I slam my spear shaft against a coffin lid. The sound echoes sharply off the stone walls, makes everyone jump, makes Bishop stop. These boys are going to tear each other apart if I don’t do something.
“That’s enough! You”—I point the spear at Gaston—“will stop insulting everyone, and you”—I point it at Bishop—“will stop puffing up your chest every time someone says something you don’t like, and you”—I point the spear at O’Malley—“will stop pulling that knife, or I will take it away, and you”—I point it at Aramovsky—“will stop talking about gods and magic and other such foolishness.”
When the echo of my words dies down, there is no noise. No one speaks.
O’Malley stays quiet. My rant doesn’t seem to have bothered him. He lowers the knife. Bishop looks down at the floor. So does Gaston.
Aramovsky stares straight at me, his nostrils flaring.
“We are in a magic prison,” he says quietly. “Monsters have taken Bello. I will keep quiet for now, but if you think that what we have seen is foolishness, then you do not believe what your own eyes show you.”
Spingate and the others watch the five of us, waiting to see what happens next.
Bishop is all emotion. He wants to rush off without thinking, without making a plan. His passion is contagious, but I can’t let it sway me. We have lost three people—I can’t bear to lose any more.
O’Malley is the opposite of Bishop. He always seems to think things through. I need his opinion.
“I saw Bishop kill the monster,” I say. “He’s right, O’Malley—our circle-stars are faster and stronger. So why do you say strength and speed don’t matter?”
“Because of the bracelet,” he says. “If the monster was going to shoot you with it, that means they can hit us from a distance. Now that we’ve killed one of theirs, I doubt if they’ll let us get close again. Strength and speed don’t matter if the monsters can shoot us before we get near them.”
That didn’t occur to me. We don’t know what the bracelets do, but we have to assume whatever they “shoot” can hurt us, maybe kill us. O’Malley is right.
Bishop doesn’t give up.
“Then we stay quiet and hidden,” he says. “We slip into the Garden, sneak into the woods, and we find Bello.”
He’s desperate to go after her. He’s ashamed he left her behind. So am I, but I can see it’s worse for him. It’s tearing him apart. I want to save her, too, or at least find out if she’s dead, but if those bracelets really are weapons, we…
Wait a second—Gaston’s story about the haunted room, with the three unbroken pillars.
“Bishop, the spear,” I say. “You found it stuck in a body. Gaston said that body had something on its arm. Gaston, what did you call it?”
“A shackle,” Gaston says. His eyebrows rise, he looks at Bishop. “The monster’s bracelet, was it the same thing we saw on that body?”
Bishop thinks, then nods. “Yes. I should have thought of that, but when I saw that thing attacking Em, I…well, I should have thought of that.”
My thoughts race, but this time, it isn’t about boys or who wants to lead, it isn’t about who is the prettiest.
It’s about staying alive.
We walked in a circle. It doesn’t matter if that was because of magic, or gods, or by some means Spingate can’t quite explain. What matters is we wound up back where we started. As far as we know, there is no way out. We could be here for a long time. If we are to survive, we need food and water, and there’s only one place we know of that has those things.
The Garden, where the monsters are.
Monsters who have weapons that we don’t.
“We’re going to the haunted room,” I say. “We need to find that bracelet. I’ll go. Bishop, you come with me, and we’ll bring—”
“No.” His word is a roar. His gray face clouds over. “We go after Bello, and we go now.”
The room is silent. Bishop stares at me. I stare back at him.
“The bracelet in that room could be a weapon,” I say. “It’s important.”
I see the pain and conflict in his eyes. I ordered us to run away, yes, but doing so was his idea before it was mine and he knows it. He feels responsible.
“Bello is more important,” he says. “They could be killing her right now. We can’t wait. We’ll beat the monsters, Em. Lead us to the Garden.”
To everyone else, I know he sounds strong and confident. But his face, his eyes…he is pleading with me. He wants to fight.
I’m suddenly so grateful O’Malley talked me out of quitting. We don’t understand how we wound up back here, but that doesn’t mean walking straight was the wrong choice. I did the right thing. I did the smart thing. I kept us together.
O’Malley said it best: Bishop acts, I think.
And as badly as Bishop wants to redeem himself, I can’t let him, not yet.