thunderstruck | book #2 | discontinued

X V I I

"Maksim!"

He felt sick as soon as he heard the sound of his name being called—not because he did not like his own name, but because of the annoying witch from whose mouth it had emerged. He would know the high-pitched voice anywhere, and while Hilda had told him that Annika had not been punished for her actions, he was still unpleasantly surprised to hear it now, outside of Central Hall.

He paused on the chalk-white steps and turned around, unable to keep from scowling even when he saw she was with her father. They were looking up at him from the cobbles, with the Principle draped in deep red robes and Annika in a dress of the same colour. It was the same red Maksim was wearing; the same red everyone in Central Hall and Astracia would be wearing, for it was the colour Cliona had died in. The colour of bravery. People had been wearing it all week and would still be wearing it for weeks to come, for there had been dozens of deaths, and each day a new funeral was being held. Today it was hers.

It was clear from a quick glance that Annika had spent much time on her appearance, and though she looked just as she had before the lies and dark magic, Maksim sensed something different in her now—a shadow looming over her, tainting her porcelain skin and golden eyes. He wondered if people could see a shadow over him, too, the way he did when he looked in the mirror, or if really there was a shadow over everyone and he had just never noticed before now. 

Remy had noticed it—in Annika, at least. He hated himself for being too proud, too naïve, to have listened. Something began to bubble in the pit of his stomach, the same something he felt when he looked at his brother: hatred and betrayal, for even if he had never cared for the witch, he had thought he could trust her.

"I cannot stop. My mother has asked me to fill in for her until she returns, and there is much to be done before the funeral, I imagine," he said coolly, hesitating in front of the arch doorway that lead to Central Hall.

"And where is Hilda, might I ask? It is her job, not yours, to help with Council business," responded August.

Maksim sighed and shuffled back down the steps so that he would be on eye level with the Principle. It was clear he could not run off now, but he could ignore Annika, and so he did.

"You assume she tells me anything. That is quite bemusing." His eyes narrowed. He had still not forgiven his mother for keeping Erika and the key from him, and did not think he ever would. "She rushed off during breakfast claiming that she had a few errands to run, and that I must cover things for her here. I do not mind. Tykon is my friend, and I am happy to help with the funeral."

"Well, then, I hope your mother does not miss Cliona's funeral. She was a Council member. She deserves to be honoured by her fellow colleagues."

"I agree," nodded Maksim solemnly. "I am sure she will not miss it."

"Maksim, may we talk?" Annika asked in a timid voice from beside her father.

August looked between the two of them with stony grey eyes. "I will leave you two alone for the time being. Thank you for offering your help, Mr. Opal. Do not be too long, Annika."

He ascended the stairs and disappeared into the large threshold before Maksim had a chance to tell him it was not necessary. He had no desire to speak with his daughter.

He glared at her, wondering how it was she had the right to be here after all she had done. She had been a part of Ackmards group, a Dark One, and so had been a part of Cliona's death.

"How is it you have the nerve to come here today? You caused this."

"I did not kill Cliona," she responded quickly, lowering her eyes despite herself.