Capitulum VI

B ack in purgatory, I was surprised when Rigel asked, "Fancy a drink?"

"Like, in the maze?" I asked, struggling to imagine myself sitting around the campfire at the center of the hedge maze on campus, drinking and laughing with the rest of the student body.

"Don't be boring," he chided with a wink.

An odd tingle of excitement surprised me.

"Oh, you want to sneak into town?"

He wiggled his eyebrows at me. "Scandalous, I know."

I smirked. "You're really nervous about seeing Lindy, then."

"Don't rub it in."

"Fine, you're buying, though." I grinned but then paused. "How do you buy things? Is there money?"

"It seems I'll be the one figuring that out."

We went invisible as we approached the bustling town. Many students were wandering in groups, clearly savoring the final evening of freedom before they were ensconced inside the campus for the upcoming academic year.

I recognized the pub from the end of last year and quickly pulled Rigel's sleeve to direct him toward it. The place was bursting at the seams, with people spilling out into the street in puffs of tobacco smoke and hoarse laughter.

Its entrance was tiny, clearly built when humans came in smaller packaging. I was able to tip my head into it, but Rigel rustled as he had to fold himself in half to get inside. Luckily, a sharp step down allowed more precious feet of headway for the patrons.

Almost like it had been designed to be crowded, the place was cozy. Curving logs holding the ceiling aloft bent away from the walking paths, like they had slowly grown out of people's way. Seats seemed to belong exactly where they were, like the wall and floor had been chiseled away just for them.

I'd been far too distressed to take it in the first time I'd been there. But the roaring fire emitted a familiar woody scent mingling pleasantly with the saccharine tang of the alcohol drawn from barrels behind the bar.

We snagged a cramped corner booth but had to become visible to claim it, which Rigel did without hesitation despite my grumbling.

"No one cares about some dumb lowerclassmen sneaking into a pub," he insisted.

"Maybe I just don't want to be seen with you. Have you ever considered that?" I asked with a smirk as I slipped into the booth.

"It is a humiliation I'd already come to terms with, so it didn't cross my mind." I raised my brows at him, but he just smiled and added, "A drink, then?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine."

He disappeared into the crowd, the top of his dark head weaving toward the bar. Whatever he scrounged up, I hoped it was something strong. I was struggling to shake the misery in my gut, but I was still crossing my fingers that it wasn't inebriation-proof.

Unfortunately, as my eyes lazily scanned the room, a shock of salt-and-pepper hair caught my attention, and I realized I wasn't about to feel better any time soon.

Among the patrons, I spotted a face I hadn't seen since I returned from that first accidental trip to Last Hope. Worse, even, he wasn't alone.

Professor Faun was at the bar, shoulder to shoulder with some woman, leaning into her as she whispered in his ear. The place was too noisy to translate her exact words, but the body language told me enough.

I watched in paralyzed horror as her hand slithered below the bar, settling on top of his thigh. Silently, I begged him to push her off. From my vantage point, I could only really see the side of his cheek, but I'd spent long enough watching him from afar to recognize the imprint of a smile.

When she rubbed back and forth, he pressed into the caress, and my stomach rolled. I wanted to cry or throw something at him; it was hard to distinguish the two urges.

After reading my history, I'd felt like a different person, but in my mind, he'd remained stationary. Part of me, the part desperately keeping my sanity in check, had relied on the fact that I meant something to him. But all this time, he'd been out doing...

Mental images shoved at the doors of my mind's eye, and it took everything in me to resist them as his arm circled the back of her chair.

The sudden smack of a pint of beer on the table in front of me had me shooting to my feet in surprise.

"Jeez, Agnes," Rigel laughed. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

I could tell he was waiting for me to roll my eyes at his joke, but my brain couldn't function enough to feign a reaction.

"Earth to Agnes," he said, tone still jovial as he brushed my shoulder.

The contact sent me over the edge, and I flinched. Unfortunately, the arm still holding the cane jerked, which resulted in me clearing the table next to us with a loud crash.

The two occupants jumped up, and the rest of the room fell quiet, collective breath held in preparation for a fight. They were huge, with teeth hanging from the chains around their necks.

Despite the surly characters crowding me, I couldn't help but look back at Professor Faun. This time, our eyes met.

Realization registered on his face, his hand coming up to his neck as though afraid his head would pop off from the shock.

The angry, beer-soaked patrons began yelling, covering my face with warm spittle. My mouth moved, desperately forming half-baked apologies as Professor Faun peered between his date and me.

It was clear she assumed he was just rubbernecking by the way she kept stroking him suggestively, trying to recapture his attention.

"Whoa, easy there, fellas," Rigel said, digging in his pockets.

Despite standing next to me, his voice was distant, almost muffled.

The woman's hand came to rest on Professor Faun's cheek, fingertips skipping over the rough texture of his new stubble.

"I'm going to hurl," I muttered, pushing toward the door without looking back.

Even outside, the summer air was stifling, making every gasping breath hard and unsatisfying. I dipped into the narrow alley between the pub and the auction house, where the shadows gave me privacy while I fought to gather myself.

Leaning back against the wall, I brought my hand up to rub my eyes, as if I could physically scrub the image of him with that woman off my cornea.

It was probably unfair to be so hurt. But despite how we'd left things, I'd had no interest in so much as breathing the same lungful of air as someone, and I'd assumed he felt the same.

Maybe these feelings weren't as earth-shattering to him as they were to me. Maybe moving on from everything hadn't been that hard for him. Because, despite how much I'd had rolling around in my head all summer, he'd always been there, hovering on the perimeter but never leaving.

If what he was doing in there was any indication, I'd vacated his brain the moment I was out of sight.

"Getting caught sneaking off campus by a professor is a terrible way to begin the academic year, Agnes," a familiar, scolding tone came from the mouth of the alley.

Professor Faun stood in silhouette a few feet from me. His hands were tucked in his pockets, but his tone was not as sheepish as I would have preferred.

"I'm surprised you noticed," I said with a scoff. "You seemed busy."

Shifting his profile, he checked his surroundings before stepping into the shadows with me.

Voice low, he said, "I'm sorry you had to see that. I can imagine it wasn't pleasant."

" Wasn't pleasant ? Go to hell."

"Agnes." He sighed. "We're not together. I can't just sit around and feel sorry for myself, and you shouldn't either."

"Well, I'm glad it's so easy for you. It must be nice not to give a shit."

He shook his head slowly, like he was disappointed, which only aggravated me further.

"The last time I checked, you didn't exactly come here alone."

I scoffed.

"Oh, please. Rigel? Give me a break."

"And if that's what you want"—he paused, lip curling—"then, I suppose that's your right."

I laughed in his face, saying, "How mature."

"One of us needs to be."

I took a step back from him, afraid that if I remained within physical violence range, I'd do something I'd regret.

"You want to know what sucks?" I shook my head. "I've spent so long missing you, and now I don't even want to look at you."

It was true. When I looked at the curve of his chest and the small triangle of flesh at the base of his throat, I could no longer see myself pressed there. Now I could only see her, which made me ill.

His face fell, and he reached for my cheek, the pad of his thumb skimming the corner of my mouth. Despite myself, I wanted him to keep going so badly my teeth ached.

Instead, he seemed to think better of it, retracting his hand to the safety of his pocket once more.

Releasing a long breath, I tried to keep myself from dissolving into pitiful tears at his feet. It would be too embarrassing, especially since he didn't know my entire—admittedly short—mortal life had been weighing on me like an anvil for weeks.

He didn't know he was the only person I'd wanted to comfort me the whole time.

"I could say more. I could stand here and tell you how miserable I've been as well. It would only hurt both of us more in the long run."

I was sure he was right in that infuriating, calculated way he always was.

"So, fucking someone else ASAP was supposed to be, what, tearing off the Band-Aid?"

"I had to dull the memory somehow, Agnes, or I would have lost my mind."

I recoiled from him in shock. " Dull the memory ?"

He winced. "No —t hat's not... I didn't mean it like that."

"I think I understand perfectly well what you meant."

He ran a hand up and down his face, taking a deep breath. "I assumed you'd be doing the same."

"Sorry to disappoint. I always figured it didn't matter how dull a blade was if it was already stuck between your ribs."

On some level, I wasn't being fair. He didn't owe me anything. If I could stomach it, I'd probably have considered something similar. But I couldn't, and he could. The pain of that fact was painting every other innocent factor red.

He leaned in, but then stopped, physically hoisting himself back to avoid getting within touching distance.

"This pain is for the best. I hope you can understand that eventually."

I shot him a crude, unconvincing smile. "Well, thank you for that lesson, Professor."

"You have no idea . . ."

His expression strained as he tried to put the latter half of the sentence into the right words.

He didn't get the chance, as footsteps were rounding the corner fast.

"All right, I think we're square, but we should probably leave," Rigel called. "Agnes? If you left without me, I swear—oh, there you are."

I glanced at the spot where Professor Faun had been standing. Even though it was empty, I could still feel him there, my body drawing toward him magnetically despite not being able to see him.

Suddenly, the stupid, impulsive part of my brain cooked up a plan for a crumb of revenge.

"You owe me big—"

I knotted my fingers into Rigel's collar and tugged his face to mine.

The kiss was short, bordering on violent. My lips were hard against his, but I was surprised when his chin tipped toward me at the last second, so our lips locked together perfectly. I'd been expecting to clack teeth or smash noses, but we moved into each other with surprising ease.

I was suddenly concerned that he actually had been expecting this, which had me pulling away before he got any other crazy ideas.

Rigel straightened his shirt in shock, eyes scanning me like I was an impostor. "Did someone sell you drugs while I was in there?"

"Sorry," I breathed, reorienting myself, suddenly aware of the empty pocket of air next to me.

Professor Faun had made a run for it, but I sincerely hoped he'd gotten an eyeful before he returned to his friend. If he thought this pain was good, then he should get the opportunity to feel it, too.

"Listen, Agnes . . ." Rigel began, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

I decided to cut that kite string before it could fly too high. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward campus. "Would you like me to forget about it and never mention it again, then?"

"Ideally."

"Fine, on the condition that I am allowed to weaponize it at least once."

I rolled my eyes. "Deal, I guess."

We strolled back through town, the stars swimming lazily overhead.

"I do respect your unique sense of showing gratitude, though. It was almost pleasant."

"What am I thanking you for again?" I asked with a groan.

"Paying for the drink that you immediately knocked over and then bribing the people you splashed to keep them from stringing us up in the town center."

"Fair enough," I said before something struck me. "Wait, how the hell did you pay?"

He winked. "I have my ways."

"Please don't tell me it's anything weird or illegal."

"No promises."

"Fine. I don't want to know, then."

"That's the spirit," he said. "And don't worry, I won't hold the botched night against you too badly."

I was tempted to remind him I hadn't exactly invited him out with me, but I had something better in mind. "And to think I assumed you liked the distraction from what is likely your impending breakup."

"Is that why you kissed me? You think I'm coming back on the market, and you're trying to get a bid in early?"

"I thought you were never going to bring it up again?" I asked, feigning a gag.

"I lied. It's a thing I'm known for."

I sighed deeply, fading my appearance to stage 3 transparency to keep anyone from recognizing me. "I have no interest in your wild oats. Fear not."

"My oats aren't wild yet." I didn't have to see him to hear the smirk in his voice. "Which leads me back to the question as to why I was the target of your lips only moments ago."

I laughed, still trying to play the whole thing off. On top of everything else from that day, the action had felt insignificant. But despite myself, warmth in my cheeks refused to dissipate.

"The same reason anyone kisses you—a serious lapse in judgment."

When he spoke next, his voice wasn't quite as confident. "Do you seriously think she'll break up with me now?"

"Is that a real question?"

"Regrettably."

To my surprise, the word came out heavy with genuine fear.

"Take a breath," I said, demonstrating a theatrical inhale. "Everything will be fine. You're obsessed with her. There's no way she'd give that up."

"Harsh."

" Honest ."

There was a stretch of silence, but it didn't fool me. I could feel him building to something.

"She loves me, too, you know," he finally said, failing at condescension.

The word just made me scoff. Cass had loved me. Professor Faun had loved me.

"My condolences to the both of you, then."