Capitulum XXXIII

" O ur Professor Faun here has decided he's ready to retire."

Gasps erupted from around the room, overshadowed by the sound of me trying to leap out of my seat.

Rigel stopped me, hands coming around me in an embrace I couldn't shake.

My cane clattered out of my reach as I tried to writhe free.

Ephraim's eyes went to me for a flash. "This is a decision you will all have to face at some point when you decide that your path here has run its course. You shouldn't fear it. It is only the next step. The only end is your role here in this world."

A high-pitched whine leaked from my throat, and a hand clasped over my mouth to stifle it. My eyes were blurring as Ephraim stepped back and gave the podium over to Faun.

"I would like to take the opportunity to thank the Academy for allowing me to teach here for so many years. And all of you, of course, for giving me the best of the best to teach."

He cleared his throat, and my tears gathered in the crook of Rigel's hand, where he was holding my mouth closed.

"I came here as a student many years ago because I was always desperate to seek answers." He paused again, clearing his throat and gripping the podium with white knuckles. "But I wanted to tell everyone that I figured out what I'd died looking for without even realizing it. That the answer to why and for what is different for every person. It takes different forms. And for many, including myself, it was true, unselfish love."

The room hummed with gasps.

But all I could do was think back to what he'd said to me earlier in the year.

They'll have to take me first.

His eyes scanned the room as he continued. "It is the only thing that can make any sacrifice pale in comparison. So, I want everyone here to know I make this choice peacefully and with complete trust that it won't be wasted."

He paused, scanning the crowd. In a desperate attempt for him to know I was there, I kicked the pew in front of me, causing the yearlings to grunt in surprise.

His eyes went to the empty air where I was sitting, and he only offered a small nod before stepping back from the podium.

"Thank you, Faun, I'm sure everyone here wishes you luck in your next phase of existence."

Ephraim's words were polite but clipped.

The two men shook hands, and Faun turned to the black door behind him.

I wanted to fight, to scream, to run after him. But I felt frozen, like if I didn't move, time would crystallize around me, keeping us here.

He offered the crowd one more smile before turning and disappearing into the darkness.

His hands that had touched me, his lips that had kissed mine, his eyes that I'd stared into — one by one they were all swallowed up by the empty, silencing darkness.

Gone.

~

I was so numb even my brain refused to register what happened past that point. The scene only came to me in flashes. The room cleared out, including Stacy, who got up to help usher the students outside, where they would all drink, laugh, and enjoy the summer ahead.

All I could do was sit, eyes locked on the spot behind the podium. He was there. He was right there. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The only part that felt real was cold emptiness slowly numbing me from the inside out.

At some point, Rigel finally let me go, and I came back into view.

We sat there for a long moment in silence.

"I'm so sorry, Agnes," he finally said, breaking the spell. "I had to do it."

I was more annoyed that he'd talked, popping the bubble, forcing me out of a moment I hadn't been ready to leave.

I finally turned to him, my head feeling light and distorted as I whispered, "What?"

"They weren't going to let you stay. All the stuff you did would be too much of a risk to keep you around. Unless..."

"What did you do, Rigel?"

He drew in a long breath before he said the words. "I told Ephraim that you lied and that Professor Faun traded knowledge about your human life in exchange for sexual favors."

"You . . ."

His words floated around my head, refusing to truly sink in.

He continued, as though more words were the key to subduing the rage building inside me.

"Because if they thought you'd been manipulated, it wouldn't be you that was a liability. You'd be allowed to stay."

" You ..." I tried again, but I still couldn't find the rest of the sentence.

"It was the only way. You need to stay. You need to be there for your daughter — "

I lunged at him, wrapping my hands around his throat as we tumbled.

Our thrashing tipped the pew, and it hit the wood floor with a loud crack.

"Don't you dare use my daughter to justify what you've done!" I screamed.

"I had to do it. He didn't even deny it. He knew it was the only way — "

I pummeled his face. "You're a selfish piece of shit! You just wanted me for yourself. Don't fucking lie."

He tried to answer, but I punched him in the mouth before he got the chance. The face I had touched so many times, those delicate bird bones, cracked against my fist.

"On the contrary," he spat, blood settling in the cracks of his lips. "I finally did what you told me."

I was about to land another blow to his face when hands caught me by the arm and drug me upward.

Rigel flipped onto his side and spat, a long, rooted canine skittering across the wood.

"I knew you were going to hate me," he wheezed. "I knew you'd hate me forever."

Trying to reach him to land another blow, I kicked. I needed him to feel more pain, needed him to suffer more in any way I could manage.

I hadn't even thought to see who was holding me until my elbow swung back, and I heard a raptor squawk in my ear.

"Agnes, you need to calm down."

Ephraim's voice was in my other ear, grunting with the effort of keeping hold of me.

"I'm going to kill him," I screamed, not caring who heard or what happened.

"Let's go," he grunted, dodging another blow from my thrashing elbows as he dragged me toward his office door sitting open against the wall nearby.

The door closed once we were inside, and he threw me into the chair.

"Jesus," he wheezed. "You're stronger than you look."

"I want to go through the door," I panted, returning to my feet only to fall face-first to the floor.

At some point during the scuffle, my foot had flown off without me realizing it.

"I wouldn't be too hasty about that," Ephraim grunted, helping me back into the chair before pulling the other around to face mine.

I'd never seen him sit in a seat other than his own. It felt wrong.

"Agnes," he said, sandwiching my hands between his. "I just wanted to say how truly sorry I am. It's my fault you ended up in this situation. I should have known it wasn't a good idea to let Professor Faun be alone with you so much. I should have intervened when I first had my suspicions. But I'd just hoped I was wrong to worry. I trusted the wrong person, and it's created such a mess."

"But he didn't — "

"There's no use in lying for him anymore."

Despite myself, a sob hiccupped up my throat, and I curled over our joined hands. I was surprised to feel Ephraim gently stroke the back of my head.

"I don't doubt that the pain you're feeling right now is unbearable. But please understand that it's for the best, and one day, you will realize that what he did to you wasn't love."

"He didn't..." I wept, but Ephraim shushed me gently.

"No one thinks less of you, Agnes. No one thinks you're stupid. Love has backward hooks. No matter what, it shreds everything on the way out."

"You don't understand."

He chuckled. "I have been around for a long time. Trust me when I tell you I understand more than you expect."

I wept, my quivering lips unable to form words. Finally, I managed to ask, "Why did you make me watch?"

He didn't answer, so I finally met his eyes, seeing them lined with regret.

"I understand that it feels cruel, but we needed you to see so you wouldn't go looking for him. You needed to know he was gone."

Gone.

It was only four letters, but the word filled up every corner of my brain, distorting every other possible thought.

I pressed my forehead hard into our joined fists, feeling the bite of his rings against my skin.

"Just let me go. I don't want to be here anymore."

"This pain will pass."

"It won't."

"We have something to offer you that might incentivize you to stay."

"I don't care."

"That's too bad," said a new voice as someone took shape in the chair across the desk. "Because you don't really have a choice regardless."