Cerise was practically impossible to keep up with as she sprinted down the maze of roads and sidestreets, her cloak trailing out behind her like a scarlet cape. Even in her platform boots she was wickedly fast, darting down the cobblestone streets and cutting behind buildings. People gasped as she rushed by them, the wind created by the wake of her cape causing clothing to rustle and papers to fly out of the grasp of innocent bystanders. She seemed to know the town of Book End like the back of her hand, not even pausing to check the street signs or building for familiarity before making sharp turns.
The rest of the group was not doing as well as their leader, with the exception of Hunter. The huntsman had learned to run before he could even walk without toppling over; it was a necessary skill to have when one was always on alert for damsels in distress. While he wasn't as fast as the cloaked girl, he was able to stay close enough behind her to make out which way she had gone. Bumping on his back was Ashlynn, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck in a way that couldn't have been comfortable for either of them. Even though she wasn't running herself, the piggyback-ride was obviously taxing for her, and her sunkissed face had gone a shade pale.
Finally, Cerise came to her destination, skidding to a stop as her friends huffed and puffed from behind her. Her face fell as she looked over at a large fountain and saw the person she'd chased down; she was not looking forward to this conversation.
Sparrow Hood sat on the edge of the town fountain with his usual crew of Merry Men. They hadn't been hard to find at all, since Cerise's sensitive nose could pick up the lingering aroma of Axeman bodyspray hung about them from miles away. The rest of the group didn't look very pleased to see the Merry Men either. Hunter even let out an audible groan, but that might have been due to Ashlynn daintily slipping off his back (and not-so-daintily kicking his shin by accident).
"Was he really your first choice?" Raven whispered to her friend, and Cerise nodded.
"He was the closest. Besides, Sparrow will be the most likely to spread any information we have around. He isn't really known to keep quiet." she said, tugging her hood farther over her hairline. Cerise wasted no time in marching up to Sparrow, who straightened when he saw her approaching.
"Cerise, in-the-Hood, YEAH!" He shouted in greeting, jumping up on both feet and striking and exuberant pose on the fountain. He hit a power chord on his ever-present guitar that received a few whistles and cheers from his friends. Cerise looked up at him with an exaggerated eye roll; she and Sparrow were distant cousins, but they had grown up together as kids and Cerise was so used to Sparrow's behavior that she'd be worried if he didn't scream every other sentence. Her returned her look with a smirk. "What's up? Are you here to finally admit that you're in love with me?"
"Ew! Don't be gross, Sparrow. I just want to talk to you." Cerise said, grimacing at the thought of locking lips with the fedora'd rocker.
"You wanna 'talk'?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, turning his head to shoot a grin to his friends. She pulled her hood farther over her eyes in embarrassment, and looked down at the ground. Even though she was more confident now that she had been at the start of the school year, the feeling of people mocking her still made Cerise want to go 'poof'.
Since going 'poof' wasn't an option at the moment, Cerise chose the second best one. Grabbing Sparrow by the studded collar of his vest, she yanked him off the fountain and started walking across the courtyard with him in tow. If Sparrow tried to struggle away, Cerise didn't notice. Either her strength was too great, or Sparrow didn't want to tear custom vest in an attempt to get away. "Yes, talk. Alone."
"What's there to talk about," he croaked, his voice an octave higher than normal.
Cerise cast a glance over at her friends, who were watching her with quizzical looks. Turning back to her cousin, she leaned closer into him, speaking quickly and softly. "You heard about Blondie, right?"
"Uh, yeah I did! That's pretty much all anyone's talking about on MyChapter. Jeez, Cerise, is that all you came to tell me? You could've saved yourself the troub-"
He cut himself off with a sharp 'ouch' quickly after Cerise elbowed him in the side "Of course not, featherhead; I wouldn't spread gossip around, especially not to you! It's something important, alright?" Cerise continued as Sparrow muttered a few choice words under his breath.
"A few of us are really worried that Blondie died because she decided to start her destiny. Nothing should have gone wrong, and everyone knows that the Bears in Blondie's suburbs have been vegetarians for generations. They have really strict animal control too, it doesn't make sense. There might be… a possibility that something weird is happening to stories. We thought we should tell people not to pursue their destinies until the case is over."
Sparrow was rubbing his side "And why tell me?"
"Why not," She sighed after Sparrow raised an eyebrow at her, his smile slowly finding its way back to his face. "Fine. Because, contrary to popular believe I don't completely hate you."
"I do." Hunter piped up, his voice flat. He and the others had followed Cerise and Sparrow, standing a respectful two feet away. "I hate you. I just wanted to make that clear."
Hunter wrapped a muscular arm over Ashlynn's shoulders, who released a frustrated harrumph in response, and the two boys exchanged a glare. Sparrow turned to Cerise again, his back to the couple. Apparently, Cerise thought to herself, they still had some bad blood between them. She never knew why the two suddenly began to hate each other, but she figured that Ashlynn might have something to do with it. Every time Sparrow was near the couple, Hunter suddenly became 'Mr. Protective'.
"What I meant was," Sparrow continued, "Why should I care? I'm not even doing that whole destiny thing. Destiny is ov-er-rated, YEAH!"
Raven spoke up. "Could you at least spread the word? Even with Cerise's spelltastic running skills, we won't be able to tell everyone fast enough. Don't you know anyone who could be really hurt by this?"
Sparrow's eyes widened, and a light seemed to switch on in his head. "Duchess." He said, and was over to his guitar case in a three sharp strides. He tucked his instrument away in it and returned to where the gang was standing, calling over his shoulder to his band members. "I'm going to go find Duchess, men. I'll be back later."
While his words were definitive, his voice wobbled as he spoke.
As the others followed the guitarist, Dexter leaned into Raven, whispering into her ear. "Do you know what Duchess's destiny is? I know I should know by now, but I can't remember. Isn't she going to be cursed to dance forever?"
"No that's… oh, wait I totally forgot her name! It's on the tip of my tongue, too… Her mom owns the Red Shoes dance club though, I know that." Raven whispered back, and Dexter nodded in agreement. "To be honest, I don't know Duchess's destiny either," she replied, "I've always wanted to ask her, but talking to her is always awkward and I've taken such a long time to ask that it would feel even more awkward…"
Raven trailed off as she noticed that the space between her and Dexter had become practically non-existent. They were shoulder to shoulder, and their heads were ducked in so close that their noses almost touched. She could literally count his eyelashes. As she felt Dexter's fingers accidentally brush her forearm she took an exaggerated step back and busied herself by coming out her hair, which was still frizzy from the run. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dexter blush and shove his hands into his pockets.
The group found Duchess by side of Faybelle Thorn, peering at a few flyers on the large windows of The Twelve Sisters' Dance Emporium. She was standing on the wooden toes of her ballet slippers, trying to get a better look at a one flyer that was too high for her to see, even with the extra inches in height she had on most of the girls in school. When Sparrow saw her, he quickly broke off from the group and called out her name, waving one arm in the air.
Raven and Dexter started to follow him, but Ashlynn caught Raven's wrist before she could interrupt the two. "I don't think that's a good idea, we should let them talk it out on their own." She said, shaking her head.
"He might need our help," Raven countered, looking the princess dead in the eye.
"I don't think so; Sparrow and Duchess are really good friends, they don't need you or anyone else to talk for them. They'll understand each other." As Ashlynn spoke, Duchess's eyes narrowed and she jabbed a finger into Sparrow's chest. Raven raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms and smirking her trademark 'I told you so' expression.
Ashlynn just looked unimpressed, "You're still not going over there."
Cerise shuffled in a semicircle, trying not to eavesdrop on Sparrow and Duchess even though the tips of her furry ears twitched instinctively. She tried to focus on something else instead, like the delicious, wafting aroma of dragon-fillets being broiled in the restaurant across the street. There was another scent in the air she couldn't place, heavy and somewhat putrid, like chemicals left to fester in the sun. Maybe someone had forgotten to empty a dumpster?
Cerise began to zone out, her eyes cast downwards at her feet. The thought of rebelling was already such an astounding concept to her, one that opened so many doors, one that could unite her family for good. No more hiding, no more secrets. But Blondie was a Royal, the kind with a happy ending, and she was someone who didn't stray from her predestined path as far as Cerise knew. Why had her story ended so gruesomely? Did she try to back out of it at the last minute, rebelling and throwing everything off balance? Or did Blondie do everything by the book and still end up inside the belly of a bear? Cerise preferred the former; if Blondie had done everything like she should've, yet somehow ended dead anyway Cerise didn't want to know what happened to Rebels who tried to tempt the fates.
She wondered how her story would differ, if it would at all. What if the axeman struck her instead of the wolf? What if she was eaten as well, suffocating inside a wolf's gut without a Huntsman to rescue her or just simply chewed and swallowed? What if… What if she was the one doing the eating? Cerise blinked at the thought, not completely repulsed by it. It was certainly possible. She had inherited her father's abilities as a skin-walker, even though her control over the powers was practically nonexistent. That could be aided by carrying a wolf pelt, but the thought of wearing the carcass of her fellow animal made her sick. Sicker than the idea of devouring her beloved grandmother, to whom she had always been close.
Cerise furrowed her brow in concern, not liking where these thoughts were going. Thinking about all this death was probably really unhealthy for her, she rationalized. That's why the idea of slurping rubbery tendons down her throat as if they were a bowl of linguine seemed so vivid. The taste of warm and tangy blood, spreading through every cranny of her mouth, was more of a memory than a musing and she felt herself salivate at the thought. But it was the idea of sinking her teeth deep into a fresh, spongy slab of meat and feeling the power of her jaw as she ground the flesh into a pulp was the most tantalizing. Cerise could smell it, the promise of a feast. She inhaled deeply, and let out a shuddering breath to calm her nerves, now sharper than ever.
Mmm… Nerves. She wondered what the texture of those was like.
A hand on her shoulder snapped her away from her tasty daydreaming, and she suddenly noticed a that there was an inch-long strand of drool dangling from the corner of her mouth. Cerise frantically wiped her face, ignoring the pounding of her heart and the burn in her cheeks from embarrassment, or perhaps excitement.
Ashlynn peered around at Cerise, her face pressed into a concerned frown. Tucked under her arm was a pink box, sloppily tied with a ribbon and splattered with tape. "Cerise?"
Cerise turned sheepishly to face the others who were, to her horror, all staring at her. "Um, y-yeah?"
"We just got a hext from Briar, she said they're ready to meet us back at the Haberdashery. Are you ready to go, or do you want to tell anyone else?" Ashlynn's voice was soft and prying, somehow only making Cerise feel worse.
Cerise shook her hooded head. "Telling Sparrow isn't enough. We can't just stop at one person and call it a day."
"To be fair," Dexter chimed in "Sparrow told Duchess and Duchess told Faybelle, and we just told Hopper, so that's not a bad amount."
Hopper had been here? Cerise started to ask when that had happened but promptly remembered the few minutes that had passed while she was thinking about carnage, and quickly snapped it closed.
"That's still not enough. We have to at least see Poppy, she could warn all her customers to be careful." Cerise said, not meeting anyone's eye. They had to lean in to hear her mutter the reply, which in turn made her shrink back into her cloak.
Raven took a step toward her, giving her shoulder comforting squeeze. "That sounds like a hexellent idea, Cerise. It's on the way anyway, it's not like we'll have to run a marathon again."
Casting her eyes up through her blunt bangs, Cerise looked at her friend and nodded hesitantly. Raven always seemed to know how to make her feel a little more confident. Maybe it was the confidence that radiated from Raven herself, so sure of her own dreams even when most of the school resented her for it. Turning to the others, Cerise nodded again, this time firmly. "So that's the plan. Is that okay with everyone?"
A tiny chorus of sures and yeahs rang out, and together the group turned on their heels and began to head towards The Tower Hair Salon. The pace was reduced to a brisk walk instead of the previous sprint, and Cerise had to consciously remind herself to slow down because she was the only one in the group with a speed-enhancing cloak. Raven walked at Cerise's side, their steps synchronizing.
"You spaced out back there, Cerise. What are you thinking about?" Raven asked, her tone thankfully blithe.
A tiny nag pulled at Cerise's heartstrings. She really wanted to confide in someone about what had just happened to her, but how could she possibly phrase it in a way that didn't traumatize her friends? Instead of coming clean, she met Raven's gaze to put her friend at ease. After a moment's hesitation, Cerise shrugged.
"Lunch."