Chapter 8: Missing In Action

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Rhiannon stared sullenly at the locket. Her mind kept wandering back to Devlin's disappearance. She kind of missed having him poke around in her mind.

Devlin?

It remained silent. Rhiannon wondered whether it was because Devlin was refusing to talk to her or she just wasn’t getting through at the moment. Whichever one it was, it made her anxious. He hadn’t spoken to her once in the last week. He hadn’t left the confines of the locket even when she’d screamed with her mind. Something was terribly wrong and she needed to figure out what.

She took her usual seat at the back of the English room. Rhiannon fell into her seat with an audible thump, the sound echoing in the near empty room. A few heads turned but gratefully they all turned back to their work.

Some of the students waved at her from above their books, she smiled warmly. They eventually returned to their reading, leaving her to her thoughts.

Devlin was in dire need of help.

That much she could understand from what little information had given her.

Some silly poem. What was she supposed to make of that? She didn’t even know where to begin.

Maybe it was a riddle?

But if it wasn’t then she would’ve wasted precious time that could’ve been used in helping Devlin. She couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.

Rhiannon pulled a hand through her hair, before placing the locket into her pocket as more students began to arrive.

There were a few more people who found it within themselves to smile at her before they sat down for some early study. She appreciated how this small group of people accepted her, no matter who the Queen Bee was outside of the room. They treated each other as equals, because in the end they all shared the same passion.

Advanced English was a lesson to relax and to surround herself with something she actually loved.

At first she’d chosen Advanced English because it was an excuse to get away from the crowds of ditsy bimbos and dumb jocks that graced the halls of Newford High. But as she started getting a feel for it, Rhiannon had been surprised to learn, she actually enjoyed English in all its forms.

Not only that she could actually think and talk to people who had enough brains to have a decent conversation. These people didn’t particularly care about the social hierarchy or even social lives.

No cheerleaders had made it into Advanced English. There were no prizes for guessing why. But she was sure she would’ve bitten some bitch’s head off if they had.

Rhiannon rested her forehead on the table. She had looked it up as soon as she could get on her laptop. It was the Fairy Queen. An old poem. She had no idea what to make of it. Was it symbolic? Literal? She didn't know. She was so lost.

A curse?  A woman forever to waste away? Why would Devlin mention something like this? She pounded her fist against the desk, weakly.  No one batted an eyelash and she was grateful for that.

She wanted to help Devlin but he wasn’t letting her in. It was frustrating, being completely helpless. She just sat there thinking as the other students quietly worked away their lives, letting time leave them behind.

Perhaps Devlin had been in love with the beautiful woman of the poem, and at her deathbed he had promised her that he would remain in her locket until the day he found her again in another life. Or maybe their love had been forbidden and he had been cursed into the locket by a jealous suitor.

Rhiannon found she didn’t like either possibility at all. 

She felt something dark in her, unfurl and choke her heart. She couldn’t give it a name, but Rhiannon definitely didn’t like that feeling one bit.

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