(8) St. Chroma
Riley’s expression shattered from smug to regret in an instant and all the color drained from her face. Of all the consequences dragging her best friend into this was the worst possible one. But there they were. Riley looked around the temple to find someone to help her repair this situation. Behind her Carter seethed in fury.
At a loss for a panacea Riley grasped at straws. “I volunteer for the youngest person who was chosen.”
A mid-twenties boy saw his chance and skedaddled through the door without a beat.
Carter screeched out, “What!”
Saint had been watching everything since Carter’s declaration of the ritual with his usual wide-eyed look of helplessness. Carter’s outburst seemed to finally shake his voice back.
“I volunteer for the next youngest person chosen.”
Riley looked at him with exasperation. “That’s me you idiot.”
“You weren’t chosen, Riley, you volunteered.” He looked around with a great heaving sigh. He pointed at a woman, “I volunteer for you.”
Like the boy, the woman didn’t wait to ask any questions. She muttered, “Ok.” And slid out of the room. She hadn’t needed to be so nervous, the siblings were deep into their usual nastiness already.
“Shit, Riley I am trying to save your stupid plan here.”
This had jumped Carter off, “I knew it! You two are making plans behind my back!”
“I am just trying to save my friend and make sure this family doesn’t kill anybody today!”
Bliss looked surprised. “You didn’t need to do that Riley. There is literally no way I am going anywhere near whatever that house.”
It all got lost in a wall shaking, “Stop it!”
This had burst forth from Marquis Roarke. Once he had everyone’s attention he declared, “This is exactly what I told Victoria I wouldn’t do. I absolutely will not stand here beholden to you- you-” He struggled for a moment. “Children!”
Bliss looked at him, stunned. “Dad. You have to stop this.”
But that was all the flustered excitement the Marquis had been able to manage. He grumbled about going to do his actual job in the basement. His last audible words were, “Do whatever you want and may the gods smile upon you.” And then he was gone.
His departure seemed to be a sort of silent signal because the Lords and everyone else shuffled to the basement in his wake.
Carter spoke and it was almost incomprehensible with graveled anger.
“You have undermined me in front of the entire town on my first day in this incredibly prestigious position that I thought you respected. I see now that you don’t.”
Riley fought back, “This isn’t about you.”
But Carter held up her hand, cutting her off. “You three have done enough to humiliate our families. Now you are going to deal with the consequences and fix it.”
Without another word, or a chance for anyone else to offer one, she turned on her heel and click clacked her way through the door to the basement.
There was an impenetrable distress covering those left in the temple. Five people chosen, now left alone to deal with the stench and mess left behind from the ritual. Of course, Riley, Saint and Bliss. And then the other two who had been left out of the volunteer lottery.
There was a guy named Ashton who had only been in Hillcross for a little over a year, and was largely unknown to the other people there. And then an older man, Lou, who did menial tasks around the village.
There seemed to be an expectation that given his short stay there that Ashton would be the most unhappy about being asked to fight a monster for Hillcross. But he dispelled that quickly.
With an oversized smile that was more than a little off-putting he declared, “I’m going to my place to get weapons. And call me Ash, please.”
When Bliss asked if he was sure, he started talking about how he was never going to get another chance to fight a house and then he left.
Everyone watched after him with a mix of awe and concern. Lou tried to break the silence that fell after the door closed, “I am also fully prepared to do my duty.”
But the energy he received back wasn’t the same as it was with Ash. Somehow his show of support didn’t hit the group the same with his doughy frame and kind eyes.
Riley turned to Bliss, “I am sorry for dragging you into this. Literally.”
Bliss turned to answer but she was interrupted by Saint making a noise. “Where’s my apology? Your dumb plan screwed me up too.”
Bliss’s response was clearly for both of them but it wasn’t aggressive. She sounded sad. “No need to apologize Riley. This isn’t your fault.” She looked at Riley and added, “Oh, sweetheart.” She licked her thumb and started going at Riley’s face.
Riley looked at her hands and realized too late that she was still a child, covered in graphite.
Saint had kept going, “I think that’s debatable.”
Lou took a shot at being the grownup in the room, but lacked any status to back it up. “I am going to get us some food to take?”
Riley shook her head and walked away from the argument unraveling behind her. Bliss trying to convince everyone going was stupid. Lou stuck on mundanity as if it mattered. Everyone frenzied and in their own bubble of convictions. Like angry bees performing an interpretive dance.
Riley’s smudged hands ran along the framed poetry on the wall. Trying to catch the history in her hands and hold onto it. To remember when she had believed without fear. She had just come across a familiar old poem, with a festival version written out and tucked into the frame. Riley grabbed the written version and carried it with her back over to the group.
At the same time there was a din of commotion at the door. Ash was fighting his way through the door, belabored with duffel bags and an assortment of weapons. He walked to the front of the temple and laid the pile down on the floor where Carter had stood.
Riley shook her head, “Really?”
Ash looked at her wide eyed and innocent. “What?” He looked around. “I didn’t know what we needed to kill a house.”
The truth of it sat weighted between them. But Riley didn’t pull back. “That’s right. We are going to fight a house that has destroyed at least one village we know of. Five were chosen, and five will fight. In seasons we stand, as the fields that shall be tended.”
Riley held up the hand written poem as she quoted it. The way they all would have quoted it at a festival at some point or another. She received mixed reactions from the group. Lou looked excited, like Riley was finally getting it. Ash was unimpressed.
Saint wasn’t quite willing to give into Riley using the town’s structures against him so effectively. “There has to be something in the archive. I can’t think of anything. Riley?”
She didn’t answer, which everyone took to mean no.
Bliss said, “I don’t get why everyone is acting like just because Carter and my dad say something we have to do it. Because I still don’t think any of us should go.”
She looked around with expectation on her face, thinking that more of the group was going to back her up. But no one did. Riley looked around at everyone and took a deep breath.
“This is an incredibly stupid thing to do. Bliss is right, no one has to go. But I am going to protect Hillcross.”
Saint made a little finger point from Riley to where she had taken the poem off the wall. It wasn’t even the framed photo but apparently Saint couldn’t help himself. Neither could Riley. She stuck her tongue out at Saint and shoved the paper into her pocket where unbeknownst to him she also had the handkerchief tucked.
After their exchange Riley finished her thought. “So, are we the seasons or what?”
Lou, with a heart in the right place but not ready for that level of youth-speak responded, “I will do my duty.”
Riley nodded. “Sure, I’ll take it. Ash?”
“I think you would waste your energy trying to stop me.”
Saint answered in a nearly opposite tone. “Right. I guess I’m a season now.”
Ash started handing out weapons to everyone. He was passing one to Riley, but she was paying attention to Bliss who had been standing with arms crossed and suspiciously quiet while everyone else spoke.
“Bliss? You wanna be my season?”
Bliss looked at Riley from the side, and gave the barest shake of her head. “Riley, you are my peach. But I wouldn’t quote that shit as a child and I won’t do it now.”
In Riley’s distraction, the situation went awry as Ash handed her a knife. He was handing it to her hilt first, a nasty-sharp double-bladed dagger. But Riley clumsily knocked the hilt on one of the scratches on her wrist busting it open on one side. Ash, thinking he had made a mistake pulled back and sliced the inside of his hand on the blade.
Riley waved the other three on ahead while they bandaged themselves up. It only took an extra second, but just as they were about to leave and join the rest Ash told Riley, “Excellent work. That was very convincing.”
Riley looked at him confused. He waved his hand, and tilted his head away to say, forget it. Then he flashed that same unhinged, confident smile.
Riley smiled back with a dash of concern.
