“Yep. Here we are.”
He took another step toward me, and I tensed. It was almost painful to be this close to him again. His voice came out a husky whisper. “Is there anything I can do that will allow you to believe me?”
I closed my eyes, my head fuzzy with emotions and memories rising to the surface. I found myself remembering all the kisses we’d shared and the way his body had felt pressed to mine.
I swallowed and forced my eyes open. It occurred to me that he might be using his siren powers on me, but I dismissed the idea at once. I knew he wasn’t. Not yet, anyway. Or if he was it was so slight that he might not be doing it on purpose. I remembered all too clearly what it felt like when he was doing it on purpose.
“Take it all back,” I said, my voice tight with emotion. “Take back all the things you did.”
Paul looked down. “You know I can’t do that, Dusty. Nobody can change the past. Not even magickind.”
Would you even want to? I wanted to ask him. Would you change all of it or just the part where you got caught?
I kept the question to myself. I could guess the answer he would give, but he was right—I wouldn’t believe him.
Paul took one last step toward me, this one putting him close enough we were almost touching. Then he did touch me, laying his hands on top of mine where they still clutched the book.
“Read it,” he said, pushing The Atlantean Chronicle toward me. “Search it for clues and secrets and all the worst things you think of me. And when you don’t find anything, give it back. Deal?”
“Deal,” I said, my voice catching.
He stepped away from me, his hands sliding off mine. He turned and started to leave, but paused after a few steps. He looked over his shoulder at me and said, “I’m sorry.” Then he turned back and disappeared into the shadows at the end of the hallway.
* * *
I felt better once I stepped inside my dorm, safer. Physically at least. I locked the door, including the dead bolt. Too bad I couldn’t turn a lock in my brain and block out all the thoughts. There were so many things to think about—the Senate Hall dream, Paul, the stone plinth and what the new letter might be, Paul, The Atlantean Chronicle, and Paul.
Yet more pressing was the sudden realization that I was alone in the dorm room. Selene was gone. Again. I walked into the bedroom and switched on the light to be sure. Her bed wasn’t just empty, it was still made.
But when I came back into the living room I spotted a handwritten note propped against my eTab.
Hey Dusty, went out for a walk. Don’t wait up for me.—Selene
Glad we had progressed to the note-leaving stage of whatever secret she was keeping, I sat down and pulled my eTab out of its cradle. I didn’t want to write a dream journal, but I didn’t dare skip it. Submitting them late—or not at all—was one of Lady Elaine’s biggest pet peeves. Even if what I wrote was garbage, just getting it in would save me a lot of trouble. Mostly I didn’t want to write it because I wasn’t ready to face the implications of that dream and what all those dead people meant—myself included. I shivered.
At least I could leave out the part about the stone plinth. I would do as I promised Eli and get Mr. Deverell’s help, but there was no reason to divulge my secrets to Lady Elaine and whoever else in the magickind government read my journals. I had a right to some privacy, same as anyone else.
I switched the eTab on and as I moved to open the dream journal app, I saw an instant message waiting for me. It had arrived more than an hour before from OracleGirl, Lady Elaine’s online handle. I clicked on it, read the brief message, and then started to grin. I might be overwhelmed with questions right now, but at least one of them would be answered very soon.
Britney Shell was awake.
17
Sympathies
I slept in later than I’d wanted the next morning. When I rolled over to check the alarm clock I saw it was almost eleven. Crap. I wanted to try and get to Vejovis today to see Britney, but securing a pass and finding a ride would take time. School policy stated only a parent or legal guardian could sign out an underclassman from Arkwell. I’d asked Lady Elaine if she could bend the rules for me, but she shot me down. Focus on Paul, she insisted—Britney wasn’t my main concern anymore and she needed time to rest.
Oh, well, at least I’d had a good night sleep for once—no dreams or nightmares about flesh-eating crows or the stone plinth. I yawned and stretched and slowly sat up. Across the room from me, Selene was still in her bed. I was glad to see it. When I finally passed out last night, she still hadn’t come back yet.
As if she’d heard me thinking about her, Selene stirred and rolled toward me.
I gasped when I saw her face. “What happened to you?”
Selene’s eyes fluttered open, and she blinked stupidly at me for a second, too drowsy to understand the question.
“I mean your face.” Scratches and welts ran down one side. She looked like she’d picked a fight with a thorn bush and lost.
Selene blinked again and then grimaced. The gesture appeared painful. She winced and then raised her right arm and examined it. More scratches and welts ran down from her wrist to her elbow. “I had a little accident.”
I threw my bedcovers off and sat up. “No kidding. What happened?”
Selene sat up, too, brushing her black hair behind her shoulder. I noticed a leaf stuck in the long, silky strands. Selene saw it as well and plucked it out. “I tripped and fell.”
I folded my arms across my chest, unable to keep the disbelief from my face. Selene was far too graceful for things like tripping and falling. “During your walk last night?”
She nodded, a blush rising on her skin. “Yes. I was in Coleville and it was dark. You know how much stuff there is to trip over in there.”
She was right, I did. The place was packed with stuff—grave markers, stone statues, bushes, trees, flowerbeds. I’d tripped in there more than once myself. “So you were by yourself?” I asked, watching her reaction carefully.
She narrowed her eyes. “What does it matter?”
That was a definite no. But I wasn’t happy that she still insisted on hiding her activities. “It matters because you’re … you’re keeping secrets from me. You’re my best friend.” I cringed as I blurted it out. It was so childish, but I couldn’t help it. What could she possibly be doing that she couldn’t tell me about?
Selene dropped her gaze. “I’m not trying to keep secrets from you on purpose. It’s just … you wouldn’t understand.”
Angry, unexpected tears filled my eyes. I hadn’t realized how much it had been bothering me. “Fine. Don’t tell me.” Holding them back, I stood and turned to leave.
“Wait!” Selene cried. The sound of her raised voice stopped me cold. Selene almost never shouted or lost her cool.
I stopped and looked back at her.
“Just hear me out,” she said, meeting my gaze.
I huffed and then sat down on my bed again, arms crossing automatically.
Selene ran both of her hands through her hair, looking more anxious than I’d ever seen her. “I’ve been dealing with some things lately. Really personal things that I haven’t wanted to talk about to anybody. Stuff about who I am and what it means to be a siren. You can understand that, right?”
I swallowed, nodding. Of course I could. When I first found out the history behind Nightmares, I’d spent several weeks trying to cope with the knowledge that my kind had done so many heinous deeds to other magickinds that the Magi Senate had sanctioned the killing of Nightmares until there were hardly any of us left. It happened years and years ago, long before The Will, but that didn’t lessen the impact of knowing that evil might be a fundamental part of my Nightmare nature. I didn’t really believe that, but sometimes when I was feeling down on myself I had to stop and wonder.
“But you’ve been struggling with that since I’ve known you,” I said, softening my voice. Now that I had her talking, I didn’t want to blow it. Sometimes get
ting Selene to open up was like trying to convince a feral cat to let you pet it. One hasty move and it would retreat. “I mean, what with all the sirens-are-more-than-sex-objects stuff. So what’s different now?”
“It’s just”—Selene hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor—“everything that happened with Marrow really opened my eyes to a lot of things. I’m still trying to sort it all out.”
At Marrow’s name, I felt my pulse quicken. “What does Marrow have to do with it?”
Selene looked up and held my gaze as she spoke. I could tell it was an effort. “Only that some of what he said is true.” She bit her lip. “The world we live in is kinda messed up.”
I took a deep breath, struggling to stay calm. Was my best friend really sympathizing with Marrow? The Red Warlock? The impossible-to-kill, evil wizard who wanted to be supreme dictator of the world? It was all I could do not to shudder.
“How so?” I said, trying not to freak out on her.
Selene looked relieved. “It’s not fair how the Magi force us to live a lie all the time, disguising ourselves as ordinaries, blending in. Why do we have to fit into their world? Why can’t we just have our own and be who we’re meant to be?”
“Well, for one thing,” I said, my mind bursting with counter arguments, “you can’t dismiss the dark ages. You’ve heard what it was like. The ordinaries killed thousands of us back then and that was long before the invention of guns and viral weapons. Just imagine what they could do now.”
Selene frowned. “But who’s to say that ordinaries would react that way? All that persecution was a long time ago when human beings were superstitious and ignorant.”
“Time doesn’t necessarily change things. Look at all the fights going on among magickind now that The Will’s gone.” I pursed my lips, trying to imagine what the world would be like if magickind came out in the open. What would people do when they learned that Metus demons derive their power from the fear of others or that Mors demons fed on death? I couldn’t say for sure, but I doubted most ordinaries would be open-minded about it.
Selene grimaced. “Well, you might be right. But still, why can’t we live apart then?”
“We do. Sorta.”
“We’re still expected to blend in. We have to hide so much and pretend we’re not what we really are.”
“You’re right. It sucks,” I said without much conviction. I could see her point, but I thought the restrictions justified in some cases. The true natures of some magickind were downright scary. I was pretty sure if given the freedom to do so, hags like Ms. Hardwick would toss the candy bars in favor of little children.
Selene smiled and stood up, relieved at my agreement, no matter how feeble. “I’m sorry for being a little nutzo lately. It’ll get better. I promise.” She turned toward the closet. “Are you hungry? I’m starved.”
I started to point out that she really hadn’t told me anything about what was actually going on with her, but I held back, sensing she needed more time. “Sure,” I said.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Selene and I headed down to the cafeteria to grab a late breakfast/early lunch.
Eli was waiting for us when we arrived. I’d sent him a text message about Britney. Unfortunately, Lance was with him, too, but that couldn’t be helped.
“So are we all going?” Eli said as Selene and I sat down with our trays.
“I’m going,” Lance said, bringing his fist down on the table.
“Easy, killer,” I muttered.
Selene took a drink from her water goblet, wiped her lips, and set it down with the kind of elegant finesse that belied the likelihood of tripping and falling. For once, she’d actually put on makeup to hide the scratches on her face. “We can’t all go to the hospital. I’m sure there’s a limit to the number of visitors she’ll be allowed at once.”
“Yeah, and she might not want to see us at all,” said Eli. “Who knows what kind of condition she’s in right now?”
I looked at Lance, barely suppressing a smile. “I’m pretty sure she won’t want to see you, period.”
Eli kicked my shoe under the table.
“What?” I said assuming my most innocent expression. “It’s true.”
“Not helpful.”
“I think only Dusty and I should go,” said Selene. “We’re better friends with her than either of you two.”
“Yeah, but you might miss something important,” said Eli.
I scoffed. “It’s not my first time questioning somebody. Plus, you know how Britney is. She’s so shy she might not say anything with you there.”
Eli nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Any luck on getting a pass?”
“I got one,” Selene said. “My mom already called it in.”
I sighed. “I’m still working on mine. My mom’s cell is going straight to voice mail. She probably forgot to charge her battery or dropped her phone in a toilet. I e-mailed her but considering she does most of her e-mailing on her cell I’m not hopeful. I tried my dad but he’s not answering either. He gets up early on Saturdays and goes for long hikes, minus his cell. Says it’s his only chance for a little peace.” I scrunched up my nose. “I think he’s just lucky he hasn’t gotten lost and eaten by bears yet.”
Selene snorted. She’d met my dad a couple of times last summer, and found his absentminded-professor routine amusing. I usually found it dangerous, especially when he did things like leave the oven on for seven hours after finishing dinner. My dad was a classics professor at Chickery College, a private—and ordinary—liberal arts school.
“Yeah, no luck here either,” Eli said, an odd strain in his voice. “My dad’s working a case, I guess.”
I understood his worry at once, remembering the dream. “You haven’t talked to him at all?”
“No, but I called the department this morning and they told me.”
I smiled. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
Lance looked between Eli and me, his brow furrowed. “Well yeah, he’s fine. Why wouldn’t he be?”
I inclined my head toward Eli, allowing him to decide whether or not to respond. I’d told Selene about the dream before we came down to breakfast, of course, but she was part of the Dream Team and could definitely be trusted. The verdict remained out on Lance.
Eli cleared his throat and looked around for eavesdroppers, but the cafeteria was pretty empty, typical for a Saturday. And to my delight, Katarina wasn’t present. Still getting her beauty sleep, no doubt.
Satisfied it was safe, Eli recapped the dream from last night. His portion of it, anyway, keeping mine a secret. I couldn’t help the upsurge of affection I felt for him at his thoughtfulness. It was just his tendency to do stuff like that which made it so hard not to have feelings for him. Well, that and his overall hotness.
Lance appeared to listen to the story with some difficulty, the effects of the curse still plaguing him. The bruises beneath his eyes were deeper than ever, and he kept yawning as if he hadn’t slept for days. He seemed to be doing his best to cope with the curse, but I had a feeling it was going to catch up to him sooner or later.
“So what do you think it means?” Lance said when Eli finished.
Eli set down his goblet. “I’m not sure. It could mean lots of things. I did some research on crows and their symbolism. There’s a lot of it. War, death, famine, plague.”
“All kinds of bad, in other words,” I said.
Eli frowned at me. “Did you really think it could be anything else?”
I grimaced, doing my best not to picture the gruesome scene from last night. “No.”
“Crows can also be messengers from the dead,” said Selene.
We all turned to gape at her.
She shrugged. “It’s pretty rare, but there are historical accounts in magickind history.”
Eli’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead. “Wow. That’s incredible.” He paused, then shook his head. “But I don’t think it applies to the dream.”
“Yes, you’re probabl
y right. But I thought it worth mentioning,” said Selene. “Only … aren’t crows more or less ravens, but smaller?”
“Hmmm, I think so.” Eli turned his gaze to me. “Can you check for us?”
“Sure.” I picked up my eTab, which I’d brought with me in case either of my parents decided to e-mail me back. I did a quick search on the ordinary Internet. The e-net was too likely to come back with mixed, confusing results. “Yep, according to this, the most obvious difference is their size. They’re different species, technically, but they share the same genus. It’s—” I froze, the eerie prick of coincidence striking my spine as I read the word on the screen.
“Corvus, right?” Selene said.
Once again we all turned to face her.
Her expression turned magnanimous. “The first day of class Mr. Corvus said his name means raven. I told you that, Dusty.”
“Right.” That conversation seemed to have occurred ages ago, but was really only a few days. His name had been just an afterthought and a joke. But now …
“You think those crows represent Mr. Corvus?” Lance said, a skeptical note to his voice.
Selene shot him a scathing look. “If you’re going to be negative, you can butt out.”
A devilish grin spread across Lance’s face, and he winked at her. “Aw, come on, you know you’d miss me.”
“Sure she would,” I said before Selene could respond. “But only because you make such an easy target.”
Lance flipped me the finger.
I grinned. If he was already stooping to physical gestures instead of verbal ones, then victory accomplished. Only, I had a sinking feeling he’d stooped because his curse-addled brain was incapable of generating a smart-ass remark at the moment. The knowledge deflated my sense of accomplishment and compounded my worry.
“And for your information,” Selene said, “it’s very possible the crows represent Mr. Corvus in the same way that the black phoenix represented Marrow.”
I started to nod my agreement, but Eli’s reply gave me pause.
“I thought that too at first, but when you think about it, the black phoenix represented itself. It was always real. As far as I can tell, Mr. Corvus doesn’t have a pet crow hanging around.”
The Nightmare Dilemma (Arkwell Academy) Page 15