by Ember Hollis
“Why, what are you going to—” Bane frowns, but Christian interrupts him.
“Can you imagine how Heaven will react if she sees him wandering around like this?” he says, gesturing to the foal as he stands beside it. “Knowing her, she’ll feel so guilty, she might run off again to look for Mikael just so she can get his horn back. That’s just what we need isn’t it?”
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Bane says so quietly, I almost don’t hear it. “Plus you know it would be a good thing if she really does leave. She doesn’t belong here.”
I flinch when Christian laughs darkly. “Don’t you think she knows that by now, after everything we’ve done to her? And yet the little lamb is still happily trotting up to the slaughter,” he says sarcastically, his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. “Maybe it’s time to tell Knox and Malek what’s really going on. Let them weigh in on it.”
Bane frowns but just stays silent and motionless for a long moment until he firmly shakes his head. I watch on tenterhooks as Christian gives him a hard stare. It’s hard to be sure at this angle, but I think his fists are clenched, almost as if he wants to punch Bane. The two of them glare at each other until all of a sudden, Christian sighs and shrugs, relaxing into his usual easy going posture. “Fine, suit yourself. But like I said, I get first dibs.”
He puts a hand on the foal’s empty forehead, then closes his eyes. The foal starts to tremble and its mother paws the ground nervously, but Christian keeps his hand firmly on the little thing. When he releases a heavy breath a moment later, something gleams from under his fingers. And when he takes them away, I see a splendid little horn, delicately ridged and gold-tinged, just like the original. The mother unicorn neighs happily at the sight, while her baby lifts his head proudly and nuzzles her.
“It’s just spare bone fragments, assembled from various parts of his body,” he says to Bane when the other Horseman raises a brow at him. “But they won’t know the difference.”
Bane just nods in silent thanks, then walks over to the pair. By the time he reaches them, mother and child have curled up on the ground, cuddled against each other. He kneels down to place a hand on each of their bodies, then looks up and around at what seems to be thin air before sighing. “It’s over. They’re gone.”
“Good,” Christian says, as Bane slams a hand to the ground. It opens up and swallows up the corpses, covering them entirely. Fresh grass creeps over the bare earth and soon there’s no trace of that the two unicorns were ever there. “Now let’s get back. Pandora’s planning to make a special announcement this evening, and I have it on good authority that you won’t want to miss it.”
“I suppose you found this out from Madam Wilkins?”
“Of course,” Christian gives Bane a sly smile, then taps the side of his nose. “How else would I stay ahead of the ignorant masses?”
Bane shakes his head and the two of them walk back into the cover of the forest, while I slide down the trunk of the tree, trying to make heads or tails of what I’ve just seen.
Chapter 8: Heaven
That evening after dinner, students and teachers alike remain behind to await the Headmistress’ announcement. Even though I want nothing more than to have a quick meal and retreat to our room, Sybil and I return too late from SP&E to avoid the crowd.
“Looks like Christian was right,” Sybil whispers in my ear. “This is a major announcement. Everyone’s here, even all the vampires have woken earlier than usual to attend,” she gestures to the mezzanine above us where pale faces peer out from the shadows. It’s surprising that there’s so many, since most of them attend night school and do not mix with us.
Still, I’m more preoccupied with my own thoughts, and just nod silently in agreement. I told Sybil what I’d seen in the forest, but even after talking it over with her, I’m confused as to what to think. Was reuniting the two unicorns just another assignment from Chiros that Bane had to finish, or was it something he had wanted to do? The thought of the Horseman of Death actually choosing to do something so compassionate is quite frankly bewildering to me. I can hardly wrap my mind around it, let alone the way Christian had talked about me. Could it be that he actually cares about what I think and feel? And what was that about letting Knox and Malek know about what was going on? Had that still been about me, or was I just being paranoid or big-headed to think about it that way? And what did it mean, that the Horsemen were keeping secrets from each other? Weren’t they as thick as thieves?
Even though everyone is shifting in their seats from anticipation, I’m more distracted by the sight of the Four, sitting together at the front of the hall. Christian is chatting with Knox now, while Malek uses a knife to whittle away at a piece of wood, and Bane sits calmly off to the side with his eyes closed and his hands laced in his lap. I study them intently one by one, wondering what they’re all thinking, until Sybil nudges me hard in the ribs.
‘Stop staring!’ she mouths, then casts her eyes off to the side. I follow her gaze and find Briley giving me the evil eye from a seat close to Christian. Seriously, that girl is obsessed.
I roll my eyes, then lean back in my chair, only to find my gaze captured by Christian when he glances over his shoulder. He picks me out immediately, even though both Sibyl and I are in the shadows of a potted palm at the back of the room to avoid attention. He winks slowly at me, his lips curled in a half smile. It’s a ridiculously flirtatious look, but it works on him, and I can’t help a heated blush from rising up my neck to inflame my cheeks as I remember what it felt like to have his hands on me.
“You’re digging your own grave,” Sybil whispers from the corners of her mouth. I blink rapidly, and ignore her. It’s not like I can’t see how hard Briley is fuming. It’s hard not to miss how she’s just nudged Vivette with her wing, so that both of them can stare at me in unison like a… like a couple of freaking harpies.
“I didn’t even do anything. It’s not my fault Christian’s targeting me,” I whisper back to Sybil. “He knows I’m still a virgin and he won’t stop until he… you know…” I blush even harder, then reach out to grab my glass of water and take a long drink. “It’s nothing personal. He’s so horny, he’d just as soon make out with a broomstick, I’m sure.”
Sybil just glances at me from the corners of her eyes for a long moment, before opening her mouth to reply. But before she can, Pandora glides into the large hall accompanied by a different young man than I’d seen earlier. He glares around the hall with narrowed eyes and a sulky pout to his lips, but Pandora just smiles at everyone, appearing as youthful and ethereal as a princess from a fairy tale.
“Good evening, everyone,” she says in a quiet, sweet voice that still manages to travel all the way to the back of the room. “Thank you for waiting for me. I have several important announcements to make, so please pay close attention.”
To my relief, the two harpies turn back to face the front of the room. I release a sigh of relief as pent up tension leaves my chest.
“As I’m sure all of you have heard by now, we have finally discovered the cause of the attacks on our unicorns,” Pandora continues. “The Fallen angel responsible for it was identified and defeated, thanks to our brave Weres, who risked their lives every single day for weeks to guard and protect our unicorns,” she pauses as loud applause fills the hall.
Sibyl glances at me and I give her a small shrug. Chiros had already told me that it had been decided for my sake and the school’s reputation that it was best if fewer people knew about the relation between Mikael and me, and that I’d been the one to fight him off in the pit. Even though this meant that I wouldn’t get any credit, I was more than happy to go along with it. So, Sibyl, the Horsemen, and a few other teachers were the only ones who knew the truth.
“And thanks also to our Horsemen, who willingly used their powers to preserve the unicorns and overcome the Fallen angel.” The applause grows thunderous as everyone turns to the Four. Girls all around the room are gazing at them with shining,
admiring eyes, and boys are nodding approvingly, as if whatever the Four achieved also reflects well on them. I struggle not to roll my eyes, even when Christian smirks and raises a hand in acknowledgment.
“Last but not least, I’d like to thank our past and present Unicorn Whisperers, who fought tirelessly and no less fiercely, to keep our herd healthy and pure.”
I blush as heads begin to turn towards me and Amelie on the other side of the room, and several wolf whistles rise above the applause, along with quieter hisses and muttered insults from nearby mean girls who finally spot me. I pointedly avoid looking in the direction of the Four, even though I can feel their gazes like hot pokers burning into my body. I try to dismiss the sound of the applause too, which makes me feel more uncomfortable than happy. After all the harassment I’ve suffered at Pandorax, it’s hard to believe that any of the approval is genuine, or truly meant for me. Nevertheless, I find myself exchanging glances with Amelie, who is grinning so widely at me that I can see all her teeth. She at least, truly likes and appreciates me, so I give her a happy smile of my own, and a little nod of thanks.
“Unfortunately, though the threat is over, we are left with a greatly reduced herd,” Pandora continues, once the applause dies down. The silence that follows is deafening, as people exchange glances and nervous looks. “As you all know, our unicorns were a source of purity that served to help us maintain the Dome and protect the school. With less of them here, we are left vulnerable both to discovery by the human world, and attacks by malicious forces who wish to harm our school and its inhabitants.”
That’s news to me. I frown at Sybil, and she shakes her head at me, mouthing the word, ‘Later’.
“We are also deprived of a buffer from the backlash of the Four’s powers,” Pandora says, smiling gently at the four boys sitting in front of her. “Which, as you all know, can result in… interesting occurrences,” she chuckles and shrugs, while voices start to rise in excited whispers. “Now, there are various methods that we usually deal with this, and one of our most traditional and effective ways, is to hold Bacchanalia once every semester.”
The voices are now so loud that they drown out Pandora’s words. She lifts a hand and tries to speak, but when she isn’t heard, her secretary steps forward and glares at everyone harshly. Immediately, I feel a wash of anger that makes me want to find the nearest hole and hide myself in it. The crowd subsides too, until complete silence reigns in the hall.
I raise a brow at Sybil who just shrugs at me. Apparently this sort of occurrence is not unusual when it comes to Pandora.
“As I was saying, Bacchanalia will help release the pent up energies accumulating within us, but that alone will not be enough for us this year. Hence, another option has been proposed. Instead of just releasing these energies into the ether, we will also harness and transform them by combining Bacchanalia with another equally powerful, if lesser known ancient festival, known as Delia. I hope and expect that this energy will be sufficient to tide us through until our unicorn numbers increase, and we can retrieve our herd from the sanctuary that they will be sent to.”
What? They were sending away the unicorns? There would be no more need for a Unicorn Whisperer then, which meant that… I shoot Amelie a glance that she returns with a shrug and a half-smile that confirms what I’m thinking.
Oh no.
“Given the importance of our situation, absolutely no one will be exempt from participating in our joint celebration of Delia and Bacchanalia, or Bacchadelia, as I’ve decided to call it. Teachers and students alike will take part in them, as will I,” Pandora says, smiling at all of us. “This may sound a little strict, but I assure you that the events I have planned will be very enjoyable, and I dare say… exciting!” she lowers her voice as she speaks and gives us a heavy wink, making the crowd titter in response.
“A message will be sent out to each of you tomorrow to inform you of the schedule for the joint festival and what is expected of you for participating in it. All feedback and suggestions are welcome, but will most likely be discarded. As I have said, this is our solution to a potentially dangerous situation, and it must be carried out without exception. That is all, and thank you in advance for your co-operation.”
* * *
After the announcement, I head down to the library, intent on figuring out whether participating in Bacchadelia will cause me to succumb to Darkness like Mikael.
The stone gargoyle is as formidable as ever, and when I inquire about books on angels, he gives me his usual stern look. “They are on the last shelf in the third row, Miss Ramsey. Do not misplace them, and do not bring them out of the library. They are very old and very precious, and I am only letting you read them unsupervised, since you are of their blood. Even so, there will be some that are locked to you, simply because the information in them is either too arcane or classified, and I must ask you not to try to open them. Do you understand?”
I nod respectfully, then make my way down the long deserted rows to the bookshelf containing books on angels. Though there are very many of them, few will open to my touch, and I guess that these are the ones the librarian was referring to. After several minutes of searching, I finally settle on a lovely, cream leather book bound with gold filigree, that is sort of like a general encyclopedia on angels, with easy to read passages and illustrations.
I spend the next few hours skimming through it, until I reach a passage on Grace.
‘All angels are bestowed with a special divine influence that is generally called Grace, (for other terms, see footnote 23), which allows them certain powers and properties that are meant to aid them in their mission to uphold and maintain the force of Good in the world. Angel-born are also granted the right to earn Grace via heroic deeds or great sacrifice, thereby becoming what is known as a Nephilim. Nevertheless, the ability to achieve this blessing has been observed to be far less common in angel-blooded who are less than half-angelic, and indeed, most angelology scholars believe that Grace is something solely reserved for angels and half-angel blooded alone. This was in fact argued not to be true by Elijah Cranwell, a talented seer who also happened to be part-angel (fraction unknown), who stated in his book, Saeculi Veritas, that all angel-born, regardless of blood fraction, are innately eligible to receive Grace, but that so few do so due to past misdeeds that have restricted their ability to receive it.’
“Huh.” I frown at the page and re-read the paragraph, then search through the index of the book until I find five whole chapters that focus on the topics of ‘Falling’ and ‘the Fallen’.
Getting through those chapters, and other relevant parts of the book on angel-bloods takes up the better part of the night, but when I’m done, I feel vaguely relieved and yet sad all at the same time with what I’ve learned. Seeing how late it is, I quickly replace the book on its shelf, along with any others I’d referenced.
Just as I’m about to leave, I bump into a nearby shelf and knock a book that’s jutting out of it onto the floor. Horrified that it might be damaged, I quickly pick it up and look it over carefully, taking care to use a tissue paper to touch it, just in case it’s one of the more dangerous books in the library.
But all it turns out to be is a book of prophecies. I’m about to close it and replace it on its spot on the shelf, when my attention is caught by a picture on the page it had fallen open at. It’s an illustration of four men astride four horses, one white, one red, one black, and one pale. Behind them are scenes of chaos and suffering and in between them is the lone figure of what looks like a child surrounded by seven stylized circles.
“The breaking of the Seals and the summoning of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse,” I read out loud.
“Miss Ramsey!”
I jump and turn to see the librarian stalking towards me, stone wings spread and face drawn in harsh disapproval. “That is not a book on angels!”
“No, it isn’t,” I say, hurriedly snapping the book shut and replacing it on its shelf. “I accidentally knocked it off its
shelf, so I was just checking to see that it wasn’t harmed.”
“Hmm,” the gargoyle scowls. “This book should be locked too, and it’s in the entirely wrong location.” He runs a finger down its spine, causing it to glow a bright blue. “Well?” he says when he sees me looking. “Don’t you have some other place to be?”
I mutter another apology then quickly leave the library to head to bed. But though I’m extremely tired, my sleep is fitful, and I find myself dreaming of flying endlessly through a heavy storm, with thunder that sounds like hoof beats crashing all around me, and scary gargoyle-like faces, lit by lightning as they chase me.
Chapter 9: Heaven
I’m woken the next morning by a loud clanking and creaking that makes me jump out of bed and summon my wings, terrified that something has caught me.
“Sibyl!” I screech.
“Wha—ow!” I hear the sound of something thumping loudly, before Sibyl appears from behind her bed curtains, rubbing her hip and squinting through her glasses with bleary eyes.
“Did you hear that?” I whisper anxiously. Ever since the girls ambushed me, I’ve been sleeping with one of the batons I’d stolen from a school supplies closet beside my bed, and I wave it now while I peer about the room from between my tangled hair. “It sounded dangerous. I think something’s here.”
Sibyl takes one look at me as I wave the baton around, then shakes her head with a laugh. “Don’t be silly, it’s probably just our mail arriving in the pneumatic tubes. We’re supposed to get the schedule for the festival today, remember?”
“Oh, of course!” I immediately feel incredibly stupid. But when I head to our desks where the tubes are supposed to open to, there’s no cylinder inside the pipe-like cavity. “Uh… this might sound silly, but I’ve never used these tubes before. Is this supposed to be here?”