"They're still the same!" Luc shouted and pounded his fist on the table in frustration. I was close to doing the same, but instead all I managed was a sigh. There was no point in wasting energy getting mad; it wouldn't solve anything.
That was how I felt about everything lately. My determination had begun to give way to apathy, and I could feel my resolve to fight slipping away with every day that passed. Every day was a failure, and every failure wore me down a little more. There was a little murmur in my head, growing a little louder each time, an insidious little whisper that urged me to just give up and let the Beast take me; I managed to fight it off, but I knew my strength was dwindling.
The cards were the same as the first time we had tried to get a reading since Luc's powers had returned. We had been trying for over a week, several times a day, to no avail. Though each time we approached with slightly different questions, trying to eke more information from them, the cards simply didn't change.
I knew nothing about the deck he relied on to give us insight, but even I was beginning to recognize certain cards. I knew there were a few I had seen many times before. What I didn't know was what was holding us back... Was it me? The nature of the cards? Or was it Luc, his magic still too weak to control the cards properly?
Either way, we had to admit to ourselves there was nothing more we could do. We had finally run out of options.
Luc rested his forehead in his palm as he continued to search the cards for answers in vain. I felt my brow droop, my eyes prick with tears. I considered for a moment reaching out to him to comfort him, but resisted. My mood was no better than his. I didn't have the energy to pretend to be optimistic, and any comforting I could have attempted would've surely fallen flat.
Instead I glanced across the room at the little calendar that hung on the wall. We had been careful to mark each day off after it had passed, like prisoners carving into stone walls, tallying their days spent inside. A cold, numbing chill spread through me as I noticed it had been exactly one month since Polly and I had botched the binding spell next door. Four weeks since we had faced our most brutal attack. Thirty days since Luc had to rush in and save us from our mistake. And in all that time, we still hadn't gotten any new information that could actually help us.
To improve our odds, we had to fully restore Luc's powers... But the only way to do that was with Polly's help, and she didn't look like she was interested in helping us any time soon. I had tried to explain that she didn't have to sleep with him—obviously—but she hadn't listened. Or, at least, I didn't think she had; she just hadn't replied.
It wasn't so surprising; she hadn't spoken to me at all since our argument about the night I had spent with Luc. Now she just spent her days sitting on the other side of the room—as far away as she could possibly get in this small apartment—peering over the edge of the blanket she had cocooned herself in, watching our every move. She was especially vigilant while we did our daily readings.
The strain that had been put on our friendship wasn't exactly ideal, but I couldn't bring myself to regret what had happened between Luc and me. He was the sliver of light in the overwhelming darkness, the only thing that made me happy when the rest of my life had turned to complete shit.
But even then...
I turned back and re-examined the infuriatingly familiar spread of cards, clucking my tongue in disappointment. Being negative would do nothing, but my mood was the kind that wanted to poison everything, even if it bit me in the ass. I turned my gaze to Luc. "Is there nothing else we can do?"
He shook his head as it still rested in his hand. I looked at him, and my foul mood dissipated as my heart broke; he just looked so defeated, almost on the verge of tears. It didn't look like he could take much more... I wasn't sure I could either.
It had only been a month, and I was already going stir crazy; if I had to spend another here, I might go completely mad. But how long would we have to stay? Two months? Six months? A year? Forever?
The insidious whisper returned, wondering if I sacrificed myself, if that would be enough to satiate the Beast, and it would just leave Polly and Luc alone. But the logical part fought back again, knowing that the Beast wasn't that discerning, but I hoped that its mysterious master would be... If it truly had a master at all.
A cough snapped me out of my internal conversation. I looked up at Luc first, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking across the room, at Polly. She was standing, the blanket she was usually swathed in jumbled at her feet. For a moment, she just stood there, looking at us, and the look on her face was cautious.
It was plain to see that her internal battle still raged on. She opened her mouth a few times to speak, but she would pause and then close it again. It seemed that she was trying to find the words to say something she wasn't sure she even wanted to say.
"Would..." she managed, finally. "Would it help if you read my cards?"
My mouth fell open as I surveyed her face. Her brow was still knotted, her wide jaw still set, but her cool eyes were no longer hard, like the ice was melting. They shifted to meet mine, and for a moment a strange look of remorse crossed her face. I realized then... she was doing this for me. My bitterness disappeared, and I tried to force a smile to my face that would be genuine.
"Uh, well," Luc stammered, sounding just as surprised. "It might. We can certainly try."
I leapt out of the chair to allow Polly to sit before she could change her mind, and moved to stand beside Luc. Polly cautiously crossed the room, not looking at us, and quietly took her seat across from him.
There was a heavy moment of silence while Luc just took in the situation before him. Polly was allowing herself to trust him, even if just a little. Was it enough to return his powers? Or at least enough control the cards properly?
He cleared his throat and went to work.
Just like before, Luc spread out the cards in front of him in the same intricate array, then once all the cards were down, he began to slowly flip them over, revealing their faces. I cringed each time a repeat from my usual spread showed up, but this time there was definitely some diversity; it wasn't exactly the same, and that alone was enough to make my heart soar with hope.
Luc raised an eyebrow, evidently confused by the new spread before him. "Huh."
"What?" Polly asked in a hushed tone, her eyes wide and expecting.
"This doesn't make sense," Luc said, picking up a few cards and examining them closer. "This can't be right."
"What is it?"
"It's the same as Rachel's spread, except..." He paused and looked up me before looking at Polly. "It says your blood is your enemy."
My brow mashed together as I tried to figure out what it meant. It didn't seem to make sense to Polly either. "What does that even mean?" she asked, her voice back to being sharp with annoyance.
"It means a relative is trying to kill you," Luc said, still looking as confused as ever.
Well, that wasn't so far fetched. I wasn't entirely sure about Polly's family structure, but perhaps there was a family member who disapproved of Lillian and Luc and wanted to make them suffer. After all, I'd had experience with some less than sound-minded family... and that sounded like something a bitter relative would do.
"Okay, you're right, that doesn't make any sense. You know I don't have any living relatives," Polly said, quickly crushing my theory. "I'm the only Greenbury left. My grandparents died before I was born, my parents died when I was a kid, I've never had any aunts or uncles—" her voice cracked suddenly, "—and Lillian is... is..."
"Gone," Luc finished quietly. "Right."
"So, then..." Polly continued, just as softly. "Who?"
There was a heavy moment of silence as we all tried to understand the riddle in the cards. I couldn't keep quiet for long. Something about all this was bothering me...
"Are you sure?" I asked Polly.
She looked up from the cards. "Am I sure about what?"
"Are you sure you're the only Greenbury left?" I said, trying to sound merely curious so not to set her off. "Like, maybe you have a long lost half-uncle or something..."
Polly shook her head. "If I had a long lost anything they would have crawled out of the woodwork after my parents died, when their wills were being decided. I mean, you've seen my house. There's a lot more where that came from." She cocked an eyebrow, like it was that simple.
"But that's not definitive..." I argued.
"Rachel, I think I know more about my family tree than you do," she said, jabbing her thumb at herself. "And anyway, what would my long lost whatever stand to gain from cursing Luc?"
"I don't know..." I muttered back, my shoulders drooping. "But... Maybe... "
She laughed; it was sharp and without humour. "Maybe what? Maybe my parents faked their deaths? Maybe my sister's still alive? Or maybe the cards are just wrong..." Her cool grey eyes began to ice over again as they fell back to Luc. "Maybe I was wrong to trust this stupid fortune teller and his stupid cards..."
"My cards are never wrong," Luc replied, his voice low but hard.
"Well, they're not making a whole lot of sense," Polly said, shifting on the chair so she could cross her legs and fold her arms across her chest.
"They can be vague," he whispered back. "Especially when my power is diminished... Let me... Let me try again..."
Polly's icy eyes were still hard and sharp, but she muttered, "Fine," and let him work.
But the next spread was much like the one before.
"It still says part of your family is trying to kill you.," Luc said, his voice weakening as he slumped in his seat.
I grasped his shoulder and gave it a bracing squeeze.
Polly shook her head hard, her tight red curls bouncing off her face as they whipped around like a flame in the wind. "Bullshit! Everyone in my fucking family is fucking dead! You know that!"
Luc reached across the table towards her. "But Polly..."
She hissed—actually hissed, like an angry cat—and slapped his hand away. "You were there at the funeral! You watched me bury her, whatever was left of her, right next to where I buried my parents!"
"Polly, please—" he continued... but I blocked out the rest as they continued bickering. My mind had stuck on something Polly had said.
"Whatever was left?"
They both stopped and looked at me.
"Huh?" Polly asked, scrunching up her face.
I took a deep breath. "You said 'whatever was left of her.' What did you mean?"
Polly's left eyelid twitched a little, but she said nothing.
My mouth fell open. I knew that tic; she was holding something back. A cold sinking feeling took hold of my insides. "Polly?" I asked, drawing out the syllables of her name. "What did you mean?"
My question seemed to cow her, and her temper cooled. "After her suicide... there wasn't much to bury."
I was speechless. A quick glance at Luc told me he was too.
"But she's definitely dead!" Polly said, suddenly defensive. "I mean, the evidence was pretty conclusive."
"What evidence?" I asked; I realized then that—though I knew what had happened to Lillian preceding her death—I didn't know the details of what had actually happened to her during it.
Polly's icy eyes thawed, their melt brimming at the edge. "There was a lot of blood at the scene. And... and chunks of..." She swallowed hard. "Skin. But no body..."
Luc inhaled sharply. Had he not heard the details either? "No body?"
"Not there," she replied. "But there was a video. A security camera on the East Bridge, of a girl with blonde hair and blood-stained pyjamas, jumping..." Her voice shook again. "Jumping off the edge. The footage was grainy, but it was definitely her. They found most of the pyjamas a few days later. And a foot in a shoe. That's what I buried."
All Luc managed was a "Fuck..."
Polly ignored him and continued, looking down at her knees. "At the time, they said she must have had some kind of major psychotic episode. But—" She gave her head a little shake. "But knowing what I do now, I guess that was the Beast's last attack..."
My stomach clenched sharply, and for a second I was glad I hadn't eaten much that day, otherwise, it would've definitely come up. If this all ended badly, if the Beast ever found some way to break the barrier... "Is that how it happens?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Is that what it does to you?"
I looked at Luc, thinking he would know, but he was staring off into space like he saw something horrible through the wall.
I glanced back at Polly. She had noticed his tense expression as well, her brow folded together.
"She's definitely dead, Luc," she said, but then her weak voice peaked. "...Right?"
A swell of cold ran through me as a half-formed idea ran through my mind.
"Not human, but..." Luc said, mostly to himself. He ran his hands through his hair in a panic like he was trying to physically sort out the details in his head. "But... what if... she... It..."
A heavy knock at the door made us all jump; we all turned to stare at it. Then Luc glanced back at us, worry in his wide eyes... He was obviously not expecting company.
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