Festival of the Dead

Chapter 4: Guinevere goes to Sleep

As much as she wanted to continue working, Guinevere knew that it would not be wise, considering the fact that she had gotten less than six hours of sleep the previous night and the fact that she was already dozing off in her seat. She decided that she would go to sleep, and continue her work right away the next morning. However, she was much too tired to walk back to her house. Instead, she went to the closet at the end of the large room and searched for the spare sheets she kept in case she ever had a patient or, though not likely, a guest. She pulled the sheets out and spread them on the floor. The ground was hard and uneven with pebbles, but it did not matter to her as long as she was able to sleep.

Guinevere lay down on the worn-out sheets and pulled one over her. She closed her eyes and instantly fell into a deep sleep.

Guinevere Knutson woke up the next morning feeling well rested. It's a good thing I chose to sleep, she thought. I surely would not have been able to get any work done if I had stayed awake last night. She felt positive about the day ahead of her. So positive, in fact, that she decided to treat herself to something. She knew that she should begin her work immediately, but she was in such a good mood and did not want to ruin it. Besides, she thought. I have all day. It's not likely that another person will die today as well. She grabbed her bag and walked out of the lab, not having a destination in particular.

She walked along the street, looking at all the shops and shacks. Then, catching her eye was a small, old fashioned-looking hut with a triangular roof made of straw. She walked in, and instantly she felt warmth. She could tell from the heat, the stack of china cups on the counter, and the smell of herbs that this was a tea hut. Tea was just what she wanted at this time, so she walked toward the counter and asked the short man working there for a cup. After a few minutes she sat down, now holding a steaming cup of jasmine tea. She felt more relaxed than she had in a long time.

Her relaxation did not last long, because out of the corner of her eye she saw a familiar figure. She looked to her right. She could recognize the light hair and pointed ears anywhere. Lucan was sitting on the other side of the room, also holding a cup of tea. Guinevere's instinct was to move as far away from this boy as possible, but she stopped. Why did she want to distance herself from him so much? It's not as if he was actually magical. She really had nothing to be afraid of. So, gathering her strength and her cup of tea, she stood and walked toward Lucan's table.

Lucan was clutching his cup of jasmine tea, looking out the window. He did not notice the scientist walk up to his table and stand there for about twenty seconds before she slammed her cup on the table with a loud thud!

Lucan's head whirled toward the source of the sound. There he saw Guinevere standing in front of him, her arms folded. "What do you want from me?" Lucan said roughly.

"Oh, nothing." Guinevere replied, but her actions showed that she wasn't just here for nothing. She pulled up a chair and sat down. "Why are you here?"

"Gee, I don't know." Said Lucan. He held up his cup of tea. "I'm sitting on a table, holding a cup of tea, I'd say I'm here for tap dancing lessons."

Guinevere did not approve of his sarcasm, but chose to ignore it. "I meant why are you here and not with Euandros?"

"Euandros is not my best friend, you know." Lucan said flatly.

"Oh, why not? I thought you two were having a blast distracting me from my work yesterday as you chose to ramble on about how you're magical."

"Euandros is the one who said I'm magical. I don't believe him though. There's no evidence."

"So you don't believe in magic?" Guinevere was trying to have hope for this young man; at least he wasn't completely insane.

"I never said that. I just said I don't think I'm magical."

"Exactly. Magic doesn't exist. I'm glad you've come to your senses, young man."

"That's not what I said and you know it." Lucan said firmly. He sounded annoyed.

"So you still believe in that nonsense?" Guinevere said. There really was no hope for him after all.

"Yes. No, I... I don't know. It's... a possibility."

"You need to clear that silly idea from your head, young man-"

"But it could be true." Lucan said with more certainty. "I mean, I don't think that I'm magical, but these deaths that are happening could be caused by magic."

Guinevere groaned. "Listen to reason, Lucan-"

"No, you listen." Lucan's voice was rising. "If you can't find a scientific explanation, what's it gonna be?"

"I'm working on uncovering the truth." Guinevere said, insulted at what he said. "You could help me, but you insist on believing in make-believe things."

"That's just not fair." Lucan said loudly. He slammed his cup on the square oak table. His eyes were fierce. Guinevere could have sworn she saw them turn red. Of course, that was not scientifically possible. Lucan was glaring at her. Why was this boy so mad? Guinevere thought. I didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one who should be mad. She got up to leave.

She was just about to walk away when suddenly, she felt an excruciating pain in her head. She yelled in agony. Everyone in the restaurant looked at her. She clutched her head and wailed. I'm dying, she thought. But this felt strange. She had not been poisoned, stabbed, or drugged. She fell to the ground as the realization hit her like a mace on a wooden staff: this was magic. She looked at Lucan. He looked just as shocked as everyone else around her, but he was special. It was coming from him, though he did not know it. Guinevere could feel the magic, but in the form of pain. She wondered how she had not felt the boy's power before. Now it occurred to her that she had been wrong. Magic was real, and Lucan was the killer. And she was his next victim.

All the while she was screaming. Her screams bounced off the walls and filled her head as she felt the most agonizing pain in her life. All of a sudden, her heart stopped. The last thing she saw was the small china cup on the table, half full, with jasmine tea.

The End

(You may now start from a different character or read the second ending for this story)