Now what? No one gave me a key. But there was no lock, so clearly, it couldn’t be opened with a key. I pulled at the lid, turned it upside down, hit it in various places, shook it and pulled some more. There was no use. It was obvious that I was supposed to open it, but I had no idea how.
I looked over at Klaus, who was holding his palms over his own box, whispering something in a language that was unfamiliar to me. I cocked an eyebrow. The box opened, and what looked like shimmery dust floated out of it. Oh. That doesn’t look particularly exciting. But that wasn’t what the expression on Klaus’s face said. He was livid. Even more so than when Sariel had insulted him earlier. He literally looked like he’s seen a ghost. Before I had time to ask him if he was okay, he jumped off the platform, box secured in his arms, and floated smoothly to the ground. I wanted to see what he was going to do next, but that meant looking down, and I just wasn’t that curious. Or stupid.
Shit. I’m the last one. I risked a glance around me as I hugged the tree with one hand and the box with the other, and saw that all the platforms were empty. How the hell do I open the box? Klaus used his powers, and I bet they all did the same. But I don’t have powers! As if it wasn’t enough that I was finishing last, I didn’t even know what the test wanted from me. To open a box?! And what would I find inside? What had made Klaus look so terrified? Oh, damn it! I could feel my anger and frustration take over, and I allowed it to happen. I was trapped. Stuck. Bound by my hands and feet because I didn’t have any special powers or skills. Fuck this! It’s not fair! I let go of the tree, no longer fearing that I’d lose my balance. I lifted the stupid box above my head and hurled it at the ground. Three seconds. No sound. Then it hit the ground, and it splattered into a hundred tiny pieces, making the loudest metallic noise I’d heard
in my life. I couldn’t resist the temptation this time. I had to see. So, I sank to my knees carefully, moved closer to the edge of the platform, and looked down down down.
The shimmering dust I had seen emerge from Klaus’s box floated in the air, above the splash of metal splinters, but I could see something else through it, too. I could see someone. A girl. I gasped and scrambled away from the edge. She had blue hair.
CHAPTER FOUR
I was hyperventilating. No way. It can’t be. She can’t be… I shook my head vigorously and drew my knees to my chest. I had to get down there. I knew this was the last part of the test, and I had to climb down the long, wobbly ladder and face her. Now I knew why Klaus had looked so shocked. If my box spat her out, then his box… This is crazy! Magic was crazy. I’d dreamed about a magical world for years, but I’d apparently forgotten to take into account that any magical world would be, first and foremost, absolutely and undeniably insane. I guess I had counted on having some magic myself. Face the crazy with my own crazy. No such luck.
Okay, I have to get down. I have to. I took a couple of deep breaths. The other candidates had all probably finished the test a long time ago. Klaus, too. I couldn’t stand the thought that they were all waiting for me, impatiently. I could even imagine Sariel tapping his foot angrily, and Lorna rolling her eyes every two minutes, both annoyed they couldn’t move on and see in which Cabal the test had distributed them because of the pathetic human who was stuck up in a tree. I was probably going to pay for annoying them, too.
Saying a little prayer (I had never been religious, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know the prayers my dad mumbled all the time), I swung my legs over the edge and planted them firmly on the ladder. Don’t look down. The descent was scarier than the ascent. The wind had picked up, and it was blowing the ladder back and forth, then slightly to the right, making me grip the rungs even harder, my fingers white with tension underneath the black gloves. I mean, I couldn’t see them, but I could feel them cold, almost frozen. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath and wait for a particularly strong gust of wind to pass. If I slipped and fell now, my body would end up splattered on the ground, just like the box. And the box had been metal. Compared to it, my poor mortal, human body was made of frail bones, mushy flesh, and buckets of blood. It would have been a horror movie. If anything, I didn’t want to scar Klaus forever, so to save him the abhorrence of seeing my brains and guts splashed all over the forest floor, I descended the ladder with extreme care, taking my time, doing my best not to think about how I was making everyone wait.
My feet finally touched the ground, and I turned around, slowly. She had her back to me, but there was no mistaking her. The exact height, the soft curve of her hips, the narrow back. The freshly dyed blue hair. She was me. I gulped. I could tell she wasn’t real. Her feet were floating an inch above ground, and her whole body was surrounded by that shimmery dust, which I guessed kept her alive. Alive? No, she can’t be alive. I’m alive. She’s just a copy. I chewed on my lower lip and took my time removing the gloves in an attempt to stall. I looked around me, and my eyes widened when I realized I wasn’t, in fact, the last one to finish the test.
Klaus was saying something to the cloud of shimmery dust in front of him. I couldn’t see the person he was talking to, but I could guess it was either him, or… well, fuck knew! Maybe someone close? Maybe not everyone saw themselves after opening the box. Sariel was a few feet away from me, too, and that made me feel slightly better. The mighty archangel who had flown over all the obstacles to get here must have been debating his final move for a while now. He was holding a tall scythe in his hands, his long fingers gripping the handle for dear life.
That was when I noticed a whole row of scythes had appeared behind me, too. As if out of nowhere. Magic. Would I ever get used to it? I studied them for a moment, noticing how they all looked kind of the same. The only thing that was different was the combination of runes on the blades. I cocked an eyebrow. I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do with so many scythes. Maybe I had to pick one? I looked over at Klaus, who was reaching out for a scythe, hesitating between two that were closest to him. Interesting. They’re supposed to be like… wands? Like when the wand chooses a witch, or a witch chooses her wand? The thought made me feel a bit more excited, so I stepped forward and patted the blue-haired girl on the shoulder. As she turned around, the shimmery cloud around her shifted, which gave me a better view of the glade we’d all ended up in. Behind her, there were a bunch of other candidates staring at their boxes, talking, gesticulating, crying… Crying? A beautiful girl with red hair and cute freckles all over her pale face was bawling her eyes out. I swallowed hard and turned to my… err… own challenge. Mila.
Her blue eyes fixed on me, and she smiled. But it wasn’t a happy smile. It was more like… sad, regretful, pleading.
“Well, here we are,” I whispered. “I am me, and you are me, too. Or, are you?”
A tear tumbled down her cheek. She was dressed in a pair of tattered jeans, an old, pink T-shirt that had once been red, and a hoodie that had seen better days. It struck me that her clothes looked familiar. They were mine. They had been mine a few years ago. Three? I had to turn the T-shirt into a cleaning rag after my boobs went through a growth spurt. Studying her face with piqued interest, I noticed she was, in fact, younger than me. Yes. She was me, but three years younger.
“Look what I’ve done,” she said in the most heartbreaking voice she could muster.
I don’t… sound like that. I never sound like that, not even when I’m sad.
I opened my mouth to ask what she was talking about, but then she stretched out her arms, palms up.
I took a step back. “I… I don’t know what you…”
She pulled up the sleeves of her hoodie, and I snapped my eyes shut. I didn’t want to see.
“Look,” she begged. “Look what I’ve done.”
I shook my head and took another step back. My heel hit one of the scythes. My hands and arms started itching. It felt like a million ants were crawling right under my skin, and I rubbed my arms hard, trying to chase the feeling away. When I touched the inside of my wrists, a chill ran up my spine. The long, deep, white scars felt rough under my fingertips, and I knew what she wanted to show me. She wanted to show me how they looked three years ago, red, angry, raw, gushing with blood.
“Don’t… don’t do that,” I sputtered. “I don’t want to see.”
“But you must see. You must. Look, it doesn’t hurt that bad. I thought it would hurt, I thought I’d faint from the pain, or blood loss…” She sighed, as if she was disappointed. “I guess I didn’t cut deep enough. I should have cut deeper.”
“No!” I opened my eyes and stared right at her face, avoiding looking down. A few candidates around me were startled by my outburst and turned to look at me. From the corner of my eye, I saw a professor step closer. Could they see her? Could they see me? The blue-haired girl dressed like a beggar, arms outstretched, blood flowing down her wrists, pooling in her palms, rivulets finding their way down her fingers, drops hitting the ground only to be sucked up by the soil in an instant? Could they see?
“Look what I’ve done,” she insisted. “I failed. I failed again. Not deep enough.”
I pursed my lips. I felt this strong impulse to reach out and hug her, hug her so hard that her ribs would crush under the pressure. I wanted to… I wanted to rip pieces out of my uniform and bandage her wounds, cover her arms, cover it all. So no one would see. Could they see? I didn’t want them to see.
She took a step toward me, and I stood my ground this time. I still wasn’t sure what the test was, what I was supposed to do to pass it, but what I knew was that there was no way out of it. If only I could figure it out faster and get it over with. Maybe if I ignored her, she’d go away. How selfish does that sound? She was the person I was three years before, but at the same time, she wasn’t. I didn’t remember crying like that. I didn’t remember
that utter sadness in my voice. I’d never told anyone a thing, and my feelings had been my best guarded secret. Even when I emerged from the bathroom with my sleeves pulled all the way over my fingers, time and time again, I would still be the same Mila. The Mila who didn’t care, the Mila who didn’t take anything personally, the Mila who knew it was all temporary. The pain was temporary. The impulse to hurt hurt hurt was temporary. It would all go away one day, and I’d be free. And that Mila… That Mila never cried, or begged, or asked to be seen.
The girl in front of me, the copy kept alive by the shimmery dust, was not Mila.