The Forgotten World

by Robin D. Mahle

  He nodded. The man who had Addie in his grasp was the same one responsible for these atrocities. I swallowed, dipping my head once to show I wouldn’t do anything, and he let go.

  I took another look at the locals and realized they weren’t peacefully mulling about their lives. There was a quiet, terrified tension accompanying their every interaction. They spoke in hushed tones, and their shoulders were hunched nearly to their ears.

  I hated to admit it, but Nell had been right to insist JeVani come with me. Especially when a trilling sound filled the square we were in.

  All around us, the townspeople stopped whatever they were doing, some quite literally freezing mid-stride to turn toward a short, wide statue of HiLa.

  I looked to JeVani, quirking a questioning eyebrow.

  “Holo-vid,” he whispered in my ear.

  Before he could explain yet another foreign term to me, a square of light appeared in the town centre over the fountain, blinking a few times before solidifying into a sharp image.

  A man who looked like he could be Nell’s father sat on a tall, narrow throne, one I might have guessed had been created for a woman even if I hadn’t known the history.

  His crown was clearly made to match, all tall points and delicate arches. He didn’t look like a psychopath who would be responsible for all this devastation. But then, neither did the man on his left.

  The General stood next to him, hands linked with a girl who looked younger than Addie, one who looked even more like Nell than the man did. And on his right—

  Knee-weakening relief slammed through me as I scanned her face for any signs of mistreatment, only belatedly noticing the chair Addie was perched on was gilded, ornate. It may have been smaller than the king’s, but it was definitely a throne.

  I blinked, gratefully taking in the unmarred skin on her pale stomach, exposed by the gap between her sheer pink top and pants. Then, my gaze drifted to the king’s territorial hand on her bare shoulder.

  A thick gold bracelet covered the ink that matched mine.

  And finally, I noticed the bronze and jade circlet nestled into the ornate braids on her head.

  I scanned her face for any signs of distress, but she had her careful heiress mask in place. As much as I had grown to know her these past weeks, that expression was still like a fortress to me, stark and impenetrable.

  Surely, she didn’t want to be there.

  But hadn’t she nearly married a prince before? And hadn’t I just told her I didn’t know if I wanted to be with her? The image of her face when I had spoken those words was like a stab to the gut.

  It was like someone else had been speaking, like I had been watching myself ruin my entire life with those words and helpless to stop it.

  I shook myself out of it. I knew the general excelled at manipulating people into doing what he wanted them to. Still, I rubbed the tattoo on my wrist, the one with her name scrawled in ancient Levelian. Addie was strong and stubborn and had a way of taking everyone by surprise.

  I trusted her, and I thought I knew her better than to think she wanted this. I was so wrapped up in these thoughts, I hardly heard the king’s words when he finally did speak until I caught something about “an alliance.”

  “Those below have forgotten us, have written us off as legend. When we bridge the gap between our worlds and take our rightful place among them, they will remember Levelia!”

  There were murmurs in the crowd, even a few nods, like these people wanted someone to blame for everything their king had done, some hope that things might get better even with the terrible man in power.

  More than one person quietly expressed horror or disbelief, including me when I noticed the king’s overt glance at my wife when he mentioned an alliance. For a man as calculating as he was purported to be, I knew it was intentional.

  We needed to get back to Nell. I may not like the queen right now, but she was at least my ally in this. And after seeing Addie in the hands of the duo of sociopaths, I knew we had to act soon.

  Before she got even more caught up in whatever twisted web they were weaving.

  The Analyst

  The boy — Gunther — still hadn’t stirred. BeLa knew, clinically, that wasn’t a good sign, but she couldn’t help the small feeling of hope he stirred within her. It played in the back of her mind like a song she couldn’t quite remember the words to.

  Hope. It was an unfamiliar feeling these days, but something in his pale skin and freckled face made her want to.

  That, and the general’s declaration.

  She trailed her gaze down Gunther’s lean chest to the wound that was finally healing, at least on the outside. She suspected it was healing internally as well. She was beginning to wonder if there wasn’t more to this injury, perhaps a trauma that was preventing him from wanting to be awake. Or alive.

  But the scars on his hands said that he had been through worse than this and come out on the other side. They were vicious, but years old. And here he was.

  So, she talked to him, letting her fingers run through his hair, trying to infuse him with some of the comfort she could still remember her mother giving her as a child. Even medical books cited the healing power of human touch.

  Her second patient was another story entirely. Somehow, even tiny and unconscious, the girl was a bit intimidating.

  When she woke up after only a couple of days, the last thing BeLa expected was to feel pity for her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Adelaide

  Another day passed after the king paraded me by his side, and I pretended not to notice. I hadn’t yet figured out his end game, his motives. And I hadn’t found Clark and the others. So, I smiled blandly and sat by his side, pretending not to catch the meaning behind the tiara he had placed on my head.

  And when he beckoned, I came.

  I was getting used to the airy, diaphanous clothing, but being summoned was something I was certain I would never grow accustomed to. This time, my unfamiliar escort turned in the opposite direction of the throne room.

  I tried to still the frantic beating of my heart when we descended several flights of stairs until we were in a narrow underground hallway. The padding of my slippered feet echoed off the pristine marble walls, while the guard traveled soundlessly, as Locke always had.

  Finally, the hulking man stopped at an unremarkable burnished silver door, indistinguishable to me from the twenty or so we had passed just like it. The door slid open into the wall, and the guard motioned for me to enter.

  I hesitated. I was fairly certain by now the king had no desire to hurt me, but I was still on tenuous ground with the man. What if this was Levelia’s version of a dungeon? What if these doorways were soundproof, underground cells? It wouldn’t surprise me.

  Very little did, at this point.

  I decided to go in under my own steam, though, rather than be physically moved by the much stronger guard. Ultimately, I didn’t really have decisions here, only summons.

  General Noble occupied a plush seat in the corner, leaving a couch and chaise lounge open. The spacious room with gleaming blue walls didn’t look like a dungeon, but that didn’t mean I had any more choice in being here.

  I fought to keep the resentment off my face, but I must have failed, as usual, because the first thing the king did when he saw me was cluck his tongue.

  “Don’t be petulant, my dear.” He directed me to the chaise lounge and handed me a glass of iced wine the same shimmering green as the night in the throne room.

  I took it gratefully, no longer as worried about keeping my wits as I was about escaping this situation, if only for a moment. The longer I was here, the more I was starting to wonder if this actually would be my new life.

  His endearment only made me want to glare harder, so I quickly put my neutral mask up. His smile broadened.

  “Very good. You really are something.” His gaze perused me, piercing the sheer fabric of my outfit. I was more grateful than I would have liked to have been for the
general’s presence. “How old are you?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “Only a year older than my BeLa. I couldn’t help but notice the tattoo on your hand. You must be very mature for your age, to have made the decision to get married so young.”

  “BeLa is getting married as well,” I commented.

  “A political decision, not one she had a say in.” He said it so casually, like her having no control over her life and body was a nonissue.

  I took a sizable gulp of my wine to hide my reaction.

  “Technically speaking, I’m not sure I had a say either.” I mused aloud without thinking.

  “So, you didn’t choose your husband?” The king’s eyes sparked, and I wanted to suck the comment back in.

  “It’s a long story,” I hedged.

  He leaned back, bringing his chalice to his lips. “Fortunately, we are in no rush.”

  It felt dangerous to relay the truth for reasons I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But it wasn’t exactly a secret, and gaining his trust was paramount right now.

  Thus, I found myself telling him the entire twisted tale of how Clark and I had partaken in a rite we didn’t understand, only to wake up and find ourselves wed.

  “And you were satisfied with this outcome?” he asked.

  “Not initially.”

  Clark’s father was listening intently, and I fervently wished I was anywhere else, talking about anything else.

  “We asked the captain to undo it, but she said since the law had been followed to the letter, there was nothing she could do.” There. I hadn’t actually outlined what that law was, or what had transpired that night that had left us with no wiggle room.

  “Ah, yes.” The king looked oddly gratified. “That sounds like her. Always more about the letter of the law than the spirit. Well, I can’t say that I agree with her. In any event, as long as you’re happy now...”

  He trailed off. I must have waited too long to respond, lost in my thoughts of Clark’s recent distance and admitted uncertainty. The king stood, walked to a nearby cabinet, and pulled out a small tube. He held it out to me.

  “This will dissolve the tattoo, and your marriage along with it. The original formula took up to a year, but this one works in a matter of weeks.”

  I didn’t move to take it. I had suspected he wanted more from me, but I had reassured myself that the tattoo on my wrist provided me with some degree of protection.

  “That’s kind of you, but I—” I trailed off, not sure which angle to play.

  The king placed the tube on the arm of my chair.

  “You don’t have to decide right now. Take it, think on it. The tube is yours if you wish it.” He hesitated before putting a steady hand on my shoulder. “And this time, let it be your decision.” Clearly, he had no struggle about which angle to take.

  He moved on like we had never discussed it.

  “You may have wondered why we met here today.”

  “Naturally,” I responded.

  He gave me another grin that I’m sure had women older and more experienced than I was fanning themselves. But I had spent my life around people far more beautiful than I was, and I had ceased to be phased by it. I nonetheless forced a blush to my cheeks.

  “You see, time does not pass in this room.”

  I blinked, sure he was joking.

  “I see you are skeptical, but all will be proven in time. Think of this as a chasm, a split in between two possibilities, but frozen.”

  I had seen a great many remarkable things, but this seemed downright impossible. I looked to the general for confirmation. He nodded.

  The king followed my gaze with narrowed eyes, and I realized my mistake too late.

  “Ah,” he said, ice dripping from his words. “It is understandable that you would seek confirmation from a fellow outsider.”

  I caught his gaze with mine, widening my eyes.

  “It’s just all so improbable.”

  His eyes burned for another moment.

  “More so than an amulet which refuses to leave your neck?”

  “I suppose not.”

  Finally, he nodded, content to have won this argument. Then, he pulled the necklace in question from his pocket.

  “I thought, perhaps, you would like to take advantage of this chamber to better understand the mechanics of the thing which held you captive for all those months.” His eyes burned with a different intensity now, a kind of hunger that had nothing to do with physical attraction.

  Power, he had said.

  And perhaps I was an idiot for not seeing it sooner, but just then, it clicked into place. I was perhaps the only person who could wield the necklace now, and my name alone could provide a place for him on the ground below. He led the most advanced empire to ever exist.

  Together, we might truly be unbeatable.

  And I had the feeling he would stop at nothing to see that happen.

  The General escorted me back to my room, which meant we were alone together. I hadn’t minded that as much lately, but today, the look he was giving me was scrutinizing. I lacked the patience to wait him out today.

  “What?” I returned his direct stare.

  He pursed his lips thoughtfully before responding.

  “You indicated Clark was unhappy with your arrangement.”

  “I did.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “I’m not exactly the kind of girl a guy dreams about marrying.” The words were out of my mouth before the thought had even finished forming in my head, but I tasted their veracity even as I said them.

  Men had wanted to marry me for my father’s money and my place in society. They had wanted my body for a short time. But by and large, I was not the kind of woman a gentile member of Ceithren society would bring home to their mothers. I was too outspoken, too opinionated, and, frankly, hadn’t been a virgin in some time.

  I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t realize the general was responding until halfway through his question.

  “—say that?” He had a way of responding to everything I said with a question.

  I didn’t always like the way he made me think about things I would just as soon keep at a distance, but I had grown to appreciate the honesty between us. It was refreshing, something I had never had with my own father or even the notoriously introverted Locke.

  So, I gave him the truth.

  “I have...a past.” Heat rose to my cheeks. “And I’ve been told I can be quite contrary, surprising though I’m sure you find that.”

  A rare grin graced his weathered face, and he motioned for me to continue.

  “That was it. I’m just saying, I’m sure I’m not the kind of girl you pictured your son marrying.”

  At that, he laughed out loud.

  “Certainly not.”

  Though his tone was jovial, something inside me sank at his words. I tried to keep it off my face, but I could feel my own expression tightening. Then, he spoke again.

  “Truthfully, I don’t think I ever pictured Clark married at all. He never seemed to find anyone who challenged him, who held his interest, and I began to worry he might settle for someone...simple.” He said the word like it was a bad thing, like I hadn’t spent my entire life wishing I could just be a little bit less difficult.

  “It never occurred to me that he would find anyone as remarkable as you, Addie.” His gaze turned serious. “Someone who challenged him. Much less that he would be smart enough to keep you when he did.”

  I blinked.

  “But—”

  “Clark has a past as well. We all do. What makes you think we give a single damn about yours?” The man rarely cursed, and this time it made me smile.

  I closed my eyes against the sudden burning behind them.

  “It’s a nice thought, but I’m not sure that’s what he wants.”

  He started to respond, but I cut him off. I couldn’t handle any more emotion, any more false hope about Clark. And I had a more pressing question.
r />   “Do you know where he is yet?” My words were barely above a whisper, but he heard them.

  “No, but he’ll turn up soon.” He surprised me by smirking. “Clark never could stay out of trouble.”

  The Analyst

  When Gunther finally woke up, BeLa actually shouted with excitement. The boy was so stoic, he didn’t even jump. She bounced over to him, noting that his eyes were a true, brilliant shade of sky blue. If happiness had a color, it would be the color of Gunther’s eyes.

  “I just need to take your vitals. Do you feel dizzy? Nauseated? Can you speak?” She was firing off questions rapidly, her nervousness making her even less personable than usual.

  He pointed to his ears, a confused look on his handsome features. Had those been injured as well?

  “The general didn’t mention that you hurt your ears also, but I did wonder about a head injury,” she rambled, pulling out some tools she had acquired to examine his ears.

  He waved her away with a chuckle.

  “No, no. They aren’t hurt. At least, not recently. I’m deaf.”

  “Oh.” BeLa had been accused of many things, but never stupidity. And yet, in the wake of this knowledge, she continued to ramble aloud as though he could hear her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, and the general never said. Oh, I should probably stop talking now when you can’t even hear me. What is wrong with me?”

  Then, the boy gave her a smile that seemed to light up every dark place within her.

  “It’s all right,” he said. And for some reason, when he said it, she wanted to believe it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Clark

  I still couldn’t entirely agree with Nell’s stance on working with the Court, but I had to admit I had softened somewhat toward the idea after what I had seen in the village.

  As long as none of them talked to me or so much as glanced in my direction, that was. Which actually seemed to be more or less what was happening.