Page 114 of Possession

Squinting, I take note of the rune’s design. It’s an intricate thing that would be easy to mess up in the best of circumstances, but especially now with shaky hands.

I will myself to be still and calm down, taking a few deep breaths, but then I start to worry that I’m breathing too loud, which makes me even more scared.

But I don’t have time to be scared. I need to do this. I can finally do something; I can finally help myself, and I won’t mess it up.

Mindful of the volume of my breathing, I raise my other hand to steady the one with the safety-pin. Anyone could come in at any moment. I have to start. Now.

Blood leaks through the pricks, obscuring my view of my arm. With the cleaner side of my shirt, I wipe it away and continue on, thinking again and again of the word hydan and my purpose: staying hidden.

As Cera’s notes explained, magic is actually simple; it’s about energy and intention. So long as you have that and you know the right words to use, just about anything can be done. Or so she said. Maybe she gave me the wrong book right after selling me out to the Following, or I’m doing it wrong and will have nothing but a bloody arm to show for all this effort.

The door to the room slams open, and I go completely still before beginning to quiver with fright. Between the slits in the closet door, I see a sturdy man start to tear the room apart. Beds are upended, furniture thrown, and I flinch as each is knocked against the wall. Finally, he turns to the one place he hasn’t checked: the closet.

And slowly, as much as I will it not to, the door opens, and he looks right at me. His face is hidden by a black and gold mask, but I see his eyes. So cold. There is a gun at his side, and I realize right then that I am going to die. After all of my close calls, after finally finding a way to protect myself, this is how it ends.

I am terrified, but what can I do? I won’t plead; I will not beg for my life. What would it change? And I’m sure that he would like it. I don’t want to die, but we all have to. Might as well go out on my own terms.

I shut my eyes and hold my breath. Ready.

“Clear,” the man calls.

My eyes pop open, mouth dropping low as I watch him stride out of the room. For some time, I sit in stunned relief. I am alive, but how? Did the mask obscure his vision, or did the rune actually work?

Glancing at my arm, bleeding and covered in so much ink I can barely make out the base design, I do my best to get my thoughts in order. First thing’s first, there’s no use hiding in the dark. They probably won’t be come back here if the room was cleared.

I step out of the closet and into the bedroom, which looks like a tornado has swept through it. I’m taken aback that someone so determined to find me could be stumped so easily and lean against the wall to give myself a moment. Running through the situation. People are here to get me, and I’ve just used my first spell. I’ve no idea what the consequences will be, or when they will set in.

Part of me is proud of myself for pulling it off, but I don’t expect to be spending the day celebrating. The Following is here to get me. What are my next steps? Supposing the rune worked, I’m hidden. Now what? Do I seek out Henry? I’m not sure that he’d be in his room, and it isn’t easy to get there. Maybe I should just stay put…?

A sound comes from behind, and I whirl to find a gray vortex where I was just sitting. A portal. But who made it? Who’s coming?

I raise my hands, trying to position myself into a fighting stance, as a familiar form steps through the sludge. I’ve no idea how he can even see me, but he looks right at me and his face lights up.

“Mary!” Henry cries in relief and crushes me to his chest before almost immediately pulling back to look me over. His questions come in a rush: Am I all right? Is that my blood? What happened? He doesn’t even give me a chance to answer before piling onto the next question.

“I’m fine!” I say, interrupting him. “How did you find me?”

He stares down at me. Everything about him is the same, but he feels smaller almost. From just yesterday, he seems smaller.

“Henry?” I ask.

And then, instead of answering what I asked, he bursts into speech faster than I’ve ever heard him talk before. “Mary, we’re in trouble. Deep. I thought that I could contain him—I thought that—I mean, I knew he was planning something. Of course he was planning something, but it’s—he was stringing me along the whole time.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask slowly, stunned by his frantic energy. I’ve never seen him like this. Normally, he’s the one reassuring me, calming me down. “Henry, what’s going on?”

“It’s Aris! I can’t feel him! I don’t know where he is!”

“You can’t feel him?”

And something just… clicks.

Aris hasn’t been hidden away; he never even left. He’s stayed beside me this entire time, just not in me. In him.

In Henry.

I don’t know what to feel. I feel so much of everything that I feel nothing at all. I just look at him.

This is Henry: my friend, my boyfriend. He is everything to me. Aris was in him… How could he keep that from me?

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