Emory’s eyes widened at her father’s words as he roared, his voice bouncing off the walls, “Will you have me?”
Adair watched from above as the spark of Roque’s words caught, turning into an inferno. Tadeas clapped Roque on the back, grinning broadly as teachers and students started to yell, to chant, to praise: “Long live the King! Long live the Faes!”
Adair covered his mouth, his screams clawing against his throat, begging for release. The pounding booms of feet stomping, of yells clambered up the walls toward where Adair, shattering into a thousand pieces, lay hidden. His father had made a mistake, had been lied to and jaded by Roque. He promised him greatness and handed him the shadows. Was it wrong for his father to want more?
Yes.
Groaning, Adair covered his eyes, wishing to disappear. He knew firsthand how vicious his father could be, how twisted, how dark. He had been trying to break him for years and had left his family, tried to kill his best friend. For what? A title? Responsibility of ruling a country?
His muscles cramped and complained against his movements when he took a gulping breath and moved his hands underneath him. Getting ready to leave, Adair paused as Roque’s voice roared far below him.
“We are gathering senior students as well as teachers who are willing to become part of Tadeas’s group to assist in going to Sarthaven, to bring Cesan and his followers back.”
Roque was immediately lost in the chants, in the yells of approvals.
Adair gritted his teeth and left, maneuvering through the tunnel. He didn’t want to hear any more, to see his friends sign up to bring his father back. He didn’t want to watch Emory stand by her father’s side, knowing that there would always be a division between them now.
He was a traitor’s son, a scorned boy, harboring a dark ability. He was a weapon. He was barely a name, more like a shadow, one everyone was skittering away from.
Hot tears ran down his cheeks, and Adair didn’t stop them. A sharp buzzing filled his hearing as he shuffled to the left, starting the long climb back to the washrooms. The filtered grey light had dulled considerably, making the walls seem endless, like he could freefall into nothingness. Silently, he pushed ahead, trying to forget, trying not to fall into numbness. But for him, what was the point of trying? Everyone that resided in this cursed school had made up their judgements about him and his family.
But as he continued to climb, his thoughts went to his friends. What about Emory and Memphis? His heart dropped into his stomach at the thought of his small group of friends. What did they think of him now? Would they have forgiveness in their hearts for him, to know that he wasn’t following in his father’s footsteps?
His pulse picked up, making his skin slick and clammy at the thought.
“Don’t you want more?”
Adair froze, the hissing voices encircling his consciousnesses. He stuttered, “W-who’s there?”
His voice bounced off the tunnel’s walls. Peering into the darkness, Adair waited a beat. One, high pitched giggle bounced back from the other end of the tunnel. Scrambling back, Adair slipped, slamming his head against concrete, dots flickering in front of his eyes. It was like being doused in freezing water, every sense on overdrive, his nerves sparking with adrenaline. Fear coiled underneath his skin, soaking into his core.
It was the same voice, the same giggle from his nightmare. Impossible. You are just tired and stressed. Move. His thoughts egged him on, but he couldn’t. He curled his limbs into themselves, his breath quick as he made himself flush to the wall. Seconds passed, and all Adair could do was stare farther into the tunnel, where the voice had come from.
The light was fading, and to his left, Adair saw them first. The slim figures, crawling toward him, their tilting heads. Their permanent grins. He was mesmerized as they started crooning to him, “Adairrr. Adair, we have found you. Don’t you want to be noticed? Come with us, and we will show you the way. Come.”
It was impossible, yet Adair saw them crawl steadily to him, pale arms and black holes where their eyes should be. The air rippled, and Adair flinched, as he felt the ancient magic shudder through his bones. He somehow had bled the rules of reality and dream together.
They were in front of him now, caressing his arms, reaching for his face, tugging at his hair.
“Come with us. Follow your destiny.”
Their teeth glinted in the dark, sharp as knives, and Adair buried his head beneath his hands, shutting his eyes tight.
“This is not real. Not real. Not real.”
The giggles erupted around him, orchestrating his terror, and he felt a tongue lick up his cheek. Tasting him.
He was screaming now, flinching away from their touch, from their promises, from their hungry expressions. Clutching his knees to his chest, Adair fell into the fetal position, pressing his eyes shut.
The minutes turned into hours, the darkness swallowing him and the creatures whole. Adair was frozen, talking to himself, yelling at them to go away. His blood had slowed. His circulation cut off from being curled into a ball for so long. It wasn’t until the traces of dawn flickered into the tunnels that Adair lifted his head—his eyes swollen from crying and his voice hoarse—to see that he was utterly and completely alone, no trace of anyone ever being with him.
He uncurled his limbs, leaning over to empty his stomach, the bile burning his throat and nose. The acid
