Danse Macabre

Chapter 7

Edinburgh, October 2021

Brontë walked into the library and made her way to the reading nook. Diana and I studied different subjects, and the library was one of their favourite places to work. From the distance, Brontë noticed her best friend's ginger hair. Diana was standing tall, her arms crossed across her chest and her eyes shooting daggers. Her hair was flowy, and with wonder Brontë noted, that Diana looked like a goddess, very much like her namesake.

"Hi, Di. Is everything okay?"

"You tell me."

Surprised, Brontë took a step back. She could see that Diana was in a bad mood, but didn't expect the hostility to be towards her.

"I'm sensing some bad vibes from you, Di. What is it?"

"Jagoda told me, how you saved her life." Diana hissed and Brontë started to get angry. How come I do one good deed and everyone tells me off for that?

"You were there, Di, I don't -"

"Cut the crap, [BRONTE]." Diana pointed her finger at Brontë and walked closer to her. She was whispering now and Brontë did not know what to do.

"I always knew that you're hiding something from me, but I thought you'll come to me when you're ready. Well, guess what, Brontë." Diana stopped centimetres in front of Brontë's face, her normally pretty face contorted by anger. Brontë could not recognise her, and the feeling of uneasiness started to turn into fear. Something's really wrong. "The time's up. Whatever happened, is linked to you. I know it."

Suddenly, Diana backed off and her shoulders started to shake. She's crying, Brontë realised but didn't know what to do. Cheering her up hardly seemed like it'd help.

"Are you really going to lie to me and put me in danger?"

December 2021

Brontë let out a deep sigh. She had issues bigger than the fight with Diana months ago, in what felt like a different life, but during her stay here, she kept replying to that moment in her head countless times. That's the cracks began to show.

Hornie was unusually quiet either, squinting at Brontë.

"That does not sound like Diana." he finally said. "I know we've focused on other things, but from what you've said so far, she does not seem like a person to act irrationally."

"That's what I thought." Brontë rubbed her forehead as if that could erase the last few months, as if that could take her to the beginning, away from this cage and Hornie and back to magic. "It was such a 180, I didn't know what to say."

"So what did you do?"

"I didn't get to do anything."

Edinburgh, October 2021

Lachlan heard Brontë and Diana talking, and decided to say hello. Despite the animosity between Brontë and him, he still cared for her. There was a part of him that kept hanging onto the hope that things will go back to normal, but deep down he knew it wasn't going to happen. That he burned all of the bridges that could bring Brontë back to him. He made her way to the girls, when he noticed something unusual. Diana's eyes, normally green, were black and she seemed to have been terrorising Brontë, who looked like she was on the verge of mental breakdown. He hurried up, and positioned himself between the girls.

"Is everything okay, gals?" he asked gently, giving Brontë a quick glance. Was it him, or did she seem relieved to see him?

"None of your business, Fraser." Diana barked, putting her hands on her hips.