Instead of reading the letters individually, she combines the first two.
The twenty-second letter of the alphabet isV.
Veda.
Now she’s invested. She sits down at the table, making dozens of guesses, filling in letters until one finally forms a word she recognizes.
19-1-14-7-21-9-19
Sanguis.
Blind to everything except her destination, Veda runs out the door. Trees dwarf her on all sides, casting odd shadows in the setting sun. The air is charged with an electric expectancy. She stumbles, trying to catch her breath and ease the burn in her chest, but doesn’t stop until she clears the tree line outside Weston Academy.
Sunset makes the world look peaceful, but Veda is not as she searches each barn and animal unit until she finds Dr. Simpson. He’s kneeling, checking a sheep’s hoof, but her arrival brings him to his full height. “What are you doing here?”
“I decoded your note,” Veda replies, stone-faced and breathing heavily. “What thehelldo you know about Sanguis?”
Everett tenses, then picks up his bag and leaves the sheep pen. Veda steps back, more so when he rubs his neck, choosing his words carefully. “I know the Sanguis Curse is in you.”
“How?”
“Your marks. The potions Everly brews. She can’t always find living sheep’s horn powder, so she asks me. I ...” He points to her, starts to say more, but shudders instead, fists curling at his sides. “Curses of the blood are difficult to cast, easy to contaminate, and difficult to cure. But nothing is impossible.”
Hope sparks where resignation once reigned. Still skeptical, torn between listening and leaving, she stays rooted. “How do you know this?”
“Mineis incurable. It looks nothing like yours.”
Veda recoils. “You’re cursed?”
“Something like that,” Everett replies cryptically. “There’s no name for what was done to me. Not a curse, not a malediction, more like a cage. The closer I get to telling a certain truth, the further I descend into madness. Truth is both my liberator and captor.”
Horrified, Veda wants to ask who did this to him, but she’s sure he can’t answer. “Can it be undone?”
“No.” He winces, dropping his bag and clutching his side. “I can’t say more.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“You ... and the person who cursed me.” Everett dry heaves, covering his mouth, eyes flashing red before he closes them tight.
“Your eyes.” Veda steps back. “Is that part of the curse?”
“Yes,” he replies shakily. “I Saw their real face in a vision. I found them. They promised to turn themselves in, but I woke up cursed.”
“You could run.”
“That’s what they wanted me to do, but I can’t. I’ve Seen what’s coming. I’ll never be free until everyone knows the truth.” He wipes his bleeding nose, bitterly murmuring, “Past. Present. Future.Birth. Life. Death.They don’t care for natural order and disrespect the rules of Sight.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you should go to the FCD and—”
“No,” Everett snaps. “The sheep is a wolf.”
She has no idea what that means. “I don’t trust many people, but Gabriel and Francisco can help you. I can call them now, and we can meet outside the department.”
“Not yet. Tell them if you must, but I have a few last things to do.”
Veda can’t imagine what could be more important. She pulls out her phone, only for Everett to tense. “What is it?”
“The one who cursed you is trapped and does not yet know it.Youare their answer and also their downfall.” Everett drops to his knees, head hanging as blood drips onto his shirt. The shift in him is alarming. His shoulders stiffen, veins appear, sweat beads at his hairline. He pants and trembles violently.
