The Second (The Immortal Prophecies: Book I)

XIII. Guenevere

The urge to scream was becoming stronger than I could handle. But that would do no justice to three things: the pillow, my throat, and my sense of direction. It ached badly enough that I acted like such a coward in admitting I wanted to quit, feeling caged by something inside me was much worse.

Such as my inevitable record nightmares--the ones that would replay in my head over and over, never feeling the need to stop.

But the memory itself wasn't what was scaring me, but its timing. It was right after I noticed the remaining streaks of blue in Lincoln's eyes. Right before Frederick and Julia had told us they found a dangerous relic part of me. I've never been one to be superstitious or believed in omens, but coincidence wasn't the answer now. It was too fitting.

And bog-worthy.

You little ninny! Your days of toilet visits are over. And what do you think you're doing? Already giving up? For maggot's sake, I gave you a week before you could go and do this.

A week? It only took about an hour for me to become insane, but a week to handle it wasn't enough. An eternity to contain my Pandora's Box was more like it. Or if it were possible, an eternity of eternities.

I stood from my submissive seat on the floor, removing my countenance from my clothened knees, and began to pace.

The prophecy kept gnawing its way into my mind, seductively urging I begin to unfurl the metaphoric existence. So I stated the facts first: it held a piece of my fate--blast, blast, blast--I wasn't the only one without a complete set, nor was I the only one with one. Mine, Lincoln's, and Dimitri's were stolen and no one knew who the thief was.

'Until now.'

No. For goodness sake, why is it becoming harder for me not to believe in that bloody possibility? Yanking the hair out my scalp wouldn't become logic's wormhole, and the constricting of my chest was making me delusional.

Truth be told, of course I wanted to know who out of all people abandoned me at the steps of the orphanage. It hurt when I used to think of the reasons they'd do it, not the slightest clue left behind to identify. Just one solitaire infant, and a note.

It was still painful.

But it was selfish of me to think of that. Bonnie had no clue either, as did Theo and the others, and they seemed fine to continue their lives without them--trouble and all. It was time I took that same choice.

So why couldn't I?

***

I found myself moving with the wind atop everyone else on the roof, my thoughts intertwined with my tangling hair. The same question kept echoing inside the crevices of my head, a few harsh, some dangerously hopeful, and most questioning with sincerity.

Gah! That was enough.

No different from what I was previously thinking of, I found a connection between my visit with Frederick and Julia from Sìmon. I recieved two items--all from the same people. Or so they wanted me to think. The necklace was easily concluded as to why it was sent, but the reason behind the prophecy was puzzling.

Not only that, but they could've given the items to Lincoln long before I joined him. So how did they know to keep them until I had arrived, while also turning their heads from Dimitri altogether? How did they know when I was going to arrive?

And to add, why did I feel like Dimitri had intentions that spelled mistrust?

I groaned aloud, looking to the Heavens. If this was a sign, it was very much not a bloody good one. Curse it all!