Gilded Cage

Chapter Eight

November passed in a daze. Normal. Boring. Uneventful. Before I realised it, it was December. Alexi never brought up the plan again and the others barely acknowledged the fact that now I knew. I found it weird, but I didn't have any clue on how to approach the topic. I still hadn't given Alexi an answer if I was going to join them or not. I felt torn; I didn't know how far I was willing to go, and if I was ready to put aside my doubts and own beliefs —or lack of those — and follow them blindly. Still, that would have meant implicating myself in something potentially dangerous and wicked; to have the power of a God, I had to sell my soul to the Devil. If I had had any Faith at all, I would have been sure we were all going to Hell. The most unsettling thing, though, was that I seemed to be the only one who was concerned by the whole ordeal.

"Today was the last lecture of the term," Jamie announced, while he was gathering his books and notes. He had spent the last two hours reading some kind of Old English poem, a forgotten myth about a boy who sought eternal life and enraged the Gods by doing so — or at least I thought it was something like that since I wasn't really paying attention. I stared at him the entire time. After what Alexi had shown me, I just couldn't look at Jamie the same way. I tried to see if I could find any trace of the darkness that I now knew he was hiding behind those polite smiles, behind the nice professor façade. Jamie Roberston had blood on his hands, and he wanted us to be like him; corrupt, dirty, evil.

"Benjamin, can I talk to you for a second?"

I stopped in my tracks, shuddering at Jamie's tone, one that didn't contemplate a no for an answer. From the corner of my eye, I saw Alexi waiting for me at the door, a question on his face. I nodded at him and, after hesitating for a moment, he left with everyone else. I was alone with Jamie. A few weeks ago, I wouldn't have minded; now, my hands started sweating. I didn't want him to think I was intimidated by him, so I squared my shoulders and walked to his desk trying to smooth my expression.

I cleared my throat, and said, "Of course."

Jamie fixed his eyes in mine, smirking like a fox in a henhouse, and I was the chicken. "I just wanted to know how you found this first term in my class. I recognise that Folklore is not for everyone. I hope that yo—"

"With all due respect," I said, feigning a confidence I didn't have. "You didn't want to ask me about the module. So, why don't you cut to the point?"

Jamie's smile wavered for only a moment before he started laughing. I stared at him, baffled. "Oh, Ben. I really do like you. You always know how to surprise me." He walked closer, and I tried not to back off instinctively. "It is my understanding that Alexi told you everything."

"He did."

Jamie sighed and waved a hand in front of him nonchalantly. "I was against it, of course."

"Were you?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, his smile long forgotten. "I don't think you understand the real implications of what we're doing here."

That was the problem, then. He didn't think I was deserving of such knowledge. I wasn't like his precious Alexi; his smart, ruthless, desperate pupil. Or maybe he was just worried about what I would do because I wasn't as easily manipulated into believing his pathetic spell would work.

"I think I understand just fine," I grumbled.

"Really?" He leaned against the desk, resting on his hip. "So, did Alexi explain all the steps to you in detail?"

"He showed me the journal."

Jamie crossed his arms on his chest, tilting his head to the side. "Yes, but did he explain?" When I said nothing, he smiled again, nodding. "As I suspected."