Stark's Diary 18:  Black Widow

I was feeling empy.  My stomach was a cold black pit.   My heart did not beat.  I stood and watched him fry on the pattern, crisping and burning as he fell forward.  He did not cry out, but I knew he knew.  As he walked, life and light came back into those eyes.  Until that moment, when he collapsed forward.

Everyone studiously avoided making eye contact with me, as we climbed, our varied footsteps echoing discordantly over the pit of the pattern.  I was expected to be feeling something I suppose.  Various phrases whispered through my thoughts, "You are now leader of the Eeryiens if you choose to accept.  You are anything but Stark.  Smile, and tilt your head while you hold the anaconda.  You dream of the winds?  I don't need to sleep anymore.  Parhen."

Nothing made much sense.  Illie was around somewhere.   He did not stay to watch Random's failure. 

I giggled when I realized that I'd probably ensured I wouldn't get laid for quite sometime.  Everyone I slept with was dropping like flies.   Cecily looked up startled.  I was going to explain, but thought the better of it.

To lead or not to lead, that was the question.  Or perhaps I should see if I could fly.  I climbed up to the roof of the castle.   The shingles were rough and I had no trouble balancing.  I crouched trying to figure out what I needed to do, and listened to Cecily play Random's dirge.