Fantasy

Chapter XI

     We bolted out of the classroom and down the hall, Mr. Borben hobbling as quickly as he could behind us. As we were about to turn the corner, Caspian came to an abrupt stop, causing me to run right into him. Opening my mouth to yell it him, it hung in shock because I saw what made him stop.

      Mr. Borben came up behind us and sighed deeply. 

     Bryn lay in a pool of a black, inky substance, her red hair tangled and in a gooey mop beneath her and in knots over her forehead. In her hands she loosely held a textbook, and her skin was oddly pale and lifeless. Her expression was peaceful but her knuckles were white and she had left a deep imprint from her nails on the victimized textbook. Other students quickly started to gather around her in utter shock. It became quite a scene.

     Caspian fell forward to kneel next to Bryn. Ignoring the black, for lack of better word, goop surrounding his knees, he reached for her wrist and desperately checked her pulse. Looking up at me, I could see his eyes cloudy with tears for a fraction of a second, until he glowered at Mr. Borben. 

     "Well don't just stand there you old troll, bring someone, a potent from healing! Bring Sierra! Now!" he shouted furiously at the old man. He got to his feet and it seemed as if he were the only one thinking logically in the midst of a slow motion world. 

     Mr. Borben simply took off his large, bronze spectacles and rubbed the spot on his nose in between his eyes. "Young man, you will not address your teachers that way. There is no need to bother Sierra, or any other healer at the moment. This is not the first time this has happened." he blatantly said with a rather obnoxious air of superiority. 

     Of course, I had to butt in at this point. "What do you mean? This happened to someone else?" I questioned fiercely. If whatever it was that happened had occured before, then why didn't anyone prevent Bryn from getting hurt?

     "That's what I was going to discuss with you earlier, Joelle," he muttered under his breath. Coughing to readjust his voice he loudly announced, "All students, please proceed back to your classes until further notice. The matter is in capable hands and you need not worry."

     I was praying those "capable hands" weren't mine.

     As the crowd died down, we were alone in the hallway with Bryn's body. Caspian was back on the floor clutching Bryn's free hand and wiping the hair from her forhead. I'm probably an awful person for feeling a pang of jealousy. Did he like her? Pushing those thoughts from my head, I turned to Mr. Borben.

     "What is this? What's happening?" I demanded.

     Looking at me pointedly, he replied, "Last night, a similar 'accident' happened to another student. Marcus Willmer, a Herbal potent. He was found in the herbium at around midnight by one of the teachers, surrounded by the same substance as poor Bryn here. It was assumed to be originate from a plant in the greenhouse, but now clearly it was not." 

     I stared at him. Marcus Willmer? Herbal potent? Herbium? I was waiting for a bit more explanation, and it was a silent discourse for a short moment.

     Caspian sighed frustratingly and broke it. "Marcus Willmer was just another student like Bryn, but he had talent when it came to growing and cultivating magical crops. The Herbium is like a greenhouse, but can be dangerous and have extreme conditions." he rolled off his tongue. At least someone knew I was still new here.

      Nodding, Mr. Borben went on, "After speaking to the head of Healing, we learned that Marcus was not dead, but their souls are in some sort of limbo, or suspended reality of, well, nothingness. The same is likely for your red-headed friend here."

     Caspian glanced up at him in sheer amusement, "You're kidding, right? You have to be joking, and Mr. Borben this isn't the best time to joke about that." he stuttered as if assuring himself.

      Mr. Borben shook his head and sighed, causing his shoulders to heave. "That's why we need Joelle's help. I figured she could try and understand what happened to these students through their own eyes, and ultimately retrieve their souls from limbo. It's is beyond improbable, but as of now, I really have no other choice."

     "What if I can't do it?" I murmured under my breath. It seemed like a lot more than what I was capable of, and I sure as hell could not go back to Helena and expect teaching.

     Caspian's hand was tight on Bryn's, and tears threatened to spill over his eyelids. He choked up, but clearly got out, "Jo, you don't have to." For the first time in the time I've known him, Caspian, the green-eyed responsible, confident, fearless, control freak seemed vulnerable. 

     I figured I didn't really have a choice. I stared down at Bryn, so lifeless and helpless. I thought of another boy, Marcus, who was probably in the same condition. I definitely did not have a choice. 

     Straightening my back, and putting my chin up, I started to say, "I'll do..." when I felt a strong pounding in my head. Falling to my knees, I gripped my head. It was burning, searing with pain. It felt like my insides would pop, like I couldn't contain myself. My vision started to blur, and I was spinning. Or may be the room was. Were Caspian and Mr. Borben running around in circles? 

     As everything started to fall backward, my eyes shot open, and I could finally see clearly.

     But I wasn't in the hallway. I was alone, in a strange room filled with deranged forms of Venus flytraps, and neon colored plants. The air was wet and it reeked of skunk and freshly cut grass. Turning around, I saw a boy walk in the room holding a small potted sprout. His lanky but muscled arms cradled the pot, and he walked quickly, but with care and poise. His golden hair was subtle streaked with a brown, and I couldn't tell if it was just dirty blonde, or soil. 

     The boy walked right past me, and I felt a slight breeze as he did. His eyes were stormy, a dark, and cloudy blue. Placing his sprout on the table gently, he turned around and stared right at me. Actually, right through me. I felt pinned by his gaze but knew he wasn't looking at me when I heard an ice cold voice that rang with familiarity. 

     "Marcus." it whispered loudly from behind me, like a knife cutting through silence.