Chapter Nine, Part Three - Secrets, Lies, and Alibis

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It wasn’t the fact that he was a Sorcerer posing as a staff member at HVHS that made Westley’s teaching so strange. No, it was the fact that he was actually good at it. Somehow, even I had to admit that Animal Farm was made that much more interesting with him discussing it. With his charming accent and exceptionally good lucks, not only was his sarcasm made tolerable, but my fellow students willingly participated in class – they had never done with Mrs. McDermott. Suddenly, class discussions were interesting, lively almost, with students willingly raising their hands to answer question. Even the burnouts in the back of class were paying attention. I couldn’t believe it.

            “Congratulations on brainwashing the entire class. What’ll you do next – actually grade the homework.”

            When the bell rang to signal the end of English, I hung back, carefully waiting for the last student to leave before addressing Westley.

            “Already did. Last night in fact. Yeh got an A minus – not too shabby for someone who alluded to Animal Farm to a modern day faerie-tale.”

            “Okay, in my defense, I wrote that paper before I found out the Fae were real. And anyway – that’s not what we should be talking about. Instead, let’s talk about your creepy shadow self.”

            I cast a wary eye to Westley’s actual shadow, but for all intents and purposes it appeared to be perfectly normal.

            “Problem?”

            “Yes, there’s a problem,” I snapped. “Why are you having me followed?”

            “It’s fer yer own good,” he replied in a low, warning voice. “The fact that the Knight sought yeh out means she thinks she’s close – and she is. Yeh’re lucky she didn’t kill you. And I mean really kill you.”

            “So it’s true then,” I replied, feeling my blood freeze like ice within my veins. “A Blade of Woe really can kill a member of the High Fae… But she’ll probably use it on you too, right? Westley, what did you do to her?”

            “Now that… is a long story,” he replied, walking around his desk and taking a seat, as if hoping that that would somehow end the conversation.

            “Ok, fine. Then tell me what it is that you did to me? Is that story short enough?”

            Westley sighed, looking cross.

            “It’s not important,” he said quietly.

            “You’re lying,” I said, stepping closer to the desk. “Don’t tell me how I know, it’s just a feeling. But the story is important, and that’s why you’re keeping it from me. Which leads me to another question – if you’ve been able to lie to me all along, what else are you hiding?”

            Westley looked off to his right and to the open window, looking as though his thoughts were just as grey.

            “Protectin’ mehself against the Fae means also protectin’ mehself from you, Tamsyn. A lie is bad, but sometimes the truth is even worse…”

            “So what then? By lying to me you’re protecting me? Damnit I almost died for you last night –”

            “And I will always be in debt to yeh for that, but yeh’ll hear the truth when the time is right, Tamsyn – I swear it,”

            “Go to hell,” I replied and turned on my heel. I crossed the room at a fast pace but was almost knocked to the ground when I attempted to pass through the classroom door. It seemed as if I had walked into something solid, yet completely invisible and more convincing than stone. Shaking with fury I brought up a hand and pounded against the wall. But of course it didn’t budge. I was trapped.

            “Before yeh leave…” Westley began, staring straight ahead, unwilling to even look at me. “I’ll be needin’ the box.”

            I stared at him for several seconds, unwilling to believe that he would stoop so low. But apparently, he had.

            I unzipped my backpack as I re-crossed the room, bringing out the small box and setting it down, hard, on his desk.

            “I know you killed the Knight’s sister,” I said quietly, and this time when he looked at me it wasn’t with guilt. For whatever reason, his expression was far closer to guilt. “I wonder how it must’ve looked to her, knowing that I sided with her sister’s killer. So whatever’s in this stupid box, for your sake, I really hope it’s worth it.”

            Trembling, I successfully left the classroom, leaving behind much more than just a box.

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