Page 48 of The Wicker King

August sank to his knees before him. His fists were still tight and angry, ready on his thighs. He gritted his teeth, and again, he waited.

A hand passed over his face, slicing through his hair for a bit, then ran past his ear to cup his jaw. August couldn’t remember when he’d closed his eyes, but the dark was deep and clear and sharp.

“Well done.”

It echoed in his bones like it had been spoken by giants, spoken by gods. Nothing could replace the glory of the Wicker King’s favor—the peace of returning from defending his honor. The phrases that ran through his mind were archaic and ridiculous and urgent and more real than anything he’d ever known.

August tilted his head to brush his lips against his king’s hand, reaffirming his loyalty. The rage was gone now. It had served its purpose.

“Look at you.”

August opened his eyes and it was just Jack again, a boy without his crown. Staring down at him in something like wonder and something like fear.

PILLOW

August’s phone buzzed off the nightstand and fell to the floor. He slid off the bed and reached around blindly to pick it up. It was a text from Roger. August sighed loudly and flopped over, nearly elbowing Jack in the face.

my mom is back from Prague. you should come by and see her

did u tell her?

He sent it quickly and rubbed his eyes. The prospect was sobering.

“What are you doing? Why is it so bright?” Jack complained tiredly, burrowing closer to the wall.

“Roger’s texting me. He wants me to meet their mom so I can talk to her about you.”

no. I didn’t. I told you I wouldn’t but you should still come anyway. you haven’t been looking so great lately. you shouldn’t have to deal with this by yourself

Jack turned over to watch what was going on.

dnt worry abt me, roger

“Roger’s worried about me,” August whispered.

Jack smiled sleepily. “He’s nicer than he seems.”

“Yeah.”

just think about it

noted. Thnx

YOU’LL NEVER KNOW, DEAR

Rina sat up suddenly. “I made you something.” She dashed into the kitchen, turned off the kettle quick, then ducked into her bedroom. August got up and began pouring their tea into mugs. He took one in each hand and settled down by the couch.

She scampered into the room with one hand behind her back. “Close your eyes.”

He did.

Rina took their mugs from him and placed them neatly on the floor. Then she straddled him and made a place for herself on his lap. He put his hands on her hips and opened his eyes. She pressed a CD hard against the side of his face.

“I didn’t say you could open them yet! You’re terrible at following instructions, August. Ugh. Anyway. Don’t laugh, but I made you a mixtape.”

August kissed her knuckles, kissed her forehead, kissed her cheek, then kissed her mouth, rubbing his nose against hers, grinning. He plucked the CD from her hands and tossed it across the room toward his backpack.

“Thank you.”