𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐒𝐎 | ᴍɪʟʟᴀʀᴅ ɴᴜʟʟɪɴɢꜱ

𝟐𝟒] 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐌𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ I AM MYTHTAKEN!

"WHERE ARE WE GOING?"

The two masked kids said nothing, but seeming to sense my anxiety, they took me gently by the hands and led me along with the others. We rounded the house to the back corner, where everyone was gathering around a giant topiary.

This one wasn't a mythical creature, though, but a man reposing in the grass, one arm supporting him, the other pointing to the sly. It took a moment before I realized that it was a leafy replica of Michelangelo's fresco of Adam from the Sistine Chapel. Considering that it was made from bushes, it was really impressive.

You could almost make out the placid expression on Adam's face, which had two blooming gardenias for eyes. I saw Fiona standing nearby. She wore a flower-print dress that had been patched so many times it almost looked like a quilt.

I went over to her and, pointing to Adam, said, "Did you make this?"'

The girl nodded.

"How?"

She bent down and held one of her palms above the grass. A few seconds later, a hand-shaped section of blades wriggled and strerched
and grew until they were brushing the bottom of her palm.

"That," I said, "is crazy." Clearly, I was not at my most articulate.

Someone shushed me. The children were all standing silently with their necks craned, pointing at a section of skv. I looked up but could
see only clouds of smoke, the flickering orange of fires reflected against it.

Then I heard a single airplane engine cut throueh the rest. Coming close, and getting closer. Panic corroded me. This is the night they were all killed. Not just the night, but the moment.

I wondered, maybe if these children died every every night only to be resurated by the loop. Some Sisyphean suicide cult, condemned to be blown up and brought back together for eternity?

Something small and gray parted the clouds and came hurtling toward us. A rock, I thought, but rocks don't whistle as they fall.

Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run.

I would've but now there was no time; all I could do was scream and dive to the ground for cover. But there was no cover, so I hid behind the closest person and threw my arms over my head
as if somehow that would keep it attached to my body.

I clenched my jaw and shut my eyes and held my breath, but instead of the deafening blast I was bracing for, everything went completely, profoundly quiet. Suddenly there were no growling engines, no whistling bombs, no pops of distant guns. It was as if someone had muted the world.

Holy fucking shit am I dead?

I uncovered my head and slowly looked behind me. The windbent boughs of trees were frozen in place. The sky was a photograph of
arrested flames licking a cloud bank. Drops of rain hung suspended before my eyes.

And in the middle of the circle of children, like the object of some arcane ritual, there hovered a bomb, its downward-facing tip seemingly balanced on Adam's outstretched finger.

Then, like a movie that burns in the projector while you're watching it, a bloom of hot and perfect whiteness spread out before me and swallowed everything.

***

"What are you thinking about?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sudden noise. I was even more startled when I turned around and there wasn't anyone standing there.

"Sorry," he said, and I soon realized that it was Millard. "I forgot you're not used to it. Most of the others are."

I shook my head, my hands fooling with the lace around the sleeves of the dress. "I still can't believe it."

"Believe what?" He asked, and I could hear him step closer to the window I had been looking at.

"Peculiars," I said. "I thought you were just a myth."

"Well, you were mythtaken." Millard laughed, but then cleared his throat. "Sorry."

"No, no," I assured him, still trying to find where he was standing. "It was funny."

"You didn't laugh."

I had dug myself into a hole. "Okay, it wasn't that funny."

"Calypso," Jacob called, walking into the room. "We should probably head back."

"Right," I nodded, looking down at the clothes. "I should probably change first. Can you fetch Horace for me."

"No worries," said Millard, which rightfully seemed to scare Jacob just as he had done me. "You can keep the dress, no one would mind. Eloise always had a specific sense of fashion."

I didn't know how to respond. Because of what Hugh had said earlier, I assumed this girl had been a rough topic to bring up around Millard and Emma. And yet, I hadn't a clue about who this girl was. Grandpa Portman had never brought her up.

"Besides," he said, "you look just as nice as she did whenever she wore it."

I grabbed my clothes from earlier off of the couch. "Goodbye, Millard."

I tucked the clothes under my arm and grabbed Jacobs arm, pulling him out of the doorframe. He was laughing as I pulled him away.

"Oh thank you, Millard," he mocked. "I love you Millard!" I punched him on the shoulder. "Ow. Fine, jeez."

"What else was I supposed to say?" I asked, still tugging on his arm, hoping we could leave as soon as possible.

Through relentless arm-tugging, Jacob managed to say, "A thank you would have worked!"