Fallen thorns, p.30
Fallen Thorns, page 30
It was met with an influx of comments from the band’s growing fanbase, wishing Ben a speedy recovery, and checking in on Casper too since their relationship had very much been public knowledge these last few years.
That evening, Marianne led us all to the top of a hill to a house she owned; it had an upstairs balcony and an uninterrupted view of a large portion of the city. A yearly tradition, I was quick to learn.
I sat, bulked out in layers, huddled between Rani and Mars with hot chocolate in our mugs. We gazed out over to the blues and golds of the city, to the stone turrets and slate roofs. To the city I now called home: the city buried in invisible blood.
Mars shifted beside me and moved their legs into a more comfortable position. To my right, Rani linked her arm with Carmen’s.
Marianne stood with her arms perched over the side of the balcony wall. She watched over her city as a ruler would. A protector; her face emotionless.
Five minutes to midnight I heard footsteps in the doorway behind me. I didn’t turn, no one did, but we all knew he stood there, Casper — his presence reflected in the balcony glass. He stood in silence, eyes a river of pain.
I felt Mars’ arm link under mine, and I let them, tucking our arms warmly to my side.
We all looked up as the cathedral clock chimed and the first fireworks shot into the sky.
Red, gold, green. A cacophony of sound and colour. Someone to the house to our left set off their own fireworks while someone in the house to our right cheered. I felt the presence of both my friends by my sides. So alive.
The last firework was a bittersweet red and Mars turned to me, planting a swift kiss to my shoulder.
“Happy new year, Arlo.”
When I turned around, Casper was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
We didn’t acknowledge the dawn of a new year the way everyone else would have. We didn’t wait for miracles or new beginnings.
A solemn shadow hung over The Thorns, even those few who deemed Ben’s disappearance as insignificant. Eventually, they came crawling back in sympathy.
My headache dampened, and I felt clearer than I had in weeks. I sat on my bed, staring at the cold, hard wall. Mars knocked then waltzed in.
“How are you this morning?” they asked, joining my side. They’d asked me the same question every morning since they freed me. Each day my response had been the same: ‘Okay, but could be a lot worse.’
Today, however, I smiled at them and tapped my temple, “Great,” I said. Over the weeks and months, I had crafted a new definition for that word, but it still held the same meaning, I just reevaluated how it stood against everything I now experienced.
“Casper came back this morning,” they said, looking down at their nails.
“He did? How is he?”
“Great,” they echoed back my own words, looking up at me with a sarcastic brow.
I leaned back. “Sorry.”
“Aren’t we all.”
“What is he going to do?”
“He’ll never give up, we all know that. There is only so much searching one can do without driving themselves mad.”
I thought about Casper traipsing the streets every hour of the day for a whole week. ‘I’ll never stop.’
Flopping back onto my bed, I fixed my eyes to the cracks in the ceiling. “Do you think she will give up?”
“Not give up.” Mars slid down the mattress so that they mirrored my position; hands pressed against their abdomen. “But I believe she will get impatient. Probably give us a clue to try and mock us.”
Lucy’s unnatural green hair flashed in my mind and my neck tingled, right where she had bitten me. I instinctively rose my hand to scratch the area and Mars looked to me as if my thoughts had been projected out above us.
“It’s maddened us all, how easily she has gotten away with everything. Right when we were meant to protect everyone.”
I was about to make the ‘we’re only human’ excuse, though I halted in understanding that that phrase could no longer stand.
Instead, I sighed and stared straight ahead. “Do you think he is still alive?”
A pause.
“I do.”
I wasn’t sure which response I expected, but maybe every other answer would have sparked the same reaction.
“Because she would love nothing more than to inform us otherwise.”
I thought back to my date, which seemed to be many moons ago now, and my growing discomfort I felt as the night progressed. The way she forced herself against me. I hoped she didn’t try anything like that with poor Ben. Oh god.
“He proposed, you know,” Mars added to the silence.
My chest constricted. “Casper?”
Mars shook their head. “No, Ben did. The night he went missing. Christmas day.”
“Oh.” I imagined it: Ben gleefully falling to one knee.
“He asked me for advice.” A laugh was hidden in their words. “Me, of all people, being asked for proposal advice.”
I was unaware of the true ins and outs of Mars’ dating history, nor was it my business, but from what I gathered, it consisted of a handful of very different types of people with a multitude of personalities. None were ever serious though.
“I helped him pick the ring, bless him,” they continued, reminiscing.
I fell sick to my stomach with sadness. Poor, poor, poor boy. He was almost a decade my senior and yet I always saw him as a younger brother whom I needed to protect. I think everyone saw Ben that way.
“She will pay for what she has done,” I stated through gritted teeth.
“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a second.”
As it turned out, Mars was exactly right. Ben was still alive.
Less than an hour later, Marianne called us in tears she no longer tried to hold back. She hauled us into the hall and tossed a crumpled piece of paper in our direction, Mars grabbing it from her and biting the back of their hand after reading it. They threw it to the floor in a fit, stomping their foot and pacing. I picked up the discarded letter from the floor, the smooth parchment mocking me as I held it in my hands. Right there, in fountain ink: a satire of formality.
Dearest Thorns,
It saddens me that you have made no effort to find your most valued player. He sits and begs for you, and yet you do not come. I have informed him of your attempts, or lack thereof, and he is deeply saddened by this. He longs for his partner, or should I say fiancé (my congratulations), but this long distance is taking a toll on him, poor boy. Do they not wish to see me? He wonders at night. Hmm. It appears you do not. Disappointing.
Yours most dearly,
Lucienne Dumont x
My first thought was I wonder if she thought she was revealing herself here? But my second quickly became that of Ben, lying on a cold dark floor, calling out helplessly for Casper — or any of us for that matter.
“That fucking bitch,” Mars growled and kicked the nearest wall.
My hand hand fell to my side, note still tight in my grip. I did not speak.
“There’s one for you too, Arlo.”
I looked to my leader, another less crumpled note residing in her outstretched hands. Still in its envelope, though the seal had been broken. I hesitantly pulled it from her hands, looking deep into her eyes, searching for some understanding of what I was about to read.
Mars turned to watch me open it, coming up close beside me.
Sweetest Arlo,
How is death treating you? My apologies for not having written sooner. As you can gather, I am a busy woman. Things to do. But fear not, for I have always kept you close in mind and heart. I hear you have become closely acquainted with my dear Michael? He is quite a handful, isn’t he? Has he told you of his plans? He is quite the secretive sort but I trust he knows what he is doing with you. Though I must say, he doesn’t seem to like me very much. I wonder why? He and his ‘Moon’ were so welcoming at first. Oh well, some friendships are not meant to last — I’m sure you understand all about that, don’t you?
And oh, say hello to Marianne for me. Though I’m sure she will be reading this before you so I suppose I could say it myself! Hello! Isiah spoke so highly of you. Such a shame you had to cut him down. Will you ever learn our true purpose? Or will you forever be trying to cling on to every scrap of your humanity? Such a waste. Tut tut.
Anyway, Arlo I hope this letter finds you well, I look forward to hearing from you very soon.
Love, your sire x
I let Mars read the whole thing over my shoulder; there was no point in hiding anything now. Marianne already knew everything anyway.
Mars made a stubborn ‘pfft’ sound. “Your sire? Bitch.”
“I knew she would do this. It’s exactly like before. Isiah. His teasing.” Marianne wiped her still damp cheeks, blackened makeup smeared below her eyes.
“This means he’s alive though right?” I tried, completely glossing over my own personal letter, which was now perhaps the least personal thing I owned in this room.
“I fucking hope so!” Marianne shouted at us. She was no leader anymore, just a tired woman; exhausted from holding up this front for so long. For the first time since I met her, she sounded how she looked. Like a young woman who had bitten off more than she could chew. Finally the mask was slipping.
“He’s alive?” A quiet Louisiana accent floated through the door. I turned to see Casper standing at the threshold; coat sodden from rain, and his face damp. Marianne must have called him.
“Let me see the letter,” he begged, striding forward and pulling it from my hand. I had since pocketed my own.
Casper’s deep brown eyes scanned the document, his breathing hard, and a lone droplet of water still hung from his cupid’s bow. Both his hands gripped tight to each side of the letter.
Mars tried to pull it back. “Casper, don’t.”
Casper didn’t respond, but simply wiped his lip, sniffling and turning his body away to stop either of us from retaining the paper. His golden earrings swung from his lobes.
“So where is he?” he finally demanded once he had finished reading. “WHERE IS HE?” he screamed at us all, eyes wide and shoulders trembling; his pain drowning each of us.
Marianne flinched the most. Her face having still not recovered from her initial reading. “I don’t know,” she said, almost inaudibly.
Casper shook the letter violently in the air, pointing towards our leader. “Is this no clue?” he cried. “Did nothing else come with this?” His energy was draining fast.
Marianne shook her head and Casper whirled to face me and Mars. His eyes pools of desperate pleas.
“She clearly doesn’t want us to know yet,” Mars said, closing their eyes to avoid any of our reactions.
“I’ll kill her.” Casper backed up, panting. He hunched his back as if he were surrounded by hostility and was preparing to flee. “I will kill her.”
“Casper you can’t just…” Marianne’s words halted and she inhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Casper didn’t react, not immediately, but his breathing grew shallow as we waited for her to finish.
“We can’t act rash, we… we can’t start a war. I can’t put any more of you in danger.”
“That’s easy for you to say when it’s not your partner.”
I don’t know how he hadn’t completely snapped yet.
“You don’t think I’ve lost people?” Marianne straightened her back and raised her chin. “Do you think I haven’t had to fight before? That I haven’t had to watch those I love be taken away right from under my nose?”
It was only then that I noticed the echo in the room and Marianne’s voice grew larger than life.
Casper stiffened, hands forming fists at his side while his eyes turned crimson.
Marianne stepped towards us so that we were all but inches apart. I wanted to step back but I didn’t.
“We will find Ben, through any means necessary, but I cannot justify any more bloodshed. We will not be taking any lives unless it’s clear they plan to sacrifice us.”
Marianne was the smallest of us all, by far, but her voice rose ten feet above us. No one dared to move.
The room grew cold, as if a draft had found its way through every crevice and crack in the walls and floor.
I looked up at Mars, their eyes were locked onto mine. Instantly, I knew that we were both thinking exactly the same. The cage. Jade.
I thought Mars was about to open their mouth, and I glanced at both Marianne and Casper, but they were cut off as Casper stood to full height with his brow furrowed into a deep scowl.
“You’re such a hypocrite,” he spat before turning on his heels and storming out of the door, Ben’s worn, old coat billowing behind him.
How long can one wait? If you’ve set out with the intention of doing something, how long is it before you concede? I speak as though this was an art and crafts project, perhaps my novel I so dutifully neglected at the start of the term, or the bundles of poetry I crumpled to the bottom of my bag. Maybe that could have been something I couldn’t hold my tongue about, if I’d had the confidence. Something to be proud of. But not this. No, this was malicious to the core. Having us chase around like wild dogs, hunting for a scent that was never left in the first place.
She waited a further two days, let us wallow in shame, before she sent her second note.
She knew where we resided, and likely had known for quite some time, yet how long exactly, none of us could tell.
The package was dumped at the door right at the point when Rani and I were walking past the entrance, as if she was able see our every move and calculated the prime time. Or maybe it was Michael’s doing. After all, he always knew where I was.
I couldn’t bring myself to speak his name; the name I so adamantly knew was not his real name — if he even owned a name at all. His voice had grown quiet since that evening in the woods, but I knew he would never be too far. A small flicker of otherness still burned in the back of my mind. My darkness. Just ticking away until the time was right.
I refused to let there ever be another time.
“Did you hear that?” Rani turned to me, her face startled.
“I did.” I barely looked at her, my attention already focused on the exact point of the sound’s origin — the front door, barricaded up as it always was.
“Someone’s outside,” she guessed, and she followed me as I stepped closer.
I placed my palm flush against the oak and pressed my ear to it. Closing my eyes, I let my senses do the rest.
“Anything?” Rani asked after a handful of seconds had passed. She extended a cautious arm in my direction.
After a few minutes of utter silence, I motioned for Rani to stand back. I carefully removed the metal bar and latches to one side, slowly creaking open part of the door, just enough to see that there was in fact no one there, but a lone brown box sat on the pavement below. I was at first hesitant to do anything, but my brain was beyond being cautious by that point. If it were to bring us immediate harm, I would have thought it would have been executed much more professionally.
I scraped the package, which was much lighter than it looked, across the ground and onto the other side of the door, swiftly closing it behind me and locking it back up.
“What does it say?” Rani crouched down to read the cursive black scrawled across the top.
She traced her finger across the words then looked up at me, sucking in her lips. Her eyes said everything I needed to know.
“‘For Casper’,” Rani read slowly.
I crouched down to her height to inspect it further. It was indeed addressed to Casper, and though I had not spent too many months around them all, my gut knew it to be true — it was Ben’s handwriting. Shaky and unsure, but the curl of the ‘C’ was unmistakable.
Rani stood back up and headed for the door.
“No.” I held her back, but I knew I was trying to reassure myself more than her. Rani wouldn’t have been so stupid as to go outside now, but I perhaps might have been.
Her eyes flashed to me. “What are we going to do? What’s inside the box?”
I paused, lowering my head; hair falling in front of my eyes. What are we going to do? We can’t give it straight to Casper, but shouldn’t we? Seeing Ben’s writing will comfort him, right? But what’s inside?
I carefully picked up the box, its weight suspicious.
“We can’t just give it to him. What if it’s…” she stopped herself with a hand cupped over her mouth in a gasp.
“It’s light,” I said, putting it back down on the floor.
“And that’s supposed to be, what? Reassuring?” she snapped.
“I don’t know.” I honestly don’t know.
“Maybe we should just get rid of it? He doesn’t need to know,” Rani suggested, crossing her arms firmly across her chest, as if to hide the fact that she was now shaking. I could sense her fear. “It’s clearly another teaser, and she expects us to open it, to fall for the trap. If we don’t then we win, right?” She was not sure at all.
“Or we could open it,” I said, not quite liking the idea as it came out of my mouth, but I didn’t revoke the statement anyhow.
“Did you hear a word I just said?” Rani’s eyes widened.
“I did, but I think we should open it.”
Rani gulped, heart hammering.
“Well?” I waited for her to agree, the only thing that would have gotten me to follow through.
“We need to show Marianne,” she finally suggested.
After everything, we probably should.
“Okay,” I agreed, standing up with the box in hand. “Okay.”
“Dear lord.”
I rested the box before Marianne, who we found in the painting clad room, pacing. She’d been out all night with the rest of us. We were never giving in.
“I don’t want Casper to open it alone,” I said. Rani nodded beside me.
“I understand that.” Marianne bent down and lifted up the package. She held it above her head and analysed the base before shaking it a little — something I was too anxious to do.
