Gwen shifts from foot to foot. “Maybe,” she says, although I can tell she doesn’t really believe that. I wonder if she says that only to appease me in hopes that I’ll leave quicker.
An imaginary knife in my gut twists. “I should have gone with her. Not him. We don’t know him, and the way he’s killing off kids doesn’t exactly make him seem trustworthy.”
“Alyssa can hold her own with Maddox. She’s smart and strong. Your place is here. If you’d gone with her, who would be in charge and hold us together?” But she doesn’t quite look at me as she says this, which undermines any confidence I have in her words.
I suck in a deep breath. “Katt has taken control of the Poison Garden. I think she intends to declare war on Alnwick.”
“What? Why?” Gwen asks.
“She wants your mother’s notes,” I say. “She’s as desperate as any of the refugees to get her hands on a cure.”
Gwen’s face pales. “Desperate? How desperate?”
Sighing, I let the events of the night run through my head one more time. “I don’t know, but her deadline is dawn.”
“She’s trying to take the throne, isn’t she?” Gwen asks.
“She knows we’ll never let her do that. Even with Alyssa gone. And we certainly aren’t handing over the research papers. Her intentions with your mother’s notes are to share them with everyone. That means not only would the chemical makeup of the Horologia poison be leaked to anyone, but any new antidote could be used as leverage. Especially by the Bloodred Queen. Can you imagine what would happen if she were the only one to possess the formula for the cure? Especially since her country created the poison in the first place. They may still have access to the apple.”
Understanding washes over Gwen’s face. “The entire world would be indebted to her.”
I nod. “Indebted to the woman who tried to murder us all. We can only guess how bad that could be. Katt can’t claim the royal crown. We can’t let her, nor can she get her hands on your mother’s research. She’s already sent the Everland antidote to the Bloodred Queen. Who knows how long they’ve been in contact and what Katt’s shared with her already. If Katt’s support of what is going on within the Poison Garden is any indication of how she would rule, we have to do everything in our power to protect Alnwick until Duchess Alyssa returns.”
“What are we going to do? You saw that crowd earlier. Had they gotten any angrier, they would have stormed the castle, even without someone leading them. We’d be outnumbered,” Gwen says.
Chills race through me. “We need to prepare to defend the castle, recruit as many as we can, and hope that Duchess Alyssa returns with something that Doc can use to develop the real cure.”
“And if she doesn’t come back?” Gwen asks.
The thought makes a lump grow in my throat. Gwen watches me, waiting for me to give her an inkling of hope, and it wrecks me that I have nothing to offer. I promised in Everland to protect her and her family. Northumberland was supposed to be a new home for us, one of hope and a future, except it’s everything but that. I should never have convinced her to join me, Bella, and the other boys in the Lost City. She probably would’ve been better off without me. Gwen is tough, the toughest girl I’ve met. Without me, things might have been better for her, too. Maybe Gwen’s right to leave me. A flurry of panic fills in my stomach. I swallow hard, trying to not to lose it at the thought of life without Gwen.
“Do you think Alyssa will be okay with Maddox?” I ask, changing the subject.
A small smile appears on Gwen’s lips. It’s the first glimpse of hope throughout this entire conversation. “I don’t know Maddox, but if anyone can handle him, it’s the duchess. I’ve sparred with that girl and trust me, I would never want to cross her. My daggers are nothing compared to her sword-wielding skills.”
I feel a hint of relief. At least this is one bit of good news.
“Pete! Gwen!” Doc shouts from the hall. “Where are you?”
“Gwen’s chambers!” I shout back, dashing to the door.
Fear blanches his face as he skids to a stop.
“What is it?” I ask.
“It’s Bella. She’s not well,” Doc says through ragged breaths.
I freeze, unable to take in a breath. “What? What do you mean?” I ask, sprinting toward the castle doors and into the cool night air toward the infirmary. My fists are clenched so tight I can feel my fingernails digging into my palms.
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen symptoms like this,” Doc says, following close behind me.
When I reach the infirmary, Bella’s bed, the one closest to the window, is empty, the blankets in a pile on the ground. Mikey has climbed into Joanna’s cot with her. He sniffles as Joanna squeezes him, both arms wrapped tightly around his quaking body. Joanna peers up at me, tears streaking her rose-colored cheeks.
“She’s there!” Joanna says, pointing to a darkened corner.
A single beam of moonlight shines through a crack in the structure’s boards. The pale light falls on Bella’s face, her expression one of agony. I rush to her side and try to pull her to me.
She swipes at me with her hand, her long, clawed fingernails scratching me in a ribbon of bright pain. I reel back in shock and brush my fingers across my skin. Blood stains my fingertips.
“Bella?” I say, hearing the uncertainty in my voice.
She opens her eyes wide. Instead of the brilliant blue irises I expect, her eyes are a greenish gold. When she sees my face, her jaw drops.
“Pete, I … I’m sorry,” she says.
I wrap my arms around her, unafraid. “Hush. There’s no need to apologize.”
She weeps bitterly in my arms while I pull her into my lap and rock her. What is happening to her eyes? Out of instinct, I look to Doc to explain. But he just stares at me, confused, as I realize he didn’t see what I saw.
“Shh, you’re okay. I’m here now,” I say, not sure how my presence will be of any comfort.
Glancing over, I notice that Gwen followed us and is consoling her own siblings next to the empty bed that once was their mother’s. The finality of the Professor’s death strikes me speechless. Just a short while ago, she was someone; she had a physical presence. Now someone has taken the responsibility to dispose of her body. No good-byes. No funeral. Just … gone.
Resting my cheek on Bella’s head, I hold on to her as tight as I can, unwilling to let go because if I do, she may be the next to die.
The infirmary is filled with quiet sounds of whimpers and whispered words of assurance that all will be well when a shadow is cast along the floor, blocking out the moonlight in the doorway. Turning, I see the strong Indian warrior I met in Everland standing in the doorframe, sobbing. I can hardly breathe as it is, but the sight of a broken fighter chokes what air is left within me.
Doc rushes to her side. “Lily?”
Lily covers her eyes and crumples to the floor, her black sari spilling into a shadowed puddle. Doc kneels next to her, offering what comfort he can.
“Lily, what’s wrong?” he asks, placing an arm around her.
Lily slowly drops her hand, turning her eyes toward me. Her entire body convulses with tremors. At first I don’t know what’s wrong until she peers at me. “What is happening to me?” she says.
Her irises are no longer brown but instead the shade of spun gold, and her pupils are dark slits, like those of a snake.
We step through the break in the wall, and I’ve never been so grateful in my whole life. The melodious song of birds and distant howls of animals echo through the vast forest. Thick branches tower in a blanket of intertwined red, orange, and yellow leaves, concealing the sky beyond them. But the path is not well lit and I wonder if we should light a torch. I turn to ask … but quickly forget who it is I’m addressing or what the question was. In fact, I realize I have no idea where I am or what I’m doing here. I feel a flutter of panic. In the distance I see a boy in a burgundy suit jacket and a top hat. I take caution and pull my sword
from its sheath, unsure if this boy is friend or foe. He seems vaguely familiar, but I don’t recognize him.
Hearing a stick snap beneath my feet, he spins toward me. Appearing equally confused, he catches my gaze and snatches a fancy pistol from his hip. Wood and bark shower down on me as bullets smash into the tree to my right.
Realizing that I am clearly ill-equipped for this battle, I dodge behind a tree. My heart beats so hard I feel my pulse in my hand as I grip the hilt of the sword tighter. When another bullet sounds, I duck, feeling more wood slivers rain on me.
“Who are you? Did the Bloodred Queen send you?” the boy shouts. The crunch of dry leaves draws closer. The crack of his gun echoes through the forest. “Well, you just tell that evil monster that I, Maddox Hadder, am not hers to claim. I escaped her clutches once, and I’ll do it again.”
Another bullet ricochets off the tree. Sheathing my sword, I bolt from my hiding place, dodging from one tree to the next. A murder of crows caw from the treetops as they take flight, frightened by the gunfire.
“I’ll never return to Lohr! Never!” the boy named Maddox screams. Two more shots are fired, and even from this far I can hear the crack of twigs as he searches for me within the woods.
Low-lying branches hang from a nearby tree. I race toward them, grab the bottommost branch, and start climbing. Using every notch and limb, I scurry up as high as I can. A vision of following a laughing, dark-haired girl up a tree flashes in my mind. I don’t know who she is or where that was or if the memory is even real. I shake my head and focus on climbing. The boy dashes into the clearing, panting as he spins. Something catches his attention. He holsters his gun and gives chase through the forest. “Mother! Father! Wait for me!” he shouts, brushing the branches of shrubs aside as he dashes after people I can’t see.
Not soon enough, I find myself alone, still panting. When the boy’s shouts fade so they are no more than a whisper, I climb down from my hiding place. Dark gray smoke rises in the distance beyond a break in the trees. Thankfully, it is in the opposite direction from the one the boy has run off to. Hoping to get directions out of here, wherever here is, I follow the thick plumes until I stumble upon a cottage. W. KANINCHEN is embossed on the metal mailbox. Following the stone pathway, I climb the steps and knock on the door. No one answers.
Against my instincts, I open the front door to the cottage. When I see the kitchen entryway, my stomach rumbles. A clock nearby reads one o’clock. It’s been a while since I’ve last eaten or slept; at least I think it has. I can’t remember what has happened in the last few hours, much less the last day. There’s no time to stop for the simple indulgences of food or rest, so I ignore the pangs of hunger and exhaustion. The clock is ticking, a countdown to something. What it is I don’t know, but I’m sure it’s urgent.
I step into the sitting room. A dark brown leather couch and high-backed chair face an old trunk. A sheet of glass covered in a fine dust sits on top of it. Fire flickers within a potbellied stove, chasing away the chill of the outdoors. Against the far wall is a large mirror framed in cherrywood and black wrought iron.
My reflection stares back at me, pale with mussed-up hair. I comb my fingers through the tangles and weave it into a side plait, a few loose strands framing my face. Although I know the girl looking through the mirror must be me, I hardly recognize myself. As I push my hair from my eyes, I notice the white gloves on my hands, unsure where they came from. I don’t recall having put them on. Wincing, I slip the gloves off, exposing blackened fingernails and boils over my palms. I feel sick staring at the wounds. I have no idea what caused them. Maybe they aren’t real. Maybe I’m just imagining them. Gritting my teeth, I pull the gloves back on, protecting the open wounds.
Whispers sing from the mirror. My reflection no longer stares at me, but instead I see a castle. It looks familiar, but the name buzzes just out of my grasp. Surrounding the stone fortress, tents and lean-tos cover the grounds undisturbed beneath the cloud-covered night sky. A peacefulness resides over the dilapidated town, but it’s broken when an explosion rocks the image before me. I watch as the castle goes up in flames, along with the town around it. Everything is on fire, and even from here I feel the heat against my cheeks. Screams erupt and I cover my ears, trying to shut out the pleas for help. I feel panicked and furious that this castle is under attack. But I don’t know exactly why.
Suddenly, the ground beneath my own feet shakes, rattling loose dust from the rafters. I stumble backward, coughing, telling myself this is only a dream, part of whatever is happening in the mirror, but then the walls around me burst into flames. Running as fast as I can, I race across the living room. I clasp the doorknob, then pull my hands away as the heat bites into my palms through my gloves. Using the sleeves of my cloak, I grip the knob again, jiggling it within the angry red doorframe, but it doesn’t budge. I try the windows, too, but they are also scorching hot. Evil laughter erupts from the looking glass. When I look back, the girl’s face that appears is more than familiar. She’s family.
It’s the girl climbing the tree in my memory. But she is not the same—this version of her is terrifying. I feel guilty looking at her. Like somehow her destruction is my fault.
Something cracks loudly behind me. A small splinter appears on the far wall and spiders out in every direction. Hot red embers glow within the fissures. The floor rumbles beneath my feet again, but this time the house lists.
I duck, covering myself with my arms as the ceiling drops several feet, stopping just above my head. As the walls cave in, I’m forced to the floor, curling up into a ball. There is no room to move. No escape from the crumbling cottage. With my lungs compressing beneath the pressure of the building, I search for any way out. The floor begins to break beneath my feet. Planks of wood buckle and drop into what looks like an underground cave. I struggle to find solid ground, but there is nowhere to go. The floorboards splinter as the walls and ceiling buckle. My heart races as I watch the boards split. With a loud crack the plank breaks, sending me hurtling down a dark tunnel. I hit the dirt ground hard. When I turn my eyes up, I watch the house cave in on itself and disappear.
I stand, brushing the dirt off my clothes. In the distance light shines in the cave. Following the pathway, I discover an opening several meters above the floor. Scrambling up the face of the craggy rock wall, I make my way toward the opening.
When I reach the top, I throw my arms onto the ground to crawl up from the hole. I find that I am back in the woods, only this time they are covered in a blanket of untouched snow. Flakes fall from the sky, clinging to my cheeks and eyelashes.
Standing, I brush the slush from my cloak. The cottage is nowhere to be found. All that is left is the decorative metal mailbox declaring that this was once the residence of W. Kaninchen.
“Alyssa!” My name reverberates throughout the forest. Snow shakes from the tree branches, settling on the thick powder on the ground. That voice. I recognize it immediately this time.
“Maddox. Where are you?” I shout, searching within the shadows. Tree trunks blur by me as my boots sink deep in the ankle-high snow.
“A … A … Alyssa,” someone says, my name whispered from every direction in the dense forest. When I turn my head, the bark in the tree next to me forms into Maddox’s face. My heart beats so fast that I’m sure he can hear it. I touch his face, feeling the slope of his chiseled cheeks and jaw beneath my fingertips. “Maddox?”
“Allllyyyyssssaa,” he hisses.
A twinge climbs up my spine, and I take a step back. “Maddox?”
Maddox’s face contorts, his features morphing into the Bloodred Queen’s, staring from the trunk of the tree. She smiles terribly before two hands made of thick vines slither from the trunk, wrapping around my neck. A gasp catches in my throat as they squeeze like an anaconda, unrelentingly. Stars cloud my vision, and darkness threatens to take me. As I’m ready to give in to my fate, the pressure releases from my neck. I collapse, rolling back onto the blanket of snow and welcoming
the brisk air into my lungs. The leafy hands quiver like a detached lizard’s tail. The green hue fades to brown. Within moments they wither and are nothing more than twigs.
Sitting up, I reach for one with caution, afraid it’ll return to its vine-like state. When I pick it up, it remains a stick. I glance up to where the Bloodred Queen’s face was, only to find that the bark is as it should be. Confused, I drop the stick, sheathe my sword, and stand, never taking my eyes off the tree trunk.
“Alyssa,” a voice says behind me.
Turning, I see Maddox standing in the distance. I chew my lip, afraid to take my gaze off him. The last thing I need is for him to turn into the Bloodred Queen again, or something worse.
“I know the way out. Follow me.” He smiles and beckons me with the crook of his finger before disappearing behind a tree. I trudge through the deep snow toward where he stood, but when I arrive, he’s nowhere to be found. The powder remains untouched by footprints.
“Alyssa, this way.” This time his voice comes from behind me. Maddox stands several meters away, gesturing for me to join him.
“Maddox!” I yell as he slips behind another tree. “Wait!”
My name rings from every direction of the forest. Whirling, I see dozens of people, all of them with Maddox’s likeness: sitting in the boughs of trees, reading beneath a large birch, lounging on fallen logs. Confused, I don’t know which one to run toward. I bump into something. Spinning, I find myself face-to-face with the boy in the top hat. He grips my shoulders hard, his fingers digging into my skin.
“Wake up, Alyssa!” he shouts, giving me a slight shake. Only he isn’t just a boy but something completely different. Something monstrous, horrifying.
Revolted, I struggle beneath his grip. I knee him in the gut and break free as he doubles over. I turn and race through the snow as fast as my boots will take me. Maddox’s voice follows me, but I don’t look back.
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