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takerfoxx · 6 years

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RD Walpurgis Nights 7: Part 3

“I just couldn’t understand it,” Homulilly said. “I mean, how could something like that exist? How could anyone protect it? It didn’t make any sense!”

“I hear you,” Ophelia said. “I thought pretty much the same thing after it was our turn. I’ve even talked to other former Void Walkers to have them explain it to me, and I still don’t really get it.” She tilted her head to one side. “So…was that what caused you to freak out?”

“What? Oh, no. That was just the start.” Homulilly let out a small, bitter chuckle. “I, uh, I kinda had it all explained to me too, right after.”

“Who? By Astrid?”

“Er, no. S-See, I ran into someone who…Um, you know how you sometimes get annoyed at Charlotte when she gets super blunt and says something kind of mean?”

Ophelia frowned. “Er, yeah…?”

“Well, I ran into someone like that. Super blunt, I mean. And she wasn’t at all nice like Charlotte is.” Homulilly sighed. “Actually, she was kind of a jerk.”

…

Then…

In sharp contrast to the high spirits and happy chatter from earlier that morning, the feeling that hung over the group as they exited the museum was quiet and melancholy. What conversations that were to be had were done in low, somber tones, and most everyone seemed to be lost in thought.

Homulilly was no exception. If her grip on Gretchen’s hand had been strong going in, now their fingers gripped each other so tightly as if a moment of separation would take the other away forever.

“Well, damn,” Mitty said suddenly. “Gotta say, I knew they were gonna drop a bombshell on us, but I didn’t think it was gonna be that dramatic.”

Homulilly shot her a poisonous glare out of the corner of her eye. Did that girl ever stop talking?

“Did you already know about that?” Gretchen asked.

Mitty shrugged. “Pretty much. I mean, there’s a hell of a lot of difference between knowing about it and seeing it, but yeah. Alyssa already told me most of it.”

That new name got Homulilly’s attention. “Alyssa?” she said.

“Yeah. My girlfriend.”

Suddenly Mitty had Homulilly’s full attention. “You have a girlfriend?”

“Hey, don’t sound so surprised, you’re gonna hurt my feelings! Of course I have a girlfriend.”

Homulilly wracked her memory for anyone by the name of Alyssa. She didn’t really spend much time with the rest of the class, but nothing about that name rang any bells.

“She’s already graduated,” Mitty added. “So you probably don’t know her.”

Oh. Right. Of course she was. “You’re dating someone who’s already graduated?” That was odd. Usually those still going through the orientation program didn’t fraternize much with those already fully integrated into Freehaven’s society, her and Gretchen’s friendship with a certain lively Walpurgisnacht quartet notwithstanding.

“Yup! Funny story about that, actually. You know how I said that someone I knew turned into a witch, and I took the contract to, uh, save her?”

The brief hesitation at the word “save” was very short, but Homulilly noticed it. She probably had been about to say “kill,” but remembered who she was talking to and swapped words at the last second. “Yeah…?”

“Well, that’s her.” Mitty grinned, flashing those perfect teeth of hers. “Nearly scared me right out of my skin, running into her. You know, it was sort of the first time I felt that everything was gonna be okay.” Then a brief look of pain flashed through her eyes. “I mean, it sort of hurt that she didn’t really know who I was. That sucked. But hey, that just meant that we could start over. You know, build from the ground up.” The grin returned. “And did we!”

Gretchen perked up. “Okay, but you’re the one that…” Then her tongue seemed to tie itself up in her mouth. “Er…that…”

“Killed her?” Mitty finished for her.

Gretchen winced, but then nodded.

“Hey, don’t be so nervous. I mean, you guys are witches, you’re the ones that oughta be taking that personally! But yeah. Yeah, that was me.”

“Okay, but when you met her again, did she…feel like she knew you from somewhere?”

Mitty’s eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement. “Uh, no? I just told you that she didn’t recognize me. Since, you know, her memories were all gone.”

“I know, but what I mean is, did she find you familiar? Like, did she feel like you two had already met, even if she didn’t know where?”

“Oh! So you mean soul resonance?”

Gretchen nodded. “See, there’s this other group of witches, another Walpurgisnacht, that we’re friends with. They’ve already graduated too, but when we met them, there was like this…” Her face scrunched up. “Like this…”

“A pull,” Homulilly said. “A feeling of connection, like we had always known each other in our hearts, even if our heads didn’t know why.”

“Huh,” Mitty said. “Well, that’s just damn poetic. You’ve got a gift for words, Homulilly. You ever think of joining the Poetry Club? We do slams every Thursday night.” Then, before Homulilly could ask what a “slam” was, Mitty said, “But yeah, I know what you’re talking about. Some kinda weird connection between magical girls and witches that kill each other? Or witches that join together, or people that used to know each other, or, uh, etc. etc. etc.”

“Pretty much,” Gretchen said. “When Lilly-chan and me met, we didn’t even know each other’s names, but there was this feeling that we had always known each other.” Her fingers tightened around Homulilly’s, and she tilted her head to flash a loving smile. “And no matter what happened next, we were going to face it side-by-side.”

Any linger doubt about Gretchen’s feelings for her melted in Homulilly’s heart, to be replaced with warm relief and adoration, with just a little bit of guilt for having doubted her in the first place.

“Wow,” Mitty said as she stared. “The notes you guys pass in class must be wild.”

“Well…”

“Hey, that’s a good thing.” Mitty entwined her fingers together and stuck them behind her head as she looked out over Freehaven. “I mean…you’re gonna need it, right? With what they just told us, right?”

A sour feeling twisted in Homulilly’s gut, overwhelming the warmth of Gretchen’s words. She looked over at the other girls in her class, all of whom were gathered in small, whispering groups or standing by themselves, staring out into the distance. Most of them looked worried, some outright scared.

It was then that Homulilly realized just how lucky she was. Like Astrid had told them, facing the bleak inevitability that was eternity would be considerably easier with someone by their side, someone to love and support and be loved and supported in turn. And while there were a handful of other couples among them, pairings like her and Gretchen were still a bit of a minority.

To be honest, Homulilly still didn’t really understand why. As far as she knew, most of the other girls were still heterosexual, carried over from their previous lives. But why though? There were no boys around, and girls were so much prettier anyway. Why not accept the way things were?

Then she glanced down at her arms. Well, okay. Maybe she wasn’t the one to throw stones when it came to accepting the reality of things. Still, she did consider herself pretty fortunate. She and Gretchen had been together since day one, and them falling in love had been nothing short of an inevitability. That at least gave them a leg up on the situation.

“Though if you ask me, their timing kinda sucks,” Mitty said. “I mean, couldn’t they have waited until after the festival to drop that on us?”

“Maybe that’s why,” Gretchen said in a small voice. “Maybe they hoped that it would, I don’t know, cheer us up?”

Mitty thought for a moment. Then she shook her head. “Nah. If you ask me, it’s just bad planning.”

Homulilly wasn’t paying much attention to their conversation. It was hard to listen to others when you felt as sick as she did.

“I’ll…be right back,” she said to Gretchen.

Her girlfriend already looked troubled, but now she looked concerned on top of it. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I just…I just need to use the bathroom, so…”

With that, she quickly scampered off.

Homulilly made a beeline for the bathroom, starting off slow so as not to give away the panic attack she felt forming but giving up on that about halfway there, ending things in a rush. She darted inside, shoved the door shut, and practically collapsed against it.

Her breath was coming in quick, frenzied pants. Her hands were shaking, and she felt cold and clammy.

This was it. She had always felt that something was off, that her new life was just a little too perfect. And here it was. It was a trap after all. Just like the wishes were a trap. Just like everything about the Incubators were a trap, all designed to squeeze every drop of juice out of their souls. Out of children’s souls. One day, one small, naïve girl is tempted to make a poor decision, and she is henceforth damned for all eternity, and there was nothing anyone could do about it! Trapped. They had been trapped. That’s all the afterlife was, just another trap for them to be exploited in death the same way they had been in life.

She thought about the sort of day it was outside. Per usual, the weather had been perfect: the sky a beautiful shade of blue, the air pleasantly warm, and a gentle breeze was blowing in from the sea, bringing with it the smell of salt. Freehaven itself was just as lovely as ever, a tranquil city full of happy people.

Ever since day one, it had been drilled into her head just how much of a paradise their new home was, and how fortunate they were to have it to spend the rest of eternity in. And honestly, Homulilly had never had reason to believe otherwise. Sure, she had a basketful of personal problems and anxieties to work through, but that was fine. She had plenty of help at hand to that, and all the time in the world to adjust, and when she did, she and Gretchen would be together forever, enjoying their eternal second life in a state of bliss.

But now the other side of the coin had been revealed, and everything made so much more sense. Freehaven was the way that it was because it had to be: to keep those trapped in the maze from seeking out the bait.

For one reason or another, Homulilly’s past self had made such a choice, and she was damned. Gretchen was damned. Their friends were damned. Everyone was damned! Millions, perhaps even billions of little girls, all tricked into standing in line at the slaughterhouse. Some got there faster than others, some had a more pleasant time of it perhaps, but in the end it didn’t matter.

All roads lead to Oblivion.

It wasn’t fair!

Homulilly was in such a state that she barely noticed the sound of a toilet flushing behind her, followed by the stall door opening. One of the other sinks ran water for a bit, and then a wry voice with a slight British accent said in a wry tone, “Let me guess: you’re one of those new girls that though you was going on a nice field trip, only to get a truth bomb dropped on your sweet, ignorant head. Am I right?”

Homulilly stiffened in place. Then she slowly turned to look at the other person in the bathroom with her. The other girl was tallish and very thin, with tight skin that clung tightly to the shape of where her skull used to be and a long, angular face. Her shoulder-length hair was bright violet, as was her weary eyes. She wore a brown flight jacket over grey turtleneck sweater and a long black skirt. She was drying her hands with a pair of paper towels as she dispassionately watched Homulilly, waiting for her to respond.

“Um…” Homulilly said as she tried to come up with something to say. Unfortunately, her tongue had completely tied itself into knots. “Er…”

The girl snorted. “Though so.” She tossed the paper towels, straightened out her hair, and sighed. “So, you finally got your peek behind the curtain, saw the dark side of paradise, learned what it its that fuels Omelas. Sucks, doesn’t it?”

There was something so familiar about the girl, but Homulilly just couldn’t put her finger on it. It wasn’t the feeling of déjà vu she had gotten with Gretchen or any of the Ladoga girls; this wasn’t a sense of innate connection of the soul, but more of that this was something she had met once before, just long enough to make an impression but not long enough to become familiar.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything. I’ve seen that look often enough. You kids come here all scared and confused, don’t know where you are or why you’re here, have to get used to the whole ‘being dead’ thing. Then, just when you think you’re getting the hang of things, they go drop that bit of information on you. ‘Oh yeah, there is a way to die for real and just get it over with, but you gotta go join a psycho death cult for like a couple hundred years, and it’s run by a genuine, bonafide Incubator. This is what their deathday party looks like. Have fun with that information!’”

Homulilly struggled with her own tongue to come up with some sort of response, but in the end all she was able to stammer out was, “Why?”

“Eh?”

Now that her tongue was loosened, the words came out more easily. “Why’d they wait? Why’d they hide it from us? We should’ve known about that!”

The sour girl sighed. “Aw, shit. Good fuckin’ job, Annabelle Lee. You make one smartass comment, and suddenly you gotta play therapist.” Then she shrugged and said, “Kid, lemme tell you something: they used to do exactly that. The Void Walkers used to be part of the fookin’ orientation. You learned about that when you came in. Except…turns out that dropping all that on a bunch of scared little girls still freaking out all that other shit kinda makes them freak out more. They had breakdowns, meltdowns, and more than one going full witch. So hey, they figured, ‘Give the kids a couple years to get used to things. Let them get at least sort of stable, and then we’ll let them in on the know.’”

Homulilly’s jaw dropped. “How long have they known?”

“Who?”

“Everyone!” Homulilly’s arms flailed in the air, trying to indicate the whole of their surroundings. “Everyone in the afterlife! How long have they known what was going on over there?”

“Oh, that’s what you mean. And they figured that out a long time ago. I mean, you just learned about the war, didn’t you? I thought that covered everything.”

That was true enough, but it hadn’t covered everything. “What’s wrong with them?” was Homulilly’s next question.

“Them?”

“Them!” More arm flailing followed. “Those Void Walkers! They looked like they were…I don’t know, possessed! How could they just give themselves up like that, knowing what we know? I thought everyone here hated the Incubators!”

Annabelle Lee’s thin lips twisted into a humorless smirk. “You haven’t been here long, have you? Like, a couple years, right?”

Homulilly nodded.

“Then shut up.”

Homulilly jerked back like she had been slapped. “Huh?”

“You like it here, don’t you? Here in lovely Freehaven, the city by the sea. Beautiful, happy town full of beautiful, happy people, enjoying their little slice of Heaven.” Annabelle Lee leaned over to poke a finger into Homulilly’s sternum. “Well, while you’re still coming to terms with your last truth bomb, let me drop another: most of the afterlife ain’t nearly as nice as this. Most girls don’t wake up to find a whole organization of nice, helpful people just waiting to do everything they can to make things easier. Some wake up in darker places. Some have to figure it out as they go along. And many can’t.”

“I-”

“And even the ones that do…hell, even the ones lucky like you, who wound up here or in one of the other nice places, you think you’re immune? Hey, do me a favor: when you leave here today, take the time to look out over the city. Take in the sights, feel the warmth, breathe in that clean air. It’s all very lovely, and you get to stay here forever. But here’s the problem that nobody knows how to solve: forever lasts an awful long time. It just keeps going and going and going, and everything stays the same. The afterlife, the city, you. And there’s gonna be the day…not today, not tomorrow, maybe not even until a hundred years from now, but mark my words it will come, the day when you looked out the window over your little slice of Heaven, and you will hate the sight of it.”

“But-”

“So you decide to move! It’s a big afterlife, there has to be something out there to shake eternity up! You head off to one of the other nicer places! Cloudbreak, Steel City, whatever. It doesn’t matter, all you need is a little variety, someplace new to start over. And hey, it works. You’re breathing fresh air, and enjoying the new pace! You’ve been revitalized, ready to face the rest of eternity. Guess what happens after that?”

“It…it gets old?” Homulilly guessed.

Annabelle Lee nodded. “Yeah. It gets old. All over again. So you move again and start over. Again. Then you do it again. And again. You run out of nice places to go, so you start going to the not-so-nice places.” Annabelle Lee’s violet eyes were already on the sour side of cynical, but now they darkened even further. “Then you start ending up in the bad places, where those unlucky in death ended up. You see what’s been done to them and where they have to spend eternity. You start meeting others like you, those who’ve been around way too long and have seen too much. You realize that you’ve run out of places to go, and the very thought of returning to somewhere just sticks in your craw. You feel trapped, a rat in a very, very large maze. And it don’t matter that it’s being run by an Incubator, it don’t matter that you’ve seen what getting released looks like, you start realizing that it’s the only way out, the only way to make everything stop. And you start wondering how you look in black.” She looked away from Homulilly to her own reflection in the bathroom mirror, and when she spoke next it seemed to be just as much at herself as it was at Homulilly. “All roads lead to Oblivion.”

This wasn’t how the day was supposed to be going. Homulilly was supposed to have a nice field trip to the museum with Gretchen, wander the exhibits together, enjoy the sights and learn something about history. She was not supposed to be having her entire world torn asunder and end up having the harsh realities explained to her by a grumpy stranger in a bathroom. Her sight was starting to blur as tears welled up, and her throat was constricting, making the next words hard to push out. “But…that’s not fair!”

“What ain’t?”

“It’s not fair!” Homulilly repeated. “We’re dead! It should be over! They got what they wanted from us! Why can’t they leave us alone?”

“Oh, the Incubators?” Annabelle Lee shook her head and rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Well…duh? You really think they care about what’s fair? They’re already in the business of screwing over little girls. Of course they’d keep it going after we’re dead.”

Homulilly took a deep breath to compose herself. She raised her arms and let them drop back down. “So…that’s it? I’m trapped, and there’s nothing I can do about it?”

Then Annabelle Lee did something sort of odd. She tilted her head and her eyes narrowed. She seemed to studying Homulilly’s face, almost like she was searching for something. “Tell me something, kid. You got someone special in your life?”

Again Homulilly was taken back. “What?”

“You heard me. You got someone special to you, someone you care about more than anything?”

Homulilly stared at her. Why would she want to know that? “Yes,” she said after a long moment.

“Someone you arrived with?”

“Yes,” Homulilly said again, quicker this time. “We’re a Walpurgisnacht, her and I.”

“I see.” Annabelle Lee sighed. “Well, then you’re luckier than most. You want some advice?”

“Sure.”

“This special person of yours, do everything you can to keep her close. Because as much as you might think you need her, you actually need her far, far more than that. There will come a day where she’s the only thing worth getting up for, and her smile will be the only thing that hasn’t gotten old.”

There was so much weariness in Annabelle Lee’s voice, so much pain and sorrow. Though she didn’t look a day over sixteen, Homulilly realized that she was looking at someone very, very old, and not just by a numerical count of years. This was someone who had endured uncountable hardships, hardships that burdened her still.

Homulilly wanted to ask her exactly what she had gone through to make her the way she was, but before she could loosen her tongue the bathroom suddenly burst open and two newcomers entered.

The first was a small child, a girl that looked to still be of grade-school age, though all things considered that didn’t mean much. She was Caucasian, with curly blonde hair and golden eyes, and was dressed in a pink shirt and a pair of overall shorts. The other was a tall, willowy girl who looked to be in her late teens. Like Homulilly, she had Asian features, with pale skin and a long, glossy black hair that had an odd leaflike growths protruding from the strands. She was dressed in tight black pants, a black blouse, and a white jacket. A silver cross hung from a slender chain around her neck.

The small blonde ignored Homulilly and marched right up to Annabelle Lee to scowl up at her. “There you are! What’s taking you so long?”

Homulilly was a little startled by the sudden intrusion, but what happened next was even odder. As soon as the pair had entered the room, Annabelle Lee’s face seemed to soften. The hard edge melted away, her eyes brightened a bit, and she even smiled a little.

“Sorry about that, squirt,” she said. “Got caught up with something.”

“Goodness gracious,” said the other girl as she shook her head. “I was starting to think you were trying to drop a-” Then she caught sight of Homulilly, and her eye widened in alarm. “Oh.” A pause, and then. “Uh-oh.” She then turned back to Annabelle Lee, now openly glaring. “What did you do?”

“Why Elsa Maria, whatever are you talking about?” Annabelle Lee said innocently.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Elsa Maria growled. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing! She was already like that.”

Elsa Maria folded her arms over her chest. “Why do I find that so hard to believe?”

“You tell me! She just went on that freaky truth bomb tour that they show newbies. And I…” Annabelle Lee shrugged, “filled in the gaps, that’s all.

Sighing, Elsa Maria buried her face in her hands. “Oh, good Lord! See, this is why I can’t take you to church anymore!”

“Not seeing how that’s a bad thing.”

“Shut up.” Then Elsa Maria turned to Homulilly. Bending over a bit so that they were eye-to-eye, she laid a hand on the younger girl’s shoulder. “Hey sweetie, I’m so sorry. Please don’t listen to her. She’s just a sourpuss that loves to ruin everything.”

Homulilly had to admit that as strange as the last few minutes were, having her skeletal shoulders touched without revulsion by someone who wasn’t Gretchen, Ophelia, Charlotte, Oktavia, Candeloro, or Cheese was an even stranger experience. Granted, she was wearing a thick jacket, but something about Elsa Maria’s body language told her that she wouldn’t have hesitated even if her bones had been exposed. That was…unexpected, and not entirely unpleasant.

Finally she managed to unwind her tongue and say, “No. No, it’s okay. I had questions, and she was just being honest.”

Elsa Maria shot a glare over to Annabelle Lee. “Yeah, but still…”

“It’s fine,” Homulilly reassured her. “Really.” Then she turned to the violet-haired girl in question. “Thank you. For telling me.”

“Sure thing, newbie.”

Elsa Maria frowned. She looked into Annabelle Lee’s face in a suspicious manner. “Well, even so, don’t think for a moment that I approve one bit about your brand of ‘truth.’” She grabbed Annabelle Lee by the arm and pretty much hauled her out of the bathroom, the little blonde girl following close behind. “I’ve seen what you think passes for delivery, and it’s no wonder the poor girl is distraught.”

“I told you already, she was already a wreck!” Annabelle Lee complained. “I actually helped her! Stop assuming the worst about-”

The door swung shut, muffling the rest of their conversation.

Homulilly stood in the bathroom, staring at the door. Through it, she could still hear Annabelle Lee arguing with her…friend? Girlfriend? Minder? Whatever Elsa Maria was to her, it was clear that she and the dour Annabelle Lee had been together for a long, long time. And as sharp as her words had been, there did seem to be a comforting familiarity to them, as if their bickering was just a common routine that they enjoyed playing out.

Then Homulilly turned to look at herself in the mirror. She…looked the same as always: same long black hair, same dark violet eyes, same petite figure, same bony hands peeking out of the sleeves of her jacket, same bright crimson spider-lily growing out of the top of her head.

When Homulilly had first arrived in the afterlife, she had been so self-conscious about her appearance. With her arms being what they were, she had been terrified that everyone would be scared of her and think of her as a monster. But though she still didn’t like to have them commented on, the sight of those bare bones no longer bothered her the way they had. In fact, she barely thought about them these days. And ever since she and Gretchen had fallen in love, well, the sight of herself in the mirror made her smile more often than not. Being wanted by someone, especially someone like Gretchen, really did much to improve how she saw herself.

But now, as she stared into her own eyes, she found herself regarding herself in a new light. She thought of that weary, bitter look in Annabelle Lee’s eyes, and picture it in her own. She thought of that sour look on Annabelle Lee’s face, and saw herself walking around with that same expression.

Then she thought of all those Void Walker she had just seen images of, walking around with unnaturally pale skin and all-black outfits. Not a single one had seemed happy, content, or even the slightest bit at peace. They had all been breathing despair, with the only positive trait being the raw determination in their eyes.

Homulilly was already a few shades paler than most, and now, in her mind’s eye, she saw herself fully bleached white. She saw her bright green jacket replaced with someone plain and black. She saw the petals of her flower dyed black. Overall, it made her look like a corpse.

Shivering, Homulilly exited the bathroom. She made her way back to the group, who were still huddled together and looking all sorts of lost and dismayed.

All except for Mitty.

In sharp contrast to the others, Mitty looked much more at ease as she chatted with Gretchen. The two were sitting side-by-side on a bench, with all of Gretchen’s legs gathered up around her as she often did when she was feeling uncomfortable. In contrast, Mitty was lounging in a relaxed state, one leg folded under her with the other swinging back and forth. She was turned toward Gretchen, her left arm draped over the back of the bench.

Though Homulilly couldn’t hear what was being said, she could guess at the subject. Gretchen was feeling a little scared by what she had just been shown, and Mitty was working to put her at ease. Suddenly Homulilly felt a healthy dose of guilt start to squirm in her gut. She ought to have been the one to be there for Gretchen instead of running away. But no, she had to think of only herself instead of sparing a single thought to how Gretchen might be feeling.

Then Mitty laughed and reached over to playfully tousle Gretchen’s hair. The pink-haired witch giggled and blushed.

Suddenly Homulilly’s guilt vanished, to be replaced with white hot anger. Oh no. No way. Mitty did not get to touch her Gretchen like that. That was reserved for Homulilly and Homulilly only.

Homulilly almost marched right up to her to confront her, but another stop made her stop. Sure, Mitty was almost definitely making the moves on her girlfriend, but what was she going to do about it? Mitty was, well, older, prettier, and more confident, pretty much everything Homulilly was not. And getting into a fight in front of Gretchen wouldn’t help anyone.

Homulilly needed advice. She needed to talk to someone who was also older than her and had more life experience. She needed the help of a fighter.

…

Now…

“A fighter?” Ophelia said, puzzled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Homulilly didn’t say anything. She just shot her a sidelong look.

“Wait,” Ophelia after a beat. “You mean me? You wanted me to fight Mitty for you?”

“No! Not actually fight! And not specifically you, just…any one of you guys! I just wanted someone to talk to for, you know, advice.”

“Advice on how to fight Mitty?”

“Not physically.” Homulilly looked down at her bony fingers. “She’d kick my butt. I mean…”

“Fight to keep Gretchen.” Ophelia sighed. “Homulilly. Seriously. Did you really think Gretchen was going to leave you for her?”

“No! Of course not, I just…”

“Did you think she was going to cheat on you or something? I thought you trusted her.”

“I did! I mean, I do, it’s just…uh…”

“You didn’t trust Mitty,” Ophelia guessed.

Homulilly cringed, but she nodded.

“Right,” Ophelia sighed. “Okay, what happened after that.

“Well, there was no more classes after I got back, but Gretchen still had her committee meeting,” Homulilly said. She made a face. “And I didn’t want to be alone for the evening-”

“Then why not go to the damned meeting?” Ophelia said. “You’d be with Gretch and be able to keep an eye on Mitty.”

“I…I don’t know,” Homulilly admitted. “I should’ve, but I wanted to talk to one of you guys first. Except, uh, things got…complicated.”

…

Then…

“Sorry, dear,” said the librarian behind the counter, whose nametag identified her as Mary. “Charlotte’s not in today.”

Homulilly’s face fell, followed soon by her petals. “Oh,” she said. “But I thought she had Sundays and Mondays off.”

“Usually, yes, but she asked for today off. I mean, didn’t you hear? She’s got an interview with Corbit Fausk!”

Oh, right. “That’s today?” Homulilly said.

“It is! Isn’t it exciting?” Mary beamed. “One of our own, being represented by Corbit Fausk! We might have to do an autograph signing here!” She went back to the books she had been sorting. “Anyway, she should be in tomorrow. Shall I pass along a message?”

“No,” Homulilly said. “It’s fine. I can talk to her later.”

With a sigh, she turned and walked away from the front desk toward the exit. Well, that had been a bust. She didn’t often need a sympathetic ear, but today she most certainly, but Gretchen was with the festival planning committee AGAIN, Candeloro had already left for Orya’s Furnace, Ophelia was at work at the power plant, and for once Charlotte was unavailable. Homulilly and Gretchen had popped into the library several times in the past to chat with her, and she had always been happy to see them. But the one time Homulilly really needed her, she was gone. It wasn’t fair.

Homulilly was so occupied with her pouting that she almost didn’t notice the person coming the other way until she had nearly ran her right over, causing her to drop the books she was carrying. “Hey!” the other person snapped. “Watch where you’re going, you weed-headed-”

Homulilly jerked her head up, as shocked by the sudden insult as she was by the collision.

“-oh. Oh! Shit. Homulilly, right? Sorry, I didn’t know it was you.”

It was Mitty.

Because of course it was.

“Um…” was all Homulilly thought to say. “What…what are you doing here?”

Mitty quirked an eyebrow. “Er, why? Am I not allowed to go to the library?”

“I…I thought there was a meeting.”

“Oh. That.” Mitty shrugged and knelt down to pick up her books. “Jada called to say she was going to be late, so I took the extra time to run over and return some books.”

“Oh. Um, sorry for running into you.”

“S’kay. Hey, you know, it’s only a couple days until the festival, so you should come along!”

“Me? Go to…the meeting?”

“Sure! Why not? It’s not like we check ID’s or anything. C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

Homulilly couldn’t fathom why Mitty would want her around. She was after Gretchen; of that Homulilly was certain. Maybe she wanted Homulilly to be around to watch so she could rub it in?

“I’ll…think about it,” Homulilly said in a neutral tone.

“Cool! Well, see you around.”

Homulilly watched as Mitty made her way into the library.

Then Homulilly abruptly stopped and smacked herself in the forehead. Okay, she was an idiot. There was someone she could talk to, someone who worked nearby, and not for something really busy like a power plant, didn’t have an interview with a super popular agent, and wasn’t out of town for the weekend.

The Magi’s Gifts Emporium was located further down the hill, around where the newly arrived worked to settle in crossed over to the places infested with tourists. It really was a wonderful store, like something out of a fantasy world. Which, as Homulilly reflected as she stepped inside, was kind of exactly what it was.

Unfortunately it was much busier than normal. All the people coming in for the festival filled the place and packed the aisles, browsing the merchandise and clambering over the shelves like monkeys.

Homulilly hesitated at the entrance. She still didn’t much care for crowds, especially ones made up of strangers. Her hand moved over reflexively to grasp Gretchen’s, only to come up empty. She looked down at it in surprise, and then remembered.

Right. That’s why she was here in the first place. She was on her own, and if she didn’t want to end up being on her own for the rest of forever, she needed to pull herself together and not back down. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward.

It was like stepping out into a gale. Immediately Homulilly was buffeted on all sides by bodies and noise. She felt a flurry of panic start to flare up in her stomach. No, no, no, she couldn’t break down now. She had to hold it together. She had been through crowds before.

But then there was usually someone with her. Several someones in fact, who could form a barrier around her. Now it was just her and all of them.

An Indian girl pressed past her without so much as an excuse me, her eyes looking right past Homulilly. But then they dipped down to focus on Homulilly’s hands, and her brow rose. It was just the briefest of glances, but Homulilly caught it. She hastily folded her hands into her elbows and hastened forward.

Strange faces passed. Music and voices assaulted her ears. Arms and shoulders jostled her. Homulilly kept her face forward and forced her way forward, hoping that she would break through before she lost her mind.

Then, right when she thought that she was going to suffocate, she was out, having made it past the aisles to the more spacy music section. There were still a lot of people around, but they weren’t packed in nearly as densely as before, and Homulilly was able to breathe.

Shaking a little, Homulilly looked around for Oktavia. She was usually teaching her students in the corner, which was roped off for her lessons. However, today it was empty.

Homulilly’s heart fell. No, no, no. Please, don’t let her have gone through all of that for nothing. Please let Oktavia be there, because if she didn’t have someone familiar to talk to soon she was going to start pulling her hair out and her flower up by the roots.

Then, right before Homulilly completely lost it, a door opened in the back of the store and Oktavia came out in her mechanical chair. Accompanying her was a despondent blonde girl with a heavily freckled face with an instrument case in her hand.

Homulilly slowly breathed out. Oh. Okay, Oktavia was there. It was just probably too crowded to conduct her music lessons out in the open, so she was having them in the back room. Thank God.

Still, she didn’t want to intrude and interrupt the talk Oktavia was having with her student, so Homulilly sidled over behind a drum set to wait. Despite the babble around her, she was close enough to hear what was being said.

“I’m never going to get good,” the girl was saying. “I keep trying, but I can’t get the hang of it!”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” Oktavia said patiently. “Everyone sucks when they first start out!”

“Did you?”

“Me? Well, no,” Oktavia admitted. “But that’s because of magic or whatever. But I’ve taught lots of kids, and let me tell you: each and every one of them sucked when they first started out. Now at least seven of them are performing in symphonies, three have their own band, and one just dropped her third solo album.”

“But…they’re probably special. I’m not. I keep trying to find something special at me, but nothing clicks!”

Homulilly sighed. Yeah, she knew how she felt.

“Special? Oh, come on, don’t give me that,” Oktavia said in a stern tone. “Special is just a word people use to justify quitting! Thing is, you can be the most talented person in the whole afterlife and still accomplish nothing. I’ve seen it so many times, girls with so many natural gifts that it’s incredibly unfair, but they think that means that they can just coast by and never work at anything, so they never do and never do anything with those talents! Meanwhile, you get other girls who have to work twice as hard to be half as good as them, but they end up creating masterpieces.”

Homulilly leaned in closer to hear better.

“See, here’s the thing: there’s nothing that’s worth having that isn’t worth fighting for. And sometimes you have to fight harder and longer than most people, but that just makes it better in the end! And when you do finally get there, it’ll mean more because of what you had to go through to get it. So don’t let it get you down. It’s okay to get frustrated, but use that frustration as fuel instead of letting it make you stop, okay?”

Homulilly’s breath caught in her throat.

This special person of yours, do everything you can to keep her close, Annabelle Lee’s words echoed in her head. Because as much as you might think you need her, you actually need her far, far more than that. There will come a day where she’s the only thing worth getting up for, and her smile will be the only thing that hasn’t gotten old.

Homulilly’s bony fingers clenched into fists. Right then. No more standing by passively. Gretchen was hers, and she was going to fight for that right.

A few moments later Oktavia’s student left the store feeling a little better about herself. She wasn’t the only one. Oktavia went about her day without knowing that Homulilly had ever been there, but that didn’t matter. Homulilly had heard what she needed to hear from her anyway.

#Walpurgis Nights

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