by A. S. Oren
He takes both our mugs and leads the way up the spiral staircase. The grand fireplace crackles to life as we step onto the landing for the study. The couch curves in a half circle around the fireplace, long ottoman’s stick out from it. They’re the perfect place to lay and read. A large brown throw blanket also lies folded on the back of the couch. If only it was snowing outside, everything about this setting would be perfect.
One of the windows in front of us flies open as a gust of wind tumbles through the room, followed by large snowflakes. My eyes widen. Isn’t the Cabin still within the weather barrier of the school? How is this possible? “I think this place just heard my thoughts.”
Paden sets our drinks down on the coffee table in between the fireplace and couch. He rushes to close and lock the window again. “What do you mean?”
“I was just thinking about how all of this was so cosy and romantic, and how a snow storm would make it perfect, and then a blizzard started outside. But how?”
He smiles. “It could be an illusion, like the windows back at our dorms. It might not be really happening, but let’s enjoy it anyway. Any preference on what we read?”
A book floats off one of the back shelves and comes to rest on the couch. “I think the Cabin has chosen for us.” I pick it up. It’s one of the older books with the pages edged in gold leaf and the cover just a simple mint-green colour with Elos and Diana in gold letters for the title.
Paden peers over my shoulder before sitting on the couch. “Wasn’t Elos the first Dragon shifter to deviate from the Royal blood? Diana was the first Norm to be introduced into our bloodlines. He was set to marry his brother who was being forced to become his sister, and both of them rebelled. Elos fell in love with Diana, and his brother took his own life.”
I sit down next to him, hand him the book, and throw the blanket over us before leaning forward to grab our mugs. I snuggle up to his chest as he wraps an arm around me. “I think so. Miss Nezbit didn’t touch much on the history of how the Royals became a dying bloodline.”
He kisses the top of my head as I take a sip of the hot chocolate. So good. He clears his throat. “I’ll read the first chapter. Elos was a tyrant of the China…” I close my eyes to picture his words. I’ve missed this type of calm. Being here with him helps me not think about anything else.
CHAPTER EIGHT
One Week later, Sunday, November 25th 2012…
I cough as I bat away more cobwebs. These secret passages haven’t seen a soul in decades. Enid follows behind me. A large flame in my hand lights the way and banishes away the darkness for several meters. Since Friday after class, I’ve been trying to find a way down underneath the school in the early morning when the guys are sleeping. I just know Rosemen’s labs must be down here; where else could he be hiding them? “How close are we to the end of this passage, Enid?” I had Horace upload the school blueprints into her system,
“Approximately four hundred feet in front of you, the passage on the blueprint comes to an end.”
We walk past a small hidden doorway—it only comes up to my waist-- one of many, but this one makes me stop. My gut tells me to listen; something important is happening. Muffled voices come from the other side. I crouch down to the door’s height and push it just a bit so I can hear better and take a peek. The door comes out over the top of a cot; it must’ve originally had a painting to hide its location. If someone wanted to use this passage without the bed there, they would need to climb down into the room.
Through the crack, past the cot, an old classroom spans out in front of me. Desks line the walls, and a blackboard hangs on the far left wall. This must be what we call the Backwaters. All the classrooms I've been in come with tablet boards. I remember Perlow saying some of the classrooms in the back of the school haven't been updated since the sixties.
Perlow towers over a boy kneeling on the ground. Is that Bullock? He faces someone wearing a black robe with a cowl covering their face. Next to them stands a lanky man with a bald head—he turns his face in my direction, but doesn’t see me-- a red stone pressed into his forehead. My eyes widen, that looks like a Speaker. I've only ever seen them depicted in books. They serve the Ancients, becoming their voice. Most ancients lost their ability to speak with a human voice long ago and don't like to broadcast their thoughts to an entire room. It can be exhausting after a while; I do it all the time. So, that means the figure in the robe is an Ancient. My eyes widen; why are they here of all places?
The bald man takes in a breath before letting it out. "You are the son of an Outcast, Derren Bullock. He did many great sins against our families, and because of that, you must be punished. That is if you want to be let back into our world as an accepted member?”
Bullock clenches his fist. "I am aware, my Lord."
A hiss like laughter comes out from underneath the cowl.
The Speaker motions. "Turn your back to us and remove your shirt."
Whilst still on his knees, he turns his back to them and removes his uniform shirt. I have to cover my mouth with my hand to muffle my gasp. I open the door a bit more to get a better look. Scars riddle his back, in various stages of healing. They crisscross to create a thick mass of ridged tissue in the middle. What the hell are they going to do to him?
Perlow’s cheek hallows as if he is biting it from the inside. as the Ancient lifts their arm, revealing a transformed arm and hand. Its ruby talons are pointed with sharp tips. It comes down, slicing across Bullocks skin, creating new cuts and reopening others that aren't old. He doesn't make a sound or flinch. Hot tears enter my eyes as my own back burns for him. I jump every time another slash comes down upon him. Ten in total, before the Speaker wipes off the Ancient's talons with a handkerchief. "We are done here."
The Ancient leaves first and then the Speaker.
Perlow clears his throat. "Until next time, Mr. Bullock." He follows the other two and closes the door behind him.
With them gone, Bullock let's out a sigh, "Happy birthday to me." Before falling forward onto the hard floor, not even bothering to catch himself. Blood runs off his back and onto the floor. My heart hammers. I need to do something for him.
How could they do this to him on his birthday? "Enid, go to the kitchens and request a slice of chocolate cake. Bring it back to this room as quick as possible." She nods and turns back the other way.
I open the door of the passage and hop down onto the cot below me. A suitcase sits at the end of the bed on the floor and a book tower stands at the head of it. Does he sleep here in an old classroom? I peer around. How could they treat him like this? Watchers be damned. I doubt they watch these back rooms anyway. I go to his side. His back rises and falls. Well, at least he's still breathing. "Bullock, can you hear me?"
He groans. "What the fuck are you doing here, Radcliffe?"
I touch his arm. I still get a jolt, but I search past that for his pain level. I don't know why, but I can do this with him. I guess the others haven't ever been hurt bad enough that I want to know what they’re feeling. Pain, as bad as when I transform, radiates throughout my back and down my nerve endings. "How are you still conscious? I'm going to heal you. Don't worry; I'll leave the scars so they don't think anything is different."
He tries to force himself off the ground but can't get up. "Don't. I don't want to owe you anything."
"Oh hush, you won't owe me anything. Consider it a birthday gift, if you must." I swallow hard. I'm going to need to transform my angel wings for this, but I don't know what I will get. The serum still hasn't worn off after all this time.
Warmth floods my back as I focus on bringing them out. I'm almost afraid to peer over my shoulder at them. When I do, they’re angel wings, but the tips of them drip with a black sludge. Is that the serum? Will I still be able to heal him like this?
I rest my hands on his wounds. His hot blood coats my palms. He flinches but doesn't make a sound. I focus my energy on healing. His blood seeps back into his body as the cuts close. I wish I could heal them
all, make them fade away for him, but I know this will happen again. If he shows them a bare back, they may kill him and me. The minor pain in his eyes remains, but his back no longer burns.
I lift my hands off him. “Did you have those scars last time I healed you?”
He sits up to peer at me. “It’s none of your business.” His eyes go to my wings, and the black stuff dripping off them. I shift them back into my body. A small puddle of black sludge remains behind. "What is that?" he points.
"I don't know. I wish I did. How do you feel?"
He looks away from me. “Better. Why did you help me? I don't have any information for you.”
I frown. What the hell is that supposed to mean? "Why do you think I would only help you if there was something in it for me?"
"You only helped that guy from the Knights because he had information you wanted."
"Yeah, and now he won't leave me alone. Every chance he gets he wants to hang out." I shake my head. It's become a chore to not let him touch me, I don't want to tell him his touch drains me of all energy. I don't need that information getting out in the open. "Circumstances were different. I don't expect the same thing from you. And, please, don't feel as if you owe me anything. You don't."
I take his hand in mine. The pull of the Fold remains strong. The pain cure I got from Maverick lasted four days, but I haven't had sex with him or anyone else since then. Would it make me a slut if I had Maverick over to my dorm later tonight for another go? I don't think Paden's ready to have sex yet, and I'm not ready to do it with Dante.
He tugs his hand out of my grasp.
I shouldn't have assumed that would be okay. He's a closed off kind of guy, I don't know if he will ever be a true member of my Fold; the same goes for Mirren. The mark on my back may never be complete with those prospects in my future. I can't see myself ever having sex with Mirren. Bullock, maybe, but it would take a long time. A really long time.
I sigh. "I guess it doesn't matter if you believe me or not. I'm glad I happened by when I did. I'm sorry this happened on your birthday. No one deserves something like that on their birthday."
His eyes narrow behind his large hipster glasses. "Why did you happen by? Have you been spying on me?"
I laugh. "Don't flatter yourself. I was exploring one of the passageways that goes past this room when I heard voices. Something in my gut told me to stop and check it out, so I did. I had no idea you lived here in the backwaters. They couldn't do the decent thing and give you a dorm like everyone else?"
"Outcast don't get the royal treatment here. I get basic food and basic shelter. If I can't make it here, then I don't deserve to have dragon powers. At least, that's how they see it. You can leave now." He stands and goes to his cot.
Enid still hasn't returned from her trip to the kitchens for his piece of birthday cake. If they only give him basic food and even make him receive a punishment on his birthday, I doubt they are going to offer him a piece of cake.
"Do you have a blanket or pillow?"
"I'm fine with what I have. Thank you for healing me. Please leave."
I edge toward the door as a knock sounds on the other side. Please be Enid.
He stands and walks past me. Opening the door, he finds Enid on the other side with a plastic wrapped slice of chocolate cake on a plate.
I go to her and take the plate. I then hand it to him and step over the threshold of the door. "I had her get it when I heard you say it was your birthday. Happy birthday, Derren. I'm around if you ever need to talk. Come to me when you’re hurt. You don't have to suffer through the pain alone. I know what it's like to do that. It's not fun."
His brown eyes stare at me a long time. For the first time, I notice the little freckle by the corner of his left eye and the flat moles on his neck. They're kind of cute. "Thank you, Miss Radcliffe." He pushes the door closed. I stare at it. Well, at least I got a thank you out of him.
CHAPTER NINE
I play with my tomato bisque soup whilst in the dining hall. Half a week has passed since I helped Bullock. He hasn't said two words to me since then, but for some reason, I feel compelled to help him. I had Enid leave him a comforter, pillow, and foam softener thing for his cot. I don't think anyone cares, because she said they were still there when she dropped off some cookies I made for him.
I don't know why I'm doing this. It could be because he's in my Fold; I don't think I would do it just for anyone. Maybe it’s because I feel a kinship with him. He’s in constant pain like I am; on some level, he understands.
I keep my eyes on the door of the kitchen. He should be coming out at any moment. They don't serve him in here. He has to go into the kitchen and basically be given a brown bag lunch. We're given gourmet food--anything we could ever crave--and he's given prison style food. It angers me that they treat him that way for something his dad did. I don't know what it was, but a child shouldn't have to pay with his own flesh and blood for the sins of the parent.
"Lon, what in the world are you looking at?" Paden sets down his fork and tries to peer over the edge of the balcony to see what I'm staring at."
I move my gaze away. "Nothing, just got lost in thought."
Two students walk past on the way to their table. "Have you heard? The Knights have two new members. That Mirren asshole and some guy named Jericho. I think he came here with the female shifter." Their voices trail off as they get farther away.
I drop my spoon; it clatters against the bowl and causes the others to look at me. Did they just say Jericho is part of the Knights now? My body turns cold. No. I must've heard them wrong.
Dante leans forward in his chair. "Fire, what's wrong, you look like you just saw a ghost."
I look at the guys: Dante, Maverick, Paden, Amr, and Horace. "You didn't hear what those guys were talking about?" I nod to the table where they found seats.
They shake their heads. "Maybe it was all in my head. I have to know. I'll see you all at dinner."
I stand from my chair and descend the balcony stairs before any of them can stop me. I need to know the truth. Jericho has been acting strange, leaving the woods at early hours of the morning, with Mirren no less. Everything points to what those guys said as true, but I don't want to believe it. It can't be true. He wouldn't help the bad guy, would he? He knows Rosemen isn't a good man; why would he willingly go and help him?
I scan the dining hall, but Jericho's nowhere to be found. Sun god, where is he? I don't even know where to look; it's not like Enid has a tracker like Mercutio's. That's it! I can go to him.
He's always wanting to hang out with us. Where is he today? The dining hall door opens, and he walks inside. Did he know I was thinking about him? It's almost uncanny how he did that.
"Mercutio!" I run up to him, careful not reach out and touch him,
His eyes widen. He's probably shocked that I sought him out first for once. "Avalon, what a pleasure it is to see you this afternoon." He grins.
I nod. "Nice to see you, too. Can you come with me real quick? I need a favour I think only you can help me with."
I walk past him and into the hallways of the school. It's a miracle no one gets lost in this place. I turn to him as the dining hall door closes behind him. "Of course, what do you need? I can help with anything you need." He grins, and a bad shiver runs down my spine. I shouldn't be doing this, but he can find Jericho. He takes a step toward me, and I take one back.
"Can you look for my friend Jericho on the P.A. map thing you have? I must speak with him."
His grin falls. His brown eyes, with one of the pupils dilated, stares into mine. "That's all? Are you sure I can't help you with what you need from him?"
"That’s all I need your help with. Please."
"Fine. But you owe me. I'm not a part of the Knights anymore, but I know the passwords of the others." He takes out his P.A., and it transforms into the neko girl with the snow-white hair and leotard.
She wipes at her face like a cat. “How may I be of service, Mercutio?”
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“Find me the location of Jericho Flinn. Knights password: Inferno.”
I bite my lip; didn’t he say he wasn’t part of the Knights anymore? Maybe I could have Enid do this. I know another of the passwords now. It takes a moment, but she opens the map. His red dot blinks in the non-fiction library. “Thank you!”
I take off at a sprint. I need to get to the library before he has a chance to leave and disappear to somewhere else. I pant as I skid to a stop in front of the first library door. It leads to a room with two more: one for fiction only and the other for non-fiction.
Heading into non-fiction, I peer around. There can’t be too many people here; it’s lunch hour for Sun sake. I search the front, but he’s nowhere to be found. Did Mercutio’s P.A. trick me?
