Does It Matter?

Chapter 20

It was still early in the evening, but stuck in the darkness of his closet with nothing else to do Bug found himself drifting in and out of sleep. He'd been doing that more and more lately, as though his body was attempting to conserve energy by indulging in any chance it could get to rest. He had appreciated the escape from the real world before the vision of the man holding him like a lover had started hounding him quite so persistently.

Only, that wasn't what woke him this time. This time, it was the sound of a woman screaming from outside. Bug bolted upright, his heart hammering in his chest.

And then he woke up. Again. He was still laying down. There was no screaming. It hadn't happened yet.

If he had simply heard screaming, here and now, his response would have been easy: do nothing. Simple. Whatever had happened didn't involve him and he didn't want it to.

But it hadn't happened yet. It had been a vision, forced into his mind by... well, he didn't know what delivered these visions to him. Was it some facet of his own mind? Was it an external force? Bug had no idea, but he'd come to trust it. When it showed him something, it was always important.

Bug slowly opened the door to his closet. It wasn't locked. It never was. With enough fear, you didn't need locks.

He crept out of the bedroom, but Lord Nolen and Fraccus weren't there. He had been fairly sure they were at the party, but under normal circumstances he wouldn't have risked it.

Bug eyed the biscuit tin as he made his way to the door. Surely, if he took just one, Lord Nolen wouldn't notice...

He shook his head, internally chastising himself. If Lord Nolen did find out the consequences would be unthinkable. Besides, he had to stay focused.

The hallway was empty as Bug stepped into it, everyone downstairs at the party. Bug would have to weave his way through the servant's corridors to get outside without drawing attention to himself. He had taken two steps into the hallway when his mind was violently yanked into another vision.

Bug was standing outside, staring down at the twisted, broken body of a young man. His injuries looked unsurvivable, but Bug could still hear him breathing, loud and laboured. He took a step closer and all of a sudden recognition struck him: this was the prince's slave.

Bug returned to the present to find himself gripping the bannister. He pushed away, ready to take action, but he didn't know what to do. He could go outside, but what use would that be? Watching the poor man die would help nobody.

But maybe his death wasn't a foregone conclusion. Maybe Bug could still save him. Judging from where the slave had been laying near the castle wall and his extremely broken bones, Bug guessed he had fallen from the window of his room.

Bug jogged up just two steps before control of his mind was forcefully taken from him again.

He was standing in the doorway to one of the nicer guest rooms. Fraccus was standing near the window at the back of the room, lifting the prince's slave by the front of his shirt. Fraccus' eyes locked with Bug's as he effortlessly tossed the squirming slave from the open window.

Bug started to back up, but Fraccus' long stride easily cleared the distance between them. He reached out and Bug wrenched his mind back to the present before he had to find out what Fraccus had planned for him.

Bug was sprawled on the stairs. He must have fallen. Now he could add his knees to the list of his body parts that stung.

Bug sat on the stairs and thought for a moment. Going outside was useless. Going upstairs was useless and potentially deadly.