Messages Between Worlds
Chapter Twenty-One
MESSAGES BETWEEN WORLDS
Ceri
C eri had returned to the toilets with a pen she’d found and another candle. There were a few others awake in the dining hall, but as it was still the middle of the night, none of them bothered to check on the princess with apparently serious digestive troubles.
She couldn’t believe she had been so bold as to ask him outright if he’d meant what he’d written. It seemed there was little point in denying that she’d read it. From his own words, he could see that the pages had been removed. It seemed like the journal was in the same state between both worlds.
Perhaps she could have played dumb and avoided mentioning the issue altogether. Perhaps she should have.
It was too late now.
She waited on Leo’s reply with bated breath.
First of all, thank you for finding the journal and being so kind as to think of removing things of a more personal nature. I suspect that if you hadn’t, the entire thing would have been read in an effort to find me, and that would have been quite humiliating.
It seems as though I’m no longer in the same world that you’re in. If you’ve read this latest entry, you’ll know that there are things both familiar and unfamiliar about where I am. However, I don’t appear to be in any immediate danger, which I hope will be a relief to any of those looking for me or who are concerned with my welfare.
I believe you must let the others know about the journal. I will do what I can where I am to find a way to return to where you are, but I’m certain we’ll have more success if more people are able to assist in the research. From what I recall, some of the entrepreneurs have been through something of a similar experience. I had hoped to ask them about it in more detail, and perhaps I’ll still do so when we are reunited.
He was in good spirits, at least. Ceri couldn’t help but notice that he’d avoided her questions though.
There was a long pause before he began writing again.
As to whether I meant what I wrote: I am a researcher. I record in this journal observations, and I’m not in the habit of lying about what I’ve observed. There would be little point in doing so.
Another torturous pause. Ceri gripped the journal in her hands so hard her wrists began to hurt from the tension.
I don’t know how much you were able to read about LBB. I know I scratched out much of it. But what I wrote about LBB—what I wrote about you—I meant it. It was true.
Ceri’s chest was tight from holding her breath. She scratched her response in a single word:
Good.
And then she thought of one more thing she needed to know:
LBB?
Lovely beyond belief.
It had been the answer she was hoping for, and also the one she had dreaded. She had come here to start over after a disastrous summer that was truly just the cherry on top of several awful years. She had wanted to change for the better, to focus on her studies and on being a better person and friend. The year had only just begun, and already she was off course.
Wasn’t she?
Things had gone very well in her first week of classes. Her first assignments in Loegrian and Numbers had just come back with top marks, although they were more to see what everyone knew coming into the course than anything else. She had made at least one friend (if you didn’t count Leo). She hadn’t lied to Ana, not except by way of omission in order to spare her feelings, which felt like the right thing to do. And even if it wasn’t, she was trying to do the right thing, at least.
She had helped with the research. Leo wasn’t the only one who had been impressed with her ability to do so. She had cut back her time in the laboratory since classes began, but she’d gone there at least once a day and spent a couple of hours helping set up experiments or running numbers afterwards.
Isn’t that exactly what she hoped to achieve?
She hadn’t lied to Leo, either. Well, not after their first encounter, at least. She hadn’t tried to manipulate him or guilt him into spending time with her. In fact, it seemed as though his initial feelings for her may have exceeded her own. Or at least they’d exceeded the ones she had been willing to acknowledge.
The truth was, she was scared. It wasn’t something she would have confessed to Leo in person, but she doubted any of what they’d just shared would have been shared in person. Perhaps eventually, but likely not for a long time.
There was something freeing about the journal. There was something freeing about the college.
There was something freeing about Leo.
I wanted to say something to you, but I was afraid. I am still afraid. I have been hurt before. And I have done the hurting. And most of it—all of it—was my fault. I’m not a good person, Leo. I pretended to be selfish and cruel because those are the traits my father values. I pretended for so long I became them.
I am a liar. I am manipulative. I am vain. I am petty.
I am trying to be better.
The things you said about me. You meant them, but they aren’t true. But I want them to be. I want to be the person you see me as.
And I want to get to know you too. You’re brilliant and funny and you are just—
Was she bold enough to say it? Here, crouched in the dark in the toilets alone, writing by candlelight?
—so ludicrously gorgeous. It’s unfair.
I will do whatever it takes to get you back here.
I still need to try that tea coffee of yours. I am convinced it will be awful, but I must find out for myself.
She had done it. She had put herself out there for him to take or leave. There were no lies in what she wrote. No trickery or malice. No desire to trap him into a confession for the sake of mockery.
She didn’t know if she could do this.
But she wanted to try.
Ceri, I am speechless. Wordless? Is there a Loegrian word for not knowing what to write?
We all have a past. I am not certain if I believe your interpretation of your own. Often, we are our own worst critics. But either way, it does not concern me. From what I know of you, all I know is that I want to know more. Your past, your present, your future. The good and the bad. Whoever you are and will be.
I hope we will have that chance once I return.
P.S. It is simply insane that you, of all people, would call me “ludicrously gorgeous.” If I am so to you, I’m certain it’s only because you are lucky enough to see me through perhaps the most beautiful eyes in existence.
P.P.S. Tea coffee is divine.
Ceri knew she should probably leave it at that for the night. It was very late, or perhaps very early. The candle was nearly out, and she was exhausted.
And she probably would have, but she realized there were a few more things she should tell him, for the sake of his safety.
Do you have the ring with you that you took from Idris’s office? Idris said it’s extremely dangerous, especially with your other objects. I’m assuming they’re with you. Idris’s friends went through some kind of ordeal tonight that seemed to be connected to them or possibly to something in the college. I’m not sure if it would be the same where you are, but you might want to store the objects if you can, separately, just in case.
It was a long time before Ceri received a response, so long that Ceri worried the candle would burn out.
Funny you should say that. Whatever it is, it’s here.
I’m hiding in the toilets.
Tear these pages out and keep them in case they’re of use. But please, tell the others about the journal.
Please, I need hel—
The writing stopped right there.