Dark Descent: The Arondight Codex - Book One by R Nicole (best books to read all time TXT) 📗

Wilder stepped forward and gestured for me to follow him from the library. Putting my head down, I stared at my feet as I left the room, humiliation colouring my cheeks an awful shade of crimson. It felt like I was doing the walk of shame right through the Sanctum and everyone was pointing and staring, laughing at how desperate I’d been.

“No hard feelings, Purples,” Wilder said. “Not everyone is cut out to fight the demonic scourge. You just don’t have the chops.”

“Did they have to be so cold about it?” I asked, fighting back tears.

“Tact isn’t their strong suit.”

He led me through a part of the Sanctum I’d never seen before. Dark, abandoned, and cold. It wasn’t until he opened a door that I realised I was being tossed out the back entrance where no one could see me. I didn’t know if I should be offended or relieved.

“Go out here, turn right, then you’ll see the Thames,” he said. “Bye, Purples.”

I stepped outside, the icy winter night cutting right through me. Before I could turn around, the door slammed closed, causing me to flinch. The sound echoed around the cold, dark street, one hell of a punctuation mark on my failed life.

If I couldn’t be plain Scarlett Ravenwood or a Natural, then who was I meant to be? Turning right, I walked down the street, my extremities as numb as my heart. The Thames came into sight and I almost felt like throwing myself in. Almost.

I wandered through Battersea, then across the river, lost and alone. I felt an existential crisis coming on and there was nothing I could do about it. Other than come to terms with my mediocrity.

Stopping by the Tate Britain museum, I sat on the steps and shivered, shoving my hands into my pockets. My breath came out in white plumes, vaporising in the chilly air. My fingers curled around the troll doll and I sank into my depression like I was wriggling in a pit of quicksand.

Taking it out, I stared at its ironic little face and scowled. Its purple hair was all messed up and I combed my fingers through it, fashioning the tuft into a point. It wasn’t of any use anymore—Wilder had taken the spell off it—and all that remained was the reminder of the first time I felt truly special… until it was taken away.

C’mon, Scarlett, I thought to myself, it isn’t like you to throw a pity party. Get up, you sad sack. Get up and move forward.

With a heavy heart, I set the troll doll down on the step beside me. Standing, I smoothed down my jacket, straightened my jumper, then went home.

What else was a girl to do?

11

I sat on a chair in the middle of the packed O2 arena in Greenwich, London, a scowl permanently etched on my face.

Playing absently with the lanyard around my neck, I watched as an advertisement for a game company Blizzard Entertainment flashed on the big screen. Men and dwarves in suits of armour, elves with impossibly long pointy ears, and gnomish creatures wearing goggles fought against one another, summoning all kinds of computer-generated magic. It only soured my mood further.

You just don’t have the chops. What? I didn’t make the cut simply because I cared about my friends? What a steaming pile of—

“Scarlett! There you are.”

I glanced up—my arse numb from the plastic seat—and forced a smile for Jackson as he appeared through the crowd. I never knew how… populated these things were. It wasn’t just a row of computers and PS4s lined up along a wall. No, it was a full-on stadium packed with the latest bells and whistles. Exhibits and stalls from all the big gaming companies, testing areas where you could go and play the latest pre-release titles in beta mode, areas where you could meet the developers, and there were even cosplay competitions. The big draw card was the tournaments, which played out on the main stage with MC commentary and post-game interviews. It was an eye-opener, for sure.

“I’m in the finals!” he declared.

“What?” I exclaimed. “That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, I’m up against Zero Remorse, so the odds of me winning are slim. He’s like the best in the world.”

“Wait… the guy’s name is Zero Remorse?” I snorted and stifled a laugh. “Are you serious?”

“That’s his gamer tag,” Jackson retorted, rolling his eyes.

“Couldn’t he think of anything less… dorky?”

“Scarlett!”

“Okay, okay.” I waved him off. “What’s the prize this time?”

“First place is a million pounds and a sponsorship deal, and the runner up gets a hundred thousand pounds.”

My mouth fell open, but not before I almost choked on my tongue. “A million pounds? Holy shite!”

“Either way, it’s a guaranteed one hundred k!” He rubbed his hands together. “So when do you want to go?”

“Go where?” I frowned.

“To Aruba.”

“Oh…” I trailed off and shook the cobwebs out of my brain.

In the two weeks since my utter humiliation at the hands of the Naturals, I’d been walking around in a daze. Most of it was my struggle not to fall into a shame spiral, and as a result, I’d been the worst friend in history. Total self-absorption, forgetfulness, that sort of thing. Jackson had been busy preparing for today’s tournament, so he hadn’t noticed most of what was going on, and the things he did, he’d put down to my adjusting to life without medication to control my mood.

Wilder was right about that part—I’d been using the excuse of going back on my meds as a snide tactic to worm my way into the Sanctum. I hadn’t consciously realised I’d been doing it, but a part of me must have. I didn’t want to earn my ‘chops’ with manipulation.

Jackson looked so happy, and he should be. He was one match away from changing his life forever. I should be right there with him, not sulking on the sidelines.

“Where is Aruba?” I asked.

“The Caribbean,” Jackson replied. “How cool is that? Envision white sandy beaches, blue