Part 2: A year and a day
Chapter 6
Wisty ran through the halls the sound of marching and shouts closing in all sides. She panicked, clarity was not with her. Thoughts that she had failed and the city would be a rebellion if word got out of her discovery.
"Whit!" She screamed not caring who really heard her as she stumbles around like a child awaken from a nightmare. "Damn it Whit! Where are you?!" She needed him in that moment to keep a level head and still tell her everything was going to be fine.
Her voice died on the third attempt to call for her brother, startled by booming voice behind her. "Halt, put your hands where I can see them."
She turned to see the scours of the voice, a tall muscle build man in full riot gear. It was clear the police outside didn't expect them to find anything and started without their own investigation. Her stomach twisted knowing that she couldn't keep her discovery a secret, she couldn't let a dangerous magic wielder run rampant.
"Wait aren't you Wisteria Allgood." The man said in a tone that would be used to calm a wild animal "I found the other Allgood." He spoke in to the radio trying to maintain the same coddling tone, but she could sense the nervousness in the grown man's tone.
There was a crackled response on the other end, the man eyeing her with growing agitation. Wisty felt pangs of anger sparking inside her, glancing about the blank walls of the hospital she wondered how quickly she could traverse hall and not getting noticed.
"Okay Miss, I need to escort you out….for your safety." The officer said been as clam and formal as situation permitted.
Wisty gave a long heavy sigh. "It's okay I know where the door is." She returned the civil tone, the quickly turning to the exit.
"Miss you just can't." The man fiercely griped her wrist.
She inhaled sharply trying to mask the pain, she was over with the day. Then with barely a thought she escaped the man's hold on her by turning into a humming-bird.
"Miss!" The officer shouted her as she zips about him, before head down one of the hall her little bird body bee lining for the nearest exit.
Once outside Wisty circled the area looking for Whit, spotting him encircled by a group by a group of police and reporter on either side of him. Wisty zipped down will willing herself to change back, and flopped to the ground like a dead fish. She could only gasp as she hit the ground, the massive group backing away in what could be considered as collective shock. Before, swarming about her like ants to sugar.
"Out of the way!" Whitford and a couple of officers voices echoed through the crowd "Make room."
"Wist?!" Whit broke through the crowed "What's going on?" he shouted see his little sister stagger to her feet.
Wisteria coughed looking at the crowed around her "I'm-I'm fine." She wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck.
"What happened?" Whit whispered into her ear, griping her shoulders leading out of the crowed.
Wisty snarled at her brother for treating her like a child "I said I'm fine!" she pulled away from as a camera flash went off.
Sadly, the sibling's troubles only started there. After an embarrassing walk escorted by a large squad cops, there was hours of interrogation and post investing to prove their findings. Before leaving the rest of the detective work to the professionals, this would have been fine if not for a mere week later.
When word had gotten out to the news, including the intruder was a female and use magic to move about unseen. This lead to a flood of false reports and many girls and women, including Wisty's own mother, being sent in for questioning.
The tension in the city was electric, as "The hunt for the witch doctor." The media turned a rather important investigation, into the hands of protesters from every belief even some One-isms poking out of cracks.
Then as it all went silent went, a report from the hospital in all started the debacle. In the transition area between the intensive care unit and the pediatric one. There was a little boy how became comatose after a Lost One failed to completely consumed his soul. A few days after the unknown visitor's intrusion, he woke up much of the shock to the specialist that said his survival was nonexistent.
Investigations concluded an unknown injection wound at the base of spine was the only reason for his recovery. With was impossible to do, since the boy was tied down with so many machines just to keep him breathing. Yet, after a firm reminder that the intruder was a magic user impossibility had to be thrown out the window.
The Allgoods, not even made aware of such important information were shell-shocked by the people's reaction.
"Save the good doctor!" and "Wickedness stole his voice!" painted the city in everything from crudely made poster to radio announcements.
Wisty could practically see the dived the scandal created as she made her way for a scheduled council meeting. She stopped her motorcycle caught sight of piece of graffiti that she was seeing more of as each day pasted.
A hand roughly the size of an actual hand with a marking in the middle of its palm. The in palm of the one Wisty found etched into a store window was a perfect spiral, but she'd seen ones with different types of stars and eyes.
She placed her head with in the outline, and felt the thinnest strand of magic. She gasped her hand flying up to her scarf rubbing her neck. Quickly she took a picture of the hand planning to show it to Mrs. Highsmith to see what these hands really were.
A brief ride later she enter the council hall late. Giving an impressive of what seemed to be a heated debate between her brother and orange turtleneck wearing Terence.
"The boy is practically brain-dead besides eye contact he refuse to make any type of communication." Terence said his hands gripping the edges of the podium like an old-time politician.
Whit shook his head at Terence staring him down like a misinformed child. "I wouldn't consider walking around and making clearly thought out movement's brain-dead." His voice calm and innocent, a smile painting his features that said 'yeah I called that bluff.' To his opponent.
Terence grip tightened and Wisty could see that the straight-laced punk had forgotten. Her brother was still in contacted with the hospital staff thanks to Janine. "Still it's idiotic that you of all people Whitford that you want civil immunity for a terrorist." Terence put on shocked faced, whisper of shock rippling around the crowed.
"Using the term terrorist mean the action of the intruder were meant to send a message of terror!" Wisty made her way on the stand conveniently shutting down Terrance, with nothing more a definition of his favorite buzzword. "Now that we've got that out-of-the-way, you all should have gotten copies of two proposals." She turn to the crowed of kids that made up the rest of the council, ignoring Terence's retreat. "I'd like input and votes by the end of the meeting." She said looking thought a provided agenda of today's meeting.
The sound of papers fluttering indicating that most of the room didn't the two packet ahead of time. "What's got you high-strung?" Whispered her brother noticing her stiff behavior, leaning in trying to gauge that was wrong.
"Rough day…" She didn't want to her brother, and opted for a half-truth. The day was fine she just wanted to be over, and deep jittery feeling sad if she didn't plow through it she'd do something amazingly stupid.
Whit narrowed his eye at his sister, gaze pinpoint on the scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. "How long are going to wear those scarfs?" When she didn't answer he reached out to pull the cloth off her neck.
She violently jerked away from his touch "Stop it!" her eyes went wide. What was meant to be a whisper for him not to see what she had under the piece of fabric, now echoed in the large room all eyes on her. "Yes." She quickly points to a girl who looked like she was going to ask a question.
"Um." The girl looked around her face showing the embarrassment Wisty wished she could show. "These proposals work really well together, can't we just do both?"
"I don't see anything wrong with that." Whit answered only for another person to stand straight up.
"But, if we sell the land won't that mean we have to send the carnival away!" They shout a worry look on her face. Wisty's eyes winded flattening her hands against the wood of the podium, something about the Atlas Carnival leaving gave a feeling from years back. She had accidentally let go of balloon, her heart sinking as it raised drifting to the sky. She cried the day she let go of the balloon, would she feel anything if the circus went away.
"More reason to put the land up for auction. If anyone's been to that circus recently it's turning into a proper" Terrance made her head shot up and narrowing her eyes at his smug expression "and illegal settlement." The others started to mummer even her brother pondered the statement.
Wisty gritted her teeth, at the silent accusations he was making. "You want to evict them?" from both the officers and media investigation of the carnival couldn't find any evident connecting the carnival to the incident in the hospital.
Terrence raised his arms in the surrendering motion "I wouldn't say that Wisteria." He says in mock innocents "If they want to stay, they could buy up the abandoned districts."
Whit's and Wisty's eyes met unsure if that was even possible.
"But, who know what people like them would do with it?" continued Terrence with a sneer "historically carnivals like that tend to lead to crime, anyone remember Coney Island?"
Wisty's face flushed with anger 'what was his problem?' She looked a Terrence, touching her scarf lightly she relaxed. Maybe there was actually a good reason to send the circus away, but it would kill her to admit it out loud.
A boy stood up suspicion in his voice "Um where did the Atlas Carnival come from?"
'Everywhere.' Wisty thought, but continued to keep her mouth shut if told the council about the little boys from the desert. Everyone even her brother would jump to the worst conclusions, she scanned the crowed than stopping a distant pair of eyes. Color of old rust with flicks of soft yellow, which sliced into her with a near physical force.
She turned an awful felling in chest, a rotten mix of shame and embarrassment "Th-this has gotten off topic." She turns to audience, moving away from podiums. "Let's call in a day leave you votes in the box by the door." She started to move to the back of the room, only two things in the half-way dispersing crowed.
The first thing she noticed was that almost every other girl in the room was wearing a scarf, it made her feel strange to see so many copying her. The reason she wore the scarf around her neck, wasn't what the surrounding girl probably thought it meant. It made her want to rip off the stupid strip of cloth a scream 'see! This why I'm wearing this ugly thing!' But she wouldn't, not in front of her brother who would flip out and worry. This was a problem she was going to solve on her own.
The other thing was that he was gone, the ring master of the Atlas Carnival, Nikolas Ansel fricking Forest was gone. He sat her there among skeptical children, watching Terrace border line called his circus nothing more than a hive of criminal activity. He watched her, a fellow magic user, who he'd invited to enjoy herself at his carnival, and didn't raise a hand to defend him.
Walking out in the street looking for a shred of Nikolas's presence, she knew that if the circus left it would devastate her. Because she knew it would be her fault, not some vote on a proposal. What was worse that he was a wizard in a place of power, if the past has taught her anything. Wizards that held sway over a group, don't forgive easily.
After an hour of uneventful searching, she went back to her apartment. The setting sun casting the living room in an orange glow, most of the cats sleeping in a fuzzy pile or sunbathing. She stretch out on a chair closets the widow with the view of the skyline over the carnival.
Carefully, and little self-consciously she unwrapped the scarf and looked at her reflection in the dark glass of the window. She traced her fingers along the dark marks and jagged feathery designs.
"What are you?" she asked the tattoo like construction that was blazon across her sink. For the past couple weeks she done almost everything in her powers even burning the flesh around it, which was an awful idea. To purge the clearly magical mark from her, fearing some Family like cult getting its hand on her.
She looked away from her reflection and to the skyline, she often debated going back to the carnival. To just simply ask what happen to her, but couldn't will her do it.
She was afraid and tired of being wrong. Tired of be betrayed, she deeply wanted in this strange world full of enemies, that the city has one faithful ally.
In some way she'd hope, the Atlas Carnival would be that ally, they learn to survive outside The One's grasp. Traveled and picking up traces of cultures from lands she'll never see in her lifetime. Along with ideas and things from a time long-lost buried under The One's deeds.
She laid her face against window sky finally going dark, her eyes focused on the space above the circus. Giving a painfully exhausted sigh resting her eyes, letting the thoughts the day slip from her mind.
Wisty eyes opened slowly, groaning out of her rest. She turned to the phone that was blaring out from her kitchen.
"Hello?" she answered barely holding on the phone.
She pulled the phone from her ear as a voice came through "Hey Wisty?"
"Ross?" she glanced over to the electronic clock in corner "It's four in the morning!" anger giving her a fresh wave of energy.
"Yah I know." Ross responded clearly distracted.
Wisteria let of an exasperated groan not wanting desperately to go back to sleep.
Ross voice bleat from the phone "Wait don't hang up!"
"Then what do you want?" she yelled at the phone.
"Turn on the TV to the news! Something really cool is going on."
"K." she sighed in exhaustion before hanging the phone up.
Racking her fingers through the snarls of red hair she entered her bedroom, she stared at the blank television. Quickly and uncaringly she flipped to the news, laying down on her bed with a piteous huff.
"Well that's an important question." She shot straight up hearing Nikolas's attention grabbing voice fill the room.
She rubbed her eyes just make it wasn't some sleep deprived hallucination, but there he was leaning back idly in his seat smiling at the talk show to his left.
He looked around the set not actively looking anything, just staring at something the camera wasn't showing. "The choice of the Titian Atlas for the symbol for our carnival, has origins more in our philosophy." He answered the question she missed "One day did a vote, Prometheus, Sisyphus and a few others where in the running, eventually Atlas won."
"Your circus must run under an interesting philosophy?" The interviewer lend in and Wisteria knew what trap the ring master fall in to, it was one her and Whit had experienced firsthand. After the questioning was over they'd chop up the interview so it convey that ever they wanted.
This live version was just a formality.
Nikolas made a minuet eye roll, before putting on a heart melting "Oh it's nothing to concerning." His voice was laugh "After all you are getting distracted for the person you really wanted to interview." He tilted to the side gesturing.
The camera started to pull back to reveal the old man from the movie tent. Thin bony hands clasped together face turned to the floor in obvious boredom.
The look on interviewer's face a smile masked of shock and bitter embarrassment, it was hilarious for Wisty watch. "Oh yes, Mr. Pashan, along with being a director of several movies, you actually got your start in poetry."
The name did surprisingly rang a bell to Wisty. The Pashan's where a group of a father and three sons that directed and sometimes produced long and clichéd horror movie sagas. She lend into the TV screen trying to determine which one the old man was, the father was obvious choice but, then were where his kids?
'The One you idiot.' Apart of her mind sniped at her, one of the targets of his occupation where celebrities.
Pashan words clipped through the air in a short "This is correct."
"Have you made any new pieces?" the interviewer asked with any expectant grin.
"One, song now." Wisty shivered at the cold and bored response, it was clear that he was done with interview.
"Really?"
Pashan nodded, Nikolas rubbing his bony back with a look of utter human empathy. Wisty didn't know that people could do that anymore, just to feel happy or sad for someone without judging them.
"Yes he wrote it during The One's time, it's quite an epic. If you like I could play it for you?" The contempt in Nickolas tone when openly mentioned The One was a breath of fresh air. If they kept that one line in when it came time to edit the footage, one could ever see him as an enemy.
"Oh of course." Nikolas calmly smiled, at the show host's answer. Standing up in a fluid practically rehearsed movement. The ring master stood up his stride followed by the camera to a small electric piano and metal chair, haphazardly place at the edge of the set. He sat down at the piano testing the keys blinking curiously at the synthesized sound, his hand going to the dashboard of settings head tilted to one side as if he was trying to hear something in the distances.
Once satisfied with his instrument, he started to play a soft lullaby note dancing into a fully formed piece. Wisty laid down exhaustion over ruling any interest, she kept listening as Nickolas began singing. It didn't surprise her, the way Nickolas sings it was operatic and alluring a perfect match for a person whose job was to command the attention of a crowed.
As she drifted deeper in slumber so did the words of song, leaving behind the emotion in the singer's voice. It was raw, angry and sorrowful, it did bring her mind back to a time when she was in the Resistance. She drifted envisioning that she was in Garfunkel's, crashing on a dust ridden couch after a long day of fighting and sneaking around.
The morning came sooner than she'd wished, after rushing to make herself presentable for the ever-present and judging gaze of public. With a new black scarf tied firmly around her neck, she jetted for the government building where Whit was already waiting for her. Her stomach twisted seeing a whole squadron of police cars setting in front of the building.
Stopping her bike she run inside slamming the doors wide open "What happened?" she recoiled as her voice reverberated thunderously throughout the packed room.
Whit emerged from the crowed his hand raised, like Wisty had become some rampaging beast that needed to becalmed "Someone came in and graffiti in our office." His statement sounded soothing but was unbelievably blunt.
"And you're calm about this?" she asked in disbelief.
Whit let out a sigh and rubbing her shoulders as he led her to a less packed corner of the room "Because thankful that's all they did, security cameras caught the whole thing." He said in a relaxed and surprisingly worried tone.
Wisty's mind was a whirl of thoughts. The strange symbols popping up around the city resurfacing through the mental murk.
Whit gave an encouraging smile patting her shoulder "Wist don't worry this isn't the hospital, we're going to get the ones that did this." A chill went through her when he mentioned to hospital. Could the same person be behind this?
"Let me see it." She sounded far away looking for the door to the office they shared.
"It okay." But, Wisteria had made her way out of his grasp and heading to their office.
Wisty wasn't sure what she going to see when she opened the door to the office. Some part of her wanted see the strange markings that littered the dark corners of the city, or a simple 'red heads suck' scrawled on the wall for some mundanity.
What she saw made her body jolt and mind swim. On the wall behind their desk was a perfect circle take up all the available space. Black paint smudged from poorly rushed cleaning and repainting, a short phrase surviving the shotty repair. That made Wisteria shout and scream profanities each time her eyes fell upon the thick blocky lettering.
'What once was One now is Two the power stolen bold and true.'
Wisty spun around hearing her brother's footsteps behind her. "You think this is okay!?" she pointed at wall with a lit finger.
Whit gave a sound half way between a cough and a groan closing the door to the office. "It just some stupid vandalism, we'll get it clean and the people how did this will get arrested." He answered tried to calm her.
"It's not about that Whit!" She glared at him leaning against the desk "It's about that, do people really believe that?" she point to the wall again, and Whit turned to phrase that to could of meant many things.
He looked at her sadly finally seeing what she did "We're not The One, if that's what you're asking."
"Then what are we doing wrong?" she squeezed her eyes shut, frustrated tears pooling at corners of her eyes. "Are job is heal the city with M and love, and it falling apart!"
"Well we have a lot to help people recover from, if there's ever going to be able see magic as good."
It was true, between The Wizard King, The One and his son and even Wisty at some points, the majority of the city saw magic as destructive and a tool for evil. Along with no way to regulate who did and did not get powers without excising everyone which wasn't going to happen.
"Then what's the plan?" she asked unashamed to ask her big brother for help on this problem.
Whit rubbed at the corners of his mouth before answering "I was thinking of an Arts festival, we have people fix up the old art gallery and museum. Accept new pieces to be but on display, y'know since the old is." Guilt flickered in his eyes for a moment "Gone."
Wisty nodded remembering of a fond memory when they had done something similar, inwardly filched remembering that a certain snake was there. "That sound great, the people can reconnect and maybe get some closer." She keep a hopeful tone, after all that was in the past. "Until we get the verdict on those two proposals."
"Yeah and we can get the Circus's help to."
"Why?"
"Because, as wrong as it sound, they know how to sell magic to people."
'Sell?' As the word echoed in her mind it did sound dirty, magic wasn't a material good. It costed nothing but, was worth the world to her. She couldn't or for the sake of being right wouldn't imagine any physical thing she'd give her magic for.
"Think of it like this." Whit sat up on the desk beside her "The Atlas Carnival came in during a rocky time between the M's and non M's, the thing at the hospital happened and things are worse." He said explaining to her more with gestors than words "Yet, people still go there."
In short while Whit and her where floundering to make the city get along, The Atlas Carnival already knew how and was profiting big time from it.
"Okay, gives you and Janine a reason to have a date." She said agreeing to plan
"Actually I was wondering if you could be the one to ask the circus." Wisty said with a stranded tone "Tonight if you could, like you said we should have this thing before the final decision is made on the proposals."
Wisty burned a look at her brother, she wasn't sure why he was making her do this when it was his idea. There was no need to rush his plan voting wasn't even compete let alone gone through the rounds of counting and recounting. Her jaw clenched as her fingers traced the edge of the scarf. "sure, I'll just go now." She kept her tone relaxed as she made her way back in to the crowed room. Deep down she was thankful for Whit, he gave her a reason to return to the circus which wasn't her own.
It was late in the afternoon by the time she got close to the carnival grounds, it was packed even more so then when she was their opening day. She wandered up and down the maze of elaborately decorated tents and stalls. Wondering where Kridi was, the little enigma would be useful to get her to the right people quickly. "Hey Kridi?" she asked to the air hoping it would be the tiny entity was in ear shot.
There was no response, it was strange to admit it but she missed Kridi. Even tempting the thought of taking the little guy home, she wasn't sure what she or her cats would do with him but, it was only a thought.
Wisty stopped mid stride seeing someone out of the corner of her eye. "Hey!" she shouted seeing the woman from glacier, that took on for massive wolves with nothing but ribbon.
She stopped and stared at Wisty, head tiled to the side confused gloved hands clasped behind her back.
"Hi, um." Wisty sighed stopping the formality pulling off her scarf in front of the woman. "Can you help me with this?"
The first words to come out of her the woman mouth wasn't English or a language Wisty recognized. Judging by the look of utter shock on her face, she assumed it to be a spur of the moment profanity of some sort. "Come, COME!" Woman said in a flustered accented tone.
With very little choice Wisty retied her scarf around her neck, following g the woman wearily. After what seemed like any aimless goose chase the woman flagged down some one much more recognizable than her.
Eremiel was surprisingly older than Wisty first thought, during the performance she assumed that he the same age as Nikolas. Yet, seeing him up close at his full height and muscular build she estimated that he was a least in his late thirties.
Woman stomped over to him, berating him loudly in her foreign tongue punching him in the chest with her thinly gloved hands. Wisty watched feeling award as, Eremiel responded awkwardly curling away from the woman who only came up to his shoulder.
He turn his gaze Wisty his expression cooling "You have something to say to Nik?" He grumbled more than asked.
"Yes. There an event me and my brother-"
Eremiel raised his hand in disinterest "Say no more, I'll take you to him." He stated walking off to the farthest corner of the carnival grounds.
"So what's with the wings?" Wisty asked starring his back, thin black strikes marking his tightly folded appendages.
"What about them?" he turned his head her eyebrows raised.
"Why do you still have them?"
Eremiel turned completely to her, shadow loom over her Wisty tensing in response. "I understand don't mean ill by your question but, for information magic is different for everyone." He leaned to her whispering harshly "And response to the user's body differently as well." He narrowed her eyes at her, scanning her for an uncomfortable moments if you asking why I don't wish away my wings? In short I can't." His words hissed as he continued on his way, in the direction of the tall building draped in ghostly fabric.
Upon their arrival at the building, Eremiel opened the door fist depositing her in a cold, silent room. Moving deeper in to the room out of nerves, Wisty's eyes fell on the contents of the room. Paintings, real handmade on canvas paintings. She examined a painting of a woman in a white dress, it was hard to if the woman was falling or floating, her hair and fabric spun in mesmerizing arcs about her slender body.
The sound of a door opening from the side, pulled her attention way the picture. Eremiel was holding up a metal to a bare stair well "up." He said leaving here to ascend the stairwell.
After another glance at the painting Wisty followed him up the massive twisting stairs. The climbing the stair up was a crawl, the bare window less walls giving no indication of what floor they were on or where they where going. Several more minutes past 'till they came to landing the door handle tied with a purple cloth.
Eremiel opened it for one more. "There another door with a cloth." He gave her a calculating gaze "Whatever you have to say to Nik, do it quickly." He continued in a more open but, argent tone. "He live in high up and complicate place so no one bother him."
Wisty nodded, after recently become the center of the city's attention, she could sympathize with the ring master on that detail. "Thank for the tip."
It was less of chore to find Nikolas's room than the rest of her journey. Her hand hovered over the door her mind doing a last-minute sort of her thoughts before nocking.
"It's unlocked." The voice that answered was clearly Nikolas's, but different more relaxed. With an under tone of something what made her inwardly shivered. She opened the door slowly peering into room, it was organized chaos. Book and bobbles of all sorts consuming their perches, bottles of liquid clumped together in a corner and a heavy wooden desk which must have been a nightmare to bring up. Sat in the center of it all papers flooding door from its surface and on to the floor.
She walked in slowly catching Nikolas arms crossed staring rather blanking out a window. She started at him, his lean muscles, the crumpled white dress shirt he wore, the disheveled hair racked through one to many times .it was like staring a different person then when he was on TV or performed in front of a captivated audience, she looked down at the concrete floor feeling embarrassed to see him this away.
"Hello?" He sound caught off-guard.
She look up quickly. "Hi, I'm Wist-eria Allgood." She held out a hand to him, want to keep this encounter as business like as possible.
Nickolas took her hand his grip firm and sure "Nice to finally meet you, your majesty." He smiled softly kiss the back side of her hand before letting it go. "Care for seat?" He asked pulling over a chair to the desk.
Wisty stood there for a moment, a part of her wanting to slap him for his act of 19th century chivalry. She then stared at the chair presented to her, exhausted from the hike up there she took it. "Thank you and I'm not a queen, The City is a democracy." Taking his statement as simple miss information.
He rolled his shoulders face warm and neutral to her words "Is there anything I can get you food, drink?" he asked looking her over, his rust colored eyes searching for something.
She swallowed a deeply self-conscious feeling it gave her "I'm fine." She searched her mind her the proper way to continue the conversion. Damming her brother for wanting her to do this, and damming herself wanting to get it done and over with so quickly, making a big mistake in the process. "I was here to return you kindness actually." She gave nervous smile.
Nikolas tilled his head slightly, as he waited for her to continue.
"There is an upcoming Arts festival, and my brother and I were wondering if you'd like to participate in it." She said quickly, her gaze pointed down wards. She didn't understand why he made her so nervous, he wasn't threating her and if he was she could easily take him.
Nikolas lean against his desk probing his chin in his hand. "How so?"
"I saw you."
The air in the room was heavy, Wisty looked up at him shocked by her own words. She did not want to tell him about the council, and judging his animated change of expression nether did him.
She opted for the best alternative. "On the news, your singing its good and the paintings." She looked at him her legs suddenly feeling like stone.
He nodded stiffly getting up to sit behind his desk "Fine, just give a date and I'll set up a band." He grabbing a loose piece of paper and stared to write. "Two songs and the anthem to the Atlas Carnival should do since, I don't know what the others will do." He look at her briefly before going back to his work. "As for a painting, I'll try but, I'm how you say protective of current thing after The One."
Wisty nodded simply saying "I understand."
Silent stretched between them and her wonder if their paths could have crossed before this moment. Could she of found him and made him a Resistance member, could of the Atlas Carnival find her and Whit save them instead. Would an encounter like change the mandated destiny that The Book of Truths had for them.
See closed her eyes will thoughts from her head, the past was in the past. She was content with the life she had made for herself, and like her magic nothing was worth trading it for.
"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Nikolas finally broke the still, standing up. "You can stay and rest, it's a real pain to get up those stairs."
"Thanks but, no thanks." She willed herself to stand up, finishing what he brother sent her to do. "I'm really busy and my brother would like to know all this." Wisty turned heading for the door, her scarf on the other hand slid seamlessly off her neck and on to the floor.
Nikolas made short cough sound, the sensation of his eyes on her neck felt worse than a thousand self-afflicted burns.
"It's not a tattoo." She defended herself scrambling for the scarf.
"It's okay I know it's not." Nikolas's where calm to calm for Wisteria liking, a part of her told her to look not up.
"HEY wait, stop taking yours shirt off!" she screamed at him.
Nikolas stared at her a moment, his cheek reddening the third button of her shirt coming undone. Pulling back the fabric softly, there on chest just above his heart was a sight that made her go cold.
A black marking of a terrifying predatory bird lock in an eternal scream, the same as the one on her neck.
(AN: This is the beginning of the second act. Hope you found it as enjoyable as I did. This chapter was kind of long so forgive me for the excess errors. Ps: readers your reaction of this chapter will gauge how I proceed with the story.)
