Salvation was in 10 minutes. The classroom stood at attention, listening for the ticks over the arrhythmic chattering of Mrs. Schaffer. For everyone else, this was just the end of 3rd period. Agatha carefully aligned her elective classes and honors credits to allow for a free period every other day. Guaranteeing it would be her 4th period was a bit more finesse and hand waving, and perhaps one too many charmed administrators. The world owed her a free 4th period at the very least, she surmised.

 

Unfortunately for her, back row seats weren’t available to her at the start of class, so using her illusory double to sneak out early just wasn’t an option. She’d just have to find another way home without being intercepted by Erik, it seemed. She had no idea what class he had, or if he would be willing to skip his 4th period to find her, but she had a strong feeling he would. The look he gave her on the field was haunting. Something inquisitive. Something vindictive. Whatever he wanted with her, she was sure it would breach the Covenant in several ways, and that was unacceptable. 

 

Just then, someone began obnoxiously tapping fingers on one of the particle board desks. The source could only be described as the single most punk individual Agatha had seen thus far. Denim jacket, patches galore, combat boots, and a close shave mohawk. As soon as their eyes met, she maintained eye contact. After a second or so, she began darting her eyes to a point at Agatha’s feet, then back to her eyes. Message received, she thought, and gave a nod. 

 

A hot pink post-it note found its way to her palm, blank on the side facing her. The flip side read ‘wanna leave early?’. A single eyebrow raised and a hard nod was all she needed to say yes, but how? The girl removed a white sheet with a large, red blotch over the corner from her binder and handed it to Agatha. 

 

Kat Brubaker was written in the name field. By the time she looked back to Kat for an answer, the girl had it spelled out on line paper that she held up: ‘I need another copy.’ Still not entirely certain what this would accomplish, Agatha played along and raised her hand. Mrs. Schaffer stopped her lecture and gave an expectant look. Anyone else would have been intimidated into dropping the ruse, but Agatha had played this part before. She put on her best sweet girl face, put her left arm close to her breast and approached. 

 

“Mrs. Schaffer? I think, uh, Kat needs a new worksheet…”

 

“Did she even fill out the first one?” Said Mrs Schaffer, making no effort to hide her disdain.

 

“Well, I think she may have…” Agatha stifled with dramatic pause, “had a paper cut.”

 

Her teacher’s eyes went from tall and critical to wide and alarmed, or perhaps just frightened. Mrs Schaffer looked past Agatha and at Kat who was holding her fingers now, following the act perfectly. 

 

“P-please get her to the nurses office immediately, I’ll get her a new sheet after class. Now, please!” She demanded hastily. Kat guessed the results correctly, grabbing her and Agatha’s bags and heading for the door. She followed. 

 

About halfway down the hall and out of earshot, Agatha made a guess. ”She can’t stand the sight of blood, can she?”

 

Kat gave a knowing smirk that looked like it was hiding a smile of bursting radiance.“Overheard it from the teacher’s lounge last week. Been meaning to test my theory, thanks.” Both of them seemed to be headed for the first floor exit, and took the same turn down the stairs, which She was grateful for, since it meant she could ask a few more questions before hightailing it home. 

 

“I also overheard,” Kat said with a softer tone,”You stuck your neck out for a friend of mine. That makes us cool.”

That caught Agatha off guard somewhat. Is she talking about Ophelia? Getting the hint that it might be something best left unsaid, she went with a different question.

 

“Is that why you chose me for your little experiment?”

 

“It was a two woman job. She hates my guts, but I knew you’d be able to sucker her in for it.” She said, flicking a pack of cigarettes out of a tight inseam pocket on her leather jacket.

 

“And why is that?” Said Agatha.

 

“I’ve seen you swap faces. You’ve got two of ‘em. One’s an insufferable honor student, the other is a troublemaker. I like that one.” Said Kat, with the audacity necessary to say that, as well as to pound her cigarette carton in the first floor entry hall. 

 

“I’m not sure what gave you that impression.” Said Agatha through her honor student mask, as she opened the door for the both of them and motioned for Kat to go ahead. 

 

“I get it. The best saboteurs leave no trail. Well, care to partake in a small celebration? Unless you’re off to…” Kat trailed off, tipping the red Marlboros right at her. 

 

“I’m headed home. Fourth is my free period.”

“No shit?” Said Kat, clearly impressed. “Look at you miss honors, leaving another college credit on the table? I was right, you are up to no good.”

 

“I’ve got an AP Bio test to study for,” Agatha said, continuing the lie she pushed on Skylar, “So I need all the cram time I can get.”

 

Kat wasn’t buying it either, from the look on her face. “Uh-huh. Well, let’s do this again sometime. I’ll be collecting more teacher intel at my favorite smoke spot.” The two of them made it to the entryway landing and stopped. “I don’t think I caught your name, though…?”

 

The realization that Ophelia may have told Kat about her purely through descriptions was a curious thought. “I’m Agatha. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kat.”

 

“So you do like to snoop around?” Said Kat, now grinning ear to ear, practically splitting her small face and thin nose with approval.

 

“You gave me your homework sheet, remember?” Said Agatha, playfully. 

 

“Oh, yeah? I was kind of hoping my reputation preceded me.” She said, flashing mischievous hazel eyes at her. Agatha could sense there was something else to that look, and made the mature decision to play it coy.

 

“Well, I’ve got to get home while I have a head start. I’ll catch you later.” She started, turning her back and beginning to cross the street. 

 

Kat called out, “At the book club, right?”

 

Agatha froze. This topic kept coming up, and something about it was unsettling. It was stalking her more effectively than the boy she was supposed to be avoiding today.

“Maybe next week, I can’t make it. Yet.”

The walk home became a jog home, and then a sprint home. Spells were out of the question, she couldn’t risk being seen now. The thought occurred to her that she might be paranoid, and that the likelihood of this kid cutting class just to get ahead of her wasn’t high. She was, however, taught not to underestimate the reactions of those suddenly exposed to the supernatural. The possibility that something other than an attendance sheet could govern and shape his life might lead to him doing something unpredictable. 

 

Having already ran this morning, she couldn’t maintain her pace for long. By the time she got home, her timesave was only about 8 minutes. That was just enough to justify a shower in her opinion. She had made up her mind about that by the time she stepped inside. A fresh change of clothes was all she needed, no time to dry her hair when the autumn winds would do it for her.

 

The county library was just under four miles away. Traffic was mild and streets were quiet. In time, her adrenaline faded and was replaced with a sense of inner peace.Normally, she hated this season. Dead leaves, two awkward major holidays, and everything sat at the edge of being too cold for comfort and too warm for coats. But at that moment, it felt beautiful for a change. Hopeful, even. She arrived at the library far too soon for the feeling to linger. It was immediately replaced with a sense of duty. Her companion sensed the anticipation.

 

YOUR HUNT FOR INSIGHT

 

IT IS ANALOGOUS TO MY PURPOSE.

 

PLEASANT.

 

Indeed it is, Wanzewan. For once we see eye to eye on the matter.

 

IMPOSSIBLE. MY GAZE REMAINS AVERTED FROM YOUR DELICATE CONDITION.

 

Correcting her familiar’s intolerance for expressions would have to wait. The woman at the front desk did not seem pleased to be interacting with a teenager during school hours. Agatha’s default excuse of ‘it’s a school project’ changed her tune swiftly. For the small price of a white lie, she was granted access to a large archive room, a sturdy table, and a cushioned seat in the secluded section of the library. Once she was left alone to her devices, Agatha spoke to one such device. 

 

“Let’s get to work. Gerald Price. Anagrams of his name, possible aliases, the works.” She said, watching her little book float off into the cosmos of the written word like a black hole. “He’s bound to have covered his tracks well.” Wanzewan gave what could only be described as a grunt that echoed between thought and form before disappearing into the shelf. 

 

As she had expected, they kept far more thorough records at the county library. Every yearbook from every year, from every school in the district. Property deeds turned up no results, and news clips had nothing to say on Gerald Price. Over two hours into the search, something shimmered in the black reaches of the shelves. Wanzewan read, 

 

PRICE

 

GERALD

 

HONORS HISTORY

 

CLASS OF 1971

 

MIDWICH HIGH SCHOOL

 

Wanzewan. Bring me that book. 

 

It was belched from a far off shelf, twirling at first before slowing above the table. It descended gently, and Agatha snatched it before it could settle. The pages flew rapidly before resting on a staff pictures page. Price… Price…

 

In crisp black and white, Agatha saw a familiar face. It was not her father’s. This face meant more questions, more implications, and a rather complicated lead. If she wasn’t mistaken, this was the face of Mr. Pendrake, the family friend of her father’s.

 

The woman at the front desk would have to close that night still wondering what happened to the girl in the backroom, and with strange difficulties recollecting anything about her. Agatha was well on her way home by the time she heard the high pitched Be-beep Be-beep Be-beep Be-beep crying out from her book bag. Must be past 5 already, I better hurry it up, she thought. 05:21 PM, her wristwatch confirmed. 

 

The remainder of her trip home would be downhill. It was possible to get home in less than 15 minutes without using a payphone, she determined. She weaved in and out of rush hour traffic, losing a little time at the crosswalk before the expressway. She began the last upward climb of the trip, and the sunset was blinding her by the time she reached the top. The familiar sensation of eyes on her washed over her whole body before rapidly crossing over her legs, arms, and torso, then settling on her face. She knew the shape.

 

This person’s been looking for me?

Oh no.

 

Crossing the street to eclipse the sun from her eyes came a familiar boyish form. He held a soda can in his left hand, his right holding out a hand to stop her. Agatha had no intention of playing coy.

“I don’t have time for this, Erik! I need to get home right now.”

 

Erik held his small arms out as wide as he could, can in hand, and said, “Please, just hear me out. Just for a moment.”

 

Agatha scowled and brought her foot above the pedal, and it came down hard. Before Erik could react, she had blown right past his left arm, and started cycling down hill towards home. She could hear the poor boy's feet pounding pavement in a rush to catch up, and refrained from pumping the brakes just to outpace him. 

 

“If you don’t listen I’ll- I’ll tell everyone- what i saw!” Erik managed to cough up between short breaths.

 

Agatha stumbled off the side, on her feet but still struggling to stop her bike in time. She threw her bike to the ground and marched uphill, causing him to visibly cringe in remorse. 

 

Turning her head towards Erik, she barked, “Alright fucker, all right.Make it quick. Your threat got my attention, now what the fuck did you want?!”

 

Visibly shaking, Erik put the can down on a relatively flat stretch of sidewalk. It made a tin rattling sound as he did so, and he responded by awkwardly trying to steady it. Agatha let out a very audible sigh, and he clenched his eyes shut before standing up. 

 

Erik took a deep breath, turned to Agatha who’s patience was visibly wearing thin, then turned back to the can. 

 

“Aea. Kinit. Duv.” He chanted.

A series of well practiced, though awkward hand gestures followed. The can began to rattle of its own accord, then spontaneously shot off of the sidewalk and into her house’s gutter with a loud clang!

The reality of what had just taken place hadn’t quite clicked for her. Those chants… the hand signs… Did he just cast a spell? Then her stomach dropped with all the grace of a grand piano falling down a staircase.

He turned back to Agatha, and asked softly, “What are we?”

Before she could collect her senses, what sounded like an approaching wind tunnel encapsulated Agatha's senses. Intrusive hissing and methodical babbling were all she could perceive. The voices brought images with them, as well. Scenes in intricate detail of the events she just witnessed. The boy. The magic he cast.Finally, a reminder: The promise. Fulfill The Covenant. 

When the voices had made their point, they vanished, leaving her with only a hollow ache of incredulity. The burden they bestowed upon her weighed heavy, and her anger swelled.

 

“...No. No, no no no no! God damn it, do you realize what you’ve done? You-”

 

The familiar sound of her screen door opening caused her to stop dead in her tracks, and look back. Meredith stood at the door, and gave a friendly wave to Erik. Agatha shot dagger eyes back toward him, and said “Tomorrow morning. Six. Thirty. If you’re late, forget it.” Erik barely stammered an “OK” before remembering to politely wave back at Meredith.

 

While leaning over to pick up her bike, Agatha did her best to wipe the look of sheer acrimony from her face. Pulling her head up with a bounce, she started up a grin and shouted, “Sorry I’m late! We got caught up talking. I’m gonna put my bike away, OK?”

 

Meredith gave a visible nod and retained her smile for Erik’s sake. The boy looked at the can still lodged into the gutter, pretended not to notice it, then hesitantly backed away toward his own front door. For the next 20 minutes, Meredith would tell Agatha that she was happy she was socializing, but concerned that she chose to get home instead of returning her call. That next time, she would prefer a call back instead of her rushing home. Agatha nodded along, gave the occasional “Sure” and “OK”, but she did not hear any of it. Not truly. 

 

She was too busy weighing the consequences of what she knew she’d have to do next. There were truly only two options: Enter Erik into the fold of the Covenant, or kill him.