Rosemary Johns - Rebel Academy - Curse

Ten hours? Twelve?

If it was the early hours of Saturday, then it was half way through our mission, half way towards our failure, and half way towards Fox’s death.

This was my fault and responsibility. My dad, Loki, had taught me many things — how to hunt, swim, and lie under pressure of hexing (in typical dad-son bonding) — but also when to accept that I'd messed up.

In that case, why did the light still blind me like I'd seized a true moment of chaos?

My pulse thundered in my ears, and I rested my sweating forehead against the wall. Even though the tiny cell was like a furnace, the glowing golden walls were shockingly cold. The jerks probably didn't want the prisoners to fry, before they dragged them out to burn alive or however the sons of witches executed traitors.

I drew in a ragged breath.

The walls were too close...if I could just breathe in this damn heat...too close...

The walls were arched and low like a cave. Magenta, Bask, and I had disappeared in the hold of the Letter Magic like puppets on an invisible thread and reappeared alone in this oven of a cell.

I slammed my fist against the wall. My knuckles cracked , and pain radiated up my arm. I could’ve been bound in Willoughby's cursed silk suit, which crushed his mind, body and Soul because the Letter Magic crushed me in the same way. The pain was dulled, and I barely felt the way that Bask grabbed my arm, examining each finger in turn to check that they still bent or Magenta's questioning, as she slipped her arm around my waist.

The Letter Magic was like a gentle noose, which tightened every hour. I reached out to my two brothers, Fenrir and Jormungand, who'd been pushed deeper inside me than they'd ever been. Panic rose at our separation.

I'd never been alone before .

Fenrir howled, scrabbling at my mind, as Jormungand's glittering coils restlessly wrapped around my insides. They were as caged as me. I ran my uninjured hand through my aquamarine hair. Why had I ever craved to be my only personality?

We were triplets. This separation was death.

I whined.

Once, Loki and I had been camping on the Blue Ridge mountains in Georgia. We'd hunted in the forests and fished in the large lakes. Well, I'd mostly practiced on my guitar, and Loki had done the chores, watching me like every wrong note and chord was a miracle because of the joy the stumbling songs brought me.

On the World Tree, it was because he'd been able to provide me with that happiness, after so much despair.

"Why, look at that, my little stallion has become a musician." Loki had smiled, fondly. "It appears that you can't buy happiness, but a guitar is reasonably priced."

Yet one night, Loki had gone missing in a storm that'd flashed jagged lightning from the black sky and rumbled thunder across the blue haze of the mountains. When he'd dashed back through the treeline, soaked and shaking, he'd snatched me to my feet and dragged me from our camp.

I'd tried to pull away, but his grip had been like steel. "Hey, what about my guitar and...?"

"Leave it." He hadn't even looked around as he'd yanked me after him into a crevice between the rocks. I'd slipped on my belly after him into the muddy cave. "Trust me."

And I had with every breath in me.

Yet I'd just abandoned my guitar and meager belongings to whoever had been hunting us because I'd known the look . On Bor’s beard, I'd had centuries to learn dad's pale and haunted expression when the witch followers of Bacchus had been close.

I’d reached up to my neck, closing my fingers around the silver plectrum that Loki had gifted me. It’d been all I had left, but it’d been enough because Loki had been safe.

"Who is it?" I’d demanded, as the wind had driven the rain in stinging tears across my cheeks.

Loki hadn’t appeared to hear me, staring out at the darkness intently, before pushing his shoulder against a fallen boulder and rolling it across the entrance.

"Dad, wait... stop ..." I'd scrabbled at the slippery boulder, which had shut us into the damp, earthy darkness.

He'd buried us alive.

Loki's long fingers had settled over mine. "Would you call down Ragnarok? I'm sorry, but we must remain hidden and quiet. Can you do that for me?"

I'd swallowed and forced myself to nod.

"The leader of the Bacchus Cult herself...that fucking bully," I'd startled at Loki's whispered snarl; he'd never sworn in front of me before, "is leading the hunt tonight. I'm masking our presence with magic, but they've learned many of my tricks by now."

His worry had threaded through mine.

How long would it be before they caught us?

I'd rubbed over the plectrum compulsively. The stench of the cave had overpowered me, and the wind had beat, beat, beat against the rock. When thunder had rolled overhead, I’d jumped.

The black had suffocated me. I'd struggled to draw in breaths.

How many times had we hidden? Why had this felt different?

"You promised not to cage me, but I've always been in one," I'd whispered, fiercely. It'd been kind of easier to say the dark, twisting things inside me, when I'd only had to stare into darkness, rather than into Loki's face. Except, then he'd shifted closer, and I'd been able to see the gleam of his anguished eyes. I'd wished that I’d been able to claw back the words. But it was too late. "You're the one who snatched the chaos moment. This is your fault ."

"I know," Loki had answered with a soft sadness. He'd smoothed out the furrow of my frown with the pad of his thumb like he'd always done ever since I'd been tiny. "Look at that, my own words bite me in the ass. I guess that's being a parent." His smile had been crooked and then it’d slipped. "A long time ago, I set the cult's sacrifice free, and ever since, their god has possessed them with a frenzy to hunt me and turn me into a bloody replacement. By the Norns, I'd give myself up in a moment, if it’d keep you safe."

I'd gasped, wrapping my arms around Loki like that'd hold him to me forever.

He couldn't leave me...monstrous...alone...

"Don't go," my voice had wavered, and I’d bitten my lip. "I don't care if I'm in a cage, as long as we're in it together."

Loki's smile had been more genuine this time. "I'll remind you of that the next time that you’re whining about my cooking." Then he'd stroked my hair, cupping the back of my head. "My sacrifice wouldn't help anyway because Bacchus didn’t merely curse me but also my descendants ." Then he’d pulled back, and his expression had been fierce. "But remember, it's only a curse if we let it be one. Omens and runes, I swear that I've done everything to give you a life that was blessed, instead. And I won't ever let them take you."

Yet eventually, the witches had caught me and taken me away from Loki.

Where was he now, when I was truly caged again?

I snarled, and my eyes burned. Had the witches caught Loki as well and Professor Bacchus simply didn't know?

Loki had spent his life protecting me. The witches in the academy were keeping me as a hostage to trap him as well. If those assholes thought that I'd ever help them hunt my own dad, then they knew nothing about real love between a parent and child. They’d made a mistake cursing his descendants as well. They’d thought they were punishing him in a way that never ended, but a kid would battle to protect their dad just the same as he did for me.

I'd find a way to continue everything that Loki had taught me.

I'd destroy their asses.

Cool kisses feathered down my neck, drawing me back to myself and the furnace of the cell. Magenta tightened her arm around my waist.