Chapter Ten: Under | Part 9
Thirtyx could scarcely inhale enough air to breathe his reply. “You don’t care about the twins. You want a bargaining chip!”
The malice in her grin sent an uncomfortable shudder down Thirtyx’s spine. “It’s cute that you think a single person in this school would hesitate to turn on them if it came to that. And if you intend to go down with them, your naivete may very well get you killed. But I intend to look out for myself, so for the last time, put him back under!”
The professors exchanged looks Thirtyx couldn’t quite read, but they complied. Professor C resumed her humming. Professor Dexerro withdrew his signet ring. Bavarren folded his arms and watched Thirtyx with uncomfortable scrutiny.
He knew he’d fall faster this time, the previous trance having siphoned his remaining willpower. He already found it tough to wrench his eyes away from Azirenne’s trancing amulet. He needed to strategize. He needed more nonsense. What had he already thought of? Helmets, strobe lights, a spell that smelled like perfume when cast—
The prickling in his mind returned. It took a monumental effort for Thirtyx to look from the trancing amulet to Bavarren, whose eyes were sparkling again. Of course. If he peeked at Thirtyx’s arsenal of imagined absurdity, he could separate it from the truth later.
What could he do now? The hesitation cost him his remaining time. He hadn’t even noticed that his eyes had fallen back on the amulet, then all of him was falling…
Falling asleep.
So sleepy.
So…
“Thirtyx, wake up, buddy! We have to move!” Benn was shaking him, but he felt so heavy and warm and tired.
“Thirtyx, come on! We have to get out of here!”
He forced his eyes open.
Benn’s unsettlingly large, bubble-shaped helmet warped his panicked expression in a way that redoubled the nausea Thirtyx didn’t remember having before. “Come on,” Benn repeated. “We have to go meet Rhea. Get to somewhere with fresh air. Here, put this on, so you don’t fall asleep again.” He offered Thirtyx a helmet to match his.
“What’s the helmet for?” Thirtyx’s mouth felt sluggish and uncoordinated.
“The dorms got gassed. That’s why you’re so sleepy. The helmet will filter the gas out—then you can help me figure out how to get to Rhea.”
Thirtyx did as instructed, but the helmet didn’t help his disorientation. Or his sense of unease. “Where’s Rhea?”
“Just outside the campus gates, but the Veriths who attacked locked down the campus. They’re monitoring all the exits, and they’re closing in. They want to kill me and Rhea!”
As Benn peered anxiously out their dorm room window, Thirtyx frowned. That would be a tough conundrum even if he wasn’t recovering from knockout gas. His heart hammered. His head pounded. His stomach pitched like a ship in a storm.
The world began to flicker, and Thirtyx smashed his eyes shut against the bright assault. Strobe lights. “That means they’re coming!” Benn cried. “Please, Thirtyx, do you have any ideas?”
“Save yourself.”
Benn’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Get yourself out, even if you can’t take me.”
Thirtyx tried for a gravely serious look, but it was nearly impossible through the helmet. It certainly wasn’t helping his headache. He’d had one before this all started because…
It wasn’t important. What was important was that Benn hadn’t moved, still staring at Thirtyx like he had three heads. Thirtyx squared his shoulders and tried to look Benn straight in the eyes. “Grimmary showed you that glittery glimmery magic for a reason, didn’t he?”
Benn looked uncertain but eventually nodded. “It’s going to smell like perfume when I leave. You’ll need to find a way to explain it.”
“Perfume, right. Got it.”
The strobe lights intensified, sending another shooting pain through his head. Thirtyx groaned and covered his helmet visor with his hands. “Ow, just make the lights stop!”
“Hold on, Thirtyx. You’re strong. You can do this.” Thirtyx dropped his hands to meet Benn’s eyes, and he felt a sudden surge of confidence. He could do this. If the Veriths came after him for information, he could stand up to them, because he’d done it before, hadn’t he?
Was he, in fact, doing it right now?
The strobe lights slowed and distorted. The floor lurched. The room began to melt away, and he heard the headmistress’ voice. “No! Get him back! We can’t lose him now!”
Sleepy. So sleepy.
Calley Jones 