by Frost Kay
Hazel had fallen asleep as soon as she had yanked her dress off and hopped into bed. But what was more notable was her discovery upon waking. As she’d stared at her ceiling, thinking about the pool, she’d realized something life-changing. She’d seen the sun. A way out. Until today, she’d no idea of how to escape the labyrinth of tunnels. But now, she did. She had her exit, and a plan.
It was simple, really. Drug Matt, steal the sheet, and get to the pool. Once she was there, she’d create a rope of sorts, tie a rock on one side, and throw it up and over the wagon wheel light. The light was way too high for her to jump to, but she could climb to it. As for the flute, well, it was just wide enough that she could climb it. She’d climbed things like that before, although if she slipped this time, she’d die.
It was possible. She could do it. All she needed was another five days.
Her stomach cramped, and she winced. She needed to get stronger, and she didn’t want to try to escape while during her moon time. Not only would that be dumb, but miserable as well.
The door swung open, pulling her from her thoughts as Doc stalked in with his doc face on. She held up her hands. “I see he’s gotten to you with his side of the story. Are you willing to listen to mine?”
He shut the door and passed her a bowl of soup and a thick slice of bread, then crashed on her bed, his arm flung over his face. “Lay it on me.”
“I was bathing,”
“Obviously.”
“Anyhow,” she said over his comment, “I was enjoying my bath and there were some beautiful rocks that I wanted to see. Underneath the water is so quiet and peaceful. It’s a break from reality.”
Doc sighed and sat up, his red hair sticking up in every direction. “So, you weren’t trying to kill yourself?”
“No.” She held his gaze steadily, so he’d see she wasn’t lying.
“Good,” he said at last. “I don’t have time for a crazy patient.”
“Speaking of patients…” she drew out.
“What?” he asked.
“I need some things.”
“Some … things,” he said slowly. “You need to clarify. I can’t read minds.”
“It’s my moon time,” she blurted.
Doc blinked at her. His nose twitched, and he wiped at it, his expression blank. “Not sure how I missed that.”
Heat rushed into her cheeks. “And how would you know that?”
“Not important.” He sprang to his feet and dashed for the door. “You eat your food and I’ll be back with what you need.” The door began to close, and then he popped his head back in. “Cramps, nausea, headaches?”
“All of it.” Truly, the cramps were the only things bothering her, but whatever he brought with him would be helpful for when she was on the run. “And…”
“What?” he asked gently.
“I’m having a hard time sleeping.”
One nod and he was gone. Hazel slurped her soup down and then munched on her bread, waiting for him. When he came back, he had an arsenal with him. He spread it out on the bed and explained what each thing did.
“Thank you,” she said, feeling awful for taking advantage of his generosity and care. “Really, I mean it.”
“I know,” he said, patting her hand. He scooped up her spoon and bowl and threw his pack over his shoulder. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Alright. Sleep well.”
He smiled at her and swung open the door. “You too, Hazel.”
The waiting was killing her.
Three days passed in a blur of bread, cramps, and boredom.
The problem was, being healthier meant she slept less, and that left more time to sit and stew about her circumstances. And her escape.
She glanced around the small room as if someone could read her thoughts. If she made one mistake, her escape would go up in flames.
The snick of the lock pulled her from her thoughts. She swung her feet over the bed to wait for Matt. He’d taken to visiting her every evening, leaving after she fell asleep. She didn’t know what to make of that, but regardless, it was a welcome comfort to have someone watching over her who wasn’t the enemy.
The door swung open and two unfamiliar Tainted stepped into the room. Hazel rolled off the bed to put the furniture between her and them. Her hand slid underneath the pillow and wrapped around the smooth handle of the knife there.
Silence teeming with violence filled the room as they stared at each other. The small Tainted was a woman. Hazel’s eyes were immediately drawn to her leathery wings. They were angular, kind of like the woman herself. She was so tiny, she made Hazel look like a giant. With a little envy, she gazed at the woman’s bronze skin. It was obvious she had Spanish descent and spent time in the sun. Lucky.
Hazel pulled her gaze away from the Spanish beauty to focus on the man. He was huge, wide-shouldered, and had thick arms and legs. She swallowed at the black and yellow scales that ran along his arms and disappeared into his t-shirt. His hawkish cheekbones melded with more scales, and with difficulty, she met his hard stare.
He gave nothing away and stared back. Despite his calm demeanor, it was like he wore a cape of danger around him.
“Well, you’re not Matt.” The statement cut some of the tension.
The man smiled, flashing her a mouthful of sharper teeth, but blessedly no fangs.
“We aren’t.”
The woman’s voice was raspy and deep, completely opposite of her appearance. Hazel glanced at the woman, noting she had soft, fawn-like eyes. “I’d normally welcome you, but since these are not normal circumstances, I’ll be blunt. Who are you and what are you doing in my cell?”
“Technically, it’s our cell,” the male retorted.
You’ve got to be kidding me. “So, I owe my imprisonment to you?” she asked carefully, her tone giving nothing away.
“Something like that,” the woman muttered, eyeing Hazel like she could pull her apart and figure out what made her tick. “We’ve been remiss in our duties in visiting.”
“In visiting your prisoner?” Hazel said in confusion.
“In visiting the newest member of our village,” the man said. He gestured to the chair. “Do you mind if I sit? My back is killing me.”
Hazel nodded, her brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of what the devil was going on. She shook her head. “I think you’re mistaken. I’m not of your village.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Untouched,” the woman said. “It’s been discussed with the council, and with our approval, they’ve decided to allow you to stay.”
“Stay?” Hazel asked stupidly. She couldn’t have heard her right.
“There was much debate on what to do with you. You’re valuable. We would gain much wealth if we sold you … but we’re not slavers.” The disgust at the idea of slaves was palpable from his tone. “Others believed we should make sport of you.”
Hazel shifted on her feet and lifted her blade higher. “No one will make sport of me.”
The man shifted his massive bulk in the chair, crossing his ankle over a thick thigh. Amusement sparkled in his eyes. “Of that, I have no doubt. I’ve heard whisperings that you’ve been trouble down here. Are you trouble?”
“Only if you intend to harm me. If you leave me alone, I’ll leave you alone.”
His gaze wandered to the blade, and he shook his head, mumbling something. The woman’s fawn eyes sharpened on the blade she held, a noise gurgling in the back of her throat.
Hazel cleared her throat. “I don’t intend to harm you … as long as you don’t plan to harm me,” she reiterated.
“How did you come by that blade?” the woman murmured.
Hazel allowed herself a grin. They were concerned about the blade. Maybe the monster would pay for some of his mistakes. “A monster gave it to me. I think he expected me to end my life with it.”
At her use of monster, both Tainted stiffened. “Is that how you see us, as monsters?” the male asked softly.
They certainly looked like monsters, but … they hadn’t hurt her, and they hadn’t sold her into slavery. That meant they weren’t awful people, but there was no guarantee they were innocent.
“You’ve given me no proof that you are, but I reserve the right to judgement.”
The woman laughed softly. “You’re an interesting one.” A glance at the male. “I can see her appeal.”
He hummed and scanned Hazel head-to-toe in a look that didn’t feel sexual, just assessing. “Our son doesn’t trust you.”
“Your son?” Her nose wrinkled as she glanced between them. She didn’t know their son. The only Tainted she’d met since arriving were … realization slammed into her and she stumbled back against the wall, cold seeping through her cotton dress. These were the monster’s parents. She knew they reminded her of someone.
“We’re not here to hurt you, Hazel,” the male soothed.
They knew her name? She wanted to slap herself. Of course, they knew her name.
The woman stepped forward, her wings rustling behind her. “My name is Sara, and this is my husband Clint. We’re the ruling couple of the classes here in the Arch.”
“Classes?” Hazel muttered.
“Lessons for another time,” Clint said, pushing from his chair. “Today, all you need to know is that your incarceration ends tomorrow. We’ll find you a place to live and assign you a job.”
Slave labor.
He opened the door and nodded to Hazel. “It was nice to meet you.”
Sara paused by the door, her shrewd eyes softening. “Don’t be fearful. Tomorrow marks the first day of the rest of your life.”
Hazel stood in place long after the couple had left. They’d messed with her plan. They were going to move her from here to another prison. She had no doubt that was what it would be. The couple spouted pretty lies. Oh, they hadn’t sold her, but it was for their own selfish gain.
They’d raised the monster, so by all rights, they were monsters, too.
She’d have to escape tonight.
Twenty-Three
Hazel
“How are you feeling today?”
Hazel rolled her eyes as she fiddled with the frayed edge of the blanket lying across her lap. “The same as every day, I suppose.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “You’ve asked that for the last three days.”
Matt shrugged and leaned his head back against the chair, staring at the ceiling. “I’m just worried about you.”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt myself.” She’d told him that every day, and yet, she got the feeling he didn’t believe her. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, but…” He hesitated. “Babe, you were a mess when Noah let me in. I can’t get the images out of my mind.” He ran a hand over his mouth. “There was so much blood. I have nightmares.”
She cringed. “It wasn’t about you. None of it was. I was trying to escape.”
He glanced at her. “By starving yourself? By cutting yourself over and over?” He shuddered. “Forgive me for being overprotective and skeptical. Your actions spoke plainly of your motives.”
Hazel glanced away, gazing at the shadows the warm lantern light cast against the wall. This conversation wasn’t going the way she needed it to. She needed him pliant, not argumentative.
“Do you remember the sleepovers we had as children?” His breath hitched, but she didn’t look his way. “Sleeping in front of the fireplace, shadow puppets, my mama reading us stories…”
“I miss those days,” Matt said roughly.
So did she. Hazel grinned when a shadow bird appeared on the wall, all lopsided and wonky. “That’s pathetic.”
“Well, it’s been years. I dare you to do better.”
Smiling, she twisted her fingers into a rough rabbit shape. “Beat that.”
The shadow puppet war began. By the end, they were both laughing so hard they couldn’t breathe. She grabbed her chest and straightened, wiping her eyes. “That was terrible.”
Matt held up a finger with a grin. “Just to be clear, I won.”
She snorted. “You won the lamest shadow puppet award.”
“Har har,” he retorted. “You were just as bad.”
Hazel sniffed and picked up her cup from next to her bed, swirling the contents. Mint and lavender curled around her. “Thanks,” she whispered, glancing over the rim and pretending to take a drink. “That was fun.”
His smile gentled and he reached out to clasp her right hand. “It was. It felt like I had my old friend back.”
Her stomach sank. He’d never get his old friend back. That Hazel was gone for good. She glanced at her cup again, trying to ignore the guilt at what she was about to do.
“I’m different now, Matty.”
“I know. Things have changed between us.”
She glanced at him, only able to hold his gaze for a moment before staring at her lap. “More than you know.” She swallowed. “I have nightmares.”
“Of what?”
“Monsters, death, and pain.” The words tasted bitter on her tongue. They were the truth, but she didn’t wish to share them with him. They were a manipulation to get her way. Truth or not, it still made her a traitor.
“I’ve been having a hard time sleeping, but thankfully Doc’s been giving me something to help with that.” She gave him a half smile and held the cup out to him. “You might give it a try. It might help with your nightmares.”
He glanced thoughtfully at the cup she held out. “I tend to stay away from Doc’s teas. They’re usually disgusting.”
Hazel barked out a laugh. Matt wasn’t far from the truth, but this one was sweet, and Matty had always had a weakness for sweets. “True, but…” She glanced around like she was about to tell a secret. “Doc snagged some honey for me. It’s so sweet.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed. “He made you sweet tea? That bastard.” He waved his fingers at her. “Hand that over.”
She did, watching with chagrin at his deep sip. He held it back out to her, and she waved a hand at him. “I’ve had enough. Feel free to drink the rest.” She snuggled into her bed and turned onto her side to stare at him as he drank the rest.
“You ready for bed, babe?” he asked, placing the cup on the floor.
“Yeah, it’s been a long day.” She laughed. “Even though I haven’t done anything.”
“Your body needs time to heal, and sleep is the best thing for that.” He scooched down in the chair and smiled at her. “I’ll stay ‘til you fall asleep.”
Blinking away the tears in her eyes, she reached a hand out from underneath the covers. Matt blinked at her and reached out to hold it.
“Thank you for being here for me. It means a lot.” Please forgive me.
He squeezed her hand and yawned. “This is our second chance, Hazel. We’re lucky we found each other again. It just proves that nothing can break friendships that were meant to last a lifetime.”
Except death. “Best friends?” she asked.
“Always,” he answered.
She released his hand and hunkered down in the bed, pretending her best to be falling asleep, even though her entire body was lit up with nerves.
Matt turned the lantern down and then wiggled around in his chair until he got comfortable. She crushed the blankets between her fingers as he slowly nodded off, and his breathing deepened.
She waited an hour and it was excruciating. “Matt?” she whispered.
Nothing.
Hazel sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Matt,” she said louder.
Still nothing.
Her shoulders slumped. Doc’s sleeping draught had done its job.
She tiptoed from the bed, pulling the sheet with her. She’d torn off a section earlier that day and created a rough knapsack to carry the supplies Doc had left with her. Hazel paused at the foot of the bed and scanned the cell that had been her home for weeks. Her lot could have been worse.
Finally, she tur
ned toward Matt and moved to his side. In sleep, he still looked like the boy she grew up with, the one she’d loved. They’d never been in love with each other, but she was his, just as he was hers, and that wouldn’t ever change. He was right; they had a friendship people dreamed about. Unable to help herself, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, his rough sandy five o’clock shadow abrading her lips.
Again, nothing. He didn’t stir.
Hazel pulled herself from her friend, taking the keys he kept in the front pocket of his shirt, and snuck toward the door. She inhaled deeply and stole one last look at her friend before opening the door. Her nerves sang as she peeked out into the dark hallway, lit only by little puddles of moonlight here and there. The coast was clear.
She shut the door quietly behind her, locked the door, then listened for any sounds. It was like the world was holding its breath. Her hands shook as she shoved the keys into her bra. This was it. It was now or never.
Hazel strode down the hallway as fast as she could without running, avoiding the puddles of moonlight. She was thankful for her sharp memory at that moment. After three left turns and a right and another left, the smell of rotten eggs assaulted her. So close.
A humming echoed from the hot springs, causing Hazel to skid to a stop. Dang it. She’d hoped there wouldn’t be anyone in here at this time of night. Carefully, she pulled a small but stout metal bar from her knapsack. Thank goodness for old metal beds.
She crept forward and peered through the steam. Her heart sank as she caught a familiar auburn head of hair.
Doc.
Of all the stupid luck.
Hazel squeezed her eyes closed. She couldn’t hurt him after he’d helped her so much. What was she supposed to do? Did she run back to her cell and pretend none of this happened? No. She opened her eyes and squared her shoulders. Tomorrow would bring enslavement. If she wanted to escape, it had to be now.
From the shadows, she spied on Doc until he pulled himself from the pool, water sluicing from his nude body. Hazel averted her eyes, a blush staining her cheeks. She’d never seen a naked man before. Mentally slapping herself, she crept forward, her hand clenching the pipe as Doc wrapped a towel around his waist and bent to pick up his clothes.