Rheid Lopez-Callahan sends us back to bed, which is infuriating since how can we sleep when you just told us you would explain everything, but makes sense when we consider the fact that the Race is in a few days. They give us two nights and two days to settle in, and one of those nights is nearly gone.

     Jamie still looks a bit confused, which also makes sense given that I have much more knowledge than he does and I'm confused, but he gives me a small smile before slipping down the hallway towards the men's rooms. I silently sneak back to my room, before turning in the doorway to look at the Hunter.

     "Just a...quick statement?" I ask tentatively.

     He meets my eyes, a thousand expressions flickering across his face. No doubt he's expecting me to attack him, to blame him for my father's death. But while my dad told me stories of the Hunt, and witchcraft and magic and fate, he taught me to respect prophecy. If Rheid Lopez-Callahan (I still can't bring myself to call him anything other than his full name) says that he had to wait, I will accept that he had to wait.

     I stare defiantly into his eyes, meeting his gaze with a steady, determined look of my own. "We start in the morning. And you better have a good explanation, ex-Hunter."

*****

     When I said 'the morning', I wasn't expecting a cloaked figure to appear in my room just after daybreak. I had about an hour of sleep, due to our late-night meeting and the thoughts that kept racing through my head. So understandably, I react in a way that Jamie and the ex-Hunter were clearly not expecting.

     "Ahh!" Jamie yelps, as my knife buries itself in the wall above his head. "Katie, it's us!"

     Rheid Lopez-Callahan is holding my other knife in his hand, having caught the handle as it whizzed by his face. If I weren't so annoyed at them, I would be impressed. He pulls the other knife from the wall and hands them both back to me.

     "Sorry for waking you, but you did say you wanted to start immediately," he says with a smirk.

      I glare at him and reply, "Give me five minutes. Now get out of my room."

      He gives me a mocking salute, eliciting another glare, and backs out of the room. Jamie locks eyes with me, his embarrassed expression apologizing for what the Hunter had done, before following the older boy.

      I quickly throw on a tunic and pants before buckling my weapons belt on and stocking it back up. Studying the knife I'd buried in the wall earlier, I sharpen the point again and slide it into my belt, satisfied.

      "You can come back in now," I call, swinging open the door. Jamie is sitting on the floor polishing his knife, and Mr. Ex-Hunter is leaning casually against the wall. He saunters back in and immediately sits on my bed. I take a deep breath and remind myself that while he's only a bit younger than my father would be, he has technically been seventeen for over thirty years...and stuck in the palace as a lowly servant. His manners are justifiably bad, and teen boys already have bad manners to begin with.

     Besides Jamie, oddly enough. From my brief impressions of him (as I've known him all of twelve hours), he seems to try and make himself as non-problematic as possible, changing how he presents himself to others so that he won't make any waves. It's an interesting personality trait, one that made sure he escaped notice, but also one that meant people might forget he's even there. But it means he's civil, respectful, and quiet. Not bothering to challenge what other people think of him, just changing to be the perfect person. I make a mental note to get to know him, and maybe try and make him a more confident person.

     Right now, he's standing in the doorway, confusing me until I realize that I haven't invited him in. "Come in," I say. "I already invited you guys in, and even if I didn't, you guys came in earlier anyway."

     He looks a little awkward, confirming my theory that he does whatever he can to make sure no one is uncomfortable. It's a little endearing, actually, but I'll need to make sure he doesn't just get stomped on. He sits delicately in a chair in the corner, eyeing the Hunter sprawled on my bed.

     Sensing this, the aforementioned Hunter sits up. "Sorry," he says, sounding genuinely ashamed. "I haven't had a good bed in a while. I forgot what it felt like!" His tone is teasing, asking forgiveness while also trying to crack a joke. But I can hear the wistfulness, the bitterness, that laces his voice.

     It's now that I remember again that he was essentially exiled, forced to become a servant (a far cry from his former fame), and told by a prophecy that he had to watch his kingdom suffer. Of course he hasn't had a nice bed. He hasn't had anything nice in thirty-two years.

     I soften, and pat the bed next to me. "Both of you can sit here, if you wish. There's plenty of room for everyone."

     Jamie shoots me a grateful look, perching on the edge of the mattress. "We should lock the door," he reminds us. "The last thing we need is someone to walk in on us doing...this." His face is steadily turning red, and I can feel my own cheeks flushing.

     "Right," Rheid says. He waves his hand at the door and turns back to us. "All done. Let's get started."

     Over the next few hours, he recounts the story in painstaking detail. He tells it in a lighthearted manner, cracking jokes all the while, but I can see the pain in his eyes. How many times has he told this story to himself? How many times has he searched for a clue?

     When he reaches the end, finishing with his decision to reveal himself on the balcony, he looks at us with barely concealed hope. Jamie is lost in thought, and I'm turning the story over in my mind, considering all the angles like I'm admiring a precious jewel.

     "Can we see the Vial?" I ask, at the same time Jamie speaks.
     "I'm sorry, but what should we call you?"

     Rheid looks between us, stopping on Jamie to answer his question first. "Just Rheid is fine," he replies. "And yes, here it is."

     He tugs on a chain that was hidden beneath his tunic. On the end of it, a small bottle filled with what can only be described as stars hangs. The substance is a whitish color, with a consistency that looks almost like liquid, but also a solid sort of dust.

      "It's beautiful," Jamie breathes. We stare at it, transfixed, as Rheid takes a breath and dims the candles with his magic.

      The Vial glows, taking on a warm light. I'm struck, suddenly, with a feeling of rightness. Like we're on the right track. Like maybe, everything could end up right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Written January 24, 2024

Word count: 1194

{kinda filler but who cares bc #jatie is amazing and also i like writing in katie's pov}