Original Souls (A World Apart #1) (56 page)

Corinth tried his best to steer clear of Lindle. He didn't want to have to go about explaining his collapse the other day. They weren't there to chat. They just needed a place to wait out the light of day. They would have waited out the clocks while at the library, but And
y’
s stomach was doing back flips. He tried to play it off, so that they would
n’
t have to uproot themselves. But Corinth knew he had practice earlier today. His early lunch wouldn't be enough to hold him over, so the Refectory was the place to be.

"I'll grab us some chow
,
” Anvard said quickly
,“
you know what you want?" he tempered his tone with a patient smile, but he really wanted Corinth to make up his mind and not idle, like usual.

Corinth slammed his backpack onto the second row of circular marble tables. He shoved The Fate Forgery in there after the checkout librarian stiffly informed him that the book couldn't be removed from the library. His explanation was that they didn't have any copies, so it was too valuable to be removed. The man wondered why it was even on the floor to begin with. It should have been behind the booth, under lock and key. Only available upon request and supervised -use. He tried to take the book, but Corinth pleaded, begging to be allowed to read it some more inside of the library. The guy reluctantly approved, on account of Corint
h’
s delicate eyes that swooned many people. Especially ones afraid of losing their jobs if word reached Sena. Hendrix that they crossed the little pampered bugger with the turquoise colored eyes. He snuck it out, just barely secured inside his bulging backpack, when the guy left the checkout station for a short break.

"Um," Corinth took his time sitting down. He put a finger to his mouth and looked to the high ceilings. "Maybe ... uh, I don't know." Anvard thought he'd pass out if he didn't just pick something. "Uh, surprise me!" Corinth lit up as he spoke. Excited at the thought of him bringing back something truly sumptuous of quality. Anvard was satisfied with that answer. He galloped away without delay, so that Corinth couldn't try to make any changes to his decision-less order.

Corinth pulled the book from his bag. A golden clasp closed over its cream cover. A golden plaque at the center, bearing the title. The book was so large he had to hold it with both hands. They gathered a lot of info on the temple's possible whereabouts. But they knew for sure that the only way to be certain was to take the Northern Coaster beyond the North Lake. There were only the mountains out there. But maybe somewhere between them lay the temple. That's where Corint
h’
s dream had him headed. But in every differing scenario, he never reaches his intended destination. He always wakes up before then. He wondered if that meant that he shouldn't be going in the first place?

Anvard came back with more food than Corinth expected. Soda, pizza, fries, and a meatball sub. And
y’
s personal favorites. He sat down beside Corinth at the table.

"Dig in!" He slapped his hands together ready to eat.

"Which is mine?" Corinth asked with a grim look on his face.

"Well, you can have a piece of my sub or something, if you don't want the pizza."

"Oh," was all Corinth said.

"What? What's wrong?" Anvard looked to Corinth with a concerned stare in his shiny pink eyes.

"It's nothing," Corinth said, sounding like there was definitely something wrong, "it's just that I thought you knew how I felt about pizza."

Anvard closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I've seen you eat it before. Like, a lot of times."

"Yeah
,
” Corinth started off already annoyed
,“
but it didn't have any pepperoni on it, did it?"

Anvard's head dropped low and hit the tabletop. With his forehead against the table he asked, "do you want my sub?" He truly did
n’
t want to give him any of it. Still, he figured it was a heck of a lot easier than Corinth accusing him of only caring about himself.

"If I can have half that's fine." Corinth squinted as Anvard looked away. He was trying to gauge the exact amount of reluctance in Anvar
d’
s body language as he used a knife to turn the uncut foot-long meatball sub into two half-foot sandwiches.

Anvard handed off half of his favorite sandwich to Corinth with a tinge of regret in his eyes. He looked at it with a savory glint as Corinth picked through the contents, discarding some of the cheese and sauce. He couldn't believe he was wasting perfectly awesome salty-good-condiments, like they were scrap metals. He wanted to take it back, and shove it down his throat without a word. But he figured that'd be pretty rude, considering he offered it and all.

From the row of circular tables at their backs and below them, someone inched closer. He watched them interacting with one another so openly. He wished he had friends like that. He kept changing from side to side, trying to get a little closer with each maneuver. Eventually making his way to one of four staircases, spaced evenly apart from one another around the ascending structure. There, he climbed the ranks of circling tables, now sitting on the same level as Corinth and Anvard.

Corinth flipped through the big book, looking for more information on the temple. "So i
t’
s supposed to be pretty cold out there. We shoul
d—
"

"That's not what it says here," Anvard interrupted Corinth. He chewed vigorously on his food, so Corinth barely understood him. He noticed that Corinth had only taken a nibble off his half. He thought that maybe he could snatch it up without Cory being any the wiser, even though they were facing one another while sitting on the same side of the wide table. He knew that would
n’
t work without employing some magik, so he decided to finish his thought instead of Corint
h’
s sandwich. "It says that the firebirds roam as far as the snow capped mountains, though not as high."

"That doesn't make sense, though. I mean, it is a book of myths, so it could be wrong," Corinth suggested.

Anvard put down the last bite of his sandwich in a fit. "Then why are you even doing this! If you don't believe in the myths then go hang out with the girls. I'm sure they'd love to see you." Anvard was adamant about understanding the truth behind mythology. Corint
h’
s attitude was
n’
t making him anymore certain that they had a good reason to be doing any of this.

"I'm doing this because Walker has my uncle," Corinth retorted. "He was a part of my dream. He tried to attack me ... I think?"

"Yeah," Anvard spat quickly, "but the dragon thing took him out, then it attacked you. Your uncle wasn't even a part of the dream, was he?" Anvard seemed to be putting the pieces together. He realized now why the girls had opted out so abruptly. There wasn't much clarity to this plan. He thought maybe Corinth was holding back vital information. Something that would put all of this in perspective. "What aren't you telling me?" suspicion laced with agitation crept through his deliberate harsh tone.

"I thought you didn't need to know?" Corinth countered rhetorically.

Anvard answered anyway. Not knowing that someone other than Corinth was closely monitoring his response. "I was trying to be supportive, but obviously I need to know what's really going on here to make this work."

Slowly, someone reached around their backs with a purposeful finger headed for the pages of the Fate Forgery. Anvard quickly grabbed the hand that the finger was attached to, flipping its owner onto the table. Likewise, onto the book, ripping the page they were just reading from.

"The book! Watch it, Anvard." Corinth had grown just as impatient with Anvard, as Anvard had with Corinth.

"Well, I'm trying to keep us from getting attacked!" the super jockish Levantarse champ shot back.

They drew some attention, but neither of them cared much about that. There was so much noise in the Refectory that people would soon be distracted by another rambunctious series of sounds coming from somewhere else in the huge domain. Meanwhile, the book on top of the marble table begged for mercy. The guy squirming on top of that book also begged and pleaded.

"Corinth, Corinth I'm sorry! I was just going to point out something that I thought was relevant to your conversation," Lindle sounded sincere, but Anvard didn't release him from the death grip he held him in.

"Why were you listening to us in the first place?" Andy said through his teeth, leaning inward.

"I wanted to help! Corinth you know me. Tell him, please!" Lindle didn't know why Corinth was just standing there watching this go down.

"Look," Corinth started evenly, "I understand that your personality comes off awkward, but is
n’
t totally warped and everything. But you can't just throw yourself into peopl
e’
s laps like that. You scared us, and you weren't supposed to hear what we were talking about. That's why we're sitting so far away from everyone else. You obviously knew that. That's why you gradually slinked your way over. I saw you sitting the level below this one when we walked in," Corinth amply informed him.

"Oh, you did?" Lindle asked, with his head virtually up-side-down, as Anvard finally released him.

"Yeah, I did," Cory stated plainly.

Lindle righted himself on the table carefully. He didn't want to further damage the book. "You saw me, but you didn't want to come over and say hi?" His tone made both their hearts ache for him. He sounded so alone. They both knew what it felt like to be an outcast in one way or another.

Corinth chose his next words carefully. "No, i
t’
s just that we're kind of going through something. We didn't really want to pester you with our problems. You looked deep enough in thought as it was while your head was buried in those books."

Lindle could see right through him. "Yeah sure, whatever." He hopped off the table and walked away. Then he did an about face. "Oh yeah!" He walked back over and flipped a few pages in the book. "I've read this one before. I'm surprised they let you leave with it. They never let anyone leave with the ones from behind the booth."

"The whole thing?"

"What?" Lindle asked without taking his eyes off the book.

"You read this entire thing?" Anvard asked again. "It's huge, and the prints kind of small."

"Yeah," Lindle huffed out, "when you spend a lot of time alone semester after semester, you either get acquainted with books, or find yourself dangling from the ledges of insanity."

Anvard was
n’
t prepared for that dark response. He just met the kid, and he was already pouring his heart out. He figured he'd let the coming night breeze clear the air, instead of conjuring up some bright rebuttal for the melancholy boy to view as a patronizing remark. He wasn't in the mood for talking someone down anyway.

Lindle found the chapter he was looking for. "Eureka! That should help clarify a few things." With that, he turned and walked back to his area. He scooped up all of his books and snacks, then came right back over to them after a few minutes. Anvard rolled his eyes when he saw him on his way -back over. They had
n’
t bothered to look at the book just yet, because they were still arguing about the merits of their journey. Corinth did not intend to let Anvard deter him in any way imaginable.

Lindle walked around the table, instead of coming up behind them. Standing in front of them both, the despairing boy said, "chocolate?" He held out a canary yellow carton that resembled a cigar box. Inside were flat little coin like chocolates wrapped in gold pixie dusk foil. Against the lights on the ceiling, the little chocolates shined & shimmered brightly.

"Look, dude, we're not trying to be mean, but we've got a lot going on. So, if you could jus
t—
"

"I'll have one," Corinth shut Anvard down on purpose. He noticed that the chocolates were Smoldering Golds. The best brand in all the Worlds. He thought about how he used to share them with his dad almost every night a few years back. He wished he could go back to those days. He peeled the wrapper off, popped it in his mouth and his taste buds were inundated with joy. "Yum, thanks!" Corinth said with chocolate stains on his teeth.