by Nina Walker
My wife. Why did I keep calling her that?
It was a different me that had married her. A different time. Now, she obviously hated me, barely looking at me and recoiled from my touch. She probably didn’t see me as her husband. I was the enemy. I was the predator and she was the prey, the bird in the cage.
I didn’t even know if we were on the same side.
Just because I’d convinced my father not to execute her didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen eventually. But then again, Richard had invested so much time and money into getting the public to accept her during the alchemy trials. As far as they knew, she was still missing. She was still the beloved princess, stolen from her bedroom the night her husband was murdered.
When all of this was over, would he reintroduce us together? I tried to imagine what that would mean, but came up short. Would we become partners again? Doubtful. I shook the questions away as we stepped out onto the military base. The fresh morning air blasted my skin, smelling of ozone and smoke and rain, but I didn’t care. I breathed it in, filling my lungs to the brim, relishing in it.
As a group, we navigated along the brick buildings until we approached a massive helicopter. It was the kind that could hold a bunch of soldiers all at once. Everyone climbed inside and I quickly scrambled in after them before someone slid the door shut. I assessed the space, worry pinning me in place. How was I going to pull this off? They were strapping themselves into seats, not something I could do in my current state. What if I sat down and someone else sat on me? The chopper was being boarded by a stream of soldiers. I jumped out of their way and eventually settled into the farthest corner, sitting with my back against the wall, fingers gripping at the smooth metal wall. I’d have to hold on for dear life if this chopper did anything out of the ordinary. This had better be worth it.
My heartbeat pumped wildly in my ears as I waited, eyes lingering on Jessa, on her sadness. A minute later the chopper purred to life and we took off, cutting through the brilliant red sunrise. The machine’s vibrations soothed me and I relaxed. No, don’t let your guard down. I gripped the rose in my hand, the petals soft against my clammy fingers. What if this was a huge mistake? As far as I knew, I couldn’t go long as invisible before the magic would become too much and I’d succumb to sleep. If that happened, I would become visible and my secret would be revealed.
But … I should have been feeling the effects of that by now, and I wasn’t, not even a little bit. How much had I practiced with white alchemy over the last year? The question burned me up, bringing more curiosities to my mind.
I studied Jessa’s profile, wondering if maybe she really was telling the truth about everything that had happened to us. Had I turned against my father?
Before long, we landed in a sprawling parking lot. I heaved a sigh of relief to have made it this far and jumped out after the rest of the group. Long cracks had split fissures into the gray pavement, tall weeds growing between the divides. For early February, it was surprisingly warm out, the sun now higher in the sky and pressing down. Or maybe it was just my adrenaline kicking in that made heat rise in my cheeks. I longed to remove my jacket, knowing that was a terrible idea. I had to keep my hands as free as possible. I ignored the sweat gathering along my spine, left hand gripping the rose in my pocket harder than necessary, and trudged after Richard and Jessa.
They entered a one-story red-brick building, so old it looked like it should have been demolished decades ago. Leyland Elementary School was written in boxy script across the entrance, the Y crooked and hanging awkwardly by a single bolt. The brick had crumbled in several places and the railing that lined the steps was so rusted entire parts were missing. What was someone as regal as my father doing in a place like this?
“How many today?” Jessa’s question echoed down the steps as they disappeared behind a pair of double doors. The doors swung shut before I could follow.
I inwardly cursed and scrambled up the steps, waiting for someone new to open the door again so I could follow. I didn’t have to wait long. Faulk ascended the steps with no less than ten alchemists in her wake. I was so used to seeing her with Royal Officers that the sight of Guardians sent a shockwave through me. They were dressed in their specialized military uniforms, not just the black outfits I remembered from the palace. They had a rainbow of glittering stones embedded into their gear and helmets with shiny visors. Some had their visors pulled down, covering their faces. They looked nothing short of extraordinary and terrifying.
I followed, figuring that where Jessa and Richard had gone, Faulk would soon be joining them. I was right. We entered a large room with scuffed white tile and children’s drawings perched on the walls. From the looks of it, it had probably been the school’s cafeteria. Sitting along the edges were people grouped together. Families. West American citizens, I had no doubt. Had they taken refuge here during the attack? They huddled together, wide-eyed and afraid.
My ears buzzed as I took it all in. Richard’s voice boomed, finishing up some kind of speech that I’d hardly paid attention to. Boots echoed as Faulk marched into the room.
Jessa got to work.
I stood off to the side, both fascinated and horrified as I watched Richard’s plan unfold in front of me.
“Hold out your hand,” a guard barked, nodding toward a man in threadbare clothing. Taking heavy breaths, the man did as he was told. Knife gleaming, Faulk cut a thin line into the man’s palm. Jessa touched the blood with the tip of her finger. The red twirled into the space between them, and the man’s eyes bulged. A few nearby observers gasped as Jessa sent the red alchemy back into the man.
“Repeat after me,” she said, voice cracking. “I hereby swear my total allegiance and devotion to New Colony and His Royal Highness, King Richard.”
The man repeated the words and Jessa moved on to the next person. One by one, Jessa secured loyalty to my father. With her power, these prisoners of war did exactly as she asked. The second they repeated after her, they physically changed. They transformed from reluctant, afraid, or defiant, to malleable and agreeable; the kind of citizens a king could only dream of. They gazed at my father like he was their savior.
Some of the adults waiting their turn held on tight to their crying children.
Others resisted.
The guardians used their brute strength to force those people forward. Jessa worked quickly, Richard at her side the entire time. As she moved from family to family, I could make out the anguish in her eyes. It killed her to control them like this. Someone who was part of the Resistance would hate to comply with such a task. The Resistance…if Richard was willing to do this to West Americans, eventually he’d be doing the same thing to his own citizens. What better way to cut the Resistance down than right where they grew?
It was genius.
I doubled over, clutching my knees and fighting the rush of blood prickling in my brain. It was too much. These people were no longer free, and they didn’t even have a choice. Was it worth it to be in power if it meant controlling people’s choices like this? How could my father think this was okay? This wasn’t the kind of king I wanted to be.
And yet this will be your legacy.
I twisted the angry thought around in my mind, unsure of what to do with it. I couldn’t just forget it, couldn’t push it away. Did I file it under “necessary evil” or just plain “evil”? A bead of sweat trickled down my spine.
“Don’t touch us!” A woman screamed shrilly, clutching a toddler to her chest. She stood against the wall. Her son, wrapped around her waist, erupted into tears. She ran a trembling hand down his matted hair, shushing him gently.
Jessa, only feet away from the pair, held out a dejected hand. “If you don’t fight it, it will make it easier for him.”
“You’re sick!” The woman stumbled to the side, shaking her head, her eyes round circles of fear. They flicked toward the exit, right near where I was standing. She didn’t see me, looked right past me, but something inside reached out to her, longing to be
able to help, and I took a step forward.
“You don’t want to do that,” Jessa begged. “Please, don’t run. You know what will happen if you do.”
“How can you do this to people?” the woman replied. “I won’t let you touch my son. He’s innocent. You’ll hurt him; you’ll scramble his brain. You scrambled my husband’s brain yesterday! You saw what it did to him; not everyone can handle your sick blood magic.”
“I’m so sorry,” Jessa said low, shoulders caving in. “More than you know.”
But the woman didn’t respond. She took off for the door, feet slapping the tiles, her son still clutched to her middle.
“Don’t!” Jessa yelled after her, but it was too late.
A single bullet ripped through the cafeteria, shattering the silence and sending the inhabitants into frightened hysterics. The woman fell, her body crumpling to the ground. Her son flew from her arms, bawling hysterically.
Blood pooled around her as she held her stomach.
Faulk stood just beyond, her gun raised and a sick smile on her lips.
“Let me heal her.” Jessa pushed past Faulk but she didn’t get far. Richard ripped her back toward him, holding her in place with a grim expression.
“No,” he said, voice booming. “She made her choice.”
Jessa let out a sob as the entire room watched the woman on the floor. She bled out in less than a minute. The child that had fallen from her arms continued to wail as he climbed back onto his mother’s body, her blood soaking him. He couldn’t have been older than two. His face was a red ball of tears and snot, his blonde hair disheveled, the blood turning it pink. His chubby fingers clutched her vacant face, body shaking.
I stepped closer, the urge to comfort him overwhelming. Someone needed to do something! One of the alchemists, a tall man with the visor covering his face, pried the child off his mother without an ounce of sympathy, dumping the boy onto a nearby family.
“Shut him up before I have to do it for you,” the man barked.
The family scrambled to calm the traumatized boy, but it was no use; the boy only grew louder, reaching toward the body. “Mamma!”
“Let me calm him,” Jessa begged, tears streaking down her face.
“He’s of little importance,” Richard replied, not even bothering to look at the boy. He pointed to the next family in the row. “We have work to do.”
And so they continued on, turning person after person into loyal fans of New Colony and the royal family. Anyone who resisted, anyone who tried to run, was murdered by Faulk without a second thought or a shred of mercy. If she had any remorse over taking innocent lives with such brutally, she certainly didn’t show it, but seemed to revel in it, victorious.
Her glee-filled eyes mirrored her King’s.
Exhaustion wore me down, starting as a trickle, but soon becoming a downpour. It tugged at my eyes and fell heavy through my limbs. I squeezed the velvety rose in my pocket, knowing I couldn’t take any more. I couldn’t do this. I slipped from the room, rushing for the nearest empty classroom. Crawling into a dusty closet and closing the door, I dropped the invisibility and fell into a mind-numbing sleep.
Thud, thud, thud, the whirling sound of rudders woke me with a start. I scrambled for the white rose, grateful it wasn’t all gray, yet. In the dim light of the closet, I could barely make out the white stands of magic as they swirled out of the flower. The magic seeped into my skin and the invisibility washed over me, covering me like a blanket. I jumped from my spot, ignoring the pulsing ache in my body, and sprinted from the room, sped through the dank hallway, and outside onto the pavement. The blinding sun was setting over the horizon, a wash of citrus hues painting the sky. Squinting, I could make out the huge chopper my father used had already lifted into the sky. Terror ripped through me like razor blades and I sunk to my knees, gritting my teeth.
What would happen when they got back to base and I was missing? Better yet, how was I supposed to survive out here, defenseless and hungry? It was a warzone, after all, and no way everyone here had been turned.
Boots clomped in the distance, but I couldn’t see anyone. Figuring they were on the other side of the building, I took off. Relief poured over me when I spotted Faulk and her people climbing into a second chopper. I sped forward, barely making it inside in time. I barely dodged the soldier who was in charge of closing the door, and then not seeing a better place to hide, I pressed myself against the door and prayed it would be an easy flight.
The occupants seemed tired, all buckled-in and closed-lipped. Holding my breath, I slid down to sit on the metal floor. I just needed to get my breath under control, my heart to stop beating in rapid-fire succession. After a few minutes, we lifted and I let out a long slow breath, studying the men and women surrounding me.
Were they traumatized by what they were doing? Did they agree with it? Or had they been changed by Jessa already and didn’t care either way?
Their faces were unreadable, some even still covered by black, shiny visors. Maybe it didn’t matter, maybe they were as loyal as anyone in this army.
My muscles ached and I longed to stretch my legs as I counted down the minutes. Finally, mercifully, we landed back at base camp without any problems. The red brick buildings, lined in neat little rows, both beckoned me and frightened me.
I slipped out of the helicopter. The second soldier opened the door and moved out of the way as the people in the chopper streamed from it, boots clomping in succession as they headed in different directions. I needed to get back to the bunker before my father realized I was gone. And even that seemed like a feat. Sucking in a breath of chilled air and helicopter exhaust, I sprinted toward the garage with our bunker beneath.
Just as I was about to enter, something in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Two familiar people were arguing, their voices rising above each other. They stood only twenty feet from the garage, their body language tight and angry.
Curiosity got the better of me and I made the detour, creeping forward on the balls of my feet, hand still gripping the rose in my pocket. I needed to be quick.
“I saw you go into his room.” Callie’s normally sugary voice had turned sour, arms folded over her chest as she stared at her companion. “I saw you do it that night at the orphanage, so don’t even try to lie to me.” Her Guardian armor gleamed with crystals in the setting sun, giving her an even fiercer appearance.
My body prickled, realizing they were arguing about me.
Celia glared down at the girl, nose turned up in disgust. She wore a white fur-lined coat, her red hair styled in loose curls around her face. Her tongue clicked as she thought of what to say. “It doesn’t matter what you saw, whatever your name is. Nobody cares. It’s really none of your business.”
“The hell it isn’t!” Callie stepped forward, pointing a finger at Celia and pressing into Celia’s coat. “Jessa is my friend and she’s married to Lucas, not you.”
“So what?” Celia laughed, turning away as if bored by the accusation. “He doesn’t remember her.”
“When they find her, you’d better believe they’re going to get back together. They love each other. Stop trying to get between them.”
Celia smiled, eyes gleaming in victory. “You really are out of the loop, aren’t you?”
“What are you talking about?” Callie glared.
“I take it you aren’t one of the alchemists going over the border this week?”
“I haven’t yet,” Callie replied suspiciously.
“Maybe you should ask your friends who’s been helping them over there.” Celia rolled her eyes and turned around, hair whipping in the wind like a raging fire as she stormed away.
“Everyone knows you’re a dirty gold digger!” Callie yelled after her, voice furious. She huffed, dropped the visor on her helmet, and ran in the opposite direction.
My body still tingled with what I’d heard. Making sense of everything hadn’t been easy, but that argument had certainly helped. Callie was Jessa�
��s friend, but she could also vouch for her, too. That had to count for something.
Richard and Jessa appeared from around the corner, tired gazes set on the bunker. I balked and ran full force to beat them to the door. Rushing inside, I dodged the guard, waiting with the door opened, and hurried down the staircase. The door at the bottom was closed, so I had to wait. Nervous energy pulsed through me, my hand tight on the rose as Richard and Jessa descended the stairs. The guard opened the door for them, and I slipped in right after they did. Then, I went straight to my room, where I’d mercifully had the foresight to leave my door open this morning. I didn’t give myself time to think it through or to debate it. I just jumped into the bathroom, closed the door, and turned on the shower.
Nobody came knocking.
I breathed in deep shuddering breaths, letting the stress wash off of me as I undressed and ducked into the respite of hot water. I washed away the adrenaline of the day, sorting though everything I’d witnessed, muscles relaxing, breath slowing to a steady cadence. But even as I relaxed, I knew, no matter how hot the water was or how long I stayed under the pelting stream, I’d never be able to clean the images from my mind.
The crying toddler, his plump body frantic for his mother.
Her bloodied, broken body.
And all the people with their glossy-eyed allegiance.
These were the images that clawed at me, that poured through me like the water poured over me. Now, more than ever, I believed Jessa’s outrageous story of our past together. Memories of it or not, there was something rotten about this war, and as much as I hated to admit it, it was my father who lay at the center of the decay.
14
Jessa
The interrogations, the manipulations, the forcing people to bow down to Richard against their will, it all continued. I let it continue.