The Reader - Chapter 15

Chapter 15 

Emmeline didn’t really have an idea of what Wiley’s “classroom” would look like, but it definitely wasn’t what she saw when she first walked in. 

She had been expecting the same layout with maybe a small seat for her and a desk. 

Instead, Wiley had completely remodelled the room. The bed was gone, leaving room for a small blackboard that was plastered against the wall. In the center of the room were about ten desks, each one complete with parchment and a pen. Wiley was perched in the corner of the room on a wooden stool in front of the blackboard. 

“Ah, welcome, Miss Emmeline,” Wiley smiled brightly at her, and Emmeline realized he had removed a pair of large circular rimmed glasses from the pocket of his coat and pushed them onto his face. “Are you ready to begin? We have much to discuss.” 

Emmeline nodded, not mentioning that she wasn’t ready at all. “Where should I sit? There are so many desks.” 

Wiley shrugged. “In case any of your friends need a lesson or two. But any desk will do - I think you will find the one that will suit your needs.” He finished with a smug look on his face that made Emmeline wonder if death really did make one stuck up. 

She was a bit confused as to what Wiley meant by the desks suiting her needs, but she felt a strange calling to the one closest to the blackboard. Slowly, Emmeline made her way to the desk and took a seat, feeling strangely empty-handed. The desk seemed to shimmer with light in her presence, and within a minute it had become something … new. The parchment was a thick stack and the pen was her favorite kind with ink that simply flowed over the paper. 

“Whoa,” Emmeline breathed. The chair seemed to mold to her - it seemed like it would never grow uncomfortable.
Wiley beamed. “You like it?” Emmeline nodded. “Well, if you’re ready, I’d like to explain some things to you.” He began to write on the blackboard, his hand somehow making contact with the chalk. 

The Basics of Symbols, the board read. 

“The hint to Writing is to understand what you are Writing first. Which means you have to understand what each symbol means first. Today, we’ll start with the basics.” Wiley droned, scribbling messily on the board. “I suggest you take notes because I won’t be repeating myself.” 

Emmeline grabbed her pen, completely ready for whatever Wiley had to throw at her. 

By dinner Emmeline had three full parchments of inked drawings and explanations. Wiley had explained the most common symbols and what they meant, so Emmeline’s notes were very detailed. 

A small face or a stork (which Wiley explained was a big, white bird) generally meant a child. A circle with an arrow pointed northeast meant male, and a circle with a “t” coming out the bottom meant female. A skull was death, but not a person’s death - one of someone they knew. A sword meant soldiers or fighting. A fruit meant a vendor. These symbols were relatively easy to remember. 

However, things like a map - which meant the person would make a big mistake - were harder to remember. A leaf meant temporary. 

Emmeline tucked her parchment pieces under her bed as Lena called her down for dinner. The others had returned from training nearly an hour ago, but none of them had come to visit Emmeline. 

Dinner was a lovely meal of roasted bird and an assortment of fruits and vegetables. Lena explained that the Blessed in the village did their best to support the Cursed. Blessed from Zachryose and Quigon (plants and animals) generally did their best to provide food. It was a wonderful system, and Emmeline enjoyed the taste of the bird greatly. 

Forrest had been forced to sit out of the second half of the fight training, but he was progressing quickly enough. And Newt was praised by everyone for his talent to find them acceptable weapons teachers. 

The circus members had actually decided to dine with them, so Emmeline and the others were all seated in Lena’s backyard. It was meant for a garden, but Lena had turned it into a gathering place. She laid mats out on the lush grass, and Titus lit torches around the fencing to give the yard a nice warmth. 

Emmeline remained mostly quiet, but the others made conversation about the training. 

“That sword blocking move was crazy. You’ll have to show me that tomorrow.” 

“Did you see that spear just like I did? The phantom I worked with said if he was alive I would have killed him!” 

“Did you see the little boy and girl? They fought like they were perfect for each other.” 

It wasn’t until Lena rang a tiny bell that the small yard fell silent. Emmeline was dining next to Newt, and the boy stopped midbite and turned to look at Lena. 

“I have some great news,” Lena announced cheerily. “The Elders have approved my request to house Emmeline, Newt, Clara, Beckett, Coral, and Forrest for as long as I please. They have also decided that the other villagers will begin participating in weapons training, alternating who gets the phantoms and who trains with each other every day. We also want to begin training healers as well.” 

The yard let loose a round of applause and a sense of relief washed over Emmeline. They were safe to stay in this tiny village for now, and they were also free to continue their training. Not only that, but the village would prepare for war with them. 

“I’d like to make a toast,” Titus said, holding up his glass, “to all of the travellers who are now allowed to stay with us. To Coral and her incredible water stunts!” 

“To Coral!” they echoed, Emmeline among the loudest. 

“To Forrest and his awesome sword skills!” Titus called out. 

“To Forrest!” 

“To Beckett and his weird but welcome personality and power!” 

“To Beckett!” 

“To Clara and her wonderful power of healing!” 

“To Clara!” 

“To Newt who brought us trainers when no one else could!” 

“To Newt!” 

“And finally,” Titus said with a wink before draining the last of his glass. “To Emmeline for being the Reader that brought us all together. If she can’t stop the war, no one can!” 

“To Emmeline!” 

The glasses clinked after the cheer and everyone laughed before resuming their conversations. Emmeline smiled brightly as some people clapped and others congratulated her on making it this far. 

Titus’s toast was a bit unsettling. Not that Emmeline didn’t appreciate the compliments, but Titus reminded her that she would never really be one of them. 

The sun sank behind the horizon and the moon brightened the yard. The party grew rowdier as the night grew darker. Forrest excused himself because he wasn’t feeling good, so Coral brought him to their room. Beckett and Clara tried to party hard, but both of them grew tired quickly and also went off to bed. 

Because both of the younger children had left, Titus drew a bottle of extra old alcohol from nowhere. Emmeline didn’t have any, and neither did Newt. They shared apprehensive looks as Titus downed two whole glasses. 

“C’mon, Emmeline,” Titus wandered over to her about half an hour later. He stank of alcohol and Emmeline wanted to ask how many drinks he had. “You should try some. It’s scarce, this stuff.” He shook the bottle again and attempted to pour it in Emmeline’s glass. She pulled it away. 

“I don’t want any,” Emmeline said politely. 

Titus sighed. “Fine, but at least have some of Marlene’s cake. It’s amazing.” He handed her a slice of heavily iced cake without even asking.

Emmeline took and she saw Marlene watching out of the corner of her eye. Now she definitely couldn’t refuse. Emmeline sighed, and she took a small bite of the cake. The taste was sweet - extremely sweet. 

Emmeline smiled at Marlene and gave her a thumbs up, taking another bite to show she enjoyed it. But Emmeline didn’t like it. 

As soon as she had gotten out of Marlene’s sight she disposed of the cake in one of the trash buckets. Her stomach reeled for the sweet flavor, and Emmeline clutched at her midsection. The cake was so sweet it was burning. 

Or maybe it wasn’t sweet. 

Emmeline made her way over to Newt, trying to mask the pain. “Newt,” she mumbled when she found him. “I think I’m going to head in. I don’t feel so good” 

“Whoa, Em, are you okay?” He grabbed her shoulders, holding her upright. Emmeline suddenly felt warm. Unbearably warm. Had Titus lit more torches or something? She began to yank off her cloak, but Newt grabbed her hand. “What are you doing?” 

“I don’t feel so good,” Emmeline repeated, her legs weakening. She was about to fall when Newt grabbed her by the armpits, holding her upright. 

“You’re feverish,” he told her, wiping his hand across her brow. “Em, I’m getting you to Clara.” 

“Don’t make a big deal,” Emmeline whispered to him. “I don’t want anyone to see me like this.” It was more of a pride issue than anything, but Emmeline didn’t want to seem weak or helpless. 

Newt nodded, holding her to his chest. “Pretend to be drunk,” he whispered into her ear, lips just barely grazing her skin. 

Emmeline nodded, and she lifted her weak legs enough for Newt to scoop her up like a child. No one seemed to notice them at first, but Willow seemed to see them almost immediately. Emmeline’s vision was growing blurry, so she could barely make out the face of the girl. 

“Where are you going?” Willow asked, eyeing up Emmeline. 

“She had a bit too much to drink,” Newt responded smoothly. “I need to get her to bed because last time this happened she spewed everywhere and no one wants to see that.” 

Emmeline almost winced at the embarrassing lie, but Willow seemed to accept it. “I’ll tell everyone you needed to read Beckett a bedtime story.” Then she hurried off without another word. 

“I’m burning,” Emmeline told Newt as he walked her into the bottom of the tower. 

“It’s okay, we’ll get to Clara and she can help you. I have no idea what happened, but,” Newt’s voice caught. 

The burning was everywhere now, and Newt’s skin seemed so cool. Emmeline leaned against him, hoping that maybe his icy chill could stop the burning pain. It didn’t help at all, it only made it worse. 

“Emmeline, hang in there,” Newt whispered to her, his voice and breathing growing labored as he carried her up the steps. 

“Newt,” Emmeline heard herself say. “It hurts.” 

“I know,” he responded shortly. “Almost there.” 

“Hurts,” Emmeline told him. The pain was stabbing at her brain now. It hurt so terribly bad. Emmeline wanted it to stop. 

An odd red light began to take over her vision, closing out Newt’s face. She could still smell him, reeking of sweat and of smoke. Emmeline clutched him tightly afraid that if she let go she would lose herself.
The red light won anyways, and Emmeline felt herself drifting into darkness where the pain was eternal and constant. 

It had to be too late.

Emmeline had trouble separating feverish dreams from reality. 

At one point in time she thought she saw Newt’s face and felt his lips grazing her forehead, the icy coolness she had felt earlier spreading through her limbs like an avalanche. 

Not long after she heard a voice that she couldn’t picture with a face. The voice was pretty and feminine, comforting yet also eerie at the same time. Emmeline could not make out the words the voice told her, but it made her feel secure enough. Maybe death wasn’t so bad after all. 

The voice fell silent, and instead Emmeline could feel the creeping sensation of bugs crawling up and down her spine. Their tiny feet pulled at her skin, tickling her back and causing her to squirm. When she tried to scream for help her mouth wouldn’t open and she realized with great fear that someone had sewn it shut. Her lips burned as she pried at the tiny threads with her fingers, but soon her fingers began so large that she couldn’t move them at all. Everything began to swell up and the bugs disappeared leaving only darkness. 

It was only then that all of the visions deserted her and Emmeline drifted off to sleep once again. 

The sun was streaming through the window and onto Emmeline’s face. She sputtered awake, attempting to sit up and wondering if her odd fever fit was over. 

As her back straightened, Emmeline rammed her head into Clara’s by accident, knocking the younger girl backwards until she rolled off the bed and hit the floor. Emmeline tried to get up and help but Clara stood quickly and pushed her back down. 

“Not so fast, Emmeline,” Clara ordered. Emmeline swore she saw a smirk on Clara’s face. “You’ve had me on quite the adventure over the past two days.” 

“Two days!” Emmeline cried out. “Why was I asleep for that long? Did I have an allergy to the cake or something?” Emmeline tried to sit up again, panic rising in her throat. Clara let her sit, but propped her up with a few pillows. 

“It’s kind of a long story,” Clara explained. “But you need to eat and drink.” 

She didn’t wait for Emmeline to respond. Clara put her fingers to her mouth and whistled loudly. “Hey, Newt, your sleeping princess is awake and she wants food!” 

Emmeline laughed as she heard Newt’s footsteps pounding up the steps, but she winced when the movement hurt her ribcage. Newt’s hair was disheveled and eyes were bloodshot, but he was wearing a grin and holding a platter with a glass of water and some fruits. 

As soon as the plate touched Emmeline’s lap she dove into the food, devouring it in less than ten minutes and holding it out for more. “Not very lady-like, princess,” Newt remarked with a laugh. He handed the platter to Clara. “Take this downstairs and then come right back up. I want to see if she’ll be able to walk today.” 

Clara rolled her eyes but accepted the now empty platter from Newt. It surprised Emmeline how much her stomach had yearned for the food. Her lips were less parched now and she felt refreshed - except for her skin. The next chance she got, Emmeline was bathing. 

“So… anyone want to explain what exactly happened?” Emmeline asked when Clara returned. “And where everyone else is?” 

“Beckett is keeping Wiley company upstairs,” Newt explained. “Lena left a while ago to deal with some … issues. And Coral and Forrest are at training. Clara and I ditched - partially because we couldn’t leave you alone and partially because we’ve mastered the first stage.” 

“I am amazing,” Clara sighed dreamily. “And Beckett also said he wants Wiley to train him in his magic or whatever, so he’s ditching too.” 

“Quitters,” Emmeline mumbled under her breath. She was glad for the company, though. “Stop procrastinating and tell me what happened to me.” Emmeline thought it sounded a bit rude but she didn’t care. 

Clara sent a look to Newt as if asking for permission. He shrugged uncomfortably. 

“I hate to break it to you, Emmeline, but we have a traitor in our midst.” He said it with such a calm tone that Emmeline thought he was joking for a moment. 

He wasn’t. No punchline came and Emmeline’s stomach sank. 

Newt waited for a moment before continuing. “Marlene’s cake was contaminated with a certain type of poison that only harms Readers. She claims that she has no idea who poisoned the cake, and the Elders are interrogating all of us - except for you, of course. Until then, you’re supposed to be kept away from everyone that doesn’t live here.” 

“I was poisoned,” Emmeline said, her voice shrill. It couldn't be true. Who would want her dead? 

Newt nodded, which made the reality that much harder. Emmeline felt like she could barely breathe. It wasn’t a new feeling, being wanted dead was all too familiar to her. First it was her unhappy clients at the age of about ten - but she had learned from her mistakes. And then there were the guards. Now someone else was trying to kill her. She had thought she would be safe in the village, but apparently that was dead wrong. 

“Someone put powder in the cake,” Newt explained, his voice frustratingly calm. “It could be a number of different combinations, and anyone in the village could technically be responsible. We think it was probably someone at that party.” 

“It took nearly all of my Blessing to help you,” Clara said, her voice small. “Forrest was glad that he didn’t have to be my only patient.” 

“Two days,” Emmeline repeated, thinking of the days she had lost. What would Wiley think of her? He probably would say something about being murdered with a knife being worse than being poisoned. Emmeline decided that if Wiley made a comment like that she would say that at least she lived. “When can I train again?” 

“Slow down, speedy,” Clara laughed. “We have to make sure you can walk before you can go see Wiley. From what I hear, he’s pretty intense.” 

Emmeline couldn’t disagree with that, but it didn’t stop her from swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She stood, but the blood rushed from her head and her knees wobbled. Newt caught her before she tripped, and Clara had to smother a laugh. 

Emmeline pushed Newt away and blushed fiercely. She took one shaky step and then another. And another. Slowly, Emmeline made her way across the small bedroom to the steps. 

Her bare feet and nightdress made her feel weak but when Emmeline saw the mirror hung above the top of the steps she winced. Her face was even paler than Forrest’s had been, and her lips seemed to have a bluish tint. Not to mention her hair - which looked like a bird had made a nest in it. 

Her hope to see Wiley vanished and was replaced with her previous wish to bathe. 

“Clara?” Emmeline asked, trying not to feel embarrassed. “Where’s the washroom?” 

The washroom was across from study, a room which Emmeline had yet to explore. Clara showed Emmeline the large tub for bathing and which soaps smelled the best. “Oh, and here’s one of Lena’s spare tunics.” The girl handed her a large piece of cloth that was a vibrant red. 

Emmeline looked down, suddenly wondering what she was wearing that she couldn’t keep wearing it. Newt’s leaf green tunic was hanging limp from her skinny frame. Oh. That explained the faint smell of sweat. Clara seemed to notice Emmeline’s confusion. “You vomited all over the dress Lena bought you and one of the tunics we found in your bag.” 

“Aren’t Coral and I similar in size?” Emmeline asked, now glad she hadn’t managed to ruin one of Newt’s tunics too. 

“Coral wouldn’t let you have any of her stuff. She said she preferred to keep it barf free. And Lena threw the rest of your clothing out after you vomited on your satchel.” Clara gave Emmeline an odd look. “And none of the boys wanted to see you undressed, so…” she paused for a moment. “Anyways, Lena said she’ll take you shopping for a new satchel and some clothes as soon as you’re better.” 

“Thanks, Clara,” Emmeline whispered, grateful the girl wasn’t pitying her. 

It was hands down the best bath Emmeline ever had. The caravans lacked certain necessities - like showers. The hung waterproof bags on the hooks on the roof of the caravan. When it rained, the bags would fill with water. There was a small patch at the bottom that opened to reveal small holes that slowly dumped out the water. It made for a short and cold shower, especially with the blankets billowing around. 

The water in the bath was heated by flames before it spiraled from several faucets into a large tub. Emmeline took Clara’s suggestions on which soaps to use. The scents were sweet and floral, but it was better than Emmeline’s stench. 

She scrubbed herself clean until the water was grayish with dirt and grime. She washed her hair until the waves could be combed through. The water felt cold and Emmeline was feeling a bit dizzy so she climbed out of the tub, drying off with a towel. She pulled Lena’s even larger tunic around her, fastening it around her waist with the belt from Newt’s tunic. Luckily, Emmeline’s leggings had been salvaged. 

She crept out of the washroom and down the steps feeling like an entirely new girl. 

Newt joined her in the kitchen, explaining it was nearly two in the afternoon. Lena hadn’t been able to help herself and had already bought Emmeline a new wardrobe. They raced upstairs and discarded Lena’s tunic, changing out for one that fit her well. 

Newt was waiting for her in the kitchen again. “I almost forgot,” he said quickly. “I’m supposed to escort you to the Elders - if you’re feeling well enough.” 

Emmeline nodded, ignoring the nausea she was feeling. 

Newt began to lead the way and Emmeline felt ready. The Elders would catch whoever had tried to murder her. 

Hopefully.