Across Acheron

Session 23

The following Monday was the time everything started flowing to Keenan’s tune. It was the type of song that caught you in its chords and featured all the displeasures humanity had to offer, but you couldn’t stop yourself from listening to it. It was the kind of melody that got stuck in your head but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to harmonise with it. So all you could ever do was chase after the notes floating above your head. They seemed easy, but you always managed to play them wrong.

I was that kind of person. I wanted to be part of the song that swelled and broke your heart, softly singing the truths of men and sex and wanting. So I came to a conclusion that Monday morning. I was going to try to keep up with his beat and continue humming his tune. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I knew it was wrong, but I was okay with that.

I got tired of trying to change into something better when I really wasn’t. It was like making Hitler do community service; it just didn’t fit. Those times when I was fretting over the right thing weren’t fake, though. I mean, I did think about it. It’s just that once things finish processing in my brain, they end up different when I try to take action. That kind of thing got me into a lot of trouble, let me tell you, but I never quit doing it. I don’t think I ever tried.

Anyway, back to that Monday. My days of lounging in a nearby coffee shop while the rest sat in class were over; it was time to put my sleuthing skills to practice. Now, I was no Holmes, so this part of the story may be more humorous to you than it was for me.

The morning was the same as usual; breakfast, the hustle of getting ready for classes, and then the eerie hush of the house when the kids were trapped in different rooms. But by afternoon I found myself in Lorna’s car, breathing in the scent of her expensive perfume as we drove past street signs.

Lorna was quick and diligent with her work. As soon as Keenan let her in on our little plan to meet James, she had his address and usual schedule researched and printed. I was a bit surprised by how fast things had moved even though I shouldn’t have. By that time, I should’ve grown accustomed to things that couldn’t be explained.

“You shouldn’t prod him with questions off the bat, or else he’ll grow suspicious and will avoid them. You can jeopardise this whole thing if you don’t play your cards right,” Lorna told me as she sharply turned a corner. “One word or action out of place can bring everything down, Jack. Keep that in mind.”

I couldn’t help but get a little pissed off at her. I didn’t show it to her, of course. I’m not that stupid. I just didn’t know why the hell she was running through things like I didn’t know what we were up against. She took me as something insignificant and irrelevant, as if I didn’t have a brain of my own to get me through it.

Well, I suppose I couldn’t blame her. I mean, if I had to analyse everything I had done since waking up in Cillian’s yard, I would’ve had doubts trusting me as well. But she didn’t have to be a goddamn bitch about it. It seems like everybody—even the fae—had an asshole in them, especially when they know they’re right about something. It pisses me off.

Anyway, I didn’t say anything else to her after she said that. I figured it was best not to. After a while of driving through the city, Lorna finally stopped the car. We were in front of a campus with several buildings, each one tall and beautiful with elegant schemes and Victorian fixtures. I saw students litter the campus from where we stood, wearing an orderly navy uniform.

“Isaac used to go to a prep school?” I asked Lorna, glancing away from the window.

Reaching for her brief case at the back seat, she nodded to some extent. She flipped through files and pulled out a sheet of loose paper. “He was in the same house with the guys who bullied him. He had a different roommate, however. It’s a little unclear how they got into a tussle.”