This…wasn’t happening. Bryan did not just walk away from me. Did we just break up for real? Would he be back? I blinked back the burn behind my eyes and inhaled sharply. He’d be back. He had to be. He was the only part of any of this craziness that made sense. If I lost him, I’d lose my sanity.
I shuffled back to my treehouse and collapsed into a chair before resting my elbows on the table, my fingers in my hair holding up my head. The faint sound of the percolator kept me company. I don’t know how long I stayed like that before a noise caught my attention, I shot out of the chair and sent a blast of air toward the large entrance.
Stace countered with her own air, swallowing my call and killing it. “Whoa, Katy. What was that all about?”
“Sorry.” I assumed my original moping position as my entire life with Bryan flashed before my eyes.
“Are you okay?”
“I’ve been better,” I answered while remaining hidden behind a curtain of red hair.
She took a seat next to me and folded her hands in front of her, waiting. Stacey Layden was extremely patient when it came to getting me to open up. She’d sit with me for hours if that was what it took to get me to talk.
I decided to save us both some time. “Bryan left.”
“I saw that.”
That was it? No words of comfort? Of encouragement? Just an acknowledgment that she’d seen him leave? Fucking awesome. I sank even lower in the chair. “He said he needs time to think.”
“About?”
“My plan on how I’m going to reach potential recruits for Sentry. I’m going to use my webcomic to send messages.”
“I see.” Silence invaded the conversation again. “How are you going to know the difference between those who want to join the uprising and those who want to serve the Council?”
I lifted my head and studied her expression, so tight with worry. When she frowned, the creases at her eyes and the corners of her lips deepened. “I, uh…”
“I see you haven’t thought that far ahead.”
Ouch, Stace. Way to make me feel better. I lowered my head, resting my cheek against the cool surface of the wood table and facing away from her. Here I thought my life sucked. She’d found a way to make me feel worse.
“Who do you trust the most? Out of anyone in this world, who would you take at face value, no questions asked?” Her lisp really came out with those questions.
“The guys, without any hesitation.”
“Anyone else?”
I turned and rested my other cheek on the table so I could face her. She sat there, the same warm smile sending her eyes into a kind dance that tugged at my heartstrings every time. Aside from the guys, she’d been the only one to actually treat me with any level of respect.
No, that wasn’t true. Lulu had, but she’d left, just like everyone else in my life.
Except for the guys and the woman, the mentor, sitting at the table with me.
Time to stop swimming in the deep end of the pity pool. I had an entire support group. I needed to start using it for more than complaining about everything that’d gone FUBAR in my life, mostly because I’d been the one to FUBAR it.
Was that right? Was FUBAR a noun? Or a verb? Did it even matter?
Clearly, I’d already gone batshit crazy.
“You know I trust you, Stace. I trust you more than I trust myself.”
“Then that’s a problem. You should trust no one above yourself. If you want to be an effective leader, you have to be confident in your choices. Your confidence will give them confidence. A confident army is a competent army.”
Catchy. I just might use that in my next webcomic episode. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
I still had my head on the table. Baby steps. “Do you think we stand a chance? Even if we recruit every alchemist and elemental resistant out there, the Council’s reach is pretty vast.”
There went that warm, knowing smile again. Stace’s brain always seemed to be one step ahead of mine. “It may seem vast, but it’s shallow at best.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means what you see isn’t always what you get.”
“Ugh.” I lifted my head and groaned into the air. “You sound like Cressida. She’s always giving me these cryptic answers. I don’t need that from you too. Would you just come out with it?”
Her smile wilted, making me feel like a pile of crap for growling at her. She was only trying to help. I was a mess, and a hot one at that. “The Council may seem to have influence on the surface, but peel that back, and you’ll find an entire army wishing they had the guts to do what you’re doing now. You’re taking charge, Katy. You’re being a true prophecy, protecting our world from evil at any cost.”
“Why does it always have to be me?” Yes, I was whining. I didn’t care and rested my cheek back on the table. “Why can’t someone else be the one to volunteer as the sacrificial lamb this time?”
“Because none of them were decreed the prophecy.”
“Oh sure, by some group of old guys in fancy black suits.”
“No, by the original prophecy.”
I slowly rose to a sitting position and blinked back the shock. “You know about Cressida choosing the prophecies?”
“I know she chose you. I don’t know about any of the other ones the Council had proclaimed the prophecy, but I do know she’s the one who foretold of you being the one to stand in the way of ultimate supremacy that night she came to the coven. She warned of a great war coming, one that rivaled the war in her time, and how the one who stands in the way will arrive on the Ides of March.”
“Arrive?” I
