‘Oh,’ she says, looking over and dropping the open book on her face. ‘I didn’t even hear the door open.’ Taking the pen from her mouth, she re-locates her page. ‘I’m glad you’re here actually, you’re usually pretty good at these. What’s another word for “the fates”? They’re the ones from Greek mythology, right? The three sisters? It’s six letters,’ she says, sitting up and crossing her legs.
‘Moirai,’ I answer, leaning against the archway.
She raises her eyebrows, scribbling it in. ‘Nice. How do you know this stuff?’
I pause for a moment. ‘I’m just smart,’ I conclude, failing to mention the embarrassing amount of mythology books I read once waking up in the afterlife as a demon.
‘Uh-huh, sure,’ Siara says, monotone. ‘Or more likely you just know a lot of useless stuff.’
She must be feeling better if she’s willing to test my patience.
‘How are you feeling?’ I ask anyway. Siara takes a few moments to consider. She starts to bite her cheek, something violent brewing behind her eyes.
‘Physically? Better, thanks for asking. You can tick that question off the checklist for today when you report back to the boss lady,’ she says, shining brightly with sarcasm. She snaps her book closed and I immediately wish I hadn’t asked. ‘Emotionally though? Well, I’m kind of pissed off.’
Yeah, I really wish I hadn’t asked.
‘Do you know why, William?’
It’s the first time she’s said my name and all I can think about is the fact that it feels particularly foreboding. ‘I can guess, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway.’
Siara smiles, sending chills down my spine. ‘Oh, you can guess, can you? Go on then.’
‘Because Charlotte–’
‘Because your girlfriend possessed me, that’s right. I’ve had time to process it now and it has occurred to me that I’m at a great loss here. I was in that state for months – months. I thought it was a couple of days, a week max, but months? That’s time I’ll never get back and now I learn that my promise with Heret-Kau is essentially void now. Charlotte tried to kill me just so she could hang out with you, and you knew and did nothing.’
I open my mouth in defence but I’m barely able to produce a sound before Siara’s fierce glare dares me to deny her. I abort, sucking in a small breath instead. I’m beginning to believe there aren’t many demons that are more frightening than her. ‘And there isn’t any excuse for that,’ she continues before simmering herself into silence. Mistakenly, I take this opportune pause to interject.
‘Look, with Charlotte, it wasn’t personal–’
‘It wasn’t personal? At what point does one take someone trying to steal their body as a personal attack? Is it before or after the person in question gets walked off a cliff?’ She whacks her book into my chest as she walks past, giving it to me without much context, and I begin to suspect it was done more as an excuse to hit me. I flick through its pages, all puzzles filled out. She’s been busy.
Her voice trails out down the hall. ‘That’s so like you.’ She walks into the kitchen, bringing an easy end to the conversation, but her last words nag at me.
I frown, placing the book on an old cabinet before trailing after her.
‘In my defence – I was involved in, and supportive of, the plan to separate her from you.’
Siara rolls her eyes, her attention on filling the kettle. ‘Because Heret-Kau asked you to.’
‘No, not because of that,’ I snap. It was my plan. I’m the one who thought up the loophole, I’m the one that forced the Goddess into action, not the other way around. It was me. Not her.
She looks over. ‘Then why?’
My face falls back to its expressionless default. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ I clear my throat, taking the chance to change the conversation. ‘Are you still ignoring Xander?’
‘Of course,’ Siara says, haughtily. ‘He deserves it, and so do you.’
‘So I’m guessing he told you then about the letter?’
She reaches for a mug on the top shelf with slight inconvenience though I know better than to offer my assistance right now. Even if she did need help, which she very obviously does, she wouldn’t want mine. Managing to grab it with the tips of her fingers and place it on the counter, her green eyes dart back to me, just as striking as they were when I first met her.
She’s definitely healthier now as opposed to a few weeks ago, her figure more solid and her face less gaunt. Even now when she speaks, there’s vitality. There’s life in her words. The past few months her face would remain stale, unmoving and cold. Now when she’s irritated, her face flushes slightly, blood rushing to her cheeks. For some reason, it’s actually comforting.
‘Are you even listening?’ she snaps.
‘Uh.’ I hadn’t even realised she had been talking.
‘I said, did you know about that too? The letter?’
Reading my blank expression, she continues, her face softening; not to the kindness she usually shows Xander. No, instead to the condescending, losing-her-patience smile that has lately been reserved especially for me.
‘The letter to me. From Rye. That Xander burned. Remember?’
Right. That’s what we were talking about.
‘I saw him do it,’ I confess without thinking. I need to pull myself together.
‘And you didn’t stop him,’ she remarks. ‘Why am I not surprised?’
‘He did it before I could do anything,’ I lie, somewhat unconvincingly. Siara arches an eyebrow.
‘You taught him how to use the burners. I remember because he wouldn’t stop talking about it for the whole day. That’s one of the days I do remember from the manor. That one and–’ She pauses, looking away awkwardly. ‘A different one.’ My heart falters, immediately knowing which one she means. I brush over it quickly, wiping the ice flower from my memory.
‘You should have seen him back when he first learned how to use the fireplace,’ I say, amused. ‘I’m glad it’s not just me now.’ Immediately, I realise my mistake and try to backpedal. ‘That has to deal with Xander, I mean.’
Siara smirks to herself, which irritates me more. Oh, that’s what she thought I meant to begin with. I flip the conversation back on her. ‘So how long are you going to pretend to be mad? I can tell you don’t care anymore by your heartbeat. It’s steady. People’s heartbeats quicken when they’re annoyed.’
