“I mean it. Later, ok?” I responded with a
commanding edge.
She pursed her lips and squinted aggressively at
Ren before defiantly crossing the room and settling in her seat.
On cue, Mrs. Hildebrand glided into the room
oblivious of the recent mayhem and greeted the class predictably. I reached
across the aisle and laid a hand on Bryn’s arm. We exchanged meaningful glances
before she smiled. I gave her a squeeze and mouthed a thank you to her before
sinking back into my seat.
As Mrs. Hildebrand conducted her morning ritual of
roll call and announcements, I became acutely aware of Ren’s piercing stare.
Unable to ignore him completely, I was annoyed by his expression of concern and
confusion. How could he be ignorant of the trials I’d endured over the last two
days? I fumed.
When the bell rang, I leaned toward Bryn and
whispered a promise to fill her in later along with a solemn plea not to worry.
Carefully ignoring Ren’s attentive stare, I merged into the stream of students
funneling out the door into the crowded hallway.
My first period was study hall and I charged
determinedly toward the library. Darting through the thick crowd I hoped to
shake the nagging hum off my shoulders. Despite my best effort, Ren managed to
catch me just as I slammed through the heavy metal doors, breaking free of the
building.
“Just answer one question for me. Is it real?” I
demanded in a harsh whisper, without breaking my stride.
“Eliza, please stop! I’ll tell you anything you want
to know to the extent that I have the knowledge.” Ren’s pleading tone was
resigned but his confusion apparent.
The sorrowful edge to his voice cast doubt across
my assumption that he’d deceived me. My anger dampened, I tugged his sleeve to
pull him into a quiet enclave against the building. Shielded from the stream of
students rushing to class, I faced him and discretely revealed my wrists.
“In case you’re wondering why I’m angry. See
exhibit A.” I gestured dramatically toward each wrist.
“So obviously the wounds remain but what I need to
know is, are the consequences real?” I demanded again.
Ren’s eyes grew wide with shock and a flicker of
panic waved in his pupils. His mouth twitched but he didn’t speak. His reaction
created a sinking crater in my chest, as if my heart was imploding. He had not
expected this. His fingers trembled as he reached for my hands then touched my
wrists and inspected the wounds.
“How exactly did this happen?” He asked cautiously
raising his eyes to meet mine.
“Well, let’s see, I freaked out when I found
myself shackled in a medieval prison and managed to slice my wrists in the
process.” I spat sarcastically.
“And by the way, no, the lesson was not mastered.”
Tears gathered in my eyes.
Ren’s forehead creased.
“Yes.” He whispered, his eyes a reflection of my
despair.
“Yes, what?” I shrugged my shoulders exasperated.
He cleared his throat, before speaking.
“The answer to your question… about the
consequences. Yes, they are real.” He said grimly.
Sucking in a breath to staunch the sob building in
my chest, I rolled my eyes to the sky.
“So is this normal?” I asked.
Ren shook his head incredulous as he responded.
“No, certainly not in your first lesson. Yes, the
scenarios can certainly be challenging, even frightening at times but they’re
generally not so intense that you’re truly in danger. From the look of your
wrists… I’m not sure what you did or didn’t do to deserve that.” His voice
trailed.
“Deserve this? What is that supposed to mean? I
was dropped into a medieval prison and shackled within the first thirty
seconds. Are you implying that I was punished for missing something?” I
responded sharply.
Ren pursed his lips.
“No… not necessarily but sometimes, if a student
misses a clue that she should be able to spot the consequence can be a bit of a
physical reminder, so to speak.” He responded hesitantly.
Ren stared at my wrists again thoughtfully, a
puzzled expression on his face.
“I suppose a lesson could be more severe in order
to pressure the student to learn more quickly out of necessity.” He said.
The bell rang signaling the commencement of second
period. I pulled my hands away responding to the urge to rush to class. Ren
caught my hands before I escaped.
“Eliza, don’t touch your primer again until we
have time to figure this out.” His voice saturated with worry. He began to step
away from me, clearly hesitant to release me from his sight.
“Ren, wait.” I’d somehow forgotten to address one
of the most disturbing details of my lesson.
He stopped and I stepped forward, closing the gap
between us. Most of the students languishing in transit had scattered at the
sound of the bell. No one would likely notice or care about our conversation.
“There was a little boy in the prison. He was so
young and helpless. I don’t know if he’s even real but I’m worried that there
may not be much time left for me to save him. Is that possible? Could I go back
and it will be too late?” The sudden revelation fell like a rock to the pit of
my stomach.
Ren looked thoughtful and cast his eyes to the
ground. Clearly, it was possible I could return too late.
“I can’t wait much longer then. Ready or not, I
have to try.” I said gloomily. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to save myself much
less anyone else.
Ren tentatively reached for me and clasped my
hands.
“We’ll practice. But please, promise me, you will
not crack that book again today.” He begged.
“I’m certainly not in any condition to go back
now.” I sulked.
“I’ll see you at lunch. We’ll discuss it then.
Alright?” He said with a forced grin.
“Yeah, see you then.” I replied and watched him
jog off to his next class.
Alone, I cut across a small grassy lawn toward the
library. The autumn wind swept across the field. It rifled my clothing and
crept between the seams sending shivers down my limbs. I quickened my pace to
the doors.
Once inside, I strolled between the stacks hoping
to come across the section I needed without having to look it up. The computers
used to search for books stood next to a very nosy librarian. After several
minutes of searching in vain, I discretely slunk toward the computers and
entered my search item.
Medieval
Torture Witch
The bony middle-aged librarian watched me closely,
looking for a sign of distress. I focused intently on the screen hoping to exude
an air of confidence. After what seemed like an eternity of fidgeting and
looking quite busy, several book titles appeared. I scribbled down the books’
location, gathered my things and dashed toward the nearest row of shelves like
a deer into the trees.
Safely tucked between the screen of shelves, I
relaxed enjoying the momentary peacefulness of being surrounded by rows upon
rows of books. Old and new, the scent of paper aging and the cozy silence of
the library was comforting. I searched the stacks for the location on the scrap
of paper in my hand.
I gathered the books that looked most helpful and
settled into a chair by a window to scrutinize my catch. After yawning through
dense chapters filled with drab historical details of medieval life, I turned a
page to find a sketch that froze the blood in my veins. A woman tied to a chair
suspended above a rushing river. The description explained that ‘water torture’
was used most frequently in the case of suspected witches to force a confession
from the prisoner.
The image of the chair in the dim, sweltering
stone room flashed behind my eyes. A cool sweat spread across my forehead and
neck. A confession.
And what if I did confess? Was that the key to the
riddle of my first lesson? A flurry of students rushing down the aisle
interrupted my thoughts. I glanced at my watch noting that the period was up. I
left the books on the table and rushed through the stacks, down the stairs and
out the door without looking back.
Lines like a rat racing through a maze sketched
the image of the witch suspended over a river on the canvas of my mind.
Oblivious to the activity in my classes, I mentally raced after the lines
struggling to solve the riddle and change the outcome of the picture. Yet, it
didn’t make sense. How would a confession to my captor satisfy a lesson in mind
manipulation? Baffled, I ambled listlessly into the cafeteria in search of
lunch.
Standing in line, a tingling vibration alerted me
to Ren’s presence. It was clear he was as shocked by the scenario the primer
had given me as I was. This grim fact suggested that we both had our work cut
out for us. My goal, to stay alive and rescue Benjamin, and Ren, convinced of
his duty as my pharos to protect me, would have to help me accomplish it.
“Hi.” I said weakly, while reaching for a grilled
cheese sandwich beneath a heat lamp.
“An uneventful morning, I take it?” He asked
optimistically.
“I suppose you could say that. I found some
information at the library but I have no idea how it will help me.” I shrugged
pushing through the crowd of students congregated at the end of the lunch line.
Ren stepped to my side as I passed through the
checkout line.
“Eliza, wait. I have an idea.” He said in a hushed
tone.
The din of a hundred conversations echoed off the
tile floor and windows creating a shield of privacy for our conversation.
Across the room, Bryn and Pete sat chatting at a table by the windows. Bryn’s
eyes locked with mine then squinted suspiciously at Ren. I turned to Ren and
smiled casually for Bryn’s observation.
“Alright. What’s your idea?” I asked gesturing
with my eyes toward Bryn and Pete’s curious stares.
Ren nodded acknowledging the fact that we were
being watched.
“Time is short and you need practice. I was
thinking.” His brow bent and his gaze fell to the floor self-consciously. I
scoured his face and was surprised to see a tinge of pink rising up his neck.
“Ren, it’s ok, just tell me. Look, I’m sorry for
being so mean earlier today. I just thought, well, it felt like you’d set me
up.” I confessed.
Ren’s eyes rose and seized my gaze sharply. “Set
you up?” He asked taking offense.
I shrugged again, unashamed of the assumption.
“Well, yeah, I can see now that you weren’t expecting me to have such a tough
time with this lesson but my first assumption was that you’d done it on
purpose. You know, like some sort of rite of passage or something. I was mad
but I’m not anymore. Besides, I need your help. Ok?” I offered.
A spark of anger flashed in Ren’s eyes.
“You really thought I’d subject you to something
like that without warning?” One corner of his mouth lifted forming a sarcastic
grin.
“Well, what was I supposed to think?” I asked
flatly in return.
Ren’s lips drew together tightly before he spoke.
“Alright, but Eliza I hope you know that I am
trying to help. There’s no instruction manual for me either… I’m doing the best
I can. Which brings me to my idea.” He said conspiratorially.
“As we both know, there’s little time and you need
practice. I was thinking that you should practice on Bryn.” Though the white noise
of the cafeteria screened our conversation, Ren’s voice dropped at the
suggestion.
I frowned in disgust. Ren raised his brows and
squinted hard at me as if willing me to take his message to heart before speaking.
As I opened my mouth to object, my voice caught in my throat. The necessity and
sheer urgency of my situation caused me to pause and reconsider.
The fact stood that I did need practice. Besides
that, Bryn’s thoughts and feelings about Ren were completely false and I had no
idea how to correct them without causing further curiosity. Though I wasn’t
entirely comfortable with the maneuver, seeing Jane’s complete recovery from
mind manipulation gave me confidence that I could pull it off without causing
Bryn harm. As my stomach growled reminding me that time was ticking away, I
made my decision.
“Ok, I’ll try.” I said with resolve.
Ren sucked in a breath and nodded at my decision.
Then, softly added.
“Alright then, I’ll find a way to distract Pete while
you work on Bryn.”
Like two robbers enacting a plan to heist a bank,
we strode casually toward the table where Bryn and Pete sat. Bryn’s expression
darkened as we approached, her eyes followed Ren as if daring him to test her.
A tinge of guilt stung me as I observed her protective instincts.
Without question she had loyally come to my aid
and now I planned to manipulate her without giving her the benefit of the
truth. Yet, I realized that by shielding her from the truth I was protecting
her. Painfully, I also acknowledged that I had recently become dangerous
company to keep.
My gazed focused singularly on Bryn’s face and I
braced myself for the level of concentration I’d needed when bending Jane’s
mind. A low buzz filled my ears blocking out the cafeteria din. In my periphery
vision, I noted Ren leading Pete away from the table. As my mind quickly
tallied the mental ingredients necessary to pull off the trick of ensnaring
Bryn’s consciousness, I became aware that the pressure I was under mentally and
emotionally was in fact working to my advantage. I was focused, sharp and
ready.
I reached the table and set my tray down without
taking my eyes off Bryn’s. She was watching me but not focused. Her eyes
flitted over my body, my food and glanced warily at Pete and Ren’s retreating
figures. I would have to capture her attention so intensely that she would
focus entirely on me to make the endeavor a success.
With a deep breath, I licked my lips, my mouth
suddenly parched. I spoke as if the message I had to give Bryn was of vital
importance.
“Bryn, thank goodness we’re alone. I need to
explain before Ren gets back.”