Wyatt stood in the doorway, picking at the edges of his torn pants, suddenly unsure of everything he had put his faith in before. He knew he needed Athena on his side, just as he knew he needed to find Rozen. Whether it was destiny that called to him, he couldn’t be sure, but enraging Athena cut him deeper than most of his shortcomings ever had.
“Are you just going to stare at us, or you gonna come sit down like a normal person?” Athena said without moving.
Wyatt shuffled his feet and collapsed on the vacant stool at her side. His fingers still played at his pants, and his mouth felt like he had swallowed the Dunes. The words he had thought to say vanished and so he simply sat, watching Maia, and occasionally darting glances at Athena. Her silver longsword sat against the wall, dark with dried blood, and within easy reach.
The silence was suffocating and only made Wyatt more uneasy. During the battle, he had thought the quiet darkness an ally, just as the elves did, and for a time he did, but now a familiar feeling crept over him. He shifted his gaze to the corners of the room, hunting for what always came from them. In the frenzy of the fight, he had forgotten about the shades that haunted him, and he had forgotten about his encounter with Julia atop the roof of Greenwood. He shivered, fearing what he may return to. If he ever returned.
“Are you—” Wyatt began, but the sound of his voice sounded like thunder and he lost his nerve. Why did she make him feel that way?
Athena sighed and lifted her head to look at him. Even in the gloom, Wyatt could see she had been crying. “Am I what, Wy’? Mad at you?”
He merely nodded.
Athena ran a hand through her hair and looked away. “Damn straight, I’m mad. I don’t know what you did back there, but Maia needed you. I needed you.”
“What are you talking about? I saved us. And you told me to fight Fae’Herot. I protected her,” Wyatt said, nodding at the bed.
“Yeah, but what you did…”
“I had to. I’m stronger now. It was the only way.”
Athena swiveled back toward him, but didn’t look directly at him. “And after…you just stood there, screaming.”
“You said all this before.”
Athena shook her head. “I called for you. And you just stood there. The fight finally ended, and you were still just standing there, like some statue, in the middle of…whatever was left of that faerie. Maia was hurt and no one else would come. You told me how you saved Rozen. You claimed to have such power. But you didn’t help Maia, now did you? I guess that was just for your precious princess.”
Wyatt was stunned. Fury began to build in his belly, at the indignation of it all. But the hurt in her words kept it at bay and allowed shame to sweep over. “I had to.”
Athena turned on him. “Had to Wy’? Had to what? Turn to the dark side and forget about your friends?”
Wyatt hung his head. I shouldn’t have come back, he thought. D’orca was right about a lot, but Athena won’t ever understand.
After a long moment, Athena said softly, “I didn’t like seeing you like that. It was…you scared me, Wy’. You really…scared me.”
“I had to, Athena,” he said carefully, knowing he was just repeating the same tired lines. “If I want to find Rozen and help protect everyone from the Regency, then I need to become stronger. And I am. I’ve never felt so powerful. I think that…I think that now I have a chance. And D’orca said that Rozen is with the Gazar—”
“Then go!” Athena snapped, jumping upright from her seat. The stool clattered off the wall and nearly shook Wyatt from his.
“What?” he said, unable to control the tremor in his voice.
“All you care about is showing everyone how strong and mighty you are. So, go. Go and find your precious Rozen and do battle with the Regency.”
Wyatt stood. “But you have to come, too.”
Athena took a step toward him, her eyes sparkling defiantly in the candlelight. “I don’t have to do a goddamn thing you say, Wy’. I’m not here to fight your war. I’m not here to save your princess.”
Wyatt wanted to bring up the fact that he was the reason she was in the Realms at all. But he didn’t. It was a song he knew she didn’t care for, much as he liked to sing it. And to be honest, he still wasn’t quite certain of what he had done to so anger her.
They stared at each other for a tense moment, until movement in the bed snapped the tension. Athena rushed to the bed and helped Maia sit up as she groggily came to. The spriteling groaned and tried to speak, but only managed to cough and say a few unintelligible words.
“Don’t talk,” Athena said, slowly leaning her against the crude headboard. “You’re just fine.”
Wyatt took a step toward the bed, hoping to offer words of support, but he stopped as Athena glared at him. “I told you to leave,” she said flatly.
Wyatt opened his mouth, shut it, and left the room. He heard Maia try to speak again, followed by a shrill laugh from Athena. He had not taken more than a couple steps from the room and already her mood had shifted. Wyatt shuffled toward the door to the building and pulled it open. Then he shut it.
“No,” he whispered to himself, hissing through clenched teeth. “I won’t leave her behind. She’s my friend and I love—” Still standing at the door, the air seemed to vanish from the room at his stunning realization. He let go of the door and found his hands trembling. It was strange. The energy coursing through his body…it wasn’t from the gem—that was different—though a similar hunger was taking seed. He shook his head and turned to walk back to Athena. Whether destiny or not, he couldn’t think about it any longer. I’m tired of leaving people behind, he said as he stepped to the open doorway.
“Athen—” Her name evaporated from his tongue as he took in the sight of Athena and Maia wrapped in a lover’s embrace. Their lips were pressed tightly together, and their arms were in a tangle as they held each other as if it would be their last chance to touch.
Neither took notice of Wyatt and he pulled himself away before they could. His eyes burned and he stumbled from the building in a daze. He tried to keep walking, but at some point, he was on his knees. I’m such an idiot, he thought, cursing himself. And as the gem in his chest sparked to life, ushering him away, he didn’t fight it. Instead, he embraced it, knowing that whatever awaited him could not hurt nearly as bad as what he was leaving behind.
“I don’t belong,” he whispered as the world vanished. I don’t belong anywhere.
Chapter Thirty-Two
WHEN WYATT OPENED his eyes, and managed to clear away the tears enough to see, he was greeted by the sight of a newly risen sun. The scent of pine was heavy in the air, stinging his nostrils, but it sharpened his mind.
He was in a pine forest and for a moment he thought he was still in Gazaria, but on a second look he realized the trees around him were far smaller and the rays of sun glinting among the needles were a warm orange. Instinctively, he clutched at his chest and found the pendant just as it had been before—just a pendant. He released it and stood.
Transitioning between worlds was always overwhelming and it often took several moments before he felt normal, or at least what he figured was normal. As the effects of his travel faded, images of Athena and Maia returned. Tears sprung fresh and he didn’t bother stifling them. What was the point? He was alone, now more than ever, though he now doubted that he had ever not been alone. Had any of those he considered friends—or even more—truly been so? It was clear that Athena had merely used him to escape The Crook, Rozen had warmed to him at some point as they trained together under the twin moons, but having betrayed her trust at the end was certain to have severed their relationship. Mareck and Gareck showed the same ferocious friendship with everyone, and Grenleck was little more than a pet. Had been, he corrected himself.
He spun and punched a tree. He let out a broken shout and collapsed to the ground. “I have nothing,” he muttered. He wrapped his fingers around the gnarled root at his side and opened his mind, searching for what he kne
w didn’t exist in the world. He could not discern anything within the tree or any other piece of the world around him. He climbed to his knees and brought both hands to the rough trunk. He pushed against it with both his body and his mind.
“I have to be more,” he growled. “I need more. If I’m stronger, I can fix things. I can fix Rozen. I can fix Athena. I can fix…me.”
At first, he thought he was merely imagining it. But as he pleaded with existence, he found it. Deep within the tree, and now fixed in his mind, he found a thread. It was weak at first, so much so that he thought it his own desperation. But then it grew stronger, or at least his awareness of it did.
The shock of it nearly broke his focus, but the thought of Athena and Maia, along with the echoing cries of Rozen as she was carried away from him, kept him in the moment. The Mother’s voice, he thought, searching deeper, it’s here. On Earth.
A burning sensation blossomed in his chest and snaked through the rest of his body and the life force within the tree became a vibrant beacon. “I am more,” he shouted, eyes shut and mind lashed to the tree’s energy. And with that he pulled at it, greedily consuming every bit of it that he could in a single moment.
A deep crack echoed in the still morning as a large section of the tree broke beneath his hands. The great pine had likely stood for a century or more, but now it crumbled, taking out another as it fell weightily to the forest floor. A cloud of dust and pine needles filled the air.
Wyatt stared at it for a long time, breathing heavily and hungering for more. Then he laughed. Like a madman, he laughed. I am alone, he thought. But I need no one. Let them turn their backs, let them leave me. I am more than any of them could even dream.
He took one last breath of the dust-filled air and set off toward Greenwood. He had once run from the darkness and feared the shades more than anything else. But no more. Whatever they hid, he would unveil it. He had once longed for the companionship of others. He had fooled himself into believing that he and Athena could be more. He had lied to himself when he said Rozen was a friend. He thought Julia had welcomed him into a secret world, but even she had proved an enemy. But no longer. His magic had finally crossed over. And he was done chasing anything but his own power.
He broke the border of the forest and came within full view of Greenwood. He laughed again and began running.
* * *
Ms. Abagail was just ringing the doorbell at the main entrance when Wyatt reached the front steps of the hospital. He ran to her side and stood, sucking air, and smiling.
“Wyatt?” she said, clearly surprised to see him in such a state. “Are you supposed to be out here?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
The heavy wooden door opened and revealed a young male nurse. He looked at Ms. Abagail, began to say something, but stopped when he saw Wyatt. He then looked back to Ms. Abagail, as if expecting an answer to his unspoken question.
Wyatt pushed past him, calling over his shoulder as he sauntered down the hallway, “We were just out on a walk together. Nurse Bonnie said it was okay if it was quick.”
He didn’t hear a response from either the nurse or Ms. Abagail, but neither stopped him as he walked straight to his room. They both followed after, and the nurse unlocked his bedroom door without a word. Wyatt bowed theatrically to the man and stepped inside. He heard Ms. Abagail awkwardly thank him and shut the door behind her.
“What’s going on?” she asked, still standing near the door.
Wyatt fell backwards onto his bed. “Don’t worry about it,” he quipped.
“Have you been running around without permission again?”
He sat up and leaned against the wall. Ms. Abagail stared at him a moment before sighing and sitting on the corner of the bed furthest from him.
“They say you haven’t been engaging in group sessions.”
Wyatt frowned. He hadn’t even remembered attending a single session, though he knew he’d been expected to. He shrugged. It didn’t matter.
“You have to work at it, if you want to get out of here,” she said plainly.
“I don’t care if I get out. It doesn’t matter. Nothing here does.”
Ms. Abagail looked at him deeply and shook her head. “Don’t say that. I was hoping I’d get good news when I came today. I’d like to see you get back to The Crook.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Of course, I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care, Wyatt. What’s with you today?”
“Nothing is with me,” he nearly shouted, a strange anger rising within him. “And stop acting like you care about me. No one else does, but at least they have the decency to make it obvious.”
Ms. Abagail looked like she’d been punched in the gut. Tears lined the edge of her eyelids and her cheeks flushed. “I do care, Wyatt.” She stood and jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t you dare say I don’t. I don’t have to be here. And if it weren’t for me, you’d be in a far worse place. I vouched for you.”
“A worse place?” he yelled back. “Everywhere I’ve been has been a worse place. And all I’ve gotten is false promises and false friends. But I don’t care anymore. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.”
Ms. Abagail, finger still held in the air, opened her mouth, shut it, and walked to the window, turning her back on him. Like everyone did. Wyatt set his jaw and wished his stare could actually bore through the back of her skull. Why was she trying so hard? It was pointless. He was the untouchable. The unlovable. And he reveled in it now.
Ms. Abagail leaned against the small sill and Wyatt could see her wiping tears from her eyes, though she refused to face him. They sat in silence for what seemed an eternity, her staring into the distant world beyond the hospital, Wyatt staring at her back, wishing she’d come out and say the words he knew she felt.
“I’m sorry,” she said finally, still turned from him. “I’m sorry things have ended up this way for you. I know it sucks, believe me, I do. I thought being here would help, and maybe it will, just give it time.”
The hurt in her voice sounded real. It forced its way into Wyatt’s chest and made it difficult to breathe. But he couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t.
“And you’re not alone,” she said when he didn’t answer. “I’m not giving up, and you’ll make friends here.” Finally, she turned back, eyes dry, but lined in red. She brushed back a strand of pink hair and smiled. “What happened to Julia? I figured you’d hit it off after that introduction she gave you.”
“Is that a joke?”
Ms. Abagail returned to the bedside and sat again, this time closer to Wyatt. Her hands trembled slightly as she wrung them in her lap, but she maintained her smile, and it became increasingly difficult for Wyatt to fight it.
Finally, he sighed and looked away. “Julia’s not my friend.”
“Oh. What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me,” she said softly, coaxing him to look her way.
Wyatt shifted uncomfortably against the wall, feeling less in control than he had as he ran through the forest earlier. “She’s just crazy.”
“Oh?”
“She’s got like…I don’t know. She’s like more than one person, and I thought her normal self was cool, but she’s not. And she has some dumb secret club, and a dumb hideout on the roof. But it’s just…she’s not who she pretends to be.” He eyed Ms. Abagail, looking for a break in her façade. Looking for the lie that he knew was there.
“Well, that sucks,” she said. “But I’m sure there are other people here, maybe closer to your age that would make a better friend.”
“I don’t need anyone,” he retorted.
“Everyone needs someone, Wyatt.”
“I don’t.”
“Everyone,” she reiterated.
He didn’t respond. He felt numb. He didn’t like the way Ms. Abagail made him feel. Why was she toying with him? Just leave already, he thought.
As if on cue, Ms. Abagail stood and stu
ffed her hands into her pockets and headed for the door. “It’ll be all right,” she said. “You’ll figure things out eventually.”
I’ve already figured it out, he thought. He didn’t look up as Ms. Abagail said her farewell, instead fixating on his hands, wondering just what they were capable of.
Chapter Thirty-Three
THAT NIGHT, WYATT sat awake in bed, pressed into the corner as tightly as he could, but not for fear or escape. He was waiting. His eyes jumped from shadow to shadow, not wishing they’d stay still, but daring them to shift.
“Where are you?” he said to the empty room. “I’m not afraid of you anymore.”
A sudden noise from under the bed startled him and he grasped at his chest in an effort to prevent his heart from beating too far out of his body. It came again, a hushed whisper from the grate beneath his bed. The words were too soft to hear, but Wyatt didn’t care.
He laid on his stomach, hung his head over the side of the bed and shouted into the darkness, “Shut up, Julia, I’m waiting for them. I need quiet.”
He stayed in position, listening for a response, but didn’t receive one. Good, he thought. She got the message. He had spent the entire day trying to avoid her. Luckily, the nurses were content to let him stayed locked in his room, and all it took was a feigned attack against the nurse that had woken him for breakfast. He should have felt bad—he’d really given her a start—but he didn’t. He couldn’t bear seeing Julia again. Not after the incident on the roof…
“Are you mad at me?” a voice from the floor said a few minutes later.
Wyatt nearly crawled under the bed, thinking to get as close to her as possible, but then stopped. Was he mad at her? At first, he had been afraid, thinking her in league with his tormentors, but that had been before. He knew how powerful he was now, even on Earth. And he wasn’t afraid any longer. Not of the shades, nor the Regency, nor Fae or Gazarian slavers. So how could he be afraid of a little girl with a secret club?
“Dumb-name?” the voice said. Even through the duct work, Wyatt could sense the hurt in her tone.
The Druid's Guise: The Complete Trilogy (The Druid's Guise Trilogy) Page 52