on, go have a seat. I’ll fix you a sandwich.”
As much as I wanted to protest that I didn’t want a sandwich (an extra two miles on tonight’s run) my stomach wouldn’t be denied. The blood rushed from my head to my gut, and I found myself walking back into the dining room and taking my seat at the table. Quinn followed behind me, deposited the coffee in front of me. Nick and Illana were pretending not to notice me, but when my head dropped I could feel their eyes on me. Judging me.
I didn’t reach for the coffee cup again, terrified of what would happen if I saw my hands shaking again. Everything’s spinning away. Spinning and rolling and off on its own. My shirt clung to my skin, sticky with sweat and stinking of fear that hadn’t reared its head until I came into this room. Until I was fully faced with what had happened this morning.
A Prince came to talk to me. To talk. Like we were friends. A wraith nearly killed Justin and Jenna, and I get the chatty, pretty boy demon. But thinking back, all I could remember of the Prince was a silvery blur in my mind. No impression had stuck, he was just a placeholder of feelings I couldn’t explain and sensations that had hollowed me out. I could have died, and instead I’m having a breakdown. The thought made me laugh. And once I started, I couldn’t stop.
“He’ll be fine,” Illana said crisply as I looked up, and saw Nick half out of his chair. “It’s not exactly a trauma, but it is traumatic in its own way.” She leaned forward, fixing her clasped hands over her knee. There was nothing of the harsh, knife-like woman I’d come to know. She smiled, her eyes sad but sincere. “It becomes easier, Malcolm. Take your time. Get yourself together as best you can. Then tell us what happened.”
The plate being set down in front of me made me jump, the contrast in sound from Illana’s soothing tone. Who even knew that Illana had a soothing tone? Justin would never believe it. Justin. I looked up at Quinn immediately, but the words tangled on my tongue. “They … it … what … ”
“Everyone else is fine,” Quinn confirmed. “We’ve got people keeping an eye on them. The creature didn’t try to make contact with anyone else.”
Just me then. I nodded gratefully and then looked down at the sandwich. I devoured it with single-minded purpose, barely chewing before the entire thing was gone and there were only crumbs between my fingers.
I tested the coffee, taking only a small sip. Hot, but the burning sensation down my throat wasn’t because of the temperature. I sniffed the cup, then shifted towards Quinn. Illana was the one who answered, though. “A bit of Irish whiskey to help calm the nerves. Drink up. There is still much to be decided today.”
None of my siblings were big drinkers. Lowered inhibitions meant the possibility that someone slipped up, that spells were cast when they shouldn’t. Now, though, I downed the rest of the cup gratefully, feeling the burn down my throat and settling into my stomach.
“That’s a good boy,” Illana hummed. “Now when you’re ready, tell us everything that happened.”
It was harder than it sounded. Once I started, I couldn’t find a single thread to follow through to the end. My thoughts were scattered, broken things. Memories were disjointed and didn’t fit properly together. I told them first what the thrones looked like, then followed it up with the Prince’s talk about being human. Then jumped back to the beginning, and talked about the glowing symbol on the stage.
The more I talked, the more I couldn’t hold it in, but I couldn’t make my brain focus long enough to put the pieces in order. Finally, I stopped, mid-sentence, and looked up at the three of them. Their faces had gotten darker and more grim the longer I talked. “What’s wrong with me.”
Nick leaned back in his chair, thoughtful and relaxed. None of this bothered him in the slightest, and I clung to that. To them, this was
As much as I wanted to protest that I didn’t want a sandwich (an extra two miles on tonight’s run) my stomach wouldn’t be denied. The blood rushed from my head to my gut, and I found myself walking back into the dining room and taking my seat at the table. Quinn followed behind me, deposited the coffee in front of me. Nick and Illana were pretending not to notice me, but when my head dropped I could feel their eyes on me. Judging me.
I didn’t reach for the coffee cup again, terrified of what would happen if I saw my hands shaking again. Everything’s spinning away. Spinning and rolling and off on its own. My shirt clung to my skin, sticky with sweat and stinking of fear that hadn’t reared its head until I came into this room. Until I was fully faced with what had happened this morning.
A Prince came to talk to me. To talk. Like we were friends. A wraith nearly killed Justin and Jenna, and I get the chatty, pretty boy demon. But thinking back, all I could remember of the Prince was a silvery blur in my mind. No impression had stuck, he was just a placeholder of feelings I couldn’t explain and sensations that had hollowed me out. I could have died, and instead I’m having a breakdown. The thought made me laugh. And once I started, I couldn’t stop.
“He’ll be fine,” Illana said crisply as I looked up, and saw Nick half out of his chair. “It’s not exactly a trauma, but it is traumatic in its own way.” She leaned forward, fixing her clasped hands over her knee. There was nothing of the harsh, knife-like woman I’d come to know. She smiled, her eyes sad but sincere. “It becomes easier, Malcolm. Take your time. Get yourself together as best you can. Then tell us what happened.”
The plate being set down in front of me made me jump, the contrast in sound from Illana’s soothing tone. Who even knew that Illana had a soothing tone? Justin would never believe it. Justin. I looked up at Quinn immediately, but the words tangled on my tongue. “They … it … what … ”
“Everyone else is fine,” Quinn confirmed. “We’ve got people keeping an eye on them. The creature didn’t try to make contact with anyone else.”
Just me then. I nodded gratefully and then looked down at the sandwich. I devoured it with single-minded purpose, barely chewing before the entire thing was gone and there were only crumbs between my fingers.
I tested the coffee, taking only a small sip. Hot, but the burning sensation down my throat wasn’t because of the temperature. I sniffed the cup, then shifted towards Quinn. Illana was the one who answered, though. “A bit of Irish whiskey to help calm the nerves. Drink up. There is still much to be decided today.”
None of my siblings were big drinkers. Lowered inhibitions meant the possibility that someone slipped up, that spells were cast when they shouldn’t. Now, though, I downed the rest of the cup gratefully, feeling the burn down my throat and settling into my stomach.
“That’s a good boy,” Illana hummed. “Now when you’re ready, tell us everything that happened.”
It was harder than it sounded. Once I started, I couldn’t find a single thread to follow through to the end. My thoughts were scattered, broken things. Memories were disjointed and didn’t fit properly together. I told them first what the thrones looked like, then followed it up with the Prince’s talk about being human. Then jumped back to the beginning, and talked about the glowing symbol on the stage.
The more I talked, the more I couldn’t hold it in, but I couldn’t make my brain focus long enough to put the pieces in order. Finally, I stopped, mid-sentence, and looked up at the three of them. Their faces had gotten darker and more grim the longer I talked. “What’s wrong with me.”
Nick leaned back in his chair, thoughtful and relaxed. None of this bothered him in the slightest, and I clung to that. To them, this was
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