Page 12 of The Evil Twin

“Did you damage the book?” he demanded, as soon as I came into sight. He must have been just sitting there waiting for me to appear the whole time, fretting over his book.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s as good as new,” I said. “But thank you for showing it to me. It was very helpful.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You know Latin?”

I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “I know enough.”

Technically, it wasn’t a lie. I knew enough to use my translation app.

“Good luck,” he said. “I hope you find a cure for Althea. She deserves to live a full and healthy life.”

It seemed like a weird thing to say, but he was a weird guy. Althea was probably the only person he saw regularly, stuck down there in the book dungeon. Well, and Hamish. No wonder he was a bit of an odd duck.

My brothers were all asleep by the time I got back. I’d been gone a lot longer than I thought. I made a sandwich in the little kitchenette in our shared area. I was dead tired and still a bit cold, but I wanted to work more on the translation of the book, so I took my sandwich to bed and cranked up the heating. I was always nagging my brothers about eating in bed, so I’d have to make sure I left no trace or I’d never hear the end of it.

I started with the app-translated text as a guide, matching it with the original text word by word, noting anything that didn’t make sense or words that could have wildly different meanings. A picture started to form of what the text meant, but by that point, the words were swimming in front of my eyes. I emailed the original text along with the few paragraphs that I’d translated to Tennyson, with the subject: “you know Latin, right?”, then took my plate out of the sink to rinse off the sandwich crumbs.

“You shouldn’t eat in bed, you know.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin. I dropped the plate and it clattered in the sink.

“Sheesh, Liam, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

He shuffled out of the darkness and took a seat at the table. “You missed dinner.”

“I know. I lost track of time.”

“You were with Tennyson?”

I didn’t like the way Liam said Tennyson’s name. Like Tennyson was something awful.

“No,” I said. “I was in the library doing some research. What did Hamish do to that guy down there, anyway?”

Liam huffed a laugh. “Papier mâché.”

I groaned, but I was pleased that Liam sounded a little more like himself. I wanted things to be okay between us. He was my brother, the closest to my age, and I relied on him for so much. I didn’t want him to resent me.

“If things go well, this all might be over soon,” I told him. “You can go to a real school, and everything can get back to normal.”

He snorted. “Normal. Right.”

“I just want you to be safe,” I said. “And it’s not safe at the moment.”

“He wouldn’t hurt us,” Liam said. “He’s our dad.”

I chewed on my lip. I had to be careful. I suspected our father had been in contact with the boys. I didn’t know how, or how often, or what he’d said, but I thought maybe he’d been targeting Liam.

Liam was older, and the other two couldn’t keep their mouths shut for love or money, so I was fairly sure they’d have slipped up and told me. Liam obviously saw me as the authority figure he needed to rebel against, which left him wide open for manipulation by our father. He’d been so young when our dad left that he only had good memories. Heck, even I’d mostly only had good memories, at least, up until when he came back into our lives and caused a magical war.

“He hurts people,” I said. “That’s what he does. He hurt me, and he’d hurt you and the boys as well. You can’t trust him.”

Liam looked as if he was about to argue, then shook his head. “You should go to bed. Hamish will have you up at the crack of dawn.”

He gave me a wry smile and then stood up. I sighed, watching as he retreated back into the shadows and closed his bedroom door. I could see that whole situation turning into a problem. I should nip it in the bud, but I didn’t know how. I’d never signed up to be a parent to my brothers. I had no clue what I was doing. The easiest way was to stop my father before he could interfere in our lives anymore.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t woken at the crack of dawn by Hamish. It was by Tennyson, looming over my bed like a creeper.

“How long have you been standing there?” I asked when my eyes focused enough to see him.

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