The Anima [completed]

13.

13. 

No sooner than I finally blinked after witnessing the fresh body of Fae being carted away on a leaf-like stretcher did the Brownie cart me out of the room.

"You need to be more careful, Miss. That man is dead because of you." His grip was tight on my arm, pinching the skin together with the sweaty middle of his palm.

"Me?" I shrieked, gripping my necklace tight and stepping away from the small man.

"Yes. He is known to be a blabber mouth, but it is forbidden to speak of certain... things."

"You mean The Foretelling?" John's eyes widened when a spoke, and he dragged me further down the hall, away from unwanted ears and prying eyes.

"Hush child! Never repeat those words again! Unless you want to end up just like him! Do you understand?"

I wanted to laugh, maybe even cry, for my eyes were pricking but my mouth was smiling. My teeth grinded and sunk into the skin of my cheek. When I tasted the metal of blood, my head moved up and down; I was nodding even though I did not understand.

"Good! Now go quickly back to your room. Many strange things come out late into the dark."

My head moved again and I floated down the hallway in a daze. Who knew a dead body could bring on such as state of lucidness? Maybe that's why people got highs off killing each other.

The hallway bended, I swivelled sideways, and was grabbed by the arm. For the second time that night, I was pulled aside further into the winding hallways and dark corners of the gigantic building. I wanted to scream, cry out for help, thinking that maybe the John the Brownie was right and the King had come to kill me, but as the scent of the person reached my nose my shoulders slumped in relief. It was Alvar, to the rescue once again.

"Alvar! Thank Go—"

"Are you okay?" He questioned desperately as if his life depended on my answer.

"You have got to stop doing that." I answered dryly, flicking a curl out of my eye and flicking the hand that gripped my bicep.

"What?"

"Interrupting me. It is not very nice."

"Well that answers my question." He rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his hair, but a smile played on the corners of his lips, clearly relieved I was okay. "But seriously, I heard you witnessed one of the Kings anger bursts, so are you okay?"

"More than okay," Voice laced in a serious dose of sarcasm, "apparently I am responsible." I finished in a mutter, crossing my arms in front of my body and staring at Alvar's broad chest.

"What?" Alvar yelled out, "Why would you even think that?"

I paused and held my breath for a moment, debating my next choice of words.

"What is The Foretelling?"

"Who—!" Alvar quickly shut his lips, muttered a few words in a language I could not understand and steam began to rise around us. "You still do not understand our ways, Lyra! You need to be careful. All fae of this plane, no matter how small, serve the King. Everything is listening. Even the walls."

I looked to the curling vines, the things that writhed with a sense of life that I did not truly understand. It dawned on me that this whole time, the walls could hear everything I said, and the fae could record everything I did, and so because of that so could the King. He already knew I had asked about The Foretelling, something I should not know of or think of. I was already dead.