Strange Aeons [Book 1]

17. Sweet Dreams are Made of Death [part III]

She still sported the same headache the morning after, when she had to navigate the whole morning of classes. Every sound was like a hammer through a nail in the middle of her brain, while drunken sailors danced Russian-style on her synapsis.

She basically didn't move for six hours, and when the last lesson finally ended, she simply crawled out from her desk and dragged her feet towards the class door.

Where she found Irissa, looking at her with a dark look.

«Are you drunk?» she asked, her voice just a little too sharp for Banshee's ears.

«What? No. Just... magic.» she said, blinking in the light as they exited the room. «Aren't you with your friends?»

«They went home, I'm waiting for...»

«Irissa!» chimed a deep voice from the corridor, and Banshee exerted herself by raising her eyes.

Bathed in the light coming from the upper windows, wearing a tight sleeveless light-blue shirt gym tank top and blue jeans that didn't leave much to imagination, River came striding along, basking in the awed glares coming from nearly everyone he passed by. His blonde hair was shining, hit by the sunlight, and his eyes were alive with a glamorous light.

His perfection was annoying, and almost made her not notice the little, black figure walking just beside him. The Irishwoman felt her heart miss a beat, when her eyes finally stopped on Staccato. Besides the night before in the Oneiron, this was the first time they met again after the trial. And even if she was desperately trying not to think that he could actually be her brother, she found herself studying his every movement, in dire need of something that could prove her right or wrong.

«River! Staccato!» the girl beamed with joy, waving furiously at them until they reached them. Banshee clearly felt Staccato's glare on her, even if she couldn't see it.

«Banshee?» River's voice was filled with surprise. «What are you doing here?»

«Recovering Academy.» she mumbled, trying not to stare at his muscles. Again.

«Irissa didn't tell us you were classmates.» Staccato said, his voice with a strange tone in it that made Irissa suddenly look nervous.

«Just for a handful of courses. I have to take almost all the Advanced ones, so we cross from time to time. She's a good sport.» Banshee answered and saw Irissa slightly relax.

Staccato didn't say anything for some moments, then nodded, slightly.

«Well, don't exert yourself. With your promotion, you'll have a new mission in no time, and it will be a good mission.» Staccato took some steps to reach Irissa and her, patted the girl's back with a paternal gesture, as she smiled to Banshee and started walking away. Staccato remained near the Irish just to whisper one last word. «Ossian.»

He left, leaving her as pale as gravel, standing in place with the expression of someone who had just been slapped in the face. That was her name. Her true name. The information.

River took one step to follow his Coven, but seeing her face hovered some seconds in place. And then doubled back.

«Hey, do you feel all right?»

She looked at him, extremely surprised yet again. She was trying not to hyperventilate.

«I... no. Yes. Kind of.»

«Want me to walk you to your car? You look like you're going to faint at any given moment. And I do my best with damsels in distress!» he offered, with a kind voice, that almost made her blush and recover her natural pale color.