The Complete Set

by Ainsley Shay

  27

  22 days after ~

  Lord Darenfys was the one who came to my room. I was shocked and displeased when I saw him. I wanted to see the warrior with the dark eyes. Although, I knew he couldn’t help me, something gave me the feeling that he wanted to.

  The Lord bowed to me, which I found odd. He was not the type to lower himself to anyone. “My dearest Catherine, and the soon-to-be Lady Darenfys. Please—”

  “I will be no such thing!”

  “Oh, my dear, but you will. In fact, the coronation will be held tomorrow.”

  “I would rather die.”

  “Well, if you wish, I can arrange that as well. But, I must forewarn you, it won’t be a swift death.” He held his arm out for me to link mine through. “Before you decide your fate, I want to show you all that you would be giving up.”

  “You are the one who has decided my fate. You, and the evil coursing through your veins.”

  “You are partially correct.” Amused, he laughed.

  I screamed in frustration. “How can you take away my freedom and feel nothing?”

  “I take whatever I want. And, I assure you, I feel everything.”

  A guard appeared behind him. I knew it was him when I saw his eyes. I had wondered a hundred times what the rest of his face looked like. For some reason, I felt safer knowing he was going to accompany us on the tour. I walked out of the room and passed Lord Darenfys. I stood at the end of the corridor and waited for them to catch up.

  “Catherine, my dear, you are showing great excitement. I love it.” They caught up and since I had no idea where I was going, or what he wanted to show me, I had no choice but to slow. “There’s a room I want to show you. Actually, it’s what is in the room.”

  Lit torches lined every corridor. I had the urge to grab one from the wall and set the Lord on fire, along with the entire God forsaken castle. He cupped my elbow and guided me through the halls. I could feel the guard’s presence behind me. We finally stopped in front of a closed door.

  “This room has only been seen by three people; you will make four,” the Lord said proudly. He nodded to the guard.

  The guard pulled out a set of keys and sifted through them. After choosing one, he inserted it into the keyhole and turned. The door eased open. A stream of moonlight floated through the room and fell over my arm and over my chest. At first, I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. Then piece-by-piece, I knew. There had to be at least thirty of them in the vast room. Statues.

  When I woke, the word came out like a guttural and primitive noise instead of a word. Statues. Some of the same statues I saw just this morning at Adelina’s house. It had to be my unconscious mind screwing with me. It had to be.

  I looked at my phone and hoped I would see a text or something from Snow. Nothing. Last night I called and texted her dozens of times, and she ignored every one of them. I wish she had given me the chance to explain. I knew in my heart the only way to make amends was to tell her the truth about everything. There was still a lot I had no idea about, or why it was happening to me. But, it would be a start.

  Blacwin. Could he be the one who killed my dad? Was I being just as unfair as Snow, and not giving him a chance to explain? I had no idea at that point. I felt like I was between worlds; my world, the one I knew and understood, and another world I somehow belonged to, but was foreign. Could Blacwin be the one behind the armor, the one whose eye’s looked sad and miserable, the one who tried to tell me there was no hope? Nothing felt right, but everything felt familiar. I was really starting to lose it.

  Text on phone read: School?

  It was from Chandler. I didn’t want to go back to school until things were right between Snow and me. I also dreaded my Creative Writing class today with Mr. Pene. He knew of a place that existed only in my nightmares, and I wanted to know more of what he knew, but being a coward in the freak-out department, I would never have the guts to ask.

  About five minutes later, I responded ‘yes’ to his text. I had to make a point of going to class and hoped, between Chandler and I, we would make it right with my best friend. Then I messaged him: You’d better make this right!

  School was an absolute nightmare. I think I decided in about three seconds to drop out and get my GED. Seriously, it wasn’t worth the aggravation and the endless amount of drama. Snow was already at her desk when I walked in. Mr. Pene, as usual, was at the podium reading a book, surrounded by twenty girls, most of who never even bothered to learn the law of a simple comma. But, there they were, hounding the man to know what the essence of life was. I threw up in my mouth a little.

  “Snow,” I said as I slid into the desk behind her.

  “What?”

  The hurt from the tone of that one word went deep. I had never heard her talk to me like that. I took the deepest breath I could, because, I honestly didn’t know when I would take my next. “Snow, please. It’s not what you think. I would never—”

  “I know.” Her words were quiet; which made me want to cry more. But, I couldn’t help but take advantage of the moment. In rescue mode, I dove in.

  I’d kept so much from her for the last few weeks, and this was my moment to be brutally honest. “Things have been happening...” That’s all I could say before she looked at me. The expression I saw in her eyes was the same look she gave me after my father had passed. It was familiar and unsettling, raw and sad.

  “I know, and I haven’t been there for you like I should have been.”

  The bell rang for class to begin. I knew it wasn’t the time or the place, but I needed to hug her, to tell her she wasn’t the one at fault. I was. The whole time I was the one, and that’s what I told her in a hushed tone. Her smile was soft but unconvinced. I hated that she felt any guilt over this.

  I took out my phone and texted Chandler: Did you say anything to Snow?

  Chandler: A little compelling never hurt anyone.

  What did that mean? When I started to text back, I realized Mr. Pene was calling on me. When I looked up, most of the class was staring at me.

  “Miss Thorn, do we have more important things to do besides giving me your full attention?”

  Ah yeah, a ton of other shit that was much more important than you. “No,” I said. I learned early on that there were certain occasions where lying was sometimes better than stating the truth. This was one of those moments. I slid my phone back into my bag and took out the assignment I had written.

  Those effing eyes of his held me and refused to release me until he looked away. “Okay guys, as you all know, you have an assignment due today.” He sat on the edge of his desk, grinned at the room as most of the room took out the assignment, while others groaned and slipped in sarcastically mumbled complaints. Mr. Pene didn’t look at me for a long time, which I found to be a little weird, but also relieving. There was an air about him; he commanded respect in a very silent way, and people gave it to him.

  “Our dreams reveal so much. I especially enjoyed reading your assignments from last week. That’s why I gave you this follow-up assignment to continue our dream saga. They invite us into worlds in the future, present, and sometimes, our past.” As the last word fell from his lips he looked at me. It was so intense I felt as though I could have fallen back in my chair and gone through the floor. I knew I visibly shuddered. He turned his back to me and walked to the board.

  “Let’s get started.” On the board, he wrote “death.” I shrank in my seat. Couldn’t he think of something else for today’s topic? Then he wrote the word “love.”

  “Romeo and Juliet,” Chelsea blurted out.

  “Hold your tongue, Miss Montague.” The class laughed as he wrote the word “blood.” The three words were written side by side. Where was he going with this? When I looked around the room, my face was not the only one that was blank. He turned and looked directly at me, “Miss Thorn, would you like to enlighten us with the words on the board?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Aren’t you polite?�
� The disappointment in his voice echoed over his handsome features. He quickly recovered and smiled. “How about Miss Montague?”

  Chelsea was all giggles. “Well, okay. We all experience them at some point in our lives.”

  “Excellent answer.”

  She held her hands close to her chest and did that dumb seal clap. It was sickening to witness how proud she was to please Mr. Pene.

  He looked at me. “Yes, we all experience those things, and those are some of the things you might be dreaming about.” He looked at the rest of the class “Throw in some aliens driving a golf cart while wearing tutu’s, and there’s your paper.” For the next forty-five minutes he explained how we might perceive things from our dreams to be real. The bell rang. “Get a good night’s sleep and... sweet dreams.” The whole class, minus me, laughed and giggled. It was like he’d put everyone into a trance. His voice didn’t penetrate the air, but coated it like a warm blanket, giving everyone a safe and comfortable feeling, everyone but me.

  28

  “Why does Mr. Pene keep looking at you like that?” asked Snow when we left class.

  I wasn’t exactly sure how obvious his stares were to the rest of the class, or if I imagined the intensity of them. Now I was sure I wasn’t crazy. “Snow, that’s part of what I want to tell you.” I hadn’t thought I needed to go there, but it didn’t matter at this point. “I think Mr. Pene knows things, and I’m not sure how, but he does.”

  “What are you talking about? Is he like blackmailing you or something?”

  The halls were too crowded for this conversation. “Why don’t we ditch Chandler and whoever else gets in our way and get some coffee after school, and I’ll tell you what’s been going on?”

  “I’ll meet you at your car.” She hugged me goodbye, and we went our separate ways.

  The day dragged by. By the time the final bell rang, I was eager to spill everything to Snow. I needed my best friend more than I ever had. Across the courtyard, I saw Mr. Pene talking with someone who looked, from this distance, exactly like Snow. Please God, don’t let her be confronting him. My praying would do no good but damn it, I wanted it to.

  I didn’t stop; I went directly to my car. My phone buzzed.

  Chandler: Everything all right with Snow?

  I ignored his question and asked the one I wanted to this morning.

  Me: What did you say to her?

  Chandler: What are you talking about?”

  Me: Compelled...

  Chandler: That’s nothing.

  Me: DON’T GO THERE! IT’S SOMETHING!

  Chandler: Don’t get all huffy with me. I was just trying to help.

  He was so infuriating I wanted to throw my phone down and watch it smash into a thousand pieces on the asphalt.

  Me: Next time I see you—you’re going to tell me what you said to her, more importantly, what you did!

  Chandler: I like those boots

  I looked up from my phone and saw Chandler leaning against my car looking like he just walked off the set of a GQ photo shoot. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his lop-sided grin was enough to set me in kill mode.

  “You need to get out of here. Snow is on her way, and we’re going for coffee to talk. I don’t need you—”

  “Talk about what?”

  “Things.”

  “Iris.” I hated when he said my name like I’d done something wrong and a spanking was coming. “Don’t tell her about your nightmares.”

  “Why? What’s the big deal?” I pushed around him and opened the car door.

  “It’s not in her best interest. She’s better off not—”

  “Oh fuck!—Chandler, I’m tired of all this not knowing crap. You don’t tell me shit! Blacwin—” I stopped myself. It was better not to bring him into this now.

  “Blacwin, what?”

  “Nothing.” I adverted my eyes across the parking lot.

  “Something?”

  “Please just leave.”

  “I’ll call you later.” Anger and desperation filled his tone.

  I only shook my head. He could call all he wanted, but I wasn’t going to answer. I got in the driver’s seat and waited for Snow. I saw her coming and my stomach clenched. Was I ready to bare all? I had to, even despite Chandler’s warning—which I took more as a suggestion than a warning. Snow deserved to know everything, starting with the man in the cemetery at the funeral. But first, I had a question for her.

  Snow slid in the passenger seat. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” I jumped on my curiosity like a bull and reined it in. “Why were you talking to Mr. Pene?”

  “I wanted to know what he had over you.” She said it so calmly as if she was telling me what kind of cologne he wore.

  I wanted to ask her why she would do that. But, I already knew the answer to that; she was Snow, my best friend, the one who always looked out for me, would take out anyone who tried to hurt me in any way. Knowing that, I had a hard time getting mad at her. “What did he say?”

  “Nothing, really. He said he really liked your paper and wished you’d write more about it.”

  “He’s such an ass,” I said under my breath.

  “Why do you hate him so much?”

  Ignoring her question, I started the engine. “Let’s go get that coffee, okay?”

  The tables outside were vacant and dry since it hadn’t rained today. Snow went to get our coffees, and I walked across the street to go to the bookshop to check on Mr. Yves and leave my bag there. Two men stood from the club chairs in the center of the shop when I walked in. One was Mr. Yves, and the other was Blacwin. His face was unshaven and dark with bewilderment and anguish.

  “Iris, my dear, what a surprise.”

  I glanced away from Blacwin and looked at Mr. Yves. He looked like he had aged since I saw him last, which was only a couple of days ago. “I just thought I’d stop in to check on you, and wanted to leave my bag here.”

  “I’m fine dear. Just fine.” He waved me over to where they stood. “Blacwin came in to see you. I told him you were planning on coming in today. Then, we just got to talking and haven’t stopped.”

  I wondered what they were so deep in conversation about, but it was none of my business to ask. “That’s... ah, nice.” The words fell from my mouth. I didn’t know exactly what to say. If only Mr. Yves knew he was chatting with, and entertaining the man who may have killed my father.

  Blacwin’s stare only intensified. “Can I talk to you?” The pain in his voice started me down a path I couldn’t travel right now.

  “I can’t.” I turned toward the direction of the cafe. “I’m having coffee with Snow. I haven’t really spent any time with her, and we have some catching up to do.”

  He nodded solemnly. “Can I call you later?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” I was trying to be polite in front of Mr. Yves. But, I wanted to stomp right up to Blacwin and bang my fists against his hard chest. He was getting away with murder and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I kissed Mr. Yves on the cheek and told him I’d be back to get my bag before the store closed. I gave Blacwin a weak wave and walked back to the cafe. Snow was sitting at the table for two, with our coffees.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “How are you holding up?” she asked.

  “So-so. I just wish I could go back in time and make everything right.”

  “I wish there was some way to take the pain away.” Her eyes rose over my shoulder. “Is that Blacwin?”

  “Yeah.” I didn’t look behind me. He was probably leaving the bookshop.

  “He’s looking right at you. Why don’t you ask him to join us?” She started to get up.

  “No!” I put my hand on hers. “I just want it to be you and me.” She eased back down. “Listen, Snow, I want to tell you the crazy shit that has happened since my dad was murdered.”

  “What!?”

  I mentally cursed myself. I had forgotten I hadn’t told her about the note I found, which seemed like a lifetime ag
o. I took a deep breath. “Please let me tell you everything, then you can ask me questions. But, I doubt I’ll be able to answer any of them, so don’t get your hopes up.”

  “Okay.”

  I tried to tell her everything in order. I found talking about it to her was easier than I had expected. She had to clamp her hand over her mouth a couple of times, but she kept her word and kept quiet. I knew it wasn’t easy for her as she listened to the craziness pour out of my mouth, but she had.

  I told her about the man at the cemetery, running into Chandler, meeting Blacwin at the store and why he had originally come in—for Adelina deBlays’ journals—and the creepiness I felt around Mr. Pene. The more I kept talking about things, the more of a release I felt from the pent-up frustration. I told her about what I found at my dad’s house, the note, and the statue that looked like my tattoo. I started to get weary before I told her Blacwin was the one who murdered my dad. So, I decided to leave that for another time.

  “After my father died, I began to have nightmares.”

  “Well, that only makes sense.”

  I shook my head. “Not like normal nightmares.”

  “I didn’t think any nightmares were normal.” She crooked her fingers in quote marks around the word normal.

  “Snow. These nightmares are in color.”

  Her hands flew to her mouth and in a mumbled voice she said, “You’re shitting me.”

  “No, and not only that—”

  “Wait! You’re telling me that when you go to sleep at night, you’re dreaming in color?”

  “Well, yes... but not exactly. It only happens when I have certain nightmares.”

  “Like recurring? I hate those. When I was around eight, I kept having this one over, and over, and over. It was awful.”