Page 154 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

I was still breathless, but not like the one night. When I… “Oh.”

“I wanna say I’m…” she trailed off. “Sleep better.”

I hate her.

The dreams are all repeats now. Reruns. Same old shit. I’ve done almost everything that’s happened in them now. Set a forest on fire, killed someone.

Four someones. I guess I’ve become exactly who I was scared I’d be in those dreams. At least I get to hug my mom in them. I guess, in a way, it’s worth it.

The kids stopped trying to attack me in Elemental Magic. Now they run away instead. Formidable—and I did it without Leiholan’s help too. Because he never told me to kill someone and take another someone’s arms. That was all me.

Maybe he is right about the Folk, because I’m turning out to be worse than them.

It makes sense I’m alone now, with this reputation of mine.

I wipe my eyes, even though I’m trying to wipe my mind. I did what I had to do to survive. Someone weaker would be dead now. I’m lucky, I’m smart, I’m strong.

I’m burning. I shake out my hands and blow on my fingers, hoping for a moment of cool. Ms. Abrams wants everyone to pair up to test out their progress. I look at Aralia, but she averts her gaze.

Right, alone. Everyone else I look at looks away too. I sit in the corner alone, like usual. I’m already going to fail anyway, and despite me having no plans of working in the kingdom, there’s no way I’d get to even if I wanted to—now that my true identity has been outed.

In Psychology, I look for Lucian, like I do every day. When I find him, I turn away, and when he’s not looking, I watch his back.

Fantasizing about the day I’ll get to stab him there.

I like it better this way. Gentleness is weakness. Tender hands and touching words are treacherous—they tear down walls you’d placed strategically. They tarnish armor you crafted for a reason. And when it comes to the end, it’s not gentleness that sends a blade through your opponent’s heart.

It’s rage.

Rage is strength. Rage has kept me breathing.

A week later, and I haven’t said a word to anyone—and no one’s said anything to me either. I think if I tried to speak, my vocal cords would crack.

In the halls Aralia and I used to walk together—Fleur, Eleanora, and Calista push themselves into her again. A book falls out of her bag, her philosophy book, and a picture falls from it.

Eleanora steps on it when Aralia goes to grab it and then I’m in front of them all. My eyes are burning so bad they sting.

“Lift your foot, or I’ll burn you alive,” I say through gritted teeth. Eleanora steps back in line with Fleur and Calista, and I look at them all.

“Clam down, inferno,” Aralia says, her hand on my shoulder.

They’re gone now, and I shrug Aralia away from me. “You didn’t deserve my help,” I say out loud.

“Des,” she says.

“Don’t.” I shouldn’t have gotten involved. Then I look down at the photo next to my foot. I recognize the man from our windowsill. It’s her dad.

Can’t I go to Leiholan now? Or at least work up the courage to go see what conversation I should be having with the headmistress? I don’t know which sounds scarier, and instead of deciding I walk, watching my feet.

“I’m sorry, Des,” Aralia’s voice carries through the hall. “I’ve been sorry this whole time,” this time the words are quiet, like she wants the words to just be for me, but they still carry through the hall. I know there are eyes on me, so I keep my head down and try to get away.

Suddenly, I’m met by a body, and something forces me to look up.

It’s Wendy. She reaches for my wrist, her eyes glazing over until they’re nothing but a washed-out shade of green. And out of her mouth comes the most eerie, toneless voice I’ve ever heard in my life.

“Time fractures with the stone. The one who leaves returns alone. When the cracks in the universe divide, love will be your demise.”

Wendy’s eyes go back to normal, and her hands jerk back. Her whole body is shaking, and I watch her throat work to swallow before she runs away from me. Aralia meets me immediately, asking me if I’m alright, and I step away from her.

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