Page 83 of Icarus

“Helios?”

Helios tore himself away from Icarus so fast and violently that he slammed into the shelf beside them. Bottles of paint rained down, plastic bouncing and rolling; glass shattered and sent color across the floor like an arc.

Icarus and Helios looked at the door, then back at each other, panting and terrified.

Mr. Black was home early.

Whole

“What was that noise?”

Mr. Black was headed up the stairs.

Icarus looked helplessly at his only exit. In order to get back to his stuff, he would have to go out into the main hall to duck into another wing. He couldn’t do that without passing Mr. Black, or at least being seen.

“Into the bathroom,” Helios said urgently. “There’s a window there. Come back for your stuff later.”

Helios wrenched the door open and pushed Icarus inside. As Icarus went, he snatched another drawing off the floor and shoved it in his pocket.

Icarus tugged at the window, but it was sticking. He could probably get it open but definitely not quietly enough while Mr. Black was in the room. So, instead, he just stood there shaking, listening to the sound of paper being hastily shuffled as Helios tried to clean.

“Why are you in here?” Mr. Black shouted.

“I’m sorry!” Helios cried. “Don’t come in, there’s glass!”

The sound of things crashing filled the room from the front to the back of the room where they were, as Mr. Black crossed it.

“Please, I’m sorry!” Helios begged.

Icarus could tell the moment Mr. Black reached Helios from the hysteria in his screams. Icarus crouched down near the ground and pressed his palms into his eyes, trying desperately not to cry. His back was wet with sweat.

“You’ve ruined everything,” Mr. Black hissed, and Helios sobbed.

Icarus could hear him scrabbling on the floor. Hear the crunch of glass, hear the breath Helios choked out as Mr. Black’s fist connected with his skin. It got quiet and Icarus’s heart stumbled.

He put his hand on the doorknob.

“No. Nononononononono.”

Mr. Black was whispering something to Helios and Icarus couldn’t hear it.

“No, please!” Helios shrieked and there was a terrible racket as Mr. Black dragged Helios across the floor, glass and all. Icarus pressed himself against the door and sobbed silently. Curling his fingers into the wood.

“—ish I could just go. I wish I could just go. Just go.” Icarus’s eyes snapped open. Helios was talking to him.

He took one last beat to listen then followed orders, wrenching the window open with a whine.

This was the third floor. Normally, he’d be anxious about climbing down without his gear—without his shoes. But adrenaline is something special. He scampered over the side of Helios’s house like it was what he was made for, and he sprinted down the sidewalk in his socks. He didn’t look back.

He just fled.

Weeds

Icarus’s socks were torn to shreds by the time he made it to his street.

He collapsed into his front yard, gasping.

He started to climb up the stairs, but his throat tightened and he ran back down them to vomit neatly into the hedge.