Bones of Salt

Roman

On the way, Jonathan explained the differences he'd noticed in the way the Creatures had been acting.

It was mostly stuff Atticus, Aurora and Mix already knew about -- how they'd been acting weirdly, looking for strength in numbers, and how difficult it was to dissipate them now.

I told him about Immanuel. At first, I wasn't sure the Watchers would want my take on any of their problems, but then I realized I was holding back my knowledge due to fear of being judged.

I promised myself I wouldn't do it. Not in front of smooth, too-good-to-be-true Jonathan Ducas. Or Whats-his-name, for he didn't seem to want to be called that.

"The major problem in that case was obvious," I explained. "Immanuel should have been killed, and turned into a Watcher. There aren't really cases of people who survived the encounter with one with only a scratch."

"It was hardly only a scratch, he almost bled to death," Atticus bit his lip. "And, brother, how do you know, really, in the whole wide world, how many cases like this one exist? It's not like everything that happens is documented in those books you read."

I felt myself blushing. Atticus knew how it worked, knew that what I was saying was right, so why did he have to make me look like a damned fool?

"First of all," I said, trying to rein in my anger. "The history of Watchers is heavily documented and has been researched for century. Those books I read can really cover up everything."

"Secondly," I added. "I heard a voice and had a vision when I touched him, brother. I'm a fucking Prophet."

"Roman," Atticus simply said. "Don't swear. I thought you would get rid of that nasty habit."

"Immanuel had a wound," I continued. "The skin should have been ripped, but it wasn't. The new skin had already regenerated. I had to cut through it."

Jonathan stole a glance at the knife I was carrying with me.

"So," he coughed. "The skin had healed, but the wound had not?"

"Yes," I said. "From the way I see it, the skin was healing like it would have done if Immanuel had become a Watcher, but the wound was festering, as Immanuel had not really died. It doesn't really make scientific sense, but, in improper terms, I'd say something effed up with your resurrection thingy."

I savoured the disgusted look on Atticus' face at my phrasing.

Jonathan was muttering to himself a bunch of scientific explanations as to why this could have gone so wrong, when we finally saw the Creatures in the distance.

When I saw which boys they were attacking, I said, "Sorry, but I'm sitting this one out."

"Like you could do anything else," Atticus huffed. 

At the same time, Aurora asked me, "Is this because of my drawing?"

"No," I smiled at her. "Don't worry about the drawing. Sure, I could have been in a corner doing cool and powerful stuff, but it wasn't the point of the plan..."

"Cool and powerful stuff?" Jonathan asked me, wide-eyed. "You don't know the name of any of your techniques, do you?"

"Of course I do," I bluffed. "But I don't want anyone else feeling left out when I mention their complex names in the old language."

Aurora laughed, kind of spoiling the whole point of my reply.

Minx and Atticus, in the meantime, had already started attacking the Faduas. 

Since I really wasn't planning to do anything, I took my time to study them. I had already seen them in pictures, but I didn't patrol with Watchers, which meant I'd never seen Creatures up close.