over his head and leave.
“There will be official things coming up, Chris,” Marsh says after a long and awkward silence. “Rituals. Things that I can’t say I care for, but that have been handed down for generations. All I did was have the sense to bring them back. Not because I believe in them, not really. They’re all for show. Like a royal wedding. You saw that, right? Did you?”
“Uh, yeah,” I say.
“For a second I was wondering if you’d lost your voice. Do you know someone said that the royal wedding cost around sixty million? When people are dying from not having food and water in this world. When the economy is taking a dive and people are looking for work. But they had to do it. Why? ’Cause it was symbolic. It was all for show. And I thought—when I finally came back here after getting my education and getting some experience—I thought I’d come back here to try and make a name for myself. But I wasn’t a Kinner. I was no Chris Buckley. But I could read and discover the history of this place. So that’s what I brought.”
“The rituals?”
Marsh nods.
“Staunch, of course, does whatever Kinner wants, but I was able to convince the old man to start these again. And somehow it worked.”
He looks at me as the realization dawns on me.
This is the man who killed Jocelyn.
“All I wanted to do was follow the yellow brick road. I discovered that the old man behind the mask—well, he’s the real deal, and you don’t mess with him. But his time is short, and there needs to be someone new. Someone in the lineage. The wonderful, glorious family line.”
Marsh curses, then takes another bite of his salad.
“But when the wizard is gone, Chris, that will just leave us. Staunch, too, but—well, that story is for another day. But there’ll just be the two of us. And I can help you out. I can worry about things you won’t have to worry about. All we have to do is play their game and go through the rituals and say what we believe, and that will be all. Got it?”
I look at Jeremiah Marsh’s face, which I’ve grown to hate.
“Got it?” he asks again.
“Yeah. Got it.”
I wonder if he can read my mind now.
I’m going to kill you, buddy. This time I’m going to wound you and make sure that you die.
If he wants to know who I am, I’ll call myself Dorothy.
And I’ll call him the Wicked Witch. Either of the East or the West.
Whichever one Dorothy ends up killing.
20. Sap
You there?
It’s easy to read Kelsey’s late-night text in the dark.
No , I joke.
Are you sleeping?
Yes. Now I’m sleep-texting.
Funny.
What’s up? I type.
Nothing.
Why aren’t you sleeping?
For a moment—a brief anxious moment—I worry that something has happened to her, all because of me, the special chosen boy …
Just can’t , is all she says.
Everything okay?
I miss you.
The three words surprise me.
I can’t sleep either. That’s becoming somewhat of the norm. I’m worried about what nightmares I’m going to have, what’s going to happen tonight and tomorrow. I’m worried about my mom and about others like Kelsey.
But Kelsey—
She misses me.
Sorry , she writes after I find myself at a loss for words.
Don’t be sorry. That was very sweet to say.
You seem to like the not-so-sweet girls.
I think of Jocelyn and Lily. Yeah, she’s got a point.
Sweet and sexy aren’t always the same thing.
But what I’d love to tell Kelsey is that she’s both.
Of course, I don’t and I won’t. I don’t want her to take it the wrong way.
I like you , is what I tell her.
But for how long?
Why are you worried about that?
Because summer isn’t very far away, she writes.
It sure is to me.
You might regret wanting me to stick around.
No I won’t , Kelsey texts.
You better get to sleep.
You too. Pleasant dreams.
Those only come when you’re around , I write and send.
I feel stupid seconds after, but Kelsey wishes me a good night and I guess it wasn’t that stupid. I don’t
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