Morning came with a gasp at the sound of my alarm. I hadn’t thought I would sleep, not after what had happened, but apparently I had. And whatever I’d been dreaming, it clearly hadn’t been good. My sheets were knotted around my legs and my pillows were on the floor and my bed was matted with cold sweat. I was suddenly grateful I couldn’t remember my dreams.
I turned off my alarm and closed my eyes, trying to get my heart to slow down as I tried to retrace my dream. No, I could remember something. Something about water. Water and darkness and my sister, screaming. Being pulled down into the depths by something. Something with my face . . .
“We’re having an assembly.”
Mike’s words pulled me from my thoughts with a shiver. I couldn’t tell if he sounded different from what he’d uttered last night.
“When?” I grumbled.
“Nine,” he replied. “After breakfast. About that guy who died.”
“Oh.” Like there would have been any other reason.
And then he left, banging the door behind him.
I turned my bleary eyes back to the shadow-streaked ceiling. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to think about what was waiting on the other side of that door. Another assembly. Another life lost. Another attempt at moving forward when I knew there was no such thing. There had already been rumors the school would shut down. Jonathan’s death would cement it.
I thought of the last time we’d had an assembly, when Kaira had convinced Ethan to take us off campus for sushi. When she’d run to the bathroom in a panic. Had she seen something then? Had she known what was coming for her, what the coming days would spell?
Then another thought triggered, one that vainly tried to pierce the heaviness of my mind. She would be at breakfast. We could talk after eating, before the assembly. I could figure out what the hell was going on. We would figure this out. Together.
Suddenly heartened, I slid out of bed and changed into clean clothes, skipping a shower because I hated showering in the morning and I didn’t want to risk missing Kaira at breakfast. It was already eight. Breakfast had been going for thirty minutes. She was probably already there. I glanced in the mirror on the way out—I didn’t look nearly as put together as I would have liked, but it would have to do. Jeans and a Henley and a bad case of five-o’clock scruff that made my sideburns and goatee look more like a beard. That wasn’t what made me stare, though. My eyes were different. A bags-under-my-eyes sort of thing, yes. But that couldn’t be what was making my irises look so much . . . lighter. It’s just stress, I thought, as though that could be any sort of explanation.
Before I could freak myself out, I stepped out the door and jogged down the hall toward the lobby.
Islington was always subdued in the mornings. The kids here didn’t seem to function until after breakfast, or at least until after their first coffee, and I wasn’t much different. But today felt off. Emptier. The few students walking to the cafeteria had their heads down, their conversations muted. It wasn’t until I’d trudged down the front steps and gotten halfway to the cafeteria that I realized why it felt like a funeral.
The birds were still missing. The sky was heavy and gray and empty—no black shadows swirling or cawing or fighting. It was one flat silver mirror, and the dullness of it reflected on the world below. No ravens in the trees. No crows on the power lines or perched on the eaves of the buildings. Their absence was like a presence in itself. Save for the kids, nothing moved. Nothing was alive. Everything seemed caught in a pallid photograph.
Which was why I nearly yelped when something moved atop the cafeteria roof. I’d thought it was just a mound of dirty snow. Then it twitched, and golden eyes blinked. Maybe it was my imagination, but I swear the owl watched me the entire way to the front door. Even when the door closed behind me, I could still feel its gaze.
At least it wasn’t the falcon. He had been strangely silent this morning. Normally, this was the ideal time for him to try to sneak into my thoughts. When my guard was down. When coffee hadn’t helped me build the necessary walls.
The scent of coffee and burnt eggs wafted through the room, somehow comforting in the wake of everything else. This was a normalcy I could embrace. I paused by the door and looked around the room. Most of the round tables were occupied. There was noise and movement and occasionally laughter. The vibrancy was jarring after the silence outside. It seemed like an affront, almost. Like Jonathan’s life wasn’t worth mourning.
Or maybe we were all just too scraped out to feel anything.
I made my way through the food line, skipping the eggs for some pancakes and a banana and coffee. I had to play it cool, even if every nerve of me wanted to run over to the table and drag Kaira away to talk. That wouldn’t work. Couldn’t work.
Especially because a small voice inside me kept saying that I was the only one who’d seen anything strange last night. Kaira’s quiet plea for help on the phone had just been in my imagination. Like everything else. There was another fear, too: that Ethan had changed his mind and turned me in, that he—always on the side of “justice” or whatever—had decided I wasn’t safe. At any moment, I expected a faculty member to pull me aside. Tell me that I was a suspect, because I’d been in the room with Jonathan last. I was seen on a security camera, or some shred of my DNA had been found on his body.
That was when I heard the falcon’s voice. And for once in my life, it was soothing.
Fear not, Endbringer. Your fate is not tied to the man’s.
I didn’t want to admit that his words were comforting.
I shook the thoughts away and focused on the room. But something was off. My classmates weren’t just talking and mingling. They were yelling.
Someone jumped from her chair to my right, punching the girl beside her before she got to her feet. Another group erupted in front of me, the whole round table flipped on its head, food and coffee flying everywhere. My eyes went wide as the fighting grew. A dancer boy in front of me was tossed onto his back, the leg of a chair immediately pressed to his neck as his breathing turned to a wheeze. A painter beside me stabbed her friend’s hand with a fork, the tines piercing into the table below. I blinked, tried to force away the violence, but when I opened my eyes, it was still there. It was worse. Blood was dripping from the tables now, gushing around my feet, and above us, falcons dripped from the ceiling like curses.
Vomit rose in the back of my throat. I stepped back, about to drop my tray.
“Hey!” someone yelped. I turned. And there was Tamora, wearing a fur coat and big sunglasses on her head and completely distanced from the violence. I looked back to the cafeteria. To the normal, bustling cafeteria. “Jumpy today,” she said, giving me a look that was a little too piercing for my liking. Does she suspect something . . . ?
I just apologized and started walking toward where we normally sat. I kept my eyes down. I didn’t want a relapse.
Then I looked up upon reaching our usual round table, and my heart dropped. Everyone was there. Everyone except Kaira.
Ethan sat beside his boyfriend, Oliver, and Elisa sat a few chairs from him beside her friend—and Jane’s roommate—Cassie. The space between was obviously meant for Kaira. I bit down my disappointment and sat down beside Ethan. Whatever they were talking about died the moment I sat. Ethan gave me a look. Clearly they were talking about Jonathan’s death.
“Morning,” I said, nodding to the group. Inside, I was screaming at myself. I needed to talk to Kaira. I couldn’t waste any more time here, pretending things were normal. She needed me. I needed her. I had to go. I had to go. Then I looked at Ethan, and he looked at me like he knew what I was thinking and was strongly suggesting I shouldn’t.
They all gave their cordial replies, but it was Ethan who leaned over and looked me in the eyes.
“You doing okay?” he asked. “Looks like you haven’t slept.”
“Insomnia,” I replied. Which was true enough.
He gave me another knowing look, so I switched my attention to my food.
“I’m not crazy,” Cassie muttered, clearly picking up where she’d left off before I’d sat down.
“No one said you were,” Elisa replied. “But it’s just maybe not something to talk about.”
“Like you aren’t all wondering if this is some sort of conspiracy.” It was more an accusation than a question, and Cassie looked at each of us in turn. I focused on my coffee. “Think about it. Two girls kill themselves and then Jonathan bites it. That looks pretty damn suspicious to me. What if he slept with them, and they, like, couldn’t stand it, so they offed themselves? And then he felt guilty and did the same.”
Ethan’s jaw actually dropped, and Elisa stared at Cassie like the girl had sprouted a second head.
“I can’t believe you just said that,” Elisa whispered. “Jane was my friend.”
“And my roommate,” Cassie countered. She looked around, seeking support. She didn’t find any. “I knew her better than anyone else. Not to be a bitch, but it’s true. It doesn’t make sense, but it sure as hell makes more sense than what they’ve fed us.”
“Which was?” Oliver asked, cool and collected as ever.
“Stress. That Jane killed herself due to stress. She wasn’t stressed. She was doing great. Hell, she’d already been accepted to her top choice. What did she have to be stressed about?”
“Was she acting strange before she died?” Ethan asked. I noticed he didn’t say killed herself since, like me, he knew that wasn’t what happened.
Cassie shook her head. “No. But that doesn’t mean something didn’t happen between them.”
“I think you’re grasping for logic in a situation that has none.” Oliver’s words were deep and resonant. His hand clutched Ethan’s atop the table, his long fingers locked tight. “No one can know what someone is thinking, let alone why they’d take their own life. Speculation isn’t helping. It just creates more harmful rumors.”
Cassie didn’t exactly glare at him, but her look was a mix of hurt and angry.
“It could add up. You just don’t want it to,” she said, and then stood and left without another word.
When Cassie was out of earshot, Elisa leaned in on her elbows. “She’s not the only one thinking that,” she said. “I heard some other girls on the way in. They think Jonathan got the girls pregnant, and then guilt got the better of him.”
I thought of the circle on the floor, of the kids fleeing the room. I still had no idea what had gone on in there. No clue what Jonathan had been doing, or if it had been the same situation with Mandy and Jane. Maybe there was a hint of truth to it. The circle and what I’d seen looked ritualistic. Maybe he had been playing a darker part—maybe he’d been forcing the girls into something all along, making their deaths look like suicide. I wouldn’t rule out the pregnancy thing—wasn’t that always how it worked in those cults? Sleep with the leader to gain enlightenment? But I couldn’t see Mandy or Jane falling for that. Not at all.
Which meant I needed to find the kids who were involved. Force Erik and Tina to talk. They’d tell me. After last night, they would have had to know that something was up.
“Speculation’s not the worst of it,” Oliver muttered, staring into his coffee mug.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Kids are already getting pulled from school.”
He glanced around the table at us.
“My mom called this morning,” Oliver continued. “Said she’d heard what had happened. I had to convince her not to withdraw me. Told her it was fine and I was safe and not getting caught up in anything. They think it’s a cult or something.”
“Who left?” I asked. My heart dropped as I glanced behind me, like maybe I’d notice a missing face in the sea of kids.
“I don’t really know,” he replied.
“Tina left,” Elisa whispered. “I saw her on the phone with her mom last night. She was in the lobby and begging them to come get her.”
One down. How many others from that classroom were running away?
I looked to Ethan.
“Any guys?”
Ethan shrugged, but his face was solemn. He clearly knew what I was getting at. If the kids who were there last night went home, I’d have no other alibis and no clue what was going on inside that room. No idea what they were meddling with. But that also meant there would be fewer people to point fingers at me.
I needed to find Erik before he vanished too.
“Is Kaira okay?” I asked.
Ethan shot me a glance, but Elisa actually grinned a little. Like she thought it was cute. My cheeks flushed; of course, she just thought I was crushing on her roommate.
“She’s sick,” Elisa said. “Wouldn’t budge from bed. So I’m going to bring her some tea and a bagel after breakfast. I could bring her a note as well if you’d like.” Her grin widened, and she actually found the humor to wink.
“No, thanks,” I said, busying myself with the pancakes. “Just wanted to make sure.”
Conversation devolved into the usual, but even the talk of classes and homework and recitals felt forced. Maybe it was just me projecting. But everyone seemed stilted, like they couldn’t figure out how to make something that should have been routine seem normal. My eyes kept darting around the cafeteria, waiting for someone to point a finger. Waiting for Kaira to show up. Waiting to see a raven or crow or falcon outside the window.
By nine, none of those things had happened, and the two mugs of coffee I’d downed had done nothing to clear my head or rid the sluggish dread from my veins. I wanted so badly to run to Kaira’s dorm and force her awake. But I would never get past the front desk. And without Elisa up there to answer the phone for Kaira, she was as good as on another planet.
When we stood up to leave for the assembly, I stayed back and put a hand on Elisa’s shoulder. Ethan cast me another look, clearly warning, but Oliver ushered them both away before Ethan could tell me to keep my mouth shut.
“Are you okay?” Elisa whispered. She looked me in the eyes when she said it. There was no option of lying; she could read me like a book. It wasn’t fair that actors got to learn all about body cues.
“Not really,” I replied. “This whole thing . . .” I sighed, tried to hold eye contact like I normally would, because it was a sign of respect. I couldn’t meet her gaze. Not now. “It’s all really fucked up. I had nightmares all night.”
Her eyes tightened.
“I think we’ve all had enough nightmares for one lifetime,” she whispered. “It doesn’t help when your waking life’s no better.”
I nodded.
“You like her, don’t you?” she asked. The words cut through my daze.
“Yeah,” I said. It didn’t make sense; I barely knew her. But I couldn’t stop thinking about her. My pulse raced every time I watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear while painting, or when she laughed at one of Ethan’s jokes. She was a strange mix of nonchalant and poised, like she tried so hard to perfect one image of herself, she didn’t notice all the stray threads poking out. And those were what ensnared me.
“I say this as her best friend,” Elisa said. “She doesn’t need any more pain in her life, okay? She’s dealt with enough. So you better examine every one of your intentions and make sure they’re pure. Because I swear, if you so much as make her sniffle, I will end you.”
There was a fierceness in her voice that actually made me lean back.
My immediate reaction was to say no, of course I wasn’t going to hurt her. There was a bond between Kaira and me that I couldn’t understand, one that laced deeper than attraction or lust or affection. We were bound by something stronger than fate. We were bound by tragedy. By death. I couldn’t inflict any worse pain on her than that.
I opened my mouth to say that she was fine, that I would never hurt her, when another thought gripped me by the throat.
You will kill her, Endbringer. Your promises are naught but lies.
Elisa’s eyebrow raised as I clearly struggled with myself.
“This is the point where you say you’d never hurt her,” she offered.
“I wouldn’t,” I choked. Why did it sound like a question?
“Right.” She looked me up and down. “Convincing. Why did you want to talk to me again?”
“I just . . . I wanted to make sure she was okay.”
“I told you, she’s just sleeping. She’s been stressed and overworked—she deserves a day to rest.”
I glanced around. There was no way to say this without sounding crazy or creepy.
“Could you just . . . could you make sure? I’m worried about her. She said some things to me yesterday.”
Instantly Elisa’s gaze became sharper than a hawk.
“What things? When?”
Begging me to help her as ravens broke from her flesh.
“Nothing specific. I saw her after we got back from dinner. She said she was scared. Because of, you know. Everything. Then she ran off and didn’t answer my texts. I’m worried.”
She nodded. We both knew it wasn’t enough of an explanation. Right now, though, with everything going on, it would work.
“I’ll double-check,” she said.
“And tell her to call me. Please. I really need to talk to her.”
Elisa grinned a little.
“You’re cute, you know that?”
“I—”
“Which is good, because you’re also kind of stupid. You could just hang out with me during open room, you know. Kaira would just happen to be there, but we could be doing homework or something together.”
The idea hadn’t even occurred to me. It felt like a lifeboat.
“You’d do that? For me?”
She shrugged.
“I’m just inviting you to my bedroom. You’re not the first cute guy to get the offer.”
Despite everything, I actually laughed.
For the first time in the last twenty-four hours, it felt like I was getting a break. I just had to make it to the end of the day.
• • •
Despite the casual air of the cafeteria, the theater we crowded into was as somber as a funeral. Our president, Ms. Kenton, took to the stage in all black, and the room went from quiet to deathly in moments. It was eerie, watching her stand there amid the chains and swathes of tattered fabric from the Marat/Sade set. Like she was the ghost of actions past. Here to remind us that we couldn’t run away forever.
She stood there in silence for a few moments. I couldn’t tell if she was gathering her words or pausing for dramatic effect; no one spoke, and she had our full attention. Elisa sat at my side, her hands clutched tight in her lap. Cassie sat to her other side. Ethan and Oliver were somewhere else in the crowd.
“You all know why we are here,” Ms. Kenton finally said. She surveyed the room, and for a moment it almost felt like an accusation. “We are here because last night we lost another member of our family. Mr. Jonathan Almblad, beloved teacher of folklore and myth, has passed away.”
She began pacing back and forth. The fabric hanging around her swayed like a ghost.
“I have already begun hearing the tales and rumors of his death. And in a school this small, such rumors can be devastating. We are not here to aggrandize death; we know the pressures facing you are real, and we have made every effort to ease them, and for you to take comfort in our care. We know there is speculation that Mr. Almblad’s death is linked to the passing of your classmates. Let me be the first to say that we have found no connection between these deaths. And, in the manner of full disclosure, it has been relayed to us that Mr. Almblad died of a heart attack in his office.”
My heart shot to my throat.
She was lying.
I tried seeking out Ethan in the crowd, but I couldn’t see him in the shadows. Elisa caught my glance, her lips poised in a question, and I brought my attention back to Ms. Kenton.
“That is what I have been told to tell you.” She stopped walking. “But that is not the truth, and you know it. There is a murderer within the walls of this school. And we know who he is.”
Her eyes locked on me.
“Christopher Wright,” she called, her words ringing out like executioner’s blows. “We know you were there when Jonathan died. We know you had a hand in his murder. And for that, you face death. Grab him.”
Hands clamped on my wrists. Elisa stared at me, her nails digging into my forearm, and a dancer boy I didn’t know restrained my other wrist. Someone behind me clamped their hands on my shoulders. My heart hammered in my chest as their nails dug into my skin. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be—
“You were born in bloodshed,” Ms. Kenton said. She walked toward me, stepping over the heads of the kids in front of me, her legs stretching as she ascended the rows of seats. In her hand, she gripped an ornate dagger. “And you will end in bloodshed.”
“No, please,” I begged. More hands clamped over my lips. My throat. Lifted my chin, exposing my neck.
Ms. Kenton’s face loomed over me, her head silhouetted in the spotlights like a halo. But it was her eyes that glowed the brightest. Golden. Hawklike.
“Blood is your power, Endbringer. Your curse and your gift. We will make the world run gold with blood.”
She pressed the tip of the dagger to my throat. Metal bit into flesh. I tried to squirm, to break free. This isn’t real. This can’t be real. I’m hallucinating.
“How sure of that are you, Endbringer?” she whispered, her voice hot in my ear. “When reality is yours to bend.”
I didn’t close my eyes. Couldn’t. I saw her smile as she slid the blade into my throat, sliced through my trachea, cut off my breath and blood. I felt warmth spill down my neck, spread over my chest. But I didn’t die. Didn’t feel the pain. I couldn’t breathe around the blade. And I couldn’t die with the falcon in my blood.
“The world is yours,” she said. “Make it weep.” Then she jerked the blade to the side, ripped apart my flesh.
I twitched, flung back.
She was gone. Only Elisa’s hand remained on my arm, and when I looked over, my breath ragged, she was staring at me. Her eyes were wide with confusion. Sweat dripped down my skin, and my pulse was a chaotic, fluttering thing.
Ms. Kenton was still on the stage, still pacing back and forth, talking about community. She wasn’t staring at me like she knew a deadly secret. No one but Elisa was looking. I hadn’t called out. I hadn’t yelled. Sweat continued to drip down my skin. What the fuck was happening to me?
“I’m afraid,” Ms. Kenton continued, “in light of recent events, that we are unable to cancel the school day. I wish I could give you the time needed to mourn, but we simply have no more time to spare. We are canceling the morning classes, but your schedules will have to resume after lunch. Those of you who had Jonathan as an adviser are asked to visit the counselor’s office today to be reassigned. Jonathan’s classes will continue with a substitute: our dear English professor, Mrs. Walsh, will be taking over.”
She sighed. I kept waiting for her to shift, for her sad demeanor to twist into something malevolent. I kept waiting for her to attack, for the rafters to drip blood. What the hell is going on with me? I thought.
“Death is a terrible force, dear students. Do not for one moment believe that our continuation of classes is meant to be a disservice. Jonathan will be greatly missed. We will hold a vigil tonight for those interested in paying their last respects. Please remember that we are here for you when you need us. At any time.”
There were a few closing remarks, but I couldn’t pay attention. Not through the fear that this was all an illusion. Not through the terror that coursed through me: I was going insane. I was going insane. And there was no way to tell if what I’d heard was truth. I was too busy trying to sort out the facts from my hallucination. I knew that Ms. Kenton was lying: Jonathan hadn’t died in his office like she had said. He had died in a classroom in a circle of ink, just like the two girls. Maybe it had been a heart attack, but the location was still off. That meant she was covering something. She knew what was going on. Or she was afraid of us knowing. Unless that was a hallucination as well . . .
When the assembly was finally over, I booked it from the hall and out into the cold morning air. I gulped it down. I paced back and forth in front of the theater, telling myself it would all be okay. I would talk to Kaira, and it would all be okay.
Ethan wandered away from Oliver a few moments later, his hands sunk deep into the pockets of his pea coat, a guarded look on his face.
“Why did she lie?” I asked Ethan the moment he was near. I had to focus on that; otherwise I’d start wondering what was wrong with my brain.
“Shut up,” he whispered. He glanced around, but no one was paying us any attention. The few kids who lingered outside were in small groups, talking or heading out to wherever. The morning was free, and only Ethan and I knew something was amiss. At least beyond the obvious.
Ethan started walking away from the main campus, toward the lake. I followed at his side. When we were safely out of earshot, he started speaking.
“I don’t know what’s going on anymore.”
His words were flat. It was an understatement and we both knew it, but hearing him say it gave me a spark of hope.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Ethan seemed to consider my question for a moment. Like he didn’t fully understand what he meant himself. “I mean yes, she was lying. Maybe not about the heart attack, but definitely about him being in the office. But what does that tell you?”
“That she’s covering something up.”
“Maybe. It also means no one came forward. If any of those students you saw fleeing reported something, she’s keeping it under wraps.”
“Or they didn’t say anything at all.”
“Either way, you might be in the clear. If they reported you, you’d already be in for questioning. And I doubt they’d wait to speak up.”
I couldn’t imagine I would be that lucky.
“It also means . . .” He sighed.
“What?”
“It also means I trust you.”
I stopped walking.
“Why? What changed your mind?”
He shrugged and looked into the woods. The trees were stark and empty, snow lying thick and undisturbed on the ground. I wanted to say it looked beautiful. Instead, it just felt cold and barren.
When he finally answered, his words seemed to get eaten up by the emptiness.
“If they had said the truth in the assembly, that Jonathan died exactly like the others, I might think you had something to do with it. But they’re hiding the truth.” He shook his head like he was trying to ignore his own thoughts. “I don’t know what’s real anymore, Chris. Jonathan died just like the others: no marks, no note, no reason. I don’t think that’s something you could pull off. Whatever this is, it’s—”
“Supernatural.”
He glared at me. “I was going to say ‘unnatural,’ but yeah. I guess that works too. Something is wrong. Maybe they’re keeping things a secret because they’re covering it up or because they don’t honestly have a clue. In any case, I don’t think you killed him. Or the others. And I also believe you about Kaira.”
My heart skipped over.
“What? You believe me?”
“Not about all of it,” he muttered. “But something’s going on. She didn’t respond to my texts. At all. And when I went by her dorm to get her for breakfast, she flat out refused to see me.”
“And that makes you suspicious?”
Me telling him about Kaira being taken over by ravens didn’t ring an alarm, but her not responding to texts did? Even though I was mildly hopeful, it also felt a bit like betrayal. He would always believe her over me. And that’s why you need to get her to tell him what happened.
“Kaira isn’t like that. She doesn’t just push people out. I’ve nursed her back to health before. I’ve been there for her through . . . everything. Something about this just seems wrong.”
“You think she was there last night?”
“Maybe. I don’t buy your story. But there’s too much here for it to be a coincidence. She was healthy yesterday.” He kicked a pile of snow.
“We need to talk to her,” I said.
“I know. But I don’t think even my charms could get us past the RA.”
There was always Elisa. There was always dropping by the room during open hours. But that wasn’t until the evening.
“We could sneak in,” I offered.
“In the middle of the day? While classes are out?”
“What else? We have to try, Ethan. I’m going to go insane if I just sit around, wondering if she’s okay. Especially because we both know she’s not.”
“I know, I know . . .”
My gut twisted with a different thought.
“Ethan . . . what if you’re right? And this is unnatural? What if she’s next?”
He stopped fidgeting and looked at me. His eyes were wide.
“You think she . . .”
“We don’t know what the others felt beforehand. But she’s acting sick. Distanced. And she was there last night.”
“Shit,” he whispered. When he turned, he didn’t just walk back to campus. He ran.