Maybe Fate: A Novel (New Adult Paranormal Romance) (21 page)

Is
he really a slave like Ethlyn claimed? Both of them, him and
Nethiun, forced to follow orders about stalking me where I go,
seeing what I do.

It
brought back to me the sadness that had been in Ethlyn's face when
he explained it. To be forced to obey someone, it was an awful
concept.

Great,
now I'm feeling bad for the guy who tried to kill me.

He
said he would have saved me. I'd really like to believe that, but
there's no way I could verify it. I also don't know how comforting
it is to think I was being used as a pawn to draw out Nethiun.

Is
Ethlyn being honest with me? He thinks he's on my side, or at least,
that Nethiun is more dangerous somehow.

Sighing,
I stared down at my notes. The puzzle was getting a little clearer,
but every new bit made things seem... bigger. More questions, and
answers I didn't often like.

If
Nethiun is serving this Queen, Canendore, that leaves Ethlyn to
follow one of these last two.

Seeing
the names again, I prayed it was the Duke of Creation. The other
option, well...

Corpse
King sounds horrifying, ugh.

Looking
up at the sky, still eyeing the awful turmoil of dirty sink water, I
closed my eyes against the breeze.
Two
twaelin, both following me around, all because the people above them
want them to. That is the reason, right?
Thinking
about how Ethlyn had tried to convince me to date him made me blush.

My
world had gotten very weird.

Hopping
off the wall, I headed into the bakery across the way. Even with all
the insanity disrupting my life, I could still give myself some
normalcy.

Inside
the building, I was greeted with a wonderful warmth. More than that,
though, I found myself squishing between large groups of people. The
entire bakery was packed.

Why
is it so busy?

Struggling
towards the counter, I spotted Josef with his arms moving rapidly.
He was talking to several other workers, pointing like the commander
of a ship.

Watching
people load up boxes, then roll them out the door, I decided it was
a bad time.

With
my stomach gnawing at itself, I started to turn away.

“
Gale!”
Josef shouted, making me freeze up under the sudden attention. When
Josef yelled, everything stopped; his bellow was like a siren.

Blushing
to my neck, I glanced back to spot him waving at me. “Stay
there, one second!”

Too
embarrassed to do much else, I stuck my hands deep in my jacket
sleeves and waited. I'd expected Josef to come my way, but instead,
he handed a paper bag to one of the many workers and pointed them to
me.

Meeting
my eye for a moment, Josef flashed a giant grin.

Blinking,
I turned my attention to the young man who hurried over. “Here,”
he said, smiling politely but looking exhausted, “this is for
you, apparently.”

Taking
the bag, peering in at the familiar bread, I nodded. “Right,
thanks.” He started to head back through the throngs, so I
lifted my voice quickly. “Hold on a second, actually. Uh,
what... what is all this, what's going on exactly?”

Seeming
to think I was kidding, he lifted his eyebrows in disbelief. “You
don't know? Aren't you a student here?”

“
Ah,
yes, but I mean...”

Gesturing
at the boxes that were being stuffed and stacked, he smoothed his
dubious squint. “The Fall Festival is tonight, Josef is
getting all the food for his stall ready to take down there now.”

Understanding
flooded me, to the point of making me laugh. “Oh. He did
mention that, now that I think about it. Alright, thanks.”

Giving
me one more quick nod, the worker squeezed back into the fray.

Looking
at the counter, I caught Josef's eye and gave a quick wave.
'Thanks,' I mouthed at him, enjoying how he beamed in response.

Reluctantly
heading back into the bleak day, my boots carried me on their
well-known trek to the park.

****

The
sparrows were having a party around my ankles, content to scarf down
bits of bread while I contently chewed on my own.

With
everything as overcast as it was, enjoying the sunset wasn't
possible. That was fine, though. I was happy to just have a moment
to myself, a moment that was still steeped in the bland reality of a
simple act of habit.

Blandness
isn't so bad... not really.

Glancing
to the side, I expected to see Nethiun. I'd been looking ever since
I'd sat at the bench, but still, the twaelin hadn't showed himself.

It
was an unsettling realization, but I was starting to notice his lack
of presence. Dusting crumbs off my jeans, my mind wandered to the
last thing he had said to me, how we had discussed that he was going
to go report to the person above him.

His
Mistress,
I thought bitterly.
The
person behind the curtain who's telling him what to do. Would she
ask him to do something he wouldn't agree with? Ethlyn said it
wouldn't matter, that he'd go along with whatever. But then, I think
Ethlyn might do the same. It isn't like he's in a different
position... is he?

Ethlyn,
why are you so sure your Master means me no harm, but Nethiun's
does?

I
haven't seen Nethiun in a bit, I wonder if he's alright. Who am I
kidding, of course he is. I'm worrying about the wrong person here,
he's the one who's immortal or whatever.

Looking
down, I studied a small bird as it hopped around my boots. It
fluttered its feathers, cocked its head, then pecked at a chunk of
crust.

The
crunching of boots on dry leaves caught my ear. Lifting my eyes, I
twisted on the bench and spotted the familiar, tall vision of my
English teacher.

“
Mr.
Birch,” I blurted, surprised by his appearance. His smile made
the corners of his eyes crinkle, reminding me that even with his
kind face, he had the dignity of age.
How
old is he, anyway? You'd think, having a big house and a nice career
here, he'd have to be at least in his late thirties.

Closing
the gap between us, his long tan coat swishing, he nodded down at
me. “Please, remember to just call me Wallace outside of
class. We don't need formalities.”

Casually
as I could, I set the empty bag on the bench beside me. I had a
suspicion about why he had come to find me. “Listen, uh,
Wallace. I'm so sorry about earlier, the whole running out of class
thing. I just—just had some stuff to go handle.”

His
eyes warmed with understanding, which only made me feel worse. “It's
fine, Gale. I just wanted to check on you, make sure you were
alright.”

Forcing
a soft laugh, I pushed my hair from my neck. “Yeah, I'm
perfectly fine.”
Just
being stalked by creatures who can jump around through god damn
reality, no big.

Glancing
down at the birds surrounding me, he let a curious look bloom. I
expected him to ask about what I was doing, but he surprised me. “I
wanted to know if that book I let you borrow has been useful.”

“
Oh!”
Lifting my eyebrows, I dug a hand into my backpack. “It's been
great. Here, I thought you might want it back, so...” Digging
the heavy black tome from my bag, I held it out to him.

Mr.
Birch hesitated, like he was waiting for something. Then, with
casual grace, he reached out with long fingers and gripped the book.

Instantly,
I felt a familiar rush of pins and needles running around in my gut.
The electric sensation made my tongue taste like I'd been eating
pennies.

For
a moment, I thought Nethiun was about to appear. It was a good
moment, when compared instead to the actual truth.

My
eyes widened, slow and steady, as I gaped at the relaxed shape of my
teacher's smile. In that awful, slow moment of time, I knew the
truth.

Mr.
Birch. He's a twaelin after all.

Releasing
the book, I jumped from the bench with every muscle screaming at me
to run. Around me, the birds became a tornado that flew away,
startled by my movement. I wished I could do the same, escape just
as easily.

This
was fear. Panic. It drove me to want to flee the scene without a
care for anything else.

My
boot crunched down on something, the sound grating in my skull.
Baffled, too full of adrenaline to think straight, I looked down.

A
single sparrow, unable to get away in time during my abrupt
movement, was broken on the ground. After everything else, seeing
I'd accidentally killed one of the birds that had kept me company
since school had began, it was too much. My energy was flat-lining,
despair taking over.

Running
is pointless, I should know by now.

Lifting
my head, skull shaking from how tense my eyeballs felt, I looked on
Mr. Birch with defeat. “You're one of them,” I
whispered.

He
didn't move, but even so, I could
feel
the energy swaying around him. “So you really can sense us.
Astounding.”

“
I—what—how...”
My lips felt like they would crack, my tongue limp in my mouth. “I
don't... who
are
you?”

He's
one of them. One of them! Oh God.

But
which?

His
attention shifted away from me, down to the book he held in his
hand. I followed him, staring at it, trying to remind myself to
breathe. It was true, I was sensing him like I had both Nethiun and
Ethlyn, yet he felt
different
.

It
was claustrophobic, an all encompassing feeling like a blanket of
itching steel wool was about to fold around me. I knew—inherently,
I knew—that whoever he was, he was more powerful than any of
the twaelin I'd met so far.

“
Who
am I?” he asked, studying the cover of the book like the
answer was there, as if he himself had forgotten his own name. “I
wondered how much you would discover on your own, how much I might
progress things by handing this to you.”

Leveling
his eyes on me, his tone fell lower. “I'm wondering now if I
should have simply told you, that day in the library.”

I
have a guess on who he is. I know, I know and I refuse to say it. I
won't... I can't make it real.

Taking
a step back on numb legs, I looked down at the dead sparrow once
more. He, too, peered at the bird.

“
Go
on,” he coaxed me. “Tell me who you think I am.”