Lost Horizon

by Michelle Hercules

  My room is around the corner, but when I catch a glimpse of Darius exiting a door up ahead, I change course. I must clear the air between us. Thanks to the softness of the carpet, my quick steps are muffled. Darius doesn’t sense my approach until I’m close enough to grab his arm.

  “Darius, wait.”

  He seems startled for a moment. His eyes are almost guilty. The emotion is fleeting and quickly replaced by coldness. “Yes, Dorothy?”

  “I need to speak with you. Can we go somewhere more private?”

  I throw a glance at the nearest guard. He’s not looking in our direction, but I know he’s listening to our conversation with keen attention.

  “Whatever for? Is the accommodation my cousin provided not to your liking?”

  I’m tempted to reply with an angry retort, but that would defeat the purpose of why I want to talk to him in the first place.

  “My room is fine. Toto has made himself quite at home. Please, Darius. I really need to have a word with you. It’s important.”

  My hand is still clamped around his arm as I stare right into his eyes, trying to convey my plea. A few seconds pass before his gaze softens, and he lets out a soft sigh.

  “Okay. We can talk in my room.”

  He peers down at my hand on his arm.

  Embarrassed, I quickly withdraw. “Sorry.”

  He pivots around and resumes his brisk walking. I match his tempo so I can follow by his side, giving him glances when I don’t think he’ll notice. I wish I could read his mind, find out what I’d done that made him act like I was the enemy. The clench of his jaw and the hard set of his eyebrows tells me something is definitely off. I don’t know how to fix it.

  Darius finally stops in front of an intricate set of double doors. Off-white crown molding frames the lacquered green wood panels. He opens one of them, allowing me to enter first. The decor is similar to the room assigned to me. The high ceiling is decorated with more crown molding and a massive glass chandelier hangs from it. The walls are covered by wallpaper in a delicate pattern. Heavy curtains keep most of the sunlight out. The only difference between Darius’s room and mine is the furniture. Whereas mine is painted in soft mint, Darius’s is a solid dark wood.

  “What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?”

  I turn, finding him picking lint from his clothes as if he couldn’t care less that I was here. His attitude is beginning to piss me off.

  “Darius, look at me.”

  He takes a deep breath before he complies. “I’m looking at you now.”

  “Why are you angry with me?”

  His eyebrows furrow together while his eyes show a hint of confusion. “Who says I’m angry?”

  “Your attitude does. You’ve been nothing but a jerk since we left the greenhouse of horrors.”

  Darius’s expression doesn’t change. He keeps staring at me in an impassive manner, as if I’m being ridiculous. “I’m sorry if I came across a little insensitive toward you,” he finally replies. “I was simply trying to get us here in one piece.”

  “Insensitive?” I can’t stop myself from repeating his word.

  Since he’s not going to be honest with me, I might have to lead by example. I have nothing to lose, and I already made a fool of myself once. Might as well keep the streak going. “Is this about the kiss?”

  “What?” Darius’s face becomes beet red.

  I think I’m going in the right direction here.

  I step closer, feeling every beat of my heart as it speeds away. I wasn’t planning to mention the kiss. In fact, I was hoping to avoid the subject. I still don’t know how I feel about it or how I feel about the man in front of me.

  “You changed after we woke up from our poison-induced sleep. You can’t blame me for making the association.”

  “I didn’t … I mean, that’s not the reason…” He trails off when I invade his personal space.

  Dorothy, what are you doing?

  “What is the reason?”

  I stare deep into his eyes, all too conscious of the pounding in my ears. It is as if all of my blood has gone to my head. Maybe that’s why I’m acting like a lunatic.

  Remember, you’re leaving, Dorothy. Don’t lead the poor guy on.

  I ignore the pesky voice in my head. Screw you, conscience. For once, I’m letting my emotions take me wherever they may.

  Darius lifts his hand to cup my cheek while his face leans closer. Parting my mouth, I lick my bottom lip. His eyes drop to them, transfixed. But he seems unsure of whether to proceed or not.

  “Do you want to kiss me again?” I ask in a husky voice.

  “Yes.” His answer comes out as a desperate whisper.

  Rising on my tiptoes, I breach the final distance between us. When our lips brush together, sparks ignite a fire deep in my chest. The memories of our first kiss in that field of poppies is fuzzy at best, but I’m one hundred percent sure I won’t forget this time around.

  With a grunt, Darius deepens the kiss as his arms wrap around my waist. Our bodies press together, chest-to-chest, hips-to-hips. It’s hard to pinpoint what sensation excites me the most. As our tongues mingle and explore, I think how glad I am that I never indulged in dating while I was at the academy. How easy it would have been to get distracted by boys. Although, I’m not sure any of them would have made me feel this way.

  But, naturally, nothing this good lasts forever. A pesky prick on my wrist is a wake-up call to my reality, to what is at stake. I abruptly break the kiss, moving away from Darius just to be safe. My lips tingle, and my heart is still racing, but I can’t look at him right now.

  “Dorothy? Is something wrong?”

  “Yes, and no.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Tears fill my eyes, and the choke in my throat renders me speechless.

  With a loud exhale, Darius continues. “Do you want to know why I acted like a jerk after we left the greenhouse?”

  I peek at him from under my eyelashes, even if, by doing so, I’m revealing that I’m on the verge of bawling my eyes out. “Yes.”

  “I was angry because Reo tried to kill you, and you simply forgave him like it was nothing.”

  “It wasn’t his fault. He was still trapped in his nightmare.”

  “It didn’t matter to me. It still doesn’t.” Darius breaks eye contact, pushing his long bangs off his face in a brusque manner. “I came to live in the palace after my parents split up. My father was an abusive cad. He used to beat my mother every day until I was old enough to try to defend her. He then turned his ire on me. That’s when she decided to leave the bastard.”

  “Darius, I’m so sorry.”

  He glances at me with eyes that are a little redder than before. “When Reo attacked you, it triggered those old memories. And when you just forgave him, it made me feel as impotent as I’d felt as a child.”

  I can understand now why Darius was so upset. It makes sense. It also makes me question my actions. Why did I forgive Reo so quickly? Is it because I’ve developed feelings for him as well? My body certainly reacts funny when he’s around.

  “Since we’re being completely honest, I have a confession to make.” I glance down at my medical bracelet. “The medicine I take for my chronic disease is about to become useless. When it does … I’ll die.”

  I lift my gaze to his, finding him watching me without blinking. I’m not even sure if he’s breathing. The sight breaks my heart, so I drop my eyes to the floor.

  “I didn’t want to let what happened between us in that poppy field go anywhere. It’s not fair to you. Even if I didn’t have to leave Oz, I’m still living on borrowed time.”

  “No,” he blurts out.

  “No what?”

  “I won’t accept that there’s no cure for what ails you.”

  “Darius, the best doctors and scientists from my home planet haven’t come up with a cure for my disease. My only hope is that the material I collect from Mirus will help develop one.”

  �
�Then, that’s what we’ll do. We’ll get you to Mirus.” He takes a step forward, his eyes shining with hope.

  “With what? Your cousin said there aren’t starships here.”

  “That’s not exactly true.”

  My heart suddenly lurches forward. So, Reo was right after all—not that I doubted him.

  “Are you saying the prince lied to us?”

  “We have starships. The only problem is … they aren’t alive yet.”

  32

  Kevvan

  My assigned room might be luxurious, the plush pillows on the bed enticing, but the caged feeling that’s slowly creeping in beneath my skin is all I can sense. I close my eyes and breathe through my nose and mouth. A minute of it and it proves to be an ill-fated attempt to calm my nerves down.

  “Damn it, this is not working.”

  I explore the rest of my quarters, finding an expansive bathroom with a fancy bathtub and more bottles of soap than one person might need in a month. Bathing would be nice. My last experience with water wasn’t enjoyable. So, I get down to it, letting the bath fill up, and for the hell of it, I dump the contents of every single bottle I see in the water. Soon, giant bubbles begin to form, and the sweet scent of herbs and flowers fills my nose. But even as I soak in the warm, bubbly bath, I can’t relax. Suffice it to say, I just wash off the grime and jump out.

  Maybe I’m feeling restless because of what Reo said earlier. If the prince is lying to us, what does that mean? Are we in danger? I can’t simply stay put and do nothing. I have to find Dorothy. I’m sure she must already have a plan.

  But when I stick my head out in the corridor, two surly guards stationed nearby glance my way. With a groan, I shut the door again. I’m sure they won’t bother me and are only outside because this is the palace and we are at war. Or is there another reason? Regardless, their presence brings back memories of my time at the mines. We couldn’t go anywhere without eyes following us.

  The feeling that I’m trapped comes back, so I head to the window, hoping the view of outside will help me. It’s broad daylight. I get an unobstructed glimpse of the palace grounds. They don’t extend that much farther from the building, and the geometric gardens surrounding it are rather small. My father’s castle in Hell-Ion was on a strip of land so vast that it would take days to travel from one end to another on foot. Sadness swirls in my sternum. It’s rare these days for me to think of my home planet, of my life before we had to flee or perish.

  “Damn luxury,” I mutter to myself.

  I need fresh air. Checking the windows’ latches, I find them unlocked. Still, I brace for the alarm to sound when I open them. Nothing but the distant sound of the lively city beyond. I peer left and right, noticing that some of the rooms have balconies instead of windows. An idea springs in my head. Dorothy was dropped to her room before I was. If I’m not mistaken, she should be two balconies to my right.

  The wind decides to pick up in speed, singing in my ears. The sensation doesn’t scare me. On the contrary, it infuses my soul with enthusiasm. It reminds me that not every aspect of my life is horrible. I remember the time when I was truly free of my shackles—visible and invisible.

  My heart goes on overdrive, but instead of the heavy burden always squeezing my chest tight, my heart is soaring. I’d look up at the sky and let out a roar if I didn’t need to be stealthy right now.

  Focus, Kevvan. You need to find Dorothy.

  I glimpse at the nearest balcony. It’s on the same level, and the gap is nothing I can’t easily jump over. A quick look down tells me I won’t survive the fall, which only serves to motivate me more. Once upon a time, I enjoyed taking risks, living on the edge.

  Flexing my legs, I prepare to jump. The leap through the air is effortless. For a few seconds, it’s almost like I’m flying. I land on the balcony floor with a soft thud, glad I haven’t lost my feline grace. The glass doors to the room are shut and covered by curtains. I don’t have to worry about discovery in case the room is occupied.

  The next step in my journey to Dorothy is a little bit more complicated. The next room doesn’t have a balcony. It’s just like mine, possessing only two large windows. However, they have a small ledge, which should be wide enough for me to use as a propelling board to the next balcony.

  Standing on the waist-high stone wall, I take a deep breath before I make the leap. Using the momentum of the jump, I run along the narrow ledge without bothering to look down. Then, I prepare to jump again. But on the last step, my foot slips, which throws me off-balance. The minor error almost costs me dearly. I barely clear enough distance to grab on to the edge of the balcony’s wall.

  With my heart pumping fast, my accelerated pulse is the only thing I can hear beating in my ears. If dangling from a great height wasn’t enough, the wind picks up in speed, howling as if it wants to dislodge me from my holding.

  A rush of excitement runs through me despite my perilous condition. Even when my fingers begin to slide off, panic doesn’t set in. It’s a revelation that I ought to remember next time I’m ceased by paralyzing fear.

  Using my claws to stop me from losing leverage, I swing my legs back and forth until I gain enough momentum to pull myself up. I don’t land on the balcony with the same grace as before, but it beats becoming a fur pancake.

  I remain in a crouch position for a couple of beats, listening. When no sign I’ve been spotted presents itself, I stand and prepare for my final jump. This will be the hardest one. Dorothy’s room doesn’t have a balcony, and her windows are shut.

  Great, Kevvan. You really thought things through.

  There is nothing for it now. Going back would be ridiculous. I step on the edge of the railing again, calculating in my head how much power I must give to this jump. Too much and I’ll clear right off Dorothy’s ledge and plunge to my death.

  “Here goes nothing.”

  I’m airborne for a couple of seconds before I land awkwardly on the other side. My knees buckle with the impact, and as I feared, my boots slide on the smooth surface. Without anything to grip, I end up punching through Dorothy’s window. Little pieces of broken glass fly everywhere, but thanks to the wind, the noise is muffled. But if Dorothy is inside, I must have given her quite a fright.

  My fingers curl around the curtain as I fight against gravity. I hear a tear, and that sends my heart up my throat. With a hard pull, I angle my body forward and then stick my head inside the room now that the glass is gone.

  “Dorothy?”

  No response … until a low growl comes from underneath the bed.

  “Toto? Is that you, boy?”

  The robo-dog sticks his metallic head out. He lets out a bark before coming out of his hiding spot. I jump into the room, landing in a crouch and wait for him to come near. When he’s within reach, I rub the back of his ear.

  “Hello, friend. Where’s Dorothy?”

  He answers by wiggling his tail and barking twice.

  “I suppose you couldn’t tell me even if you knew. I can’t believe she left you alone.”

  As soon as the words leave my mouth, worry descends upon me. What if she didn’t leave willingly? I unfurl from my squat and search the room for signs of struggle. Nothing seems to be out of place.

  The sense of freedom and confidence I felt a moment ago vanishes as paranoia sets in. I should have known. It’s always there, hovering in the back of my mind and within easy reach. I knew things here were too good to be true. We barely encountered any resistance getting into the city. No one questioned us. Maybe that was the prince’s plan all along. To separate us and strike when we let our guard down.

  I begin to burn a hole in the plush carpet as I pace the room, not knowing what to do. My first instinct is to run away. But I can’t simply leave Dorothy behind—or that abhorrent cyborg. No. I must find her. She could be in danger.

  A thought occurs to me. If Dorothy is not here, it’s possible the hallway is free of guards. On my tiptoes, I approach the door and slowly turn the knob. I open
it a sliver, glad the hinges aren’t noisy. I don’t see anyone. Sucking my lips in, I risk sticking my head out. My suspicions are confirmed. No guards outside.

  Fighting the fear of getting caught and thrown into a dungeon cell, I step outside. Toto’s light paws on the floor tell me the robo-dog is tired of being locked in that room alone.

  “Okay, boy, you can come, but only if you promise to keep quiet.”

  Surprisingly, he simply stares at me and wags his tail.

  “Good boy.”

  Not knowing where to start my search, I rely first on my enhanced sense of smell. A couple of whiffs point me in the direction Dorothy went. Even if her scent is masked now by fancy soap, it’s impossible to miss her distinct signature.

  I keep my pace brisk until I come to an intersection. Pressing my body against the wall, I check around the corner to ascertain the coast is clear. This hallway is also empty. It doesn’t take long for me to realize Dorothy stopped by Reo’s room. Is it possible they’ve taken the cyborg as well? Or maybe she wasn’t taken at all. Doubt creeps in. There’s a chance the abduction theory is all in my head. But what if it’s not?

  The sound of a door clicking shut nearby catches my attention. On light feet, I approach the corner, careful not to make any noise. I find the prince on the intersecting hallway. He glimpses left and right in a nervous manner, almost catching me spying on him. I’m glad my cat reflexes are sharp. I stick my head out again when the sound of his footsteps begins to fade away.

  Where are you going, Prince Lennox?

  Since Dorothy’s scent is headed in the same direction the prince is going, I decide to follow him. My feline sixth sense is telling me the regent of Emerald City is hiding something.

  33

  Dorothy

  I blink a few times, having a hard time processing what Darius just told me.

  “What do you mean, they aren’t alive?”

  His eyes light up. It seems this is a subject that excites him tremendously. “It’s hard to explain. A few years ago, I had an idea for an aircraft. You see, the Raven Witch had the winged monkeys under her control, plus several airspeeds at her disposal. At the time, our military resources were scarce. We had suffered severe losses trying to free Munchkin Country from the Red Witch.”