Cantis whipped out a gigantic syringe.
Nathan stared at the plastic tube the size of his head, filled to the brim with shimmery silver liquid and attatched to a needle as long as his forearm.
"No."
"Oh don't be a fucking mammal." Cantis set the syringe down on the bed. "I just need to jam it into your brain real quick. It'll be over in, like, a second."
"I'm sorry, you need to what?"
Cantis couldn't roll her eyes but Nathan got the feeling that if she physically could, that's what she'd be doing. "Jam it into your brain.Duh.Do you not listen?"
Nathan wished he had just left the praying mantis with Kathryn. Apparently, she had caught Cantis while she was roaming the garden and decided to use "returning her" as an excuse to eavesdrop on him earlier. It would have been great if she'd decided to keep Cantis instead, but no, he had to deal with a maniac insect trying to put a syringe the size of his humerus in his head.
"I'm not letting that thing near me," Nathan said. "Can you even tell how big that is? Hey- stop, no- stay back!"
Cantis picked up the syringe. Despite her small size looking almost comical carrying the large object, there was nothing funny about the way she began to move towards him. Nathan darted out of her way. Cantis looked infuriated and lunged at him, forelegs aiming the needle at his head.
"That thing's ten times your size!" Nathan said as he dodged her, "How are you even carrying it!?"
"With a lot of difficulty! So stay fucking still and let me do my job!" Cantis yelled.
Nathan did not stay still. He hastily retreated as Cantis smacked face-first into the wall he had been standing against just a few seconds ago. Cantis whipped around, one foreleg gently caressing her antennae, and shouted, "Enough! You!" Cantis pointed at him. "Stop moving around and sit down!"
"And what makes you think I'll—" Nathan started, but a sudden ringing in his ears rendered him unable to continue. He involuntarily clutched at his ears, a pang of pain shooting through his head.
It sounded like a thousand bells ringing at the same time, all to different rhythms, none in harmony. The cacophony amplified, growing stronger, louder, more potent with each echo. Then repeated. Again. And again. And again.
There was a pattern to it. Nathan could almost— almost— grasp it, but he couldn't think over the ringing and— oh gods did it hurt. The pain spiked up with every passing second, until all he could think was stop hurting, stop hurting, please stop hurting—
And it stopped, just as suddenly as it had started.
Nathan blinked. What...what had he been doing, again?
Cantis stared at him impatiently. "Well?"
...Cantis had told him to do something, hadn't she? What was it?
Stop moving around and sit down.
Right. That was the order. He had been resisting it, for some reason. He wondered why. It seemed easy enough.
Nathan looked around and sat down on the nearest chair. He had an urge to tap his fingers against his knee, but Cantis had told him to stop moving, hadn't she? He'd better not.
Cantis stepped up with a...syringe. A very big syringe. Nathan frowned.
"This is going in your brain," Cantis said slowly. "It'll hurt, but it'll be quick. Don't resist it."
"Oh," Nathan said, easing up. Well, he didn't really need to resist. If it would be over quickly, then he might as well take it. His worries were pointless; Cantis obviously knew what she was doing. "Okay."
Cantis gave him an odd look. "Huh. This is weird."
"It is," Nathan agreed, though he didn't know what exactly Cantis was referring to. But she was probably right.
"Ugh. Whatever." Cantis scrambled up his leg, still clutching onto the syringe. "Close your eyes."
Nathan closed his eyes. He felt the tip of the needle against his hair and winced as it was pushed in.
In the darkness of his shut eyes, he didn't realize when he blacked out.
* * *
They were cornered.
Marilla's knuckles turned white from her grip on her spear. It was a new one, had arrived just that morning as a gift from her...family. She had wished she could plunge it into flames, but it was a good weapon, undeserving of that fate. She had wished she wouldn't have to use it, but here they were, surrounded, and it was the only weapon available. She hadn't even gotten the time to name it yet.
Pressed to her back, Erik heaved a sigh. She heard the sound of him unsheathing his sword and let out a relieved sigh of her own. They would be fine. They were two of the best fighters in the Academy. Besides, she was a Vessel. So what if the killer was always two steps ahead of them, always scheming, always victorious?
They couldn't die. Marilla refused to die. Not here. Not now. Not after everything.
"I can commend your determination, at least," someone said.
The voice was coming from behind her, placing Erik in the direct line of sight of the killer. Marilla gripped her spear tighter, resisting the urge to knock him to the ground, hide him, tell him to run away somewhere safe. She'd rather not have him on this battlefield at all. She couldn't guarantee his survival, and she didn't know what she'd do with herself if he didn't make it.
"You would willingly walk into a trap so obvious?" the voice continued. "Your stupidity truly knows no bounds."
"You won't get away with this!" Erik yelled. "You sick, sick bastard! Do you take some sort of sadistic pleasure in mutilating the corpses of your victims!? Do you not feel anything for the families who will find their children dead!? Is this all some game to you!?"
Marilla opened her mouth to tell him to shut that stupid, lovely mouth of his so she could figure out the direction of the approaching footsteps, but Erik suddenly cried out. Marilla turned around just in time to see him collapse, his body hitting the ground hard.
"Erik!" she yelled as she hastily kneeled next to him. An arrow was embedded in his shoulder, and his face was twisted in pain. Marilla laid down her spear and considered pulling out the arrow, but she didn't know if it had a large arrowhead that could get stuck inside. What if it was poisoned? How could she help? Years and years of training, so much knowledge about destruction, but she didn't know one thing that could help Erik right now.
"Hm. I didn't think you'd bring her along." The faceless voice carried on. "That does put a minor hamper on the plans. I'll just have to kill both of you. I'm sure they won't mind me getting rid of the extra nuisance."
'They'? Who was 'they'? All this time, Marilla had believed the killer was working on their own. Was that not the case?
"Show yourself, coward!" Erik snapped, blood dripping down his arm.
A moment of silence fell, only broken by the chiming of church bells in the nearby town square.
Then slowly, from the darkness, a figure emerged. Feet first, then an oh-so-familiar pair of black gloves, then finally—
"Caleb," Marilla whispered.
Caleb slowly dragged his eyes towards her. He smiled. "Good afternoon, Marilla. The Roselyn send their regards."
* * *
Nathan sprang up, gasping. His head throbbed, his heart pounded. His fingers were all jittery, he couldn't control them— and he had never quite settled into this body but suddenly everything felt so much worse, so much more wrong.
Orion. Ursa Major. Ursa Minor.
He lowered his head onto his hands, palms pressing into his eyes until he saw static. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. In, hold, out. In, hold, out.
"Oh, you're awake."
Nathan slowly turned in the direction her voice was coming from, eyes too tired to do anything but blink blearily.
"What," Nathan said, "in the world was that?"
Cantis shrugged. "It was a...what do you call it? Excerpt."
"Excerpt."
"From the book you're in."
"No, I—" Nathan frowned. "That's not— what did you do to me? Was that— were you controlling me?"
"Just a little function that comes with the pack," Cantis said, waving it away. "I can only use it ten times per mission, though, so I'd prefer if you didn't make me waste one by being immature next time."
"Cantis— oh my fucking gods. You can't just do that."
"I fucking can too. Why else would that function exist?"
"Well, there's this thing people like to have called autonomy," Nathan snapped. "Maybe you'd know if you had any yourself."
"Hey. Uncalled for. I was just doing my job."
"You could've asked." Nathan tried to stop his nails from digging into his face. There had been someone in his head. Someone in a head that wasn't even his, controlling his consciousness. "If you had bothered to just ask, I'd have given in eventually."
Cantis scoffed. "How was I supposed to know? You mammals are so fucking scared of needles for some reason— and I can't just send the syringe back! I'd lose my job!"
"To hell with your job—"
"And you're such a wimp—"
"You can't just do whatever—"
"With your fragile fucking feelings—"
"Get out!"
Cantis stopped. "What?"
"Just—" Nathan shut his eyes and let out a shaky breath. "Get out. Of my head. Of my sight. Please, just— just get lost."
"I'm your fucking Guide, you know how much trouble I'll be in if the Agency finds out—"
"I couldn't give less of a fuck about your Agency! Just— please leave."
Cantis bristled. "I can't risk that. The Agency could kill me if they decided to."
A laugh forced its way out of Nathan. "And that is my problem because?"
Cantis' antennae flared up. "Because I'll be dead."
"One less headache for me."
"Fuck you." Cantis said, her voice thick with something Nathan didn't want to name. "I hope you fuck up so badly you get ejected from this mission. Motherfucker."
(Long after Cantis was gone, Nathan laid on the bed, staring tiredly at the ceiling. The lights almost looked like constellations if his vision blurred enough.
"Good riddance," he muttered to himself, ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut.)