Emberlight

9. Stabby Stabby

Feya

"The book, Feya. There's this book..." He folded in two, resting one hand against his knee and the other against his stomach. The smell of cooked meat grew nauseatingly strong as more of the Embers realised what had happened and edged away, watching the scene unfold through sideways glances.

"The what?" she said, utterly confused. "Let me see? Please." She tried to pry his hand away but he twisted away from her.

"It's a scratch, trust me."

Each second that passed ticked away his life. The rest of the dining hall looked on at them with stolen glances, whispering their opinions, ideas, and observations, the hissing noise cluttering her head as she tried to block them out. It reminded Feya of a punch-up on the playground, rather than a stabbing in their home.

"Then it's a scratch," Odin said calmly.

"How can you say that? How are you not panicking? How....How is everyone else so calm?"

"Because I'm here," Odin replied. He knelt and examined the wound before taking Tristan's good arm and resting it over his shoulder. "And he'll be fine with Adeyemi's help. Easy, there, buddy."

Tristan hissed through the pain.

"Adeyemi's got this, okay?" Odin told Feya. "Stick with Kelsey and crowded rooms, and I'll come find you later."

He disappeared before she could answer. Just like that, they were both gone, leaving only a puddle of blood behind.

Her lip quivered. Tears blurred her vision. This wasn't okay, it just wasn't. And she wasn't going to wait around for an update. She had to find Kelsey and get to the infirmary.

Kelsey was on the floor, pale and trembling, forehead glossy with sweat. She trembled, her eyes unfocused as if just about to pass out.

"Oh, for goodness sake!"

"Well, I'm sorry," Kelsey said.

"No—I mean—I didn't think you were that squeamish. Let's go already." Feya held out her hand and waited. "Let's get to the infirmary."

Kelsey shook her head. "I can't," she muttered, wiping the sweat from her head. She reached out for the wall and clung to it, pulling herself to her feet before breaking out into an unstable sprint in the opposite direction to the infirmary.

Feya pulled at her hair. "Hey! There's a dangerous girl on the loose! You can't leave like...like you always leave! Get back here! Get back..." Feya groaned as her friend disappeared into the maze of corridors. She hesitated.

Yet again, she needed to be in two places at once.

"Tristan's turn," she muttered to herself, heading for the infirmary.

#

Kelsey

Kelsey slammed her bedroom door, but the familiar banging noise didn't register with her. She couldn't tell the difference between the red of the curtains and the grey of the wooden floorboards no matter how long she stared; the colours were dampened by her racing heart.

She leaned against the wall and slithered to the floor, breathing in and out. In...and out.

Everyone in the dining hall had watched her fall apart in the crisis. Most of them watched as if it were a tragic, well-known tale, barely worthy of gossip. No one else had crumbled like her, and the look of pity that Feya poured all over her—it crushed her. She hated feeling so vulnerable.

"Good to see I'm not the only one struggling to fit in," a voice said from beside her, a harsh female voice with a certain smugness to it.

Kelsey clenched her fists and pushed herself up against the door, embracing her nerves. Her racing heart couldn't pump any harder, not even as she realised this person must have already been in here, waiting for her. Through her hazy vision, she could form a Nikkitah-shaped figure lounging across the desk, wiping her blade clean. The core of her blade had a black metal running through it that shimmered under her touch.