Page 52 of The Wicker King

Alex stared at them all, fiddling with her glasses in suspicion. “Am I missing something? What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” August shook Roger’s hand off his. “We’re fine.”

TIGHT

August shut the classroom door behind him, ignoring Mrs. Sirra’s angry shouting, and walked quickly down the hallway. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. His heart slammed against his rib cage like it was trying to leap out onto the linoleum. He stopped and leaned against the lockers near the gym, gasping for air. Sliding to the floor, he pressed his face against the cold metal.

He’d seen his mom have these. It was just a panic attack. He wasn’t dying, it was just a panic attack. They always passed. They were designed to pass.

The hallway swam before his eyes, so he closed them. August couldn’t afford to leave school early today. He had history next and he was only 3 percent away from getting a solid D. His GPA was already lower than it had ever been in his entire life, but getting less than a 3.0 was not an option if he wanted to go to college.

August pressed his cheek against the locker harder, squeezed his eyes so tight that tears leaked from the corners, and concentrated on getting his heart rate down.

He could do this. It was just school. School was easy. He could make up work. He could send out apologetic e-mails. He could ask for more time. He could settle for less than his best. He could do this. All he had to do was get up and breathe and finish the day.

Everything was going to be fine.

August pulled himself to his feet and lurched into the bathroom. He dug his lighter out of his backpack and flicked it on and off and on and off until the skin closest to the flames ran hot. Until his heart slowed down and he could see shapes dancing in the light. Until he could breathe again.

And suddenly, with a jolt of horror, he realized that he couldn’t live without it anymore.

It was as much a part of him as anything now. He couldn’t run from it any more than anyone could run out of their own skin. It would just keep coming back, over and over, curling up out of him, growing like hunger. He would crave the burn until he was dead. August curled up against the wall and put his head in his arms.

He gripped the lighter so tightly that his knuckles went white.

SAXON

The new grass tickled August’s cheek as they lay in the field, their coats and backpacks strewn around them.

“Tell me about the prophecy again.”

“Only if you eat this apple.”

August frowned at the request, but snatched it from Jack’s hand and took a large bite.

“Basically, the Wicker King, which is me, must return to the citadel as one-half of the prophecy. And the Wicker King’s knight and champion, which is you, must put the Rapturous Blue on the stand. Without both parts, the Cloven King has access to an unclaimed throne and there is no protection against the darkness and his horde of life-draining wraiths. Or whatever. Plus, not to worry you or anything, but if we don’t work on this, the influence of the citadel will spread and this world will be shrouded in despair until the end of time.”

“Okay … Now tell me about the fire.”

Jack waved something August couldn’t see away from his face, then continued. “It’s not so much fire we need, but an energy source. The Rapturous Blue doesn’t care if it’s free energy or destructive energy, only that there is enough of it to jump-start it. We could use electricity, but that’s a bit too complicated. We’d likely need about a bolt of lightning’s worth, and as much as I’d love to risk getting shocked to death, I wouldn’t want to see you accidentally killed.” Jack grinned softly at that. “Fire is a good substitute because the energy to destroy is wild, rampant, and cheap. We just need to figure out a way to create a decent amount of it.”

“We could burn a building.” August chewed contemplatively. “We could burn the toy factory around the stand.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Except that’s arson. Why can’t we just burn a bunch of stuff in the woods?”

“Do you really want to intentionally start a forest fire? It will spread to the town. They’ll put us away forever.”

“And they won’t if we burn down a whole fucking building?”

“Dude. The toy factory is abandoned. It’s been abandoned for more than twenty years. No one cares.” August lazily tossed the apple core to the side and flopped over.

Jack nodded slowly after he thought awhile. “Okay … Okay. If the water doesn’t work, we’ll do that. Whatever. We just need to hurry. The city is getting darker as he pushes closer to the citadel, and it’s wearing on me. The imperial hornets are coming out of the woodwork. We don’t have much more time.”

August didn’t know what that meant, but still, he trembled.

THREAD COUNT

August went downstairs and sat next to his mom on the futon. The Price Is Right was on. The television was loud and abrasive and he wished he could just smash the thing against the wall. “I have a question.”