Page 12 of Obsession

The seconds tick past, quiet and heavy. Bar patrons boast about this or that around us. I find the courage to look back at him, finding Simon staring miserably at his drink.

I want to tell that I’m sorry. It’s all horrible, and it feels like it’s my fault. I went to the Institute; I brought Aris with me. I am just so sorry.

I haven’t known Simon that long, but he’s my friend. My only friend, really. He helped me when I needed it, when it counted. He doesn’t deserve this pain. I want to take it away, put it into myself.

Simon clears his throat. “Last I heard, Henry is trying to gather anyone remaining—the ones who managed to get out in time. He’s become the new Grand Mage.”

“Wait, the new Grand Mage? What happened to—”

“Gone.”

We sit in silence.

I figured, but, still.

I hold my necklace, tracing the sharp edges of the charm. He must have died after making the portal for me, his last message a plea for me to end my life. Is it disrespectful to his memory that I am still breathing?

My hands go to my drink, perspiration dripping over my fingers. I can’t imagine the Grand Mage dead. Such a true enemy he was, and also a protector, and perhaps a benefactor and friend? I’m not sure how to feel about this news.

“I’m going to kill Aris,” I say, thinking this might offer something.

Simon takes another long drink, finishing his beer. He motions something to the bartender, who nods, before Simon looks back at me with drawn brows. “Kill Aris?” he says, and I find myself embarrassed by his skepticism.

“I will,” I say firmly. “Well, not alone but—”

“But?” he asks as another beer is brought. I’m asked if I want more, but I haven’t even taken my first sip.

“I’ve got a plan,” is all I say. I’m not sure if I should get into it. “But, look, what are you doing in London?”

“Searching for you.” He pauses for a moment and stares into the pool of his new drink, as if he can see a message in the amber liquid. He hesitates for so long that I’m beginning to think he actually can see something there, until Simon continues, “I didn’t know what happened to you. Where’d you go?”

I tell him about the past couple of days: how Aris let me leave, wandering through the portal, Jaegen finding me, our bargain, and how he’s left me for now.

“Wow,” he says when I finish. “You’ve got two ancient beings fighting over you like you’re the last snack in the cupboard.”

“You think this is a good thing?” I say. His dark humor rubs me the wrong way, but I’m trying not to take offense. I think he’s drunk.

He shrugs and drinks again, the corner of his lips rising and straightening, unable to decide if the situation is funny or not. “You’ve got insurance. The rest of us don’t.” His tone is not friendly.

My irritation evaporates.

“I’m sorry.” I’ve finally said it, and now, the words come in a rush. “It’s my fault. I know that you know that, and if I could take it back, then I would. I’d do everything differently, if I knew what he was planning, if I knew—”

I stop at the thought of pulling my younger self aside, bright-eyed and happy at the Institute. “You have to run. Get out, get out! Don’t trust anyone!” I’d yell, shaking myself, appearing appropriately deranged in the expected manner of all time travelers.

Would I have believed myself? Would knowing the future have changed anything?

Tears come to my eyes, threatening to spill. “I’ll find a way to make it right,” I tell him. “I swear.”

“How?” asks Simon, not sardonically or meanly, practically.

“I just will.”

He hums. He does not believe me.

I absently drink from my cup and try not to wince at the taste. This is my first beer, and I try not to let it show, but Simon laughs at the look on my face. It’s such a real laugh that I feel the urge to drink again, this time making my disgust more dramatized. He needs to smile; I can’t be the reason he stops smiling.

“It’s an acquired taste,” he tells me.

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