When I promised Matias I'd get the map, I hadn't really thought it through.

Was it possible that I was too busy... showing off? Rather than thinking clearly?

There were only two ways to get the map. Asking Atticus for it was the first one.

It wasn't complicated, unless he wanted to know why I wanted it.

Matias and I had decided it would be best to keep the Dybbuk a secret, and I knew I couldn't trust my brother to keep one. He'd immediately tell Mira or Minx Morris.

The second way would be to steal the map. All well and good. But if Atticus found out the map was missing, I'd certainly have to come up with an excuse.

I was busy lying in bed wearing my sunglasses to protect myself from the morning light, when Atticus came up to me.

'Um, Rome, have you brought any kind of animal into our room?' he winced at the implication.

He didn't like accusing me of anything, given my reputation was already considerably stained for my age, contrary to his.

I also didn't like being called Rome, but Aurora did it all the time and I'd grown accustomed to it, and so Atticus mistook my tolerance for benevolence, and sometimes he used it too.

Shit.

I got up from the bed so quickly I almost tripped over my own legs, and stared at my older brother with a panicked expression, my sunglasses hanging out from one of my ears.

He must have seen the crow's feet!

'You don't look... exactly innocent,' Atticus pointed out uncomfortably.

Fucking shit.

'Are you sure Mira isn't preparing the animals for the trials?' I asked weakly. 'You startled me, that's all. You know me — if there's something strange lurking around in my bedroom other than you, I wouldn't want to sleep here anymore.'

Atticus smiled crookedly. It was so easy to lie to him — that's why I didn't want to do it. It was like he felt the need for asking questions, but would purposely drop the subject, immediately satisfied, once reassured.

'I'm sorry for not trusting you, baby bro,' he scratched his beautiful golden curls, embarrassed.

'It's just that I know you've always wanted a dog...'

'Wait!' I said, almost jumping up. 'We're we talking about dogs?'

I hoped he would blame my sudden peak of interest to my already well-established love for dogs.

Atticus looked at me, his features twisting into something ugly, which I never thought it could happen, since he looked like one of this beautiful ancient Megleni statues of heroes.

'You are so easy to beguile,' he laughed, which didn't make sense for a number of reasons.

First of all, he would never use the word 'beguile'. I was the one between us two who tried to increase his own importance by using words offer people might not know the meaning of.

Secondly, he would never talk to me like that. As a rule. He would consider it bullying, and he would never bully me. That was one of the few things in life I was sure of.

Third reason, Atticus was the one who was the easiest to trick between the two of us. I would never say it, and he might have admitted it only sometimes, but we both agreed about it.

I suddenly noticed he wasn't dressed the way he usually dressed. I hadn't paid attention before because, I mean, he was my brother, and he could do whatever he liked.

But he was wearing an elegant coat that gave him a noble look he'd never cared about having, and he was taking something out of its pockets.

"Looking for this?" he asked me, showing me the folded map I promised Matias I'd look for.

Fucking, fucking shit.

I should have seen it. Matias had told me the dybbuk would go for a nice-looking host. I thought he was just teasing me, but there had to be more.

Obviously, the demon had decided to haunt the most beautiful body in the whole school.

But it was... unconceivable. Atticus would have noticed, he would have fought the possession with everything he had.

"Surprised?" Atticus asked me, a malicious glint in his eyes, when he saw me put two and two together.

"Yes," I replied. "Honestly. I thought you would have more trouble entering him."

He winced. "I swear sometimes you don't know what you're saying..." he said.

"By the way, being in this body is extremely comfortable and easy. Especially compared to yours. It was a real pain in the neck being in your particular brand of Blood Drinker. Hurt my essence all over, like I was being electrocuted."

"I'm a Speaker," I corrected him begrudgingly. "And the electrocution thing? I was the one who was doing that, trying to get you out."

"Gee, thanks," Atticus rolled his eyes.

I didn't think it was fair. That Matias had said that we couldn't make sassy remarks or roll our eyes at demons, but, evidently, they didn't mind doing it to us.

"I'd do it again," I replied maliciously.

"But I still don't get it," I said, troubled. "He would never say yes to you."

"You're right in a way," Atticus replied. "He didn't. He didn't have to. He spent his whole life saying yes to everybody. Yes to his drunken father who beat him bloody, yes to your every whim ever since you were old enough to start talking, which was too soon, by the way. Yes to renouncing his own childhood in favour of yours."

"That's not fair," I bit back. "I never asked him that!"

But, I had to admit, I kind of did. Taking care of me didn't leave him free to pursue anything else. And I just went along with it, willingly. More than willingly, actually. Happily.

"Yes to Minx Morris when he asked him if he wanted to train as a Blood Drinker, even if he didn't want to. Yes to Aurora, even though he's not even sure he wants a girlfriend in the first place. Always yes, yes, yes. In the end, it wasn't even that he was easy to break -- he hadn't even put up defences."

"You're lying!" I screamed, careless. Who cared if somebody else heard me? Nobody could talk about Atticus like that and get away with it.

"He would never say yes to evil!" I added.

"He didn't say yes, but he didn't even say no," Atticus replied, every bit looking like his normal self. "I don't think he knows how to say no."

He got closer to me, which didn't feel creepy, because it was Atticus, but then again, I had to remind myself, it really wasn't.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"You think he's a saint," he hissed. "I'll tell you something boy. Saints have their kind of righteous fury when they're wronged. They do not lack spine the way your brother does. Trying to please everyone, who knows how you might end up. Might as well start pleasing the Devil, too."

"You talk about him like he's some kind of puppet," I said. "I won't have it!"

"And what can you do to stop me, ghastly boy? I'm not your brother right now. I'm not turning off because you push some button."

He sat next to me on my bed. I didn't know how to feel. Perhaps he wanted me to feel afraid, but I thought it had something to do with my powers. Even when I wasn't using them, souls recognized me as the door that connected them to the living world. Even souls as rotten as this one must be.

I did the only thing I could think of. I snatched the Map from his hands, and started running.

"Hey," Matias greeted me in the room where we'd agreed to meet, the one where we had run into the dybbuk in the first place.

"You look like Hell," he added.

"Thanks," I said. "No, really. When you put it like that, you make me feel much tougher than I actually feel."

He looked at me with some kind of concern in his face.

"What happened?" he said. "And why are you in your PJs?"

I got to give it to him. It wasn't easy to guess it was my PJs, but, then again, it couldn't have been anything else.

I was wearing an oversized t-shirt with some illustration on it that looked straight out of an horror novel. And my pants, well, they were more underpants than anything else. Everything was strictly black.

My sunglasses were pushing back my bed hair, or more like, trying to.

Matias looked at me almost... wistfully. Like I reminded him of someone he had lost long ago.

I stared back at him. He looked so beautiful with his training uniform. Out of all the younger Blood Drinkers, he was the one with the most lovely shaped body, scientifically speaking.

I suddenly felt myself grow hot, and wished I had something that would cover me more than what I was wearing. My long and awkward legs must have been horribly paper-white. Not to mention my big and clumsy feet.

"What happened?" he asked again, apparently oblivious that we were stealing glances at each other.

"I found the map," I said, showing it to him. "And, um, also... the dybbuk. He's inhabiting Atticus right now." I added uncomfortably.

"That just won't do," Matias decided.

"Isn't that what we were looking for?" I asked. "Bait? How is he removing him from Atticus any different than doing it when he's possessing one of us?"

"Because we still need the knowledge," he pointed out. "And honestly, have you seen the library? It might take days!"

He set his jaw. "No, we need him out of your brother as soon as possible. And then, we'll take care of him later!"

I wanted to point out that we didn't have that much time to do something not school-related, but I had to admit he was right. Not even half an hour ago I was running away from my room, trying not to scream. If Atticus found us now, nothing about my reaction would change.

"I would dress," I said, after a while. "But I'm too scared of going back."

"Well, I expect almost everyone to be awake by now," Matias said. "And, don't get offended, but I don't really want to be caught by anyone -- especially a teacher -- hidden in a room with you in your undies."

"Yeah, you're right," I had to admit. Despite knowing he was perfectly within his rights to say so, it still stung more than I thought it would. I couldn't help but wonder if things could have been worded differently, had I been more handsome.

So we decided to go back to my room. With any luck, Atticus wouldn't be there anymore. But maybe it was worse imagining him walking around the school. Especially if he actually talked to people and told them all the lies he said to me. Atticus had a beautiful life, and the dybbuk wanted to screw everything up.

"You seem distressed," Matias said at one point.

"I am," I said. "A dybbuk just possessed my older brother. And only because I summoned him in the first place. It's all my fault."

But it wasn't just about that. The things the demon had told me about my brother still hurt me. I wondered if there was some truth in it.

It looked like Matias knew that I was thinking about something I hadn't shared with him, but he didn't press me.

I dressed up rather soberly (I wasn't in the mood for anything that could catch anybody's attention), while Matias waited patiently outside the door. It took me a while, because my fingers were still clumsy when it came to nod my shoelaces, and I always had trouble wearing my clothes without getting my arms twisted up wrongly, or my trousers backwards at the first try. The fact that Matias was waiting, did nothing to calm my nerves. If anything, I could have stormed out naked just to avoid trying to fit in anything that felt bothersome to me.

When I finally walked out of the room, I felt someone hitting me on my head. I turned around -- I hadn't blacked out, thankfully -- to find Atticus, already holding Matias hostage.

"I hate you, you know," I complained.

He flinched. It was probably a demon trick, to show me how my statement would make Atticus suffer, and it was a low blow. I tried not to let it get to me.

In the few seconds it took me to recover, Matias had already bitten Atticus' hand. I realized he had to do it, because he was keeping his mouth closed, but it still seemed a pretty nasty scene to me.

"Let's run!" Matias told me, while Atticus was still trying to find his balance. Or rather, I believe the dybbuk was trying to find his balance inside Atticus.

When we noticed Atticus wasn't pursuing us, Matias smiled at me.

"I'm a genius!" he said.

"You're a monster," I said, perhaps harsher than I meant to. "You fucking bit my brother's hand! When Atticus goes back to being himself, the wound better not be infected!"

Matias looked at me with something that resembled loathing. It suited him, in a way I didn't think possible.

"I'm not some kind of stray dog," he said.

"That's not what I meant," I said, even though it was kind of what I was getting at.

"No wonder you have no friends," he stated, matter-of-factly. "But that's okay," he added, more relaxed. "It's perfectly fine for me to be the only one who's going to support you in your crazy ventures."

I shook my head no, even though it looked more like I was shrugging. The truth was, I didn't know what to make of it.

"Where are we?" I asked instead. While we were running away, I feared we found ourselves roaming in an area of the school I hadn't seen before.

"Don't know," Matias said. "But it might be cool to find out."

We were in a hallway, with many different rooms on each side. If I had to take a guess, I'd assume they were full of stuff that Blood Drinkers needed for training, or things Mira and Minx needed to teach. But Matias looked like he wanted to find it out himself.

He kicked open -- lightly -- a door. I guessed he chose it randomly.

I was right, in a way. It was full of stuff. But everything looked ancient, and powerful, and so fucking magical at the same time. For instance, there was a big showcase full of gemstones.

"We just studied those," Matias reminded me, looking at the stones in wonder. "Each one has a special power, when used by a Blood Drinker or on a Blood Drinker. Granted, we're not Blood Drinkers yet, but..."

I could see in his eyes all the adventures he thought he was going to have in the near future. It was never easy to forget, once someone spent time with Matias, that he had been raised for this life since birth. Who knew all the things he'd already done, all the stuff he'd already seen. The school was just a formality.

I heard some steps behind us and I froze. Atticus had found us.

He must have decided playtime was over or something, because he jumped on Matias and I and we collapsed back, destroying the showcase with the weight of our bodies.

"Do something!" I started pleading Matias. "Make him go away like you did last time!"

"I can't!" he replied. "You were trying to push him out, too. It won't work if Atticus, the real Atticus, doesn't co-operate with us!"

"Okay", I said. "So what can we do?"

"You're the Speaker," Matias said, trying to avoid getting punched from Atticus in the face. "Do some Speaker thing!"

There was no time to summon the Spirits officially -- I had to think of something more immediate.

Then, I remembered a Blood Spell Minx had taught me once. Just for emergencies, of course. Blood Spells required the blood of the Speaker, and Mira didn't want me go around bleeding to death just to show everybody how powerful I was (I might have mentioned I was going to do that.)

But desperate times called for drastic measures, so I cut my hand on the glass that had exploded behind us, and started muttering frantically a counter curse, my hands plastered on Atticus' face.

It was in old Caedish, and it said something along the lines of 'Please leave the cursed person and don't hurt them anymore.'

I hoped my pronunciation would be fine.

Atticus stopped fighting. He passed out briefly, which I hoped meant that he was healing.

I took a look at the gemstones that had fallen to the floor. I picked carefully a topaz.

"I think you should have it," I told Matias. "Nobody was going to use them anyway. Who knows, it might come in handy someday."

He looked too stunned for words. Then he picked something up. It was a sapphire.

I looked at him quizzically.

"It's for you," he handed it over to me. "It seems only right that you should own one too."

I was about to say I doubted their powers worked for a Speaker, but I didn't. I realized it was the thought that counted.

"Thanks," I said.

We looked at each other, half scared to death, half embarrassed, and half something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

We heard somebody coughing.

"You guys better explain what I'm doing here," Atticus said, but he was beaming, which meant he was back to his usual self. I supposed he was happy I was with a friend.

"You were possessed," I said curtly. "And don't worry about your face being caked with blood -- it's not yours, it's mine."

He looked at my hands.

"I need to get you healed," he said. "Let's go back to our room. Obviously, I won't tell on you guys. Whatever you just did, you saved my life."

I shivered, thinking that the dybbuk was still around, invisible. If Atticus knew it, he might change his mind about telling on us.

When Atticus and I were back in our room I asked him a question that had been bothering me, being familiar with the concept of possessions, at least, scholastically.

"Are you sure you don't remember anything?"

"Positive," he replied, slightly annoyed. I had never seen his green eyes look so sad, dark and unnerved.

I realized that he knew how to lie much better than I had given him credit for.