Page 11 of A Mastery of Monsters

Bailey’s house is practically made of windows.

There are two huge ones on either side of the living area, small ones lining the bedrooms, including two skylights in each loft, and another long, wide window in the kitchen.

She doesn’t own curtains because it would destroy the natural view, she said.

And she refuses to turn on any overhead lights unless absolutely necessary, choosing instead to use multiple candles.

As eight o’clock hits and the sun goes down, I stay bathed in darkness in my room and watch Bailey doing her regular routine of candle lighting.

My phone vibrates, and I glance at it before swapping out my ratty at-home sweatshirt for a T-shirt and pulling on a pair of bike shorts. I leave my loft, making my way down the stairs to the front door.

Bailey pauses, a lit match between her fingers.

“Going out again?” Her voice is unnaturally high-pitched.

I guess because she’s worried about where I’m headed.

I came back from Virgil’s place hours ago, and she picked me up at the dock.

I spent the rest of the time scouring the internet for anything more about that Samantha girl without any luck.

The only thing I found were pleas from her family for her to be found, and that she was part of the Queen’s Black Student Society.

The fire on the match is getting closer to the tips of Bailey’s fingers.

I say, “I’m staying on the island. I’ll be back soon.” I don’t give her time to answer, just open the door and leave.

The tiny house community paths are marked by solar-powered lights stuck in the ground so that you don’t get disoriented at night. It’s a big property, and there are about a dozen homes on it, spread out in a semicircle.

As has become my habit, I scan the area as I walk. Checking for massive rabbit ears. At night, I lie in bed thinking about Jules resting between those folded arms, the claws digging into his skin.

I don’t know if he found my note. If he knew I was sorry.

Not for the new me. Just, I guess, for blowing off the fact that he was trying to care about me.

It always felt like me and Jules were on the same page.

We were our own island against the world.

Now I’m finding out he had a boat all along, and he’s left me here, supposedly for my own safety.

Once upon a time, I would have stayed put like I was told.

I follow the long path down to the road, where a white Toyota RAV4 is waiting. Virgil’s in the driver’s seat, and Corey’s on the passenger side.

When I get into the back, she beams at me. “Nice to see you again!”

“I didn’t need you to come,” Virgil says to her.

“But what would you do without my moral support?” Corey says, pressing a hand to her chest.

He rolls his eyes.

“I thought we were meeting someone,” I say.

Virgil says, “We are. She’s already there, so I’m borrowing her car.”

Down the path, Bailey is standing outside the house in her shorts, watching us.

I hunch, lowering myself in the seat. I don’t want her to see me with the same boy twice and start asking uncomfortable questions.

I’m lucky Mia isn’t here. At least Corey is a good buffer.

It would be worse if Virgil came by himself to pick me up.

I stare at the fields out the window as we drive. Farm after farm after farm. Giant swaths of green land and wind turbines. They’re still now—white towers with frozen blades.

Corey is surprisingly quiet during the journey. I was sure she’d pick back up with a barrage of questions. Instead, she and Virgil share wordless glances, having a silent conversation.

It’s the sort of thing me and Jules would do all the time. That intuitive understanding of another person that comes with knowing each other well. My brother could communicate several things to me with a slight widening of his eyes and tilt of his head. And I could do the same to him.

And yet he’d kept something from me. Whatever he was involved in that led to his disappearance. I pull up the hem of my bike shorts, then smooth them back down, over and over.

Finally, Virgil turns down a road that’s more a collection of dirt and rocks and brings us to an area surrounded by trees.

I have my knife back, so if this goes sideways somehow, at least I’ll be prepared.

We get out of the car and walk a ways down until we reach a small clearing.

There are two people waiting for us—a Black girl about my age and a boy who seems a couple years younger.

The girl looks me up and down as we get close.

Her eyes are lined with black wings, lips painted a deep mauve, and her curls are cut in a tapered style, short and shaved on the sides and back, with long, defined ringlets at the front.

She gives me the vibes of a girl who has no problem with looking like she tries hard.

She does, and she does it better than you ever could.

She’s committed to stoicism, but the boy grins and waves. He’s wearing glasses that remind me of Virgil’s. His hair is also shaved at the sides, but his curls are shaped up tall and undefined. It’s a strangely retro style to see on a kid.

“August, this is Margot,” Virgil says, tossing the keys to the girl. “And her brother, Isaac.”

“Hey,” I say, stopping before them.

Margot stares down her nose at me, and I meet her gaze head on.

I’m comfortable with the whole “top bitch” thing.

I spent most of my time in high school following around that sort of girl and being the best friend she stepped on.

I smoothed things over when she was shitty to people, and I ignored it when that attitude turned on me.

It’s a thin veneer for deep insecurity at the end of the day.

Though as I look back at Margot, I don’t get that feeling. She’s not playing at tough to hide insecurities. This is just how she is. I find myself turning away to Virgil.

“Well,” he says to her, rocking back on his heels. “You wanted to meet up.”

Margot crosses her arms over her chest. “Do you understand what it is that Virgil’s asking you to do?”

I say, “We’re teaming up for this competition.”

She scoffs. “So no, not at all.”

“He told you more than that,” Corey says, eyes wide. She turns to Virgil. “You told her more than that, right?”

He shifts in place. “That’s the whole point of coming and talking to Margot, so she can learn more.”

“She’s not one of the candidates Henry suggested,” Margot says.

“He said I could pick someone else if I wanted. I believe she’s the most suitable.”

This guy basically told me that I was his last resort, but now he’s talking me up to this girl.

“Yes, they are somewhat disappointing, aren’t they? But we did know you’d have slim pickings. It remains to be seen if she’s any better.”

“At the risk of seeming rude,” I say, though I couldn’t care less, “what exactly do you have to do with all this?”

“This competition, as Virgil is loosely describing it, is an initiation process that takes skilled students from our society and attempts to mold them into masters of their craft. And what Virgil is skirting around is what we’re seeking mastery of.”

“Okay…” I glance sidelong at Virgil, who widens his eyes at Margot, trying to nonverbally communicate something to her, but it doesn’t work the way it does with Corey. Mostly because Margot purposely looks away from him. “What are you seeking mastery of?”

Margot’s lips pull into a full smile. “I’ll demonstrate for you right now.”

“Margot,” Virgil says, his voice strained. And for some reason, he looks at her little brother, who begins to unbutton his shirt.

My face flushes, and I step back. “Whoa, is this a sex thing?”

“No,” Isaac says, clearly offended, as he toes off his sneakers. “I’m here with my sister. Jesus.”

I ask Virgil, “What is this, then?”

But he isn’t paying attention to me, he’s still talking to Margot. “You said that you and Isaac were just going to talk with her about the bonding and then discuss training. You didn’t mention this.”

“Slipped my mind,” she says, rolling her neck back.

“Maybe we can ease into this using some other method?” Corey asks, stepping next to Virgil. “Is this really the ideal way to do it?”

“It’s my way.”

“Please,” Virgil says. “She’s my best option.”

Margot looks down her nose at him the same way she did to me.

“Your situation won’t change because of what I do here tonight.

She’s either capable or incapable, and better you find that out with me right here, right now, than drag our names through the mud and have me waste time training her.

You risk embarrassing Henry with your choice and damaging his position, which affects all of us. ”

Virgil grits his teeth so hard it’s like he’s gnashing them, and they almost seem… longer somehow.

“I can put you down like a toddler for nap time,” Margot says. “Don’t test me.”

He gets a hold of himself, ceasing any mouth movements. His eyes dart to mine and then away as he wrings his hands. To me he says, “Please try not to freak out. It’s safe. It’s not like at Big Sandy Bay.”

I glance from him to Margot. “What does that mean?”

“Ready?” she asks, turning to her brother. He stands in nothing but his boxer shorts.

He nods. “Ready.”

“It’ll be okay,” Corey says to Virgil, who’s treading a perfect circle in the ground with his pacing. She doesn’t look so good either.

He shakes his head. “You should go wait in the car.”

I expect Corey to refuse, but she swallows and throws a wounded look at me before retreating the way we came.

“Okay, for real, what’s going on?” I ask Margot.

“You’ll see,” she says.