I’ve rarely heard my sister curse, and I don’t like it. I hate that it’s because of me that she’s doing it. That loving me requires this hardened version of her.
“For Mother’s sake!” Harrison snarls. “I’m trying to protect you, Margot.”
“The only person I need protection from is you,” she says. She’s crying again, and it’s hard not to feel like I’m at fault.
“Are you okay?” Elliot asks.
He’s standing right in front of me. Beautiful and calm and far kinder than he has any reason being.
His best friend is a monster. His mother isn’t much better.
But Elliot…
“Secora,” he says. His voice is as soft as a new blanket, as melodic as a songbird. “Are you okay?”
I can’t look at him. I can’t speak a single word.
It takes everything I have to force a nod.
Please don’t look at me, I want to say.Don’t see what he sees. What everyone does.
“Time to leave, children!” a woman calls.
It isn’t Mrs. Raekes but Virginia. She’s an augur, one of the most powerful types of witches in the Echo. There aren’t many of them, and they all share an eerie home on the main square. They travel around the Day Realm, identifying different types of magic and scouting witches with promising potential.
And sometimes, like twelve years ago, augurs deem particularly dangerous witches as Dark Ones. It’s a label I’ll never escape and one I’ll detest until the day I die. Still, I can’t help but like Virginia. She’s one of the few adults who shows me kindness. Just yesterday, she chased off a boy who was making fun of my black clothes.
Now, Virginia stands at the opening of the alleyway, hands planted on her hips. She’s frowning, eyes flicking between all of us. Though a part of me hopes she’ll punish Harrison, that’s foolish thinking. His mama is an augur, like her, which makes him untouchable.
“The trolley is here,” Virginia says. “Best not to keep it waiting.”
I should be hurt that she doesn’t ask what’s going on, that she clearly doesn’t care. Right now, I’m too distracted by the gentle press of Elliot’s hand on my wrist. The way he’s staring at me with soft, unreadable emotion. It’s too lovely an expression to be wasted on me.
Remembering myself, I pull my hand away and lower my eyes.
“C’mon,” Harrison says. He playfully slaps Elliot’s shoulder as he heads for Virginia. Torment, temporarily forgotten.
Margot tugs me along moments later, rushing through a surplus of apologies, promising Harrison’s cruelty won’t go unpunished. I’m barely listening. It’s taking every ounce of self-control not to look back at Elliot.
The memory ends,and I come back to my bedroom. The Initia Stone is still on my lap, the ingredients in their careful line, but the smoke has receded. Now, the green memory thrashes overthe stone, threatening to fall onto my blankets. I pinch it between my fingers, glaring as I return it to its jar.
Once I’ve put the Initia Stone and the collection of ingredients back on my nightstand, I grab the waiting vial of Dismemrate. It’s dull red and gelatinous, a powerful elixir made of human blood, ghoul’s teeth, and raw magic. Enough for only a swallow, Dismemrate is an expensive, difficult spell.
It’s also the fastest way to wipe my memory. It’ll take the last thirty minutes, give or take. Soon enough, I won’t remember the Autumnal Festival or the feeling of Harrison’s hand on my throat.
I take the Dismemrate in one swallow. It’s foul and bitter, and the only thing that will clear my palate is green tea. Before I make my way to the kitchen though, I scrawl notes on a scrap of parchment. I include anything and everything I knew about Ochre Village and the augur in that memory.
By the time I finish, abandoning the parchment on my nightstand and moving into the kitchen, the memory is all but gone. Ochre Village and Virginia, Harrison and Margot, Elliot and his gentle touch…they all disappear. I chug giant gulps of green tea, letting the dull flavor burn any taste of Dismemrate from my tongue.
Once I’m done, I lean against the kitchen and breathe deep.
Finally, there is nothing but the present, where no one knows the truth of my past.
Not even me.
2
THE LIKES OF YOU
