I left Mom and slogged to my own bedroom. Night had approached quicker than I had anticipated, leaving a soft, sleepy feeling that fell like a blanket on the entire town. Stars twinkled outside my bedroom window, smiling down on me. And high above, the moon glowed and illuminated the silvery world below. Instead of being a comfort and a constant to me as it usually was, it unnerved me. The night was her domain, and I had no desire to cross it.
Feeling like a child afraid of the dark, I scampered over to my bed and turned on my bedside lamp. A warm glow sent the shadows chasing out the window. A moment of relief washed over me. Zach and Ryan had clunked inside and lumbered off to bed, not bothering to say goodnight as they usually did. I could still sense their anger and maybe a twinge of regret.
I listened to their loud snores through the thin walls and basked in the moment of peace. I could let out my breath and unwind, finally settle into myself instead of being on display.
I didn't bother undressing, not wanting to leave the warm cocoon that was my blankets and pillows. I took a small comfort from my own scent that permeated my duvet, wrapping myself in familiarity. Despite the pounding of my heart, I did try my best to fall asleep.
A sharp tapping sound jerked me from my sleepy stupor. I wrenched off the blankets and sat straight up, fear tearing its way through me.
A shadowy figure moved outside my balcony doors. A cold chill ran down my spine. I slammed open my nightstand drawer, fighting a wave of undulating horror. I couldn't bring myself to dig through my closet to find my pocketknife because my legs were frozen. My fingers searched desperately for something sharp, anything of use. Maybe Artemis had decided to take justice into her own hands instead of letting fate work its course.
My hand closed around an envelope opener, my only method of defense. It would be utterly useless next to Artemis's mammoth sized silver bow.
Terror's cold fingers closed around my throat as the shadowy figure hovered just outside my doors. I briefly wondered what damage my fists could do, and if they could even bruise her flawless marble skin. Perhaps gods were impenetrable, completely invincible. It wouldn't surprise me. Nothing surprised me anymore.
"Is it you?" I whispered, striving to keep my voice steady. Artemis would like that; she had no respect for cowardly, sniveling fools, even fools damned to a punishment at her own hands. If I had to die, I was going to die with at least an iota of grace.
"Alexis, it's me," said a familiar voice. A head of curly, brown hair peeked around the door as it creaked open.
Relief instantly flooded me as I dropped the envelope opener and let out a cry of relief.
"Joel!" I hissed through my tears. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see if you were okay," he said grinning. He shrugged one shoulder. "And Jamie said that we should meet in an hour."
"You scared me half to death!" I nearly screamed, punching my pillows. My muscles loosened to jelly and I slumped over, trying to suppress the feeling of rage and terror that was knotted inside of me. These days, I could hardly remember what it felt like not to be constantly afraid. Afraid that if I let my guard down one second, I would find an arrow in my back.
"Oh my God," I breathed, trying to calm down.
"Sorry," he replied sheepishly. "I tried the front door, but it was locked. I thought this was Zach's room. I should have known it was yours."
"You could have called me like a normal person," I grumbled a little. He offered me a sheepish smile.
I knew that I should be furious to be woken up so abruptly, but the fear eventually faded and the realization that Joel Callister was standing in my bedroom at ten o' clock at night started to dawn on me. If my brothers found out, they would kill me. But not before they murdered Joel where he stood.
Heat rushed to my cheeks as I sat, clutching my blankets tightly around me. I was wearing only a tube top and ratty shorts-my usual sleepwear-and I was all too aware of the frightful mess on top of my head. Suddenly, I ached for a hairbrush and my smooth, silk robe hanging from a peg in my closet, all but forgotten. It was extravagant and pretty, but incredibly unnecessary, given to me by Mom in one of her lapses of sobriety and shame.
Joel must have sensed my embarrassment because he blushed too, averting his eyes from my bare naked shoulders. "I, uh, I'm gonna wait outside?"
"That would be good," I agreed, trying to ignore the furious redness spreading down my neck. I waited until he was on the balcony before I rushed into my closet, reaching for a thick reddish purple sweatshirt. I grabbed a pair of faded blue jeans and shimmied into them, relaxing into the comfort of my own things. Jamie's emerald sweatshirt lay folded over my armchair, ready to be returned. I had experienced a bit of Jamie's world, and that was more than enough.
I quickly ran a brush through my tangles of brown hair and splashed water onto my face. No puffy eyes or dry skin for me. Tugging on a pair of shoes, I dashed out my balcony doors to meet him.
He was standing with his back facing me. The view from my balcony overlooked the street and the distant water tower on the horizon. Dimming street lamps glowed faintly with artificial light. A car or two rolled silently past on Main Street, surely packed with a sleeping family, coming home from an excursion. The only noise was the whisper of trees in the wind and the songs you heard from silence. Moments like these, it was easy to forget that there was any other place in the world.
Just this one, just the one before you.
"Pretty, isn't it?" I asked, coming up behind him. I quickly plaited my hair into a haphazard braid. "It's why Mom claimed this room for me when I was a baby. Said that the gift of beauty should be given to someone who could appreciate it." I chuckled. "Meaning not my brothers. Their idea of beauty is a Sunday night football game."
Joel laughed with me. "Hey, that's my idea of beauty too. Though," he said, looking intently at my face, "I can appreciate other forms of it."
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I gulped, trying my best not to swoon. I could just barely make out his face. His features were soft in the shadows of night. A breeze kicked up, tickling my face with its cool touch. It was a sensual feeling, giving me a lightness in my head like I had drank too much wine. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not.
Somehow I seemed freer. Softer. More bold.
I couldn't help but like this newer version of myself.
"Do you want to see something cool?" I asked excitedly. Before he had the chance to answer, I turned and climbed up on the rails of the balcony, daring him to follow me.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes trailing me suspiciously.
"We're going to the roof," I grinned. "When I was a little girl I used to wish that we had a fire escape. It seemed so romantic. I wanted to sit high up on the fire escape to watch the sun go down." I looked up to the stars.
Joel chuckled. "So you're a romantic now?" he teased.
"Sometimes. Most girls are at some point," I stood on the railing, my back straight. I looked down at the ground below me to the distant fuzziness of the grass. It would be a hard fall.
I had always been of average height, and if I stood straight, I could just reach out and touch the roof. Of course, Joel, being a head taller than me, had an easier time with it.
I grunted a little, straining. "You ought to know what romantics are like, Callister. You're going to the Homecoming dance with one." I tried to make my tone light so that he wouldn't detect any trace of hurt or envy in it. He and Sierra were a combination that I had no desire to learn about.
"And do you romantics want a dozen long-stemmed roses as well?" he snickered. "Strawberries dipped in chocolate and a violin quartet?"
"Now you're making it sound silly."
"Just teasing you, you poor little romance sap," he joked, offering his hand to give me a boast. "I guess a night under the stars will have to do. Here," he grunted, trying to boost me up. "Step on the top of the door and swing your leg over-there, that's good."
I rolled onto the roof and moved over so that he could heave himself up. He did, hardly even puffing with the effort. "Careful of the gutter," I warned him. Our gutters were filled with muck and leaves.
Once he was safely seated next to me, he offered me a mischievous smirk. "What's next, Captain?" he asked, saluting.
I pointed to the chimney and the slant of the roof. "We're going up all the way, Callister. Think you can handle it?"
He scoffed, "Please, don't make me laugh."
Giggling a little, I started to climb, destined for the top. The roof was steeply slanted without anything for footholds, but I had always been nimble and quick. And Joel was lean and strong from hours and hours of football practice. We clambered up the sides, our laughter echoing in the winds.
"Getting tired?" I teased, looking over my shoulder to see him close behind me.
"Not on your life," he growled back.
Eventually, we reached the top, panting a little with the effort. It wasn't that the top of the roof was so high up, but that there were no grooves or handholds to help us along.
I laid down, my sweatshirt saving me from the scratch of shingles. The night sky was enormous, looming above me. Billions of white lights mixed together to create a shimmering tapestry. The night was unusually clear, and the brilliancy of the stars weren't drowned out by glaring city lights. It was breathtaking.
"Wow," Joel murmured, sitting next to me.
"Nice, huh?" I smiled to myself, feeling warm and fuzzy. I could feel the heat coming off of his body through the thin fabric of his shirt. A smell of sharp clean soap filled my nostrils, the most delicious of scents. I sighed, content in a rare moment of happiness.
It took everything to remember that he was not mine. He belonged to Sierra in status and to Jamie in heart.
I squinted into the darkness, reveling in the peace of the moment. "Sometimes I come out here when everyone's asleep. Get away from everything. You know?"
"Yeah," Joel sighed, the wind ruffling his hair.
I snorted, in spite of myself. "You're Joel Callister. What do you have to get away from?"
He shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes shining in the darkness.
"Any deep, dark secrets in your closet?" I teased, goading him on. "C'mon, you're practically royalty here. What do possibly have to worry about?" I was ragging on him, yes, but a part of me was truly curious.
"You never know, Alexis," Joel whispered, his voice soft against the velvety darkness. "You never know what happens behind closed doors."
"Please," I said, trying to keep emotion out of my voice. "Leave your worries behind, Callister. Worrying's for trash. It isn't a good look on you."
We were silent then, staring up at the stars, the world laid bare below us. I could see for miles around. My house, albeit small, had three stories and a full roof, giving me a wide view of the place that was my home. It was a home and yet it was a prison, keeping me trapped and laying me low.
"Don't be so quick to judge me for my lot in life, Alexis," Joel responded, looking out into the haze of shadows. "I had no choice in what I got, just like you."
I spoke, choosing my words carefully. No matter how hard I tried, they were filled with bitterness.
"My world is divided by great lines, lines of poverty and addiction and status. And they were drawn by the people who were supposed to love me the most. My mother, my brothers, my father, even my best friend. I'm fenced in." I look at him, trying to keep my hurt inside. "Now you talk about no choice."
"My grandmother is dying."
The words cut through my heart, and I closed my eyes, cursing myself. "Oh my God, Joel, I'm sorry."
"It's okay," he sighed. "Cancer, what else? When that doctor came in to tell me the news, I kept thinking, it's us, you know? You hear this stuff happen to other people, but you never think that its going to happen to you."
"You think that you're invincible," I finished for him, the breeze fluttering my flurries of hair.
"Yeah," he admitted. "First mistake. Nothing is invincible in this world."
"No," I agreed, hugging my knees to my chest. "Nothing is. Nothing's ever easy, either."
"What fine choices she chose," he murmured, hanging his head. "You really don't think that she just picked us all randomly, do you? Me and Grams, you and your mom, Sierra and her brother. Maybe she likes broken people."
I laugh shakily, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, you're not broken yet, Callister. You haven't hit rock bottom yet. I promise you, it gets way worse."
He snorted. "Uh, thanks, I guess?"
"Welcome," I shrugged my shoulders. Feeling tears welling in my eyes for the five hundredth time in a day, I looked down at the laces on my shoes.
"Hey," Joel whispered, nudging me. "What Nate said to you...that night. It isn't true. Neither is what your brother said to you. I overheard in the parking lot."
"Great," I groaned, tearing my gaze from his face and fixating them on galaxies far away.
"Do you know what I like the night sky?" I asked.
"You're changing the subject."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Okay, so maybe I am!" I threw my hands up in defeat. "But do you really know why I come out here?"
"Because you're a secret hopeless romantic?" he offered, grinning a little.
"That too," I laughed. I squinted my eyes, staring up at the sky again. "I come for the...clarity, I guess you could call it. Do you see this?" I gestured my hand, sweeping it across my vision. "It's beautiful, isn't it? Nature's greatest show. So wide, so vast. Never ending. Billions of stars have a way of making you feel small, your worries small. It makes me feel like there is something bigger out there, something that matters more than what clothes to wear or what girls to befriend. It makes me feel...equal to anyone else." I shrugged my shoulders, picking at the cuffs of my jeans. "Or maybe I'm just babbling."
"No, I get it," he said softly. His fingers grazed my chin, forcing me to look at him. "You feel like a puppet on a string normally. But here you are free."
"Exactly!" I exclaimed, hugging my knees to my chest. His eyes sparkled in the darkness. "It's like a little piece of heaven on earth, don't you think?"
We sat there, looking up at the sky, simply enjoying the cool night air and the tantalizing softness of the darkness.
"Joel."
"Hmm?" he asked lazily, his eyes fluttering closed.
"You said that we were all broken. That she chose us on purpose."
"Yeah."
"Why's Jamie broken?"
...
Jamie and Sierra were waiting for us on the agreed-upon place, Central Park, when we arrived. Both stood awkwardly apart, clearly uncomfortable in each other's presence.
"Took you long enough. You're forty minutes late," Sierra managed to say snidely, looking at between the two of us venomously.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I was simply too exhausted.
"What is it Jamie?" I said tiredly, rubbing my eyes.
"Yes, what is this important thing you had to drag us out of our homes for?" Sierra grumbled, tightening a blanket around her shoulders. Even though she was different now, the temptation to complain was too much to ignore for my former best friend.
Jamie's jaw clenched in the darkness, biting back a retort. I could tell that Jamie was liking Sierra less and less by the minute.
"My father and I pored over the book tonight," she explained, heaving the wretched thing from her cross-body satchel.
"That thing is huge," Joel said, eyeing it. "Nice work."
Jamie shrugged, letting the compliment roll off of her. "Desperate times, desperate measures, eh? Anyway I found some interesting things. Joel, did you bring the flashlight like I asked?"
"Right here," he answered, pulling out one I had procured from Zach's closet.
"Excellent," Jamie nodded, pulling out a page of notes. She shone the flashlight, revealing lines and lines of her neat penmanship.
"It looks like a bunch of stupidity," Sierra remarked rather brilliantly.
"No one asked your opinion," I hissed. "And how would you know?"
Even in the darkness, I could tell that she was blushing with anger and embarrassment.
"Anyway..." Jamie said awkwardly. "Sierra's not totally wrong. The book was filled with a lot of unnecessary facts. But one thing caught my eye." She pointed to a bullet point, and a feeling of cold dread embedded in my stomach as I read the words written there.
"Winshest was best known for its archery contests," I read, squinting to read in the dim light of Zach's flashlight. "The largest event was hosted by Phineas Morgan and his family."
A chill raced down my spine. Morgan. Morgan.
I could feel all their eyes looking at me, questioning me. I gulped down my horror and dread and forced myself to read more of Jamie's detailed words.
"The year of 1933, Morgan began holding his archery contests, The Feats of Diana." I whispered to myself. "Wait, but that's our archery contest, the one held every year!" The contest that I had almost won last year.
Jamie nodded grimly. "Keep reading. It gets worse."
But in the year of 1935, the contest was cut short. On October 15th, Morgan's servant boy, Edward Blake, was found murdered beside a young woman late one evening at dusk. The boy had been shot clean through the abdomen with an arrow. The woman's throat was slit by Blake's own dagger.
I heard Sierra's sharp intake of breath, but I kept scanning the page. Crop failure, bank robberies, recessions, and more had hit Winshest hard in the following years. Whatever had happened on October 15th, it had something to do with Artemis because she cursed the town with bad luck ever since.
Had been shot clean through the abdomen with an arrow. Just like Anna, Nate, and Mr. Parker. Artemis's vengeance was brutal and cruel. Whatever that poor boy had done, I doubted if he deserved the fate he got.
"Oh my God," I said softly, heat rushing to my cheeks. "Oh my God."
"I know," Jamie replied, sighing. "My father wanted to know why I was suddenly so interested in the history of Winshest."
"What did you say?" Joel asked, his eyebrows furrowing.
"School project," she responded, stuffing the book back into her bag. "He won't suspect anything. Nobody will. We swear it, right?"
"Yeah," Joel echoed quietly. "We tell no one."
But I wasn't listening to them. I was staring at Sierra trying to gauge her reaction even in the dark. I used to know her like I knew the back of my hand. Now I wasn't not so sure. Whatever had happened eighty years or so ago had something to do with us. Each and everyone of us.
On Jamie's wrist, her watch beeped, illuminating the time. 12:00 AM.
Hope you got enough energy, Morgan, a dark voice laughed in my head. The second day's begun.
A/N
Hello, my fellow readers! What happened the night of October 15, 1935? Why did Edward Blake die? Who is the strange woman? What do you think Artemis is going to do next? Comment what you think!
Hope you enjoy these last updated chapters! Vote if you liked!
(This is the end of Alexis's POV for awhile, by the way.)
Love all of you guys!
-Beatrice