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“I’ve missed you so much,” Rory confesses quietly, and itisa confession, the underlying idea that he should have been stronger than this, not to fade away, starved in a matter of days without our secret touches. “But you shouldn’t be here.”
Finlay raises a dark eyebrow.
“Baxter’s doing her rounds,” Rory explains. “She checks in on me and Danny every single hour. Keeps expecting us to fuck off and join you.” He pauses, observing our bewilderment in dismay. “You’re still acting like you belong in the city, like you can wander wherever you want and fuck as you please. Not in Lochkelvin. Here, everyone’s sent straight to their rooms. By themselves.”
“Why?” I ask, bemused.
“Because you left beneath their noses. They’refurious. I didn’t anticipate this reaction, but she’s going to have words for you.”
“She can fuckin’ try it,” Finlay growls, and Rory gives him a soft, fond look. “You control the school, no’ her.” Rory’s smile is pained, strangely tinged with shame. I don’t understand it. He seems a lot more subdued than normal.
“How’s Danny?” I ask.
Rory shrugs, sitting on the edge of his single bed, his elbows tucked on his thighs. He’s too big, too gangly, for his cramped new bedroom, the walls pressed too close together, Rory stooping so as not to graze the ceiling. He doesn’t even have a separate en suite like me, only a small porcelain sink plumbed into the room’s corner. It manages to resemble a jail cell even more than any of the rooms in the girls’ tower.
“We’ve been meeting up when we can. Not often. We have to skulk around and talk only at dinner or between shelves in the library. Baxter’s got us monitored up to her eyeballs again.”
“Whit’s happened tae the flag ootside?”
Rory’s lips tighten grimly. “I haven’t been allowed out of the castle since you left. What’ve they done?”
“It’s different. The blue bits are black.”
“And the saltire’sgone,” Finlay adds, raging. “The unicorn, tae.”
Rory seems struck by the unicorn comment in particular. “They must have done that today,” he murmurs. He leans down, hunting under his bed, and draws out Benji’s radio. “Baxter’s taken away my books, even my clock. I have no idea what time it is. The only thing I have for entertainment is their propaganda, which I’ve managed to keep hidden from her. All I know is, Antiro islividwith Scotland.” Initially, it’s not his words that Finlay or I notice. It’s the hands holding the radio — bared, red raw, and sliced to ribbons.
“What the fuck?” I breathe, horrified. I drop to my knees in front of him, as though slammed by an unexpected force, and tug back Rory’s shirt sleeves to see a series of deep marks scoring his skin in every direction — thick, angry lines of red. Rory cringes, pulling away from me as if he hadn’t meant to reveal this to us. I stare up at him, lost.
“Ye cannae be daein’ mair voodoo shite?” Finlay snaps, looking outraged. “Because—”
“I’m not,” Rory confirms quietly, and with a sigh he explains, “It’s all Baxter. Baxter and my father.”
At our confused expressions, Rory yanks down his sleeve, deliberately hiding his hands from view. “Baxter’s been telling him about the way I’ve been behaving. So he’s greenlit some additional…punishmentsat Lochkelvin. Y’know,” he adds, a scathing twist to his lips, “to bring back the good old days of traditional school discipline.”
“This can’t be real,” I say, still crouched by Rory’s feet and stroking his thigh. Rory shrugs like he doesn’t want to talk about it, avoiding my eyes like the whole thing is a lesson in humiliation.
“Whit’s she usin’?” Finlay asks, voice tight and eerily controlled. “Belt?”
Rory nods, his gaze slanting off to the side. “Ruler if she’s in a better mood.” He pauses. “She’s rarely in a better mood.” I’ve never seen him like this. He almost looks defeated, and my heart strains with the hurt she must have inflicted in the days we’ve been gone.
“What did you get it for?” I ask.
With a raised eyebrow, Rory says, “Existing?” He pauses, and with a frustrated sigh, mutters, “Sicced the gremlins on Wells again. He was being a goady prick.”
“Ye didnae have tae rise tae him. He’s been dealt wi’.”
“Just reminding the fucker of his place. He’s weak as shit, anyway. His followers have deserted him. I don’t think he’ll mess with us again — and I’ll bet he was only acting out of line becauseyouweren’t there,” Rory adds, shooting a pointed glance at Finlay. “He’s fucking terrified of you.”
Despite everything, a self-satisfied smirk plays at the corner of Finlay’s mouth as if this is the best news he’s heard all week.
“I’m going to change the flag,” Rory declares quietly. “Tonight. I know how to get up there. I can change it, make a statement.”
“And so you get punished again?”
“And so I make a statement again.” He glances down at me, his silver eyes cloudy as he finally takes me in. “I had more detentions than I can count for the whole of last year. A punishment or two, a brief flash of pain and some cuts to my hand, will be worth it for the looks on all their gormless faces.”
Finlay’s shaking his head before Rory finishes speaking. “No. I’m no’ lettin’ ye dae this.”
