Page 113 of The Villains of Winter

urging his charioteers and fighters bracing shields.[19]’

For a moment, James stood entirely still, then he walked over to the weeping family waiting room. Elliott could hear him take over and assist with paperwork and finalizations.

Hiccuping as he wept, Elliott was curled between the fern plants and the broken water fountain. He couldn’t remain still as Finch’s corpse was covered with a narrow white sheet.

Elliott was inconsolable at the sight of him. He slid to his knees in anguish.

As Mrs. Hudskin sobbed in her husband’s arms, James remained impassible, insensate to any emotion. He collected Finch’s belongings, and he began calling the rest of Finch’s friends to gather at the hospital with cards and condolences.

The receptionist at the JFK Hospital telephoned the coroner to retrieve the body by the end of the day. All at once, it struck Elliott anew in the weight of his soul. Finch was gone.

He was completely gone.

Elliott was crestfallen. Distraught with the earth-shattering revelation that Finch’s life ended abruptly and without cause.

He was haunted by the visions of Finch’s blood pouring out of him.

Elliott wanted to bend the strains of time and space to return to the moment before Finch drank the chalice. He wanted to never attend the banquet. Writhing inside, he regretted the agony he caused Finch and his family.

A hand was on his shoulder. “Elliott, are you alright?”

Elliott gazed up at his tousled white hair. His face blurred.

“I will be fine. Really, I promise.” Elliott teetered on the edge of his sneakers, he rose to a stand, fighting the urge to collapse once more, but he held himself upright. He hoped if James saw that he was alright, he wouldn’t leave the state after Finch’s funeral. Elliott needed to be the one with strength for him. James would need him. “I will take care of everything with Finch. I will come with you.”

“No, I will ensure everything is taken care of for him, Elliott.”

I am cursed, Elliott. Rid yourself of me. Where my path is headed, you cannot follow.

James mentioned beneath his breath, “Elliott, I should’ve told you what the theater department was capable of. When you realize it, you will never forgive me for it.” Elliott never needed to forgive him, there was nothing James could do to make him truly hate him. That was what he believed then. “I would forgive anything for you. I hope you can forgive me for my part in this.”

Elliott tried to dry his face with his tie, but it felt impossible to hold back the tears. He knew James would leave and isolate himself. He gathered himself for him. Elliott admonished himself. Have strength for him for once, Elliott. For once. “Please, you shouldn’t be alone by yourself. I will come with you.”

“I’ve ruined you in every way imaginable, Elliott. Even Lucien’s death scarred you because of me. You’re still traumatized from the car crash with Mr. Newton because I had my friends take your keys. You had to stand there and watch Finch lose his life. I’ve ruined you. I apologize with every atom within me.” Forsake me.

Elliott slid his hands in his tuxedo pockets. “You never ruined me. I don’t want to be without you.” Somehow, a part of Elliott knew that James would leave him. That his words were a farewell. Half of Jame’s childhood friends were dead. “You can’t be alone out there.”

Those seventeen words made James’s eyes drift up to Elliott’s soft, damp freckles. Freckles he’d dreamt of at night. He wanted to keep the memory of Elliott within his heart. His golden eyes gazed upon him one final time. James rose his eyes to Elliott’s neck, where the evidence of Lucien was gone completely. He tried to force his eyes back down, but they trailed upward, witnessing the dimples of Elliott’s cheeks that sunk him completely. His mismatched eyes that whenever he smiled at him, left him senselessly intoxicated.

You will only bring catastrophic pain unto him. Leave the state.

James heard his own voice in his ears. “I will always be within you. If you, too, see the same moon we are not that far away.” He kissed Elliott’s cheek good-bye. He started down the hospital steps outside. It was safest for him if they were apart.

Elliott still could not understand the sudden tragedy. “His chalice seemed fine when I drank it. I should’ve never handed him my chalice instead–”

James stopped cold on the last step. “You exchanged chalices with him? The chalice was yours?”

Professor Illaria had handed it to Elliott herself, right from the serving trays of the seniors.

His eyes shone with tears. “If I had drunk the pomegranate juice instead, I might not have had the same reaction as him.”

“The drink was meant for you then.” James paled. “He was the one who was supposed to watch you die.” James appeared sickened. “You’re certain it was your drink, Elliott?”

Elliott nodded, his eye scratched from his seventh attempt to dry himself. “Finch asked for my non-alcoholic drink because of his medication.”

“Filha da puta.” James wasn’t making any sense, attempting to constrain his mind around the horror that was planned to have happened that night in front of James and Finch. “Degenerada.” She had failed to execute Elliott Archway the first time. That was her second attempt at his public execution. She plotted the murder of his best friend, twice, and she killed his other best friend in the pursuit. All to punish James. She had not merely declared war with him.

She had demanded annihilation.