Page 29 of The Wicker King

“When did you figure this out?”

Jack smirked. “Well, I’m reasonably certain the pitch out there is a marketplace. It was really fucking distracting with all the stalls and people popping up and phasing out. One of the goalposts was a fountain for at least half the game.” Jack shook his head.

“Wow. I don’t even know what to say…” August was horrified. He’d had no idea it was that bad already. “Well, I gave the poem to the twins. They’re helping us. Maybe they can figure out—”

“What?! Why?”

August rolled his eyes. “I’ll explain later. Get dressed and meet me at the toy factory around six o’clock. Your teammates are starting to stare.”

SICK TRICK

Jack pulled into the toy factory employee parking lot and turned off his engine. “Why did you give the poem to the twins?” Jack demanded through the window. He didn’t sound happy.

August slid into the passenger’s seat. “Peter noticed something going on with you months ago and he came to me about it. Roger found out by default. Their mom is a psychologist. I couldn’t do anything about it. They figured it out, so now they’re involved. They promised not to tell anyone if we don’t hurt anyone or don’t get hurt ourselves…” August trailed off as Jack narrowed his eyes.

“What? I can’t do anything about it now,” August continued. “We’re deadlocked with them right now. Our actions dictate their response. The twins are methodical like that.… Though, your conjecture is a good advancement for us. Honestly, the quicker we fix this, the better.”

“Fix this?” Jack asked, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. “Is that why I’m supposed to meet you here”

“We have to test the limits of your sight and make a map so we can navigate the city in relation to our town. I figured here would be as good a starting place as any…”

Jack was silent awhile, staring through the windshield. “I’m going to do this by myself. I don’t need you for this anymore,” he said quietly.

“No! You can’t just—we’ve gotten so far already. Don’t cut me out, Jack. Please.”

“Get out of my car.”

“No!”

“Get the fuck out of my car!” Jack shouted.

August slammed the door hard behind him. He didn’t look back as Jack tore out of the parking lot and sped off into the night.

COMMUNION

August’s legs pulled him from the town to the heart of the woods. It was over a mile away. The wind whipped against his face, numbing his cheeks and stinging his eyes. He gathered branches, ripping them from trees and pulling them from the forest floor, ignoring the tug and scrape of the bark on his hands. He worked mindlessly, robotically. Bending and standing and dropping and bending and standing and dropping.

When the brush reached the swell of his thighs, he set it ablaze. The flames were as tall as he was.

August collapsed against a tree and slid to the ground, his feet swollen in his shoes, palms bleeding and dirty. He lay there like a dead thing. Eyes wide and glassy, staring into the flames.

It burned deep into the night.

August waited until the last ember sank into black. Then he climbed slowly to his feet, knelt by the charred remains, and sank his fingers into the ash.

RAW

This “world” wasn’t real. But it was real for Jack, so that made it real for him. This was a decision. August was choosing this. He wasn’t Alice falling unaware down the rabbit hole—that was Jack.

August?

He’d seen Jack fall and sprinted toward the pit; August had leaped off the edge and dove headlong into the darkness behind him. He would pull them both out of the deep with his bare hands.

It was the debt. The river. It was his religion now.

And such a thing was worth more than the mountains and the seas.

REMUS