The Book of Miranda | gxg | ✔︎

(34) The Judged

I swear this whole cult lives in a rabbit warren. Or lived, I guess; the tunnels down here look so old, I half expect to find three-hundred-year-old treatises to love or copulation graffitied on its walls from bygone occupants. There's certainly enough room to sustain a sizable secret operation. If they packed enough food in the cellar-like cold rooms, and were willing to drink from the demon's pool, they could probably even withstand a proper siege.

We've got less than half an hour until Exie and her small army need to be back in class. That's not to say the teachers won't come looking for them before then, but several students assure me their compatriots at ground level have got us covered in that respect. I decide to believe them. If the school proves them wrong, at least we've got the teachers outnumbered.

The scout-student leads us down the tunnel to whatever room they found. Everyone resumes their guarding positions as we cluster around the new door. Sure enough, there are faint sounds of motion from the other side: a shuffling of shoes and the occasional faint cough. I surreptitiously ready a match. If we bust down this door and find actual demons locked up on the other side, I want to be ready to burn something. I no longer take chances with this school.

The two human brick walls from before line up to annihilate this door, too. Exie rolls her eyes.

"We have a lockpicker here," she says.

The pair steps back with sheepish looks. Juliet accompanies Barnabas to the door, where he plucks a small metal tool from some secret compartment on his shoe and gets to work. It's another minute before the lock clicks open. Barnabas retreats immediately and is surrounded by protective students once more. It's kind of endearing. If this is the attitude the student body has towards each other in the face of adversity, we might actually stand a chance in this fight.

Nobody seems to want to touch the door. Exie steps in again, directing the two bodyguards to make the first move. One tentatively takes the door handle while the other braces to intercept anyone or anything that launches through when it opens. On a count of three, the door swings wide.

Nothing lunges out. Students inside step back from the light we carry, shielding their eyes. Colson II is here, which is really all we need to know. We've found the right people. I bob and weave in the candlelight, trying to get a better view into the room. My heart clenches when I spot Clarice. She's standing like the rest, but there's no recognition in her eyes. At least she's alive. We can get her back. We have to.

"Everyone hand over your doves," says one burly student.

Nobody in the room moves.

Exie releases my hand and steps forward. "We're here to free you," she says. "If you want to be freed, step forward now."

It's a fruitless endeavor, I already know. I've been glared at by several of these possessed kids for so much as touching matches in the school chapel. Sure enough, not one student volunteers for exorcism, and several begin to glare. Exie returns to my side with a nod around her. Her strongest compatriots surge into the room. We're fortunate, really, that none of the judged students thus far have been on the particularly muscled side. Clarice nearly makes a bolt for it, but Gilbert intercepts her.

"Be careful," I gasp.

"I'm trying."

He grunts as an elbow connects with his abdomen. Clarice is awfully slippery when she wants to be. Gilbert, luckily, has at least twenty centimeters on her, and a reach to match. With another student's help, he manages to restrain my friend.

I want to be the one to do this. I avoid Clarice's eyes as I dip a hand into each of her pockets. I find her dove on the third try. Clarice goes completely still as I withdraw it. I don't look up. I don't want to give her father the satisfaction of seeing his daughter possessed by an actual demon—not the one he long thought had a hold on her. The dove crinkles in my hand as I fight not to clench my fist around it. I want to crush it like charcoal. But only fire will end this madness.