Fear Her Wrath II: Crucible of Glass

Chapter 26

"I can find my own way back," I said as we walked down the steep path towards Rothko Island's only dock. There was a clanging sound behind us as the guards closed and locked the gate of the compound.

"You sure?" said Corrigan. "Bakshi's your only way off this rock until the ferry comes at the end of second shift. Unless... do you have a Night-Boat I don't know about?"

I forced a laugh. My heart was heavy, and I didn't think I could make it back to the mainland without breaking down. So, I was going to sneak off and have a good cry, then hitch a ride back to Joplin Heights with the Psychopomp—and then do a little more crying once I got home. Eventually, I'd break down and call Anaya or Ellie, and they'd try to make the best of it while I cried some more.

That was my plan, anyways. Not that heroic, but at least emotionally healthy.

"I'm sure," I said. "I've got some... things I wanna look into. I'll see you later."

Corrigan looked at me skeptically, but decided to let it go. She always could see right through me, but at least that meant she had realistic expectations. I was fifteen, and sometimes I was going to be weird and mysterious. With a shrug, she set off for Bakshi's boat alone, and I slipped into the shadows cast by the gables and turrets of Rothko Mansion, vanishing from sight.

Creeping along the perimeter wall, I made my way to the small cave beneath the panopticon wing. This opening led to the Bellamy sewer system, which connected Rothko Island to the Fen through a tunnel at the bottom of the lake. It was my way home, assuming the construction crews hadn't found it and blocked it. I guess I probably should have checked on that before I gave up my place in the patrol boat, but I got lucky—the cave mouth was untouched, for the price of one vintage quarter, I'd be back in Joplin Heights within an hour.

Obviously, I didn't feel like heading back quite yet.

I slumped onto the grassy slope just outside the cave entrance and looked across the water to the city I was doing my best to protect. I felt strangely empty. Like when the season was over and you lost in the semifinals. Sure, you weren't even supposed to make it that far. Everyone said they were proud of you. But you knew you could have done more. It was still a defeat, even though you technically did everything right.

I'd lost Simon completely. Like really, really lost him. I told myself I wasn't going to give up on our friendship, but it would never be the same. I'd imagined myself getting married to Simon. That probably sounds stupid—I'd only known him for a few months, and I think we dated for about four weeks total before I left him chained up for the police at the steam plant. But somehow, I thought this would all turn out okay. Maybe if Psychosis revealed himself, Simon would somehow be off the hook. And I'd have my boyfriend back.

Pretty stupid, right?

As I gazed out at the lights of the Fen, I felt the presence of a creature creeping up beside me. Anywhere else in Marbrose City, I would have been on my feet in an instant. After all, most things that moved silently in the dark wanted to kill me. But this was Rothko Island. I knew who my mysterious companion was.

"Hi, Mr. Rothko," I said glumly. "Sorry about what they did to your house. Guess you're sharing it with the freaks now."

The hulking creature beside me said nothing. Its luminous eyes were studying the same glimmering sparks on the other side of the harbor as mine were. I could see some of those weird cerulean flowers that only seemed to grow on Rothko Island clutched in its scaly claws. Apparently the Shambler was on a nighttime flower-picking jaunt when he found me sulking in his backyard.

"I still haven't found your machine. I mean, I know where it is. I've just been so... distracted. And it's kinda hard to get to. I know that's not much of an excuse. The people who stole it must be laughing at me right now. They're hardly even trying to kill me anymore."

Again, the Shambler said nothing. I didn't expect him to. After all, so far as I knew, he couldn't even talk anymore, which made him an ideal confidant when you just want to feel sorry for yourself.

"I must be doing something wrong. I wish someone would tell me that instead of acting like everything's fine. It's not. I'm just a band-aid on an infected wound. I need to do more. But..."

The tears were finally coming. I slipped off my mask and used my sleeve to wipe my eyes.

"It's this... stupid city," I choked. "It just keeps taking... and taking... and taking. And I can't..."

I buried my face in my hands.

"I can't give anymore."

For about five minutes, I just let myself feel how much I was hurting. It's funny how you get used to not feeling as a vigilante—just walking off the physical damage and emotional scars like you don't even notice them. I used to be a bit of a wimp about pain. Anaya always teased me about it—said I should switch to the soccer team if I was gonna cry every time I got shoved. Now, somehow, I'd gotten dangerously close to not feeling it at all. It just built up inside me, like poison. I had to consciously give into the sense of loss—to will myself to feel the burning in my chest and clamminess of my limbs and the actual, physical ache of never being able to touch Simon again. It worked. I was pretty miserable.

And I couldn't stop thinking about him.

"Oh, god..."

The pain was subsiding back into numbness. I could hear the waves lapping against the shore again. I could feel the cold wind blowing against my skin. It was late, and I had school tomorrow. I needed to get home.

I straightened myself, brushed off my pants, and put my mask back on.

"Sorry about that," I said to the Shambler. "I just... lost someone I really cared about. For the second time. I needed to get it out of my system."

The garbled mass of hair, moss, and scales beside me was silent, but he was still there. That counted as sympathy in my book.

"I better get out of here," I said. "Um, good luck with your flower-picking."

I turned towards the tunnel, but then stopped. I couldn't be sure, but could have almost sworn that he said something. Just a word. Whispered so quietly that it was almost lost in the wind.

"Mary."

END OF PART I