk near dawn. St. Mary’s was on a huge sprawl of land, far away from any shops or gas stations. And we had already missed the first bus so we hiked up, taking the longer way around until we were near edges of the woods. Trees surrounded the sides and back of St. Mary’s Academy, but in the thick of it there were tall, black iron gates that fenced the campus in.
After some looking, I was surprised to see a familiar spot: the very same spot where I had first met Dove and Leon, and the spot that was used as our training grounds, away from the prying eyes of the students and faculty.
I ran my hand over the posts, admiring the sleek, heavy metal that Leon had forged into so many weapons. And after I hit the fifth post, it sort of wiggled in my hand. I wondered if it was the fact we had used it so many times, or maybe our last session, Leon hadn’t fixed it properly…
Grasping the bar tightly, I shoved it with all my might, twisting it back and forth until it popped out with ease. I glanced at Rick, a wide smile on my face, and he met mine. Then, he walked over, easily lifted his foot, and snapped the bar right next to mine away.
I stared dumbstruck as he kicked the discarded pipe away. He just gave me a look. “What? These fences are really shitty, you know.”
I just shook my head, feeling my pride sting just a little bit as we hopped over the broken ends. I kept my piece close, feeling like I could use it as a makeshift sword; even the tip looked sharp, with a jagged, slanted edge. The path was achingly familiar, and I took in the deep, sweet smells of campus: the crisp grass, the mossy oaks and the flowers.
But everything was still and quiet, even when we reached the cobblestone pathway that cut through the tiny woods.
Well, it was the middle of summer vacation, but I was glad (and hopeful) that there were no other teachers or maintenance workers in sight.
Once we found the path, I stopped on my heel and turned. “Rick
—”
“I know, I know,” he interrupted, shooting me a grin. “You want me to stay here while you go fight. I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.”
My eyes softened. I had expected a fight, but Rick was really being so easy with me. Because he knew. He understood. If the situations were reversed—and that was Ash, not Leon, being taken over, I would have no say or right to stop Rick from going into dangerous territory.
“There’s one thing I want you to do,” I said, stepping forward.
“Just promise me that, if something bad happens to me…will you tell Dove I said I’m sorry?”
“There’s no need for that,” he said softly. “Tell her yourself when you get back.”
“Then promise me if you see me losing you won’t jump in to save me,” I leveled him with a fierce glare. “But somehow—take the Elixir and just run. Please.”
“Like I said, there’s no need for that.” His familiar hot smirk returned. “Because you aren’t going to lose. But I promise, okay? I can’t promise I won’t want to jump in and save you, but I promise that I’ll take the Elixir and go.”
“Be realistic with me, Rick!” I blurted out. “I don’t know if I’m even going to survive this! I’ve already let down so many people—I may even let down Leon—and I can’t go on thinking that everything’s going to be okay when—”
The words dissolved on my tongue when Rick pressed his lips to mine.
It was soft, but short. Yet, when he pulled away, I could feel the lingering burn on my lips, slipping into my skin and nestling right into my heart. I stared at him, with wide eyes, but he didn’t have his usual, playboy grin on his face. His eyes, warm but firm, met mine in a heated gaze.
“Just don’t die, okay?” Rick finally spoke, leaning forward to press a kiss to my forehead. “Just don’t die.”
“I…”
And then, as if the air snapped, Rick finally grinned. “Hey, I may not be able to steal your heart, but I’m not letting you walk into battle without stealing a kiss. You can punch me when you get back. Sound fair?”
“Uh…I…” I was flabbergasted. My tongue was thick in my mouth and suddenly my brain had taken a vacation to Switzerland. I couldn’t even form a coherent sentence!
“You gave me a second chance, Emery, when no one else would,”
Rick spoke, pressing his fingertips to my cheek. “And it makes that knife in my heart twist seeing you go, but I am not going to force you to stay.
You do what needs to be done. And I’ll be here. Waiting for you. No matter what.”
“Rick…”
“Even if you can’t give me your heart,” he continued, never once breaking eye contact. “I’ll still wait. As long as needed.”
CHAPTER 19
My skin felt as if it were on fire. Even my lips felt tingly when I brushed a fingertip over them, like Rick’s own lips were still there, lingering like smoke. My heart pounded extra harder with every step I took away from Rick, keeping true to his word by waiting in the woods.
He…likes me.
Uh….whoa. I was totally not prepared for that kind of confession.
I had expected a lot of things to happen this morning but I really got a bombshell.
I mean,
I felt that Rick had really grown on me. He had, at first, betrayed me, but he saved my life numerous times, going against White and even his own brother. He was sticking around, held by the Black Crown…for me. Me, stupidly, had assumed he was just…I don’t know, toying with me, acting like his usual, cocky self.
God, my brain hurt. But my heart sort of knew what I was feeling.
That…I liked Rick, too. He had been a solid wall of comfort when I needed it. He understood where I was coming from.
He just put so much trust in me…how could I even repay him?
But deep down I knew this wasn’t “love”. Well…maybe for Rick but not…not for me. No. He couldn’t love someone like me, pushing people away just for the sake of one boy. And I didn’t deserve to love him, either. Rick deserved someone better.
Even though my heart twisted with the thought of him leaving.
I’m such a damn hypocrite.
But then Leon’s bloody face flashed in my mind, giving me more resolve. More focus. Leon was the reason for everything. He had made many mistakes, but he didn’t deserve to be some puppet. And I knew it had taken every ounce of strength he had left to warn me, for me to run away, to escape.
Always, always, Leon put others before him. Even Dove, though he could never put it into words. Leon was the type who would shoulder his guilt and burden until it crushed him.
And I wasn’t going to let him suffer, anymore.
I would put an end to this. I would grant Leon’s one, final wish for him. I’ll take his burden and weight it on my own shoulders, and carry it with me the rest of my life.
I was going to grant his one final wish.
I would kill him. I would free him.
I reached the clearing, gazing at the empty, sprawling green grounds. The lake shimmered to my right, the light hitting the water just
so that it made diamonds sparkle and dance on its surface. Beyond that was the four story red brick building of the library that held its massive selection of books, kindhearted librarians and rich hot chocolate perfect for a cold winter’s study day.
Then the bell tower chimed. Not odd, considering. Earlier in January, the new Headmaster had installed a brand new iron bell to the campus, donated by an alumni in Jack’s name…though nobody could really put it in his name, considering he was only a “runaway”.
The bells were sweet as they traveled over the empty campus, playing for no audience. Under my breath I counted along. One…
two….three….four…five…six….seven….eight…
Eight. Wait a second. It was only seven in the morning.
But the bells kept chiming. Going to nine…ten…eleven….twelve…
Thirteen rings.
And then it stopped in mid ring, as if someone had stuffed cotton in my ears. I highly doubted it was a simple malfunction. According to Dad, who was Mr. Jones’s (the groundskeeper) temporary assistant, the bell was supposed to automatically ring with every hour, but it can also be pulled manually, which happens during bad storms or such.
So it there was no doubt in my mind or heart where Ivan Novak was.
But I took my time, even though I yearned to race across the
campus and knock that damn tower with Ivan to the ground. But I didn’t have the inhuman Hulk-like strength for that, so I forced myself to relax. Don’t waste energy getting to the target…take it easy. Conserve your strength…
In five minutes I arrived at the tall stone clock tower, one of the few oldest buildings on campus; that originally belonged to the orphanage that used to be St. Mary’s. Currently, it served as the living quarters for Mr. Jones and stored many of the gardening items. But I had been in there a couple of times before earlier in my semester. I glanced up, trying to see to the very top, but saw nothing move. Not even a shadow.
But I could feel him up there. As I circled around, not at all surprised to find the back door unlocked, my body was shaking so hard that I had to grip the doorknob with both hands. My nerves threatened to swallow me whole.
I was terrified. The fact that Ivan wanted to fight high up on a clock tower, instead of in an open field where neither of us would have the advantage, I felt sick to my stomach. But I couldn’t make him come down—I had to go up.
I left the door wide open and paced down the dusty hallway, coming across a familiar, creaky winding stairs that lead to the top of the tower. Actually, it led to a room near the top, just one floor below the
bell. Perhaps it was a ploy of stalling, but I took a quick peek into Leon’s old room, surprised to find the door open. The room was bare except for some rumpled sheets on the bed, and a couple of discarded food wrappers. I doubted this was a mess left behind by Leon, so maybe Ivan had been using this room as a resting place.
And it infuriated me even more. Ivan had no right to use Leon’s room—hell, he had no right to step back on my campus! All he saw of St.
Mary’s was a ground filled with potential victims to possess. That’s how he found Jackson Alexander, with the help of the former Headmistress Margaret Snowe.
I pushed forward, finding another door that led to a very tight space, almost like a closet, with another set of stairs leading up. I gripped my makeshift weapon even tighter in my grip, swinging it around to get a sense of balance and weight…just as Leon had taught me…and pounded up the stairs.
Strangely, the top of the clock tower was a little bigger than I had expected. The roof arched over my head, giving it a dome shape. In the very center stood a beautiful, gray bell that looked new and polished, like stone. The roof was boarded by stone ledges that came up to my calf, and there was really enough room to move around without bumping into the edge.
And there, standing opposite of me, was Ivan.
It didn’t take a genius to see that Leon was gone. There was no hint of green in those dark black orbs. It was like Leon had just been swallowed up from the inside out, and only his shell remained.
However, Ivan’s disgusting, splitting grin was gone. Leon’s body swayed slightly, as if it took a tremendous amount of strength just to keep up. His skin had turned an ashy color, and I could almost see his veins beneath his transparent skin. Even his arms looked as thin as toothpicks. The hands I had held just a day ago—had it really been just a day?—were shaking; the skin stretching over his knuckles until they almost looked like they could burst from his skin just from the pressure.
Ivan cut right to the chase. “The Elixir, you little brat! Give it to me!” his voice came out scratched and ragged, like a record skipping. He sounded like death warmed over, and judging by the fierce, poisonous glare in his eyes, I could tell even Ivan was aware just how little time he really had. After all, this was a living body, unused to the strain of harboring two souls; especially a soul as old (and wicked) as Ivan Novak.
“NOW!” his voice boomed, and I took a step back. I could almost see his hatred and desperation swell around him like a dark cloud. But I had come here for a reason: to end it.
I shifted, planting my feet firmly to the ground and resumed the fighting stance that Leon had taught me before, gripping the black iron post with one hand. With my other, I reached under my shirt and pulled
out the pouch, which contained the rest of the fragments.
“Let’s make a deal, Ivan,” I said sweetly, mimicking him. “We’ll have one last fight. Winner gets Leon and the Elixir. The loser dies.”
His mouth twisted into a crooked grin. From behind him, he brought out his own weapon: the metal pipe he had used to bash Rick’s skull. With a dark, gray glow, the pipe morphed into a sort of lumpy, but sharp looking sword. Ivan braced himself, mimicking my pose, and spat out:
“Agreed.”
CHAPTER 20
Our weapons slammed into each other, releasing tiny, metallic sparks.
But…something was wrong. Off. I pressed as hard as I could and Ivan ducked under, rolling to the edge of the roof, then bounced forward like a cat leaping at its prey.
I easily brought up my p
ipe and blocked his blow, though my knees shook at the sheer force.
It felt as if the fight had lasted hours…but only a minute, or less, had passed. Yet, all we could do was block and parry, and I realized what the problem was.
Ivan was getting weak.
This wasn’t the same man I had fought against twice before, especially when he had (sadly) kicked my ass back at the Sun and Moon Library. He had moved with the viciousness and grace of a serpent, easily fending off my weak, greenhorn skills. I wasn’t a pro at fighting, but if there was one thing Leon had instilled into my mind is that I could easily hold off. I could defend to the very last breath.
After Ivan gave out a strangled cry and tried to reach for my
throat—where the pouch was, tucked under my shirt as usual—I had had enough. I whipped up, bringing the sharp surface of the bar had until it cracked against the side of his face. He went down fast, and I jumped, stomping my foot on his hand until I heard something shift, pop, and he let go of his weapon.
I stood over him, burning a stare into his empty eyes. His chest rose high, and every breath he released seemed to cause a stab of pain in his heart. Good.
Ivan didn’t bother to stop me as I stood over him, holding the sharp edge of the fence post over his heart—Leon’s heart. I easily sliced his shirt open, seeing the fading, pulsing gray clock Rune over Leon’s chest, beating in synch with Leon’s heart.
My grip only tightened when I remembered seeing that very same mark on Jack, back at Bonaventure Cemetery—on the night of our damn Winter Formal—how dark and deadly it looked, like poison. Jackson Alexander had never existed. And Leon would follow the same fate if I didn’t do this.
I pressed the sharp tip to his skin, seeing droplets of blood form around the punctured wound. Ivan let out a hiss of pain, but still made no move to escape. Maybe he was weaker than I thought.
The Fake Mind (Time Alchemist) Page 10
