Broken Princess

Home > Fantasy > Broken Princess > Page 10
Broken Princess Page 10

by Skye MacKinnon


  I stumble backwards and fall into the wheelchair. For how long have I looked this way? Only since the failed ascension? Or longer? Is that why the three men gave me food? To try and make me look less starved and dead?

  I'm not a vain person, not at all. But I have dignity, and the woman in the mirror doesn't look dignified. She doesn't even look human.

  "Are you done?" Andrew calls from outside, but I can't answer. There's a lump in my throat that's forecasting more tears. I just want to go to bed, curl up and cry.

  Of course, I rarely get what I want. I knock against the door and let Andrew wheel me back to my room. The others are waiting there for us. They've brought some chairs and a low table that's covered in files and paper. And tea, four large mugs.

  Andrew helps me back into bed. I think he makes sure to touch me as little as possible, but right now, I don't care. The image of my own dead eyes flashes through my mind whenever I blink. This is what they see when they look at me. Not the Laya I am inside. The frail Laya I'm on the outside. I need to change that. I don't want to look as weak as I feel.

  When I'm seated comfortably, Andrew holds out his hand. There's four pills on it, three round ones and one long one with what looks like tiny pearls inside.

  "Vitamins," he explains. "You're malnourished."

  I shake my head. "I don't take man-made medicine like that."

  "It's the same stuff you find in fruit and vegetables," he says calmly. "Just concentrated to make it easier to get a large amount of it. If you'd prefer to eat at least ten apples a day, go ahead."

  "If you take them, I'll make brownies," Leek suggests with a grin.

  "What?"

  He smiles. "You were holding one when we came to the hospital. I assumed you liked them?"

  I shrug. "I think so, it's a long time since I've had cake."

  "Good." Leek winks at me and points at the vitamin pills. "Do we have a deal?"

  If I relax this one rule, it will be easy to relax other ones as well. I'll become a sinner, just like Andros always told me. I need to stay strong. One step towards sin can set you on a road you can't leave. But... brownies. And Andrew said that it's basically like eating lots of apples. I'd rather eat brownies than apples. Both are good, both are sweet, but after smelling that chocolatey scent yesterday...

  I take the pills and swallow them. I'm a sinner already, and right now, I'm in an environment bursting with sin. I will have to adapt to survive, or I'll never be able to return to my home. It's just until the others are released and we can go back to our life of prayer and devotion.

  "Can I have a statue of the Angel?" I blurt out before I can stop myself. All three of them look at me strangely.

  "I think they confiscated a lot of people's belongings in the compound, but I'll see what I can do," Quentin promises after a long pause, and begins to type something into his phone. Mobiles have changed a lot since I left society. His is big and shiny, with a large screen and almost no buttons. At the beginning, I missed technology, especially my trusted laptop, but I got used to it pretty quickly. We didn't communicate with people outside of our group, so we didn't have use for phones and the such.

  "Thank you." Leek hands me a mug, the only one where the tea is dark brown rather than milky. I take a sip and almost burn my tongue. I giggle. Somehow, I'm getting hurt in all sorts of new ways today.

  "So, what's going on?" Andrews asks Quentin. "Did they catch them?"

  "No, but you were right, they tried to get into the hospital. One of our officers almost caught them, but they got away before reinforcements arrived. But there's some bad news." He shoots me a cautious glance, as if to assess whether I'll be able to handle it.

  "Maybe start from the beginning," Leek suggests.

  Quentin nods. "Yes, I'm allowed to do that now. Laya, when you joined Andros and the others, did he make you sign something? A contract, perhaps?"

  I think back to when we first moved to the village. It's so long ago now, but I dimly remember how we all signed a sheet of paper. "Yes, to promise that we'd give up all our worldly belongings and fully concentrate on our new life in servitude to the Angel."

  He nods again and rummages on the table until he finds a sheet of paper. "This one?" He hands it to me and I skim it.

  "Yes, I think so."

  He sighs softly. "I'm not quite sure how to start. When Andros founded the Angel's flock, he set it up as a company. Not as a charity, which would have made sense, but as a business. There's a clause in the contract you all signed that states that if you die, all your money and everything you still own will pass over to him. Which means that if all sixty people die, he gets a shitload of money. Not just him, the entire company."

  I shake my head in confusion. This can't be true, this isn't real. They're trying to turn me away from Andros and the light. "No, that doesn't make sense. He was going to ascend as well, so what use would that money be?"

  Quentin's expression softens even further. "We're not sure if he was ever going to join you in death," he tells me and my world shatters.

  19

  "But he's the Prophet! He was going to lead us into Paradise! He's the one who's been talking to the Angel, who's been guided by the divine. Andros was going to ascend, trust me."

  They don't look convinced, but also don't seem to argue with me.

  "Even if he was going to join you," Quentin continues, "there are other people involved. The business he founded is shady, and there are loans he took to have the money to build your compound. If he dies as well, that money will go to those people, so now they’re very interested in getting rid of everyone involved, including you.”

  “Me? But I didn’t even have much money! A few hundred in the bank, but nothing that would warrant anyone wanting to kill me!” I run my hands over my shorn scalp, feeling the soft hair that’s growing there again.

  “You don’t know?” Leek asks, confusion all over his face. “Didn’t he tell you?”

  “Tell me what?” By now I’m exasperated and tears are threatening to flow again. Everything is spiralling out of control and the ground beneath my feet is disintegrating. I’m about to fall, and once I do, there’s nothing to catch me.

  “Your mother died a year ago and left you a substantial amount. I’m so sorry, Laya.”

  I just stare at him, my mind trying to catch up unsuccessfully. “Money? My mum? She never had any money.”

  Quentin grimaces. “She wrote a book after you joined Andros. ‘My Daughter, the Cultist’. It became quite successful. It’s ironic how that book money is now endangering you.”

  “Wait, but there must be some kind of law that means they can’t get the money if I’m murdered?”

  “Not if they aren’t officially involved. And so far, they seem to try and make it look like suicides.”

  A shiver runs over my skin when I realise what that means. “So far? Someone’s died?”

  “It’s not clear yet whether it was murder or suicide-“

  “Who?” I interrupt.

  “Eamon and his wife. Eamon was the one with the biggest wealth, so it would make sense-“

  “He was the Prophet’s second in command,” I interrupt again. “Of course he’d choose ascension. He’s a role model for all of us. We should all be following his example.”

  Quentin shoots me a sharp look. “You’re not thinking of doing that, are you?”

  I avert my eyes. Am I? Do I still want to ascend? In a way, I want to be with the Angel. This new world is scary and frightening, and I don’t think I’ll ever fit in. If I still had the community, it would be different. We could continue to live as before, striving for the perfect devoted life. But here, in the outside world, it’s so hard to stick to the rules. I’d rather ascend now than become a sinner and forego any chance of ever joining the Angel in Paradise.

  “I’m putting you on suicide watch,” Quentin announces when I don’t reply. “One of us will be with you at all times. I’m sorry to have to do that, but we’re here to protect you, both
from others and from yourself.”

  “I wouldn’t do it,” I protest feebly, but I think we both know that’s a lie. Ascension seems more and more like the only solution. With Andros in prison, I might be able to spend a few years, decades even, in Paradise without him. I could be happy. I feel my lips twitch into a smile when I think of the Angel’s light.

  “Leek, find a bed that’ll fit into this room. We’ll take shifts.”

  “You can’t do that,” I protest, “I’ve got rights.”

  “It’s for your own good,” Andrew tries to explain, but I cut him off.

  “I know what’s best for me. You’re just trying to control me. How is that any different from Andros? At least there I had the Angel and our prayers. Here I have nothing, only chaos.”

  “Is that why you joined? To have structure rather than chaos?” Leek asks calmly.

  “Are you the therapist now?” I shoot back, getting angrier by the minute. “Get out.”

  I have no idea from where I take the courage to talk to them like that, but it feels good. They can’t tell me what to do. They’re not acting on behalf of the Angel. I follow his rules, gladly, but these men’s words don’t matter. Nothing in this world matters.

  “One of us will have to stay,” Leek says, almost sadly. “Who would you prefer?”

  I put my still full mug on the bedside table and turn in the bed until I’m facing away from them. I don’t want any of them here. I just want to be alone.

  “I’ll stay,” Andrew says in his soft, careful voice. “In case there’s any medical problems.”

  Chairs are being pushed back and two pairs of footsteps head towards the door. “I’ll find a bed,” Leek promises from afar. I don’t want him to, but it seems like I don’t have a voice in any of this. They just do what they want, all under the guise of protecting me.

  “Are you feeling alright? Any pain?” Andrew asks but I ignore him. Strangely enough, there’s no pain at all. I don’t think I’ve ever been pain-free, at least it feels that way. I’m still weak, but he’s said that I will grow stronger soon once the last of the poison has left my body.

  Their words are echoing around my head. Money. Contracts. People wanting to kill us. Me. My mum, dead. My sweet, crazy mother. Andros told me about my father dying in a car accident, but why didn’t he mention my mum? Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe nobody told him.

  “How did she die?” I whisper, hoping that he’ll know what I mean.

  “An aneurism. It was quick, probably painless. I think your aunt tried to contact the cult, but nobody ever got back to her. I think she’d probably be glad to hear from you. She’s been part of the police investigation after your mother died.”

  “What? Why would she be involved?”

  “When nobody answered her letters, she drove to the compound. She never got into the village, she was stopped before she got there. She did see more than she should have, though. Outside the village, close to where she parked her car, she saw Andros and a woman. That villager wasn’t there voluntarily. He was hitting her and doing much worse. Your aunt drove off and informed the police. She was scared that it hadn’t just been an isolated incident, that all of the women were treated that way.”

  He pauses for a moment, but I don’t say anything.

  “Do you want her to visit? I could arrange for her to come here, if you want. It might be nice for you to see a familiar face.”

  I try and remember my aunt. I never knew her that well. My mum’s sister had been a bit of a hippie, always travelling to distant places. The last time I saw her must have been several years before I even met Andros. Ten years ago, probably. I don’t think I’d call her a familiar face.

  “No, thanks.”

  Don’t get attached to people outside of the community. That’s why we settled so far away from other villages and towns. Less temptation to mingle with non-believers.

  “That’s fine. Let me know when you change your mind.”

  He falls silent again and leaves me to my thoughts. I almost wish he didn’t. My mind is chaos and I feel like I’m being torn apart in different directions. I’m at a fork in the road, but it’s not me who chooses where to turn. It’s other people choosing for me, and I’m hating it. If they pull any more, I’m going to rip apart.

  I need to find control over my life again. I need to make them stop choosing for me.

  20

  My night is restless. I’ve slept too much the day before, and the presence of Andrew in the room is making me uncomfortable. I can hear him breathe, and I know he’s awake. I can tell apart the breathing rhythm of someone who’s asleep and someone who isn’t. I’m not sure he knows that I’m not sleeping either, but he doesn’t say anything.

  I stare at the ceiling for most of the night, trying to sleep but at the same trying not to. I’m afraid of the nightmares lurking in the shadows.

  Because there are no windows, I’m relying on someone to come and tell me that it’s morning. There’s no clock anywhere, and I don’t own a watch. I’m used to waking up when the sun rises, or when the morning bell rings on the rare occasions that I don’t wake by myself. Here, I have neither.

  At some point, I can’t stifle my impatience any longer.

  “What time is it?” I ask into the darkness.

  A light flashes for a moment, then Andrew yawns loudly. “Five in the morning. Can’t sleep?”

  “You’re not sleeping either,” I counter and he chuckles.

  “I’m not supposed to. Shall I switch on the light?”

  I nod before I realise he can’t see it. “Yes, please.”

  He gets up from his bed and walks to the door. I squeeze my eyes shut when he switches on the light, but it’s better than the darkness.

  “What shall we do?” He smiles at me. “I’m pretty sure the others are still sleeping. Leek especially, he likes to sleep in.”

  “You could leave?” I suggest and his smile widens.

  “Not happening, but you know that. Not until Quentin tells us that it’s fine. He’s the expert.”

  “Is he the one in charge?”

  He nods. “Yeah, he’s the most senior in the team. When it comes to medical matters, they usually let me make the decisions, but he’s the one reporting to our superiors. He actually likes doing paperwork, so I don’t have a problem with that.” He shrugs light-heartedly. “I think he missed doing it while we were undercover. If we’d stayed longer, he would have probably asked if he could help out in the office.”

  “How long were you planning to stay?”

  “As long as it took to gather enough evidence. It was hard though, seeing how everyone’s medical needs were so blatantly ignored. When that woman died in childbirth, that was the moment I was closest to calling in the cavalry and getting you all out of there. It was negligence that killed her and her baby. I’m not sure I could have saved them, but proper medical care could have probably prevented it from happening in the first place. Anyway, soon after, we heard more about ascension and the decision was made that we’d stay and observe some more, rather than intervene immediately.”

  He sighs deeply. “I’ve been undercover before, but I’ve never seen anything like it. The way you were treated, the way Andros hurt you every night… Any other situation and we’d have got you out of there on day one, but we needed to weigh up the needs of the individual against the needs of the entire community.”

  He looks pained as he says it, as if he didn’t agree when that decision was made. “We probably shouldn’t have sent you messages, it could have exposed us, but after the first you had that spark in your eyes, for the first time since we’d arrived. I think it was hope.”

  The roll with the hidden message. You’ll be safe soon, that’s what it said. It made my ankle hurt, but I remember the feeling of warmth that spread through my stomach at the thought of someone looking out for me. In retrospective, it all makes sense. They weren’t allowed to help me in other ways, so they tried to keep up my hope. I guess it worked, in
a way.

  “Thank you,” I mutter, hoping that he’ll understand what I mean.

  “I’m just glad you never showed them to Andros. We were worried, at the beginning, because we didn’t know how close the two of you were. But after he made you run across the square naked, it was pretty clear that he was mistreating you.”

  “Let’s not talk about that.”

  “Okay.” He smiles at me. “But if you ever want to talk, I’m here. I’ll always listen.”

  * * *

  We stay in silence after that, but it’s a comfortable silence now. I actually manage to fall asleep for a bit, until Leek comes in with a large tray, followed by Quentin.

  “Breakfast,” he calls cheerily, balancing the tray until Andrew makes space on his bed for it. The table from yesterday has disappeared to make space for the camping bed. “I made scones. I don’t have clotted cream, but I guess butter and jam will do.”

  Andrew snickers. “You know the rest of us will never cook again, now that we know how good you are at it.”

  “Baking isn’t cooking,” Leek laughs. “Just because I can make dough doesn’t mean that I have any idea how the hob works. I can just about figure out the knobs on the oven. At least this kitchen isn’t as complicated as the last one.”

  I peek up. “You don’t actually live here?”

  “Here?” Quentin laughs. “No, this is just a safe house used for witness protection. We’ve stayed in a few of those, and this is one of the better ones. Usually it’s men we protect, but you’re a special case. Oh, that reminds me, our boss asked whether you would like her to assign a female agent to our team?”

  Another person to spy on me? No thanks. I shake my head and grab one of the scones to avoid having to answer. Leek has put a thick layer of butter on it, covered in a just as thick dollop of strawberry jam. I think one of them will be enough to keep me full all day.

 

‹ Prev