cloak of carmine

legend

The Bishops watch us like zoo exhibits, wary, as though we are about to attack.

"Dema don't control us," I mutter, so quietly I don't think even I can hear. "Dema don't control us."

I scrunch my eyes shut, but even then I can see Reisdro's, cruel and black beneath his veil. He's speaking to me, using the sort of voice people use to coax kittens down from high places. I don't hear him. In this moment, everything seems cold and far away. Blurry, like when your eyes are tired. All I can feel is Josh's thumb as he rubs it back and forth over my hand. I concentrate on slowing my breathing in time. Back, forth, back, forth. My stomach seems to ease ever so slightly. I take a deep breath and open my eyes.

Reisdro is still there, flanked by two others- Sacarver and...Vetomo, maybe? It's so dark here, and the watery, straggling light from the top of the staircase casts strange, ugly shadows across the Bishops' faces. For a moment, I'm sure they're monsters. How the dark makes demons of dreams, and monsters of men.

Josh holds his bat, half disgusted, half defiant, almost daring them to come closer. (I have no clue where he got it- it seemed like he plucked it straight from thin air.) Their cloaks grin at me in their malevolent red, cruel and proud, like slashes of blood in the darkness.

I lean forward slightly, tilting from the balls of my feet to the tips of my toes, and it feels as though I'm about to take flight. To soar right over their heads, over the city, away from all this, away from everything until there's just me and the endless sky. To be a vulture.

And then...Jenna. She appears all aglow behind the Bishops, flickering gold like firelight, looking every part my guardian angel. She sees me and closes her eyes for a second. She mutters something under her breath, then looks at me and taps her hand. It's quick and discreet, nothing the Bishops would ever notice. But I know what she means.

I've written over it several times now so it's stayed, tattooed onto my skin like a promise. I can't pretend that I understand it. But it feels important to me. And I'm holding onto the hope that one day, maybe I will understand. And that will be the day that I realise that everything will be okay. Maybe not forever. Maybe not even for long. But it will be okay.

She turns Sacarver, and they exchange in low, hurried tones that I can't make out. Every so often Sacarver turns to look at me. Suddenly I feel stupidly small and fragile. The other two Bishops seem almost...concerned. Josh begins to lower his bat, more out of confusion than anything else.

I still find myself in that dreamlike state of apathy where I can't quite comprehend anything seriously. I understand the gravity of the situation, but it doesn't quite affect me. I know I should be scared of the Bishops. Of what they could do. To me. To Josh.

I'm glad they didn't see the fire. I don't know what the possession of fire is punished with, but I know it's swift and severe. I think about the months spent in the tower, alone, tallying the days in the dust collected around the skirting boards. But it feels like a dream, like a million years ago. Like one of the Bishops' fake memories, emotionless, encircled with grey.

It feels like my eyes have buried themselves several inches deeper into my skull and it feels like I'm no longer living my life, but rather intruding on someone else's. I barely go out of my room.

Sacarver gives a final, disgruntled nod. The Bishops turn on their heels in unison and sweep out, leaving us in a shocked silence. But I don't even have time to think to ask before Jenna barrages up the stairs and takes my hand.

"Thank you." I blurt out.

How did she manage to get the Bishops to just leave like that? What did she say? Am I in trouble? Am I-