Page 25 of The Wicker King

“Did you guys do buddy tattoos? Does he have one, too?” Gordie pried, pulling at August’s collar. He smacked her hand away and scowled.

“I just wanted it and Jack was there so he did it for me. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s just seems kind of unsanitary. And reckless,” Alex said, pointing her plastic spork at August accusatorily.

“Uncharacteristically reckless.” Gordie narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“He’s a drug dealer, Gordie. I’m sure that recklessness is a part of the job description. And stop bothering him before he gets so red his face bursts into flames.”

They laughed as August silently thanked all the gods listening for Alex.

“Do you think Jack would do me one, too?” Gordie asked. “I tried to get one done at a shop, but I’m not eighteen yet so they kicked me out…”

August thought about Gordie lying under Jack. Imagined her replicating that tense silence that sometimes made his heart race if he thought about it for too long. He didn’t like it.

“No. He wouldn’t.”

GLASS SHOES

Carrie-Anne had dragged Jack away to go shopping for matching Homecoming crap, so August found himself alone on a Saturday. He took the bus out to the end of the city to visit Rina alone. She looked surprised when she opened the door, but let him in anyway.

“Are you busy?”

“No,” she said, tying her hair up in a sloppy bun on the top of her head. “I was just doing some reading.”

“What kind?” August took off his shoes, placed them neatly by the door, and sprawled across her couch.

“Fairy tales.”

August grinned. “You still read fairy tales?”

“Every part of the human condition is packaged neatly in fairy tales. Every bit of culture that makes us who we are.” She tutted at him. “When I was a girl, such things were regarded with respect.”

“I’ve always had trouble with that,” he replied dryly.

Rina scoffed and settled down on the floor. “I know. But one day you’ll learn it. All virtues not granted at birth are taught to you by life, one way or another. My mother told me that.”

“Your mother sounds wonderful,” August said, closing his eyes.

“She was.”

THE KINGDOM

Jack lay on his back on Rina’s carpet. She had gone to work hours ago, but she didn’t mind if they stayed. Jack brushed his hand lazily against the fibers like he was stroking the edges of a current. August smoked next to him and stared out the window. He flicked his lighter on and off.

“Can you describe it to me?” August said suddenly. “I want to hear all of it. I want to hear what I look like. What I’m wearing.”

Jack closed his eyes. “Sometimes it changes. At first, you were wearing a mask. This big, feathered thing made of bone and gold with a long, pointed nose like a hawk. It was scary at first, but I got used to it. After the time that we fought at the river, you don’t wear it anymore—I just see you. Sometimes you’re in regular clothes and sometimes, like now, you’re wearing leather armor and boots. It suits you.”

August ran a hand down his sweater.

“Your hair is wilder, too. Not plastered down and combed like you like it.” Jack reached out and August handed him his cigarette. He blew the smoke up.

“Back near town there are silver birds that are as bold as pigeons. They get really close to us sometimes. There are things like cows, but they have an extra set of horns and their legs are too long. Everyone is very tall. The houses in the city are made of sticks and mud and reinforced with wood and gold. The people here don’t seem to think gold is rare, because it’s all over everything. Right now we’re not by all the buildings, though. We’re on a hill near a burned and rotting forest. It’s very dark and I can barely see either sun through the gloom or fog or whatever.” Jack took another drag and handed the cigarette back with a grimace. “It’s terrifying.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”