Let The Raven Sit

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

LET THE RAVEN SIT

FLINT

Sleeping peacefully at Mythicae is more of a folklore than the creatures living within these foreign stone walls. Aside from hearing Andrew's headboard thumping the wall last night, the night was dying down. No leering monsters or unraveling chaos to occupy me for once. I didn't have another dream of Meyers or she-who-can-go-to-hell. I fell asleep with an ice pack that has thawed by now, leaving my sheets damp to the touch. Tossing the pack in the bin, bunching my sheets up messily, and placing it in the hamper were my worries. I can deal with that, but right now, I need to eat before my stomach withers anymore.

I get dressed and finish my morning routine. I'm always the second to be up after Donnic, followed by Blake and Andrew lastly with his newly found victim. Andrew spent the morning gloating about his newest craze in the bedroom and tried giving me pointers to bed the blue raven. That will never happen. Frankly, I'll think twice before throwing myself to her aid again. Women confuse me with the High Fae disowned princess at the top. Donnic is sulking to himself in his usual manner while Blake is the first to snatch his bag from the living room table.

"I'm going to head out," Blake said, tossing a dark green bag over his shoulders. "Y'all coming?"

I nodded, picking up my bag as well. If I had to guess by Blake's tired expression, two things were keeping him up. The first would be hearing Andrew banging the random chick from Divisions. And second, he spent the majority of his night hitting up my cousin. "I'm starving."

Andrew cocks a devilish grin which results in Donnic leaving to fetch their bags. "I don't see how. After a kick like that, I'd be in the infirmary for months." he sneered. "I'm pretty sure all of us heard your nutsack pop when Verity ripped you apart."

"Fuck off," I grunt, slipping the straps of my bag onto my shoulders. "I'm doing fine, thanks for asking shitbrick."

Blake pats my shoulder as Donnic passes us, being the first one to head for the door. "At least you only have to see Verity in one class," Blake said, trying to reassure me. He failed. "All of us are glad both of you are okay. Andrew seemed to forget you two were surrounded by Aldarars."

I don't bother replying. I know Andrew will pull something else to keep the teasing going. He wraps an arm around my neck, ruffling my hair with his knuckle. "Do tell," he spat. "What does Verity Denik's tit feel like?"

Sweet molasses. I forgot about that.

The whole night is a blur. One moment, I was running with Minnow. Then, I saw black streaks of horrifying beasts trying to rip apart students, staff, and the Farouts who valiantly chased after the predators. Maverd was surrounded as Verity fell to the ground, and I ran to her. The thought of her not making it terrified me. All I wanted to do was hold her, listen to the ragged breaths slow into something calmer, and protect Verity. Like an incompetent fool.

I push Andrew off, tossing his bag into his chest, courtesy of Donnic. "Since you can bed anyone, find out for yourself."

This earned a cackle from Blake and Donnic. Andrew huffed something about trying it as the four of us headed out. The clouds in the dim sky roll lazily with unsettling darkness to them, and I remind myself of Grimm's latest law: walk in pairs, never be alone. I learned my lesson with Ayron.

The walk to Harts wasn't bad. I've been walking my frostbitten ass across campus for months now. A little chilling wind is nothing compared to the random splotches of snowstorms. Getting through the day hearing about Verity hammering my nutsack or grabbing her breast will be humiliating. Not impossible, though.

Blake casts with the flick of his wrist, sending gusting winds to the pathway. The act freed the cobblestone passage of its rich shroud of snow. Though Blake doesn't showcase his abilities often, it's remarkable how effortlessly he wields spells. The lanterns held upright in the ground from steel pools quake with the winds before settling in orange hues. Without the snow creeping up our legs, no one will arrive at Harts with damp slacks. That, in itself, is a gift that I would cherish.

The four of us bolted for the eatery once we saw the livelihood of students treading through the snow. Slipping through Hart's grand entrance, we made our way to the serving line of chiefs and servants. And as usual, the chiefs are testy with irritable exchanges. Sasha and Piper usually join us to get their plates, but neither of them is in sight. Either running late or ahead. Knowing the girls, it was obviously the second.

The chief grunts in my presence and offers a mediocre arrangement of soggy milk-white eggs, depleted sausage links, and dry biscuits. My stomach knots at the sight, and I sulk for the juice bar. I loathe breakfast entirely in Mythicae. I'd do anything to be home with Meyers, enjoying his infamous microwaved waffles and homemade breakfast sandwiches. Funny how the things in Amherst I complained about or disregarded are the experiences I miss the most. I make a mental note to ask Sasha if I have any letters from Meyers or if he's too busy, I can send him one.

I follow behind my roommates as they make their way through the thicket of students and staff. The cafe is louder than usual, with plates clinking against its drying rack or the scuffle of brisk heels heading to receive a plate. My ears ring from an obnoxious thud and I avert my eyes forward from the noise of a fork falling off a table. My days spent at this place keep getting weirder by the day. Hour, even.

I don't question my roommates when they join Sasha and Piper at the back of the cafe. Four maroon cushioned stools are placed on two opposing sides of the extended table, with polyester cream cloth spread evenly down the middle. Knowing Andrew, he's bound to stain it to oblivion, using the material as his personal napkin. Blake sat across from Sasha, asking if she slept well, to which she lied with a feverish nod. Piper and Sasha are sitting beside each other as the Devonni twins occupy the two seats in front of the blonde beaut. The sound of my tray settling onto the smooth surface makes my mind ache from its scruff. If I hadn't noticed something strange resting at Sasha's side, the profound heightened senses would have annoyed me..

My gaze falls on someone new sitting among us with a book floating in midair. The object shields the Mythical's face from my view, but I salivate at the sight of their plate. A perfectly untouched arrangement of crisp bacon, a stack of pancakes oozing in undisturbed maple syrup, and fruit. Vibrant ruby red strawberries, diced bananas, and powdered sugar sprinkled on the buttery soft delights. No one at the table seems to question the newcomer but rather indulge in their own conversation or food. I need to learn how to order digestible food.

Sasha occupies herself in a flirtatious chat across from Blake while Piper ignores Andrew's alluding entirely. Donnic pushes bruised green grapes off his plate before looking down at the table at me. As if he could feel my gaze. He offers a bemused grin before clearing his throat to capture everyone's attention. "So, Sasha." Donnic said, stabbing a gruesomely undercooked fried egg. "Introduce us to your friend."

Sasha blinks dumbfoundedly, falling from her conversation before peering at the face behind the book. Piper's face beams with delight and my stomach knots at the joy plastered on her face. It was obvious who was sitting behind the book and across from me. "Har-har, Donnic." Sasha snips back, using her hand to lower the book. "Verity, say hello to everyone."

For fucks sake, I can't catch a break in this hellhole.

Light golden hues fizzle as the book lowers from Verity's face, and I freeze at the sight. Her hair is even, shaped to fit the frame of her face with trimmed bangs sweeping across her brows. She looks different, more feminine. Verity closes the book gently, turning its contents away from my eyes before giving Donnic the coldest smile I've ever witnessed. "Good morning."

Piper's smile falters into something timid as Donnic bit back a snarl. Andrew winks at Pip and decides this morning should be pure chaos. "I like the newdo, Ve. Really brings out your eyes. You should thank Flint for…"

Whatever strew of words Andrew has conjured are diluted and disregarded. Verity's attention turns to me lazily, drinking in detail of my state. A warm smile grows on her, complimenting the constellation of light freckles at the bridge of her nose. "Morning, Flame-"

Before anyone can correct her, I quip. If her game is to piss me off, she'll need to be creative at least. "Flint."

"Hope you're quick to think in training as you are on the ground," Verity said with the slightest snark, slicing her meal into small bites. "Today's going to be hell for you."

Maybe I should say something back to piss her off, but I don't. Instead, I find myself fixated on the ravenous terror. She didn't even try to hold back her animosity in front of everyone. "With you?" I sneer, picking up the biscuit from my tray. "Impossible. "

Donnic turns a burning gaze to Verity, who busies herself with a swift bite. She looks annoyed, irked by my response. Good. But this time, Blake said bitterly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The table lingers thickly in pressing shadows, inky dark ribbons filled with trimmering light spooled inside the thread of magic. Verity's shoulders are tense at the sudden hospitality. Pondering footsteps behind me caused the six of us to turn our attention to the voice that follows. She was never intimidated or angered by Blake. "Good Morning," Minnow says sweetly, "I just wanted to check on our two heroes."

Minnow rests a palm on my shoulder and I could've sworn Verity's glare was something covetous. "We're good, right Ve?"

"Perfect." The word fell from Verity's lips smoothly laced with venom.

Minnow exclaims in a falsified tune of joy, complementing Verity's hair. Even going so far as to press herself on my back as I face Verity. The magic slithers back to its rightful owner, dancing around her fingertips that forcefully jab another slice of buttery delight. Minnow turns her attention to Sasha whose expression spoils into a display of disgust.

It's been hours since I've eaten, but the tray before me is a slipped biohazard. Verity glances up from her meal. For a moment, I thought she would say something, or rather slip a subtle taunt, to me. But she scrunches her nose at the sight of Mythicae's complimentary meal before taking another bite of her own. A hand slithers at Verity's side, slipping parchment below the table and I tense at the sound of Verity's nails snatching the thin content. A low snarl, more animalistic than human, slipped from me at the sight of Bellwether at her side.

"Relax, plaything," Bellwether said quietly. He didn't linger there for long but rather spoke so softly- so quietly, that I barely heard him whisper. "Don't say I never did anything."

As Bellwether walked away, he didn't bother hiding the sliver of flesh mangled at his absent socket; a tiny maroon hand sprouting from Verity's attack. I shouldn't stare at the two but I do. Verity tries to hide the smile her lips formed, avoiding my gaze or Bellwether's retreating steps. But she looks grateful with her head down as if Bellwether gave her hope. She takes another bite and my ears twitch at the sound of parchment crinkle while Verity slips it into a handbag. The more I try to unravel those around me, I'm left with a multitude of questions and lies instead of answers. There's no way those two are working together. How does one go from slashing each other to sneaking notes? Deranged, forgiving mythicals I suppose.

No one at the table noticed or blinked at the brief interaction. But the pit grows in my stomach. Wherever Minnow and Bellwether are, Wrath is lurking in the shadows. I'd like to start the day without a lingering asshat or pompous idiot eager to rip my head off. Maybe Sasha sensed the viscosity at the table or entirely loathed Minnow for Verity's benefit because she sent the girl away. Excusing us by some ridiculous justification of classes or something along that line. I could only pick up a few of the words she said in a foreign tongue.

Piper releases a sigh of relief like she was afraid a fight would break out at any moment. But it was Verity who leaned against the table to snatch everyone's attention. "Sasha," she quips. "Are you aware of your cousin's measurements?"

Without questioning her friend, Sasha nods. Andrew straightens himself with a wicked grin. It doesn't take anyone with two brain cells to know what he's about to imply.

Shit, shit. Andrew's going to-

Green sparks fly across the table as Andrew falls backward from his seat when Verity's book slams into his head. Donnic laughs at his brother's downfall, forgetting it was Verity who flung the book, to begin with. Andrew groans, snatching the leathery spine from his nose. "You bi-"

His lips snap shut, and Verity motions her hand to settle Andrew, repositioning him back to his seat. Like he was a puppet that weighed nothing to her. "Read for once and let the grown-ups speak, Devonni."

Andrew's head doesn't move. He looks paralyzed as the book opens itself with flying pages until it satisfies Verity with its placement.

Blake turns to the blue raven beaut, snarling at her. "You can't just control people!" Donnic chimes in humor at the supposed torture his brother had to endure.

Verity rolls her eyes, looking rather bored of the Captain. "We all know he has two heads and only bothers using one. It's well justified."

Blake continued, "What did you mean earlier? You plan on torturing Flint with some weird-"

Verity holds her hand up, silencing him entirely. "Oh, no," she says with a bitter smile. "You've misunderstood my implication. Every student struggles on their first day in the Endurance chamber."

Blake's sepia color pales, but she continues. "Today is Flint's first day as my apprentice. I've chosen to introduce him to Casts of Endurance."

This time, it was Piper who spoke, and the fear in her voice made me want to crumble. "You can't do that! That's a death wish-"

Verity gives her friend an apologetic look. I'd almost believe it was genuine if she wasn't referring to me. "He proved himself last night, didn't he? To be a hybrid and dismember an aldarar, which he's never encountered before, is rather impressive."

Did… Did Verity Denik just compliment me?

The five of us, excluding Andrew, gawk at Verity. For once, Donnic doesn't look annoyed or bored but rather interested. I didn't think it was possible for Verity to acknowledge that I genuinely tried to help her.

Verity rises, picking up a slender bag while she casts her meal to be packed neatly. It still amazes me how quietly she performs her spells. Or the fact she can perform multiple casts, effortlessly. "Could you write his dimensions for me, Sash? I doubt he'd fit Maverd's attire."

Sasha smiles as if she placed me in the best care this shithole had to offer. "I'll have it for you at the Library."

Verity strides over the table, placing her hand on my shoulder. "Eat a full meal," she said a little too eagerly. "You'll need your strength."

I doubt I'd have a bite this morning, but surely, the options at lunch would be better. She dismisses herself before anyone could question her further. Slipping through the double doors while snapping her fingers. Andrew gasps, reminding us he was under a cast. "They're doing it." Piper's face stills, but the grin on Sasha is truly haunting. "Right in front of everyone." I shouldn't expect much from Andrew, but I never thought I'd witness him spewing excitement over a book to himself, others, or his twin. Andrew shoves the book in his brother's face, practically bouncing in his seat. I wonder what kind of restraint Verity had on him to keep him still for so long. "They're doing it in a book!"

Sasha straightens herself, ignoring the roar of laughter from Blake and leaning closer for me to hear her. Soon after, Donnic and Piper join in the laughter. They taunt Andrew, who clutches the book affectionately to his chest, for his possible newfound addiction. Sasha, however, scrutinizes me. Examining my movements, picking apart my expressions before she offers a sly grin. "Are they?"

I don't need her to clarify. The thought alone is repulsive, impossible, and the only true death wish I would ever be stupid enough to accept. "No. "