The Agrista (Between the Lines Book 1)

Home > Other > The Agrista (Between the Lines Book 1) > Page 17
The Agrista (Between the Lines Book 1) Page 17

by Shannon Lamb


  “If you think one impure thought of Mariella, you’ll be demoted faster than you can blink,” Cayden whispered.

  “Great Lucidus, I actually agree with Cerin! You Umbra need to lighten up,” Raeph sighed, lackadaisically folding his arms behind his head.

  “If it bothers Alex so much, let him tag along with those two,” Cerin shrugged. “Contrary to my physical appearance, I am an adult. I don’t need a damn guardian.”

  “You’re not going off on your own. We’re not going to risk our lives to track you down again,” Alex growled.

  “I think this will be good for you, Alex. It’s only one day. Raeph is perfectly capable of protecting Marie, and we’ll all be in close proximity to one another,” Cayden spoke up before Alex could object.

  “I don’t like it.”

  “I know, brother, but it’s important for you to learn to let go. It was hard for me at first, too,” Cayden’s voice was firm, but gentle in its reproach.

  “Yes, and look where letting go has led you.” Alex had his back against the wall and his hackles raised.

  “I know you’re upset, but there’s no need to be cruel,” Cayden whispered before sharply turning away. Alex’s temper broke at his words.

  ROYAL RUMP

  Isabel coasted through the dense accumulation, slicing through plump, gilded clouds to reveal a vibrant blue sky teeming with avian life of all shapes and sizes. The vermillion sun lavished the land, illuminating miles and miles of lush vegetation with a vivifying copper light that set fire to the fields.

  Marie herself began to glow when the sharp scent of freshly spread manure pervaded the hot, sticky air on the ship. The foul aroma filled her with a sense of nostalgia that made the others quirk their brows.

  Marie’s hometown of Quaker Springs was a desolate farm town, and Ovis was the first place that bore any resemblance. The pungent reminder made Marie miss home more than ever, so much she even missed Amelia.

  “We’re less than a mile outside of Marketown,” Fallon announced as Isabel touched ground.

  “Is Laylia supposed to be here?” asked Marie.

  “Ah, if only it were that easy,” Alex smiled. Marie’s optimism often bordered on naiveté, a quality he found – for lack of a better word – cute. “Ovis is a small planet comprised of farmers and merchants. Marketown is where they all assemble to sell their crops and wares.”

  “Everyone trades here, whether it’s goods or information. If there’s some kind of epidemic, they’ll know about it,” Raeph elaborated.

  “You can all have a day to yourselves, but make sure to stay in the shadows. Especially you two,” Fallon eyed Cerin and Raeph. “If you manage to get yourselves into trouble, plan on bailing yourselves out, too. I know at least one of you will end up at the pub, and there’s only one Pub-Inn in town: Iunctura. We’ll meet up there first thing in the morning. You’re dismissed,” Fallon avoided eye contact and spoke in soft, even tones. Oddly enough, her not acting like a deranged, rabid animal put everyone on edge.

  “Later, fools!” Cerin sprinted toward the door, only to be yanked back by Alex.

  Marie couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Cerin running in place as he gasped for air. “Alex, you might want to loosen your grip.”

  “If you need me, I will find you,” Alex stood uncomfortably close as he spoke to her.

  “She’ll be fine,” Raeph rolled his eyes and slung an arm over Marie’s shoulders. Alex glared at Raeph until he and Cerin were well out of sight. “Let’s head to Iunctura.”

  “What? But I want to explore first!” Marie protested.

  “There’s no need. Iunctura has everything either of us could possibly want. There’s spa services for you, and Dolus and booze for me!” Marie tried not to be offended by his derogatory stereotyping of her gender, especially since a spa day sounded pretty good right now. Then again, so did booze.

  “Fine!”

  The second Marie stepped off the ship, a farmer working in a nearby field dropped everything he was doing to investigate their arrival with a gaping mouth and bulging eyes.

  “Why is that man staring at me?” she whispered.

  “The ship’s invisible. To him, you just appeared out of thin air.” Raeph enthusiastically waved at the poor frazzled farmer, causing him to avert his eyes and hang his head as he scrambled for his pitchfork.

  “After all the things I’ve seen since coming here, that hardly seems that big a deal.”

  “It is to them. Ovis doesn’t have magic,” said Raeph. “It’s ironic, really. The people here know nothing outside of Ovis’ culture, yet they’re the largest market of imports and exports. Everyone and everything has to go through Ovis.” Marie couldn’t believe how desensitized she’d become to such miraculous things herself.

  “Ah. Don’t ask, don’t tell. I’m familiar with the concept.”

  “Ignorance is bliss,” he shrugged, though he didn’t believe such nonsense.

  Marie found herself grinning from ear to ear as she skipped merrily along the dirt path. A cornucopia of wildflowers dotted the fluffy swards of green while a kaleidoscope of butterflies danced to the chorus of birds, undulating softly on the breeze.

  Billowing trees swayed along the horizon, their shadows constructing a story along the sunny path that wound out from Marie’s feet. Ovis felt so much like home, until they’d hit Marketown.

  Two main streets ran perpendicular to one another, stretching over the entire length of the enormous city. Each street was flanked by several side streets that branched out into several more. They all came together in an intricate hexagonal spider web that made Marie’s head spin, and left her feeling a bit like tangled prey.

  Every nook and alcove was filled with rowdy vendors, anxious to sell their wares. The silver-tongued peddlers were as intrusive and demanding as carnies looking to make a buck, except they had free reign over their domain and harbored no concept of personal space. In five seconds flat, Marie went from feeling elated to panic-stricken. She abhorred cities.

  “Is the Iunctura close?” It was Marie’s third time asking in the past hour, and she’d mispronounced the name every time.

  “It’s at the center of town,” Raeph sighed. He hated repeating himself.

  “I get that! How far until we reach the center of town?”

  “Stop complaining! It’s only a few miles. You walked a lot more than that on Anthros,” Raeph whipped his body around, causing Marie to crash into him. “Why didn’t you stay on the ship?” Obviously, he’d been stewing about her decision this entire time and was looking for the right opportunity to bring it up. This wasn’t it. “All jesting and finger pointing aside, what could you have contributed? You’re not a fighter or a tracker, and as far as I can see, you have no special abilities,” Raeph looked her over appraisingly.

  “You seem to be forgetting one crucial detail. If it weren’t for me, we never would’ve found Cerin.” Marie hated sounding so haughty, but enough was enough.

  “Please. You got lucky.”

  “God! Why do you even care?”

  “I don’t. I was simply curious,” his words stung, and were far from the truth.

  Neither of them spoke another word until they arrived at the Iunctura. Much to her surprise, Raeph held the door open for her when they arrived, but she was too livid to mind her manners. She bustled past him, pointedly ignoring his polite gesture as she gave the room a once-over.

  The lower level of the Iunctura was a rustic pub with scuffed hardwood floors, ale-tarnished tabletops and low-hanging chandeliers that emitted a soft, natural glow. It was as large as a warehouse and equally as dingy and charming, partly due to the ancient clientele.

  It was surprisingly packed for being the middle of the afternoon on a weekday. Apparently the people of Ovis worked hard and partied even harder. Dozens of drunks slumped over chairs chaotically strewn around the tables, scanning the room for any woman drunk enough or dumb enough to take to their bed. Given that Marie was the only woman in the pub
apart from the rotund, middle-aged cook, their chances were slim.

  “Lovely. Where’s the concierge?” While the term wasn’t familiar to Raeph, he didn’t fail to notice the sarcastic overtones. “Spa services?” She heaved a dissatisfied sigh and rolled her eyes.

  “No need to get sassy, sweetheart. I deliver on my promises,” Raeph cocked an arrogant half-grin that more than likely made all the women swoon, but Marie was determined to be the exception.

  She reluctantly trailed behind Raeph as he made his way to the bar. She eyed the filthy countertop and directed all of her vitriol into her forlorn gaze, glaring at the innocent barkeep who watched her expectantly. A gruff man, used to dealing with all breed and class of people, winced under the weight of her cruel stare.

  “I’ll have a pint of your cheapest ale and your best room,” Raeph handed the barkeep five wooden coins, the general currency on Ovis.

  The people of Ovis valued horticulture above all else. Those with the talent to cultivate and care for plants were the subject of envy, revered by all. Trees provided people with oxygen and took centuries to grow, and therefore were considered a precious commodity. The older the tree, the greater the value of the coin.

  The burly barkeep handed Marie a brass key and pointed to the far left corner of the room where a spiral staircase wound up to the second floor, cloaked in shadow and broken cobwebs. She looked to Raeph for reassurance, but he already had his back to her and was immersed in bubbly banter with the overly-flirtatious cook.

  Ugh. Men! Marie scoffed as she turned on her heel and marched up the stairs. She felt pleasantly surprised when she reached the top. A set of ornate oak doors flanked each side of the long, narrow hallway. Only one stood out – room number five – perpendicular to the others.

  Marie was pleased to discover that the number on the gilded, jewel-encrusted door matched that engraved on her equally garish room key. She slid the key into the lock and pushed the door in with a gleeful squeak of anticipation. She couldn’t wait to see what was on the other side.

  Paper origami lamps bobbed and weaved to the soft breeze floating in through an open window. A pearl hue painted a damask pattern that laced across the violet walls and shimmered where the light hit, creating an optical illusion.

  A large oriental throw rug comprised of a vibrant array of blues and sparkling copper adorned the freshly polished cherry wood floor. At the center of the room was a bed fit for a Queen. Marie dove under the covers and exhaled a blissful sigh. The gossamer sheets smelled of lilacs and were as soft as flower petals.

  Across the room, built into a raised platform of striking cyan marble was a large golden tub. Its smooth curves were just begging to be explored! Marie squealed with delight as she made a beeline for the tub, stripping her clothes off along the way. The second her knees hit the platform, text appeared on a small computerized screen mounted above the faucet.

  Would you like to take a bath?

  “Wow. Talk about fancy! Hm...How do I choose yes?” Marie bit her bottom lip in thought.

  Water or Mud?

  “Mud could be fun!” The apparatus seemed to be voice activated, for the tub began to fill with lukewarm chocolate silk that smelled of honey.

  Marie poured her tired body into the tub and let the decadent warmth wash over her as slowly as molasses. The velvety mixture soothed her burns and sharpened her guilt over Tajana’s death.

  She refused to divulge her injuries to the others, knowing they’d insist on treating her charred flesh. She wanted the burns to leave a grotesque scar, to reflect how ugly she felt on the inside.

  The pain was excruciating, but she’d forced herself to suffer the constant ache as a pathetic attempt at atonement. As if such an inane sentiment would make everything okay. She knew her suffering wouldn’t change what had happened, but it served as a painful reminder that helped ease the ever-present guilt, until now.

  It didn’t feel right to allow herself to relax after she’d just taken an innocent life. Tajana didn’t blame her. Cayden didn’t seem to, but knowing that didn’t ease the guilt gripping her heart and haunting her thoughts. Nothing did, because she blamed herself. Marie threw her head back and let out a deep sigh, hoping to expel some of the negativity welling up inside along with it.

  “Will this feeling ever go away?” She hoped to god it did, but knew she deserved no better.

  Marie lazily lolled her head to the side and pressed her tearstained cheek to her shoulder. Her eyes languidly scrolled the nearest wall, searching for an imperfection that marred the serene atmosphere; something that would connect her to her surroundings. Built into the wall was a glass cupboard that contained two wineglasses and two chilled bottles of wine.

  “Perfect,” one corner of her mouth hooked up into a mischievous grin. She needed to numb herself to the incessant chatter screaming in her head, at least for one damn night.

  For the sake of propriety, she knew she should use a glass, but that wasn’t the kind of girl she was. She popped off the cork and took a swig straight from the bottle. Warmth spread throughout her body as the cold rush of bubbles worked their magic on her nerves, relaxing her completely. She could go back to hating herself tomorrow. Tonight she needed to relax, or she’d be no good to anyone.

  By the time she polished off the bottle of sparkling white, the mud began to crust and harden, losing its ethereal appeal. Marie abrasively scrubbed a towel over her skin as the tub drained. She was determined to remove every last drop of mud, but it seemed to have bonded to her skin on a molecular level.

  “This stuff is worse than super glue!” Marie stepped off the platform and futilely rubbed her skin raw in a frantic attempt to get clean.

  Would you like to take a water bath?

  “God yes!” Marie sighed.

  Please stand back.

  Marie warily took several steps back and watched the tub expectantly. She nearly jumped when the sides of platform retracted into the floor as the tub raised up and flipped over to reveal an identical underside. The sides of the platform rose and clicked into the tub, holding it in place as a high pressure water hose brushed across the muddy underside, rinsing it clean.

  Please place your hand on the screen to determine optimum water temperature.

  Marie positioned herself haphazardly in the tub, lazily draping her limbs over the cyan marble as she placed her hand flat on the screen. She collapsed onto the side of the tub, melting into the welcoming arc of soft gold. The warm water lapped her supple skin, imbuing her with an instant sense of calm. It truly was perfect.

  The wine she’d drank had been too weak to give her a buzz, but she’d drank just enough to feel drowsy. She began to drift off to sleep, causing her head to suddenly drop forward. The impact of her chin smashing into her collarbone roused her awake as she jerked her body upright with a sharp gasp.

  She wouldn’t be entering the dream world again anytime soon if she had anything to say about it. Marie assimilated herself with her surroundings as she took in every detail of the room. She wasn’t in Sopor. She was safe, for now.

  Images from her nightmare came flooding back, overriding her senses and dissociating her from the present. Cailene’s victims’ anguished screams filled her head, drowning out the rational thoughts that cycled through her mind in a weak attempt to keep her grounded. Flashes of pain ripped the soothing words apart until they fell silent.

  Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the flames devouring Tajana’s body as if she were no more than sheer parchment. In a desperate attempt to purge the memory, she flung her eyes open and stared at her reflection in the water. She searched the hollow blue eyes for forgiveness, but there was none.

  A sweat broke out over Marie’s brow as the tepid water grew angry. It suddenly felt like liquid fire eating away at her flesh. With shaky hands, she plucked the cork from the second bottle of wine and hungrily guzzled it down in an attempt to drown her sorrows.

  Marie never used to drink for the same reason most people seemed to.
Most people seemed to drink to numb themselves; to forget their inhibitions and don an emboldened personality so that they might escape their horribly drab reality, if not for just one night.

  How quickly one night could turn to several. Marie found her answer at the bottom of a bottle all too often these days, and always for the wrong reasons, as if there were any good ones.

  She silenced the fading vestige of her conscience, belligerently shoving it away as she threw her head back and hurled caution to the wind. She chugged the bottle as voraciously as a newborn at its mother’s teat. Her tongue didn’t stop moving until she heard the telltale pop of air, savoring the last drop of delicious red and shuddering from the bitter aftertaste.

  She wrapped a towel around herself and sat on the edge of the tub, shivering. She nearly toppled over when she caught sight of her unfamiliar reflection in the polished gold dresser.

  All rosy cheeked and bright eyed, her glistening ebony locks twisted over her pale complexion and suffused her skin with a subtle glow in contrast. She was beautiful. She had enough alcohol pumping through her veins and devouring her modesty to admit that to herself right now.

  “I guess I should wash these clothes for the billionth time,” Marie grumbled.

  She threw her black silk dress and well-worn undergarments into the remaining soapy water to let them soak. This galaxy was filled with magic and technology that was well beyond Earth’s, but it didn’t have anything as basic as mirrors and undergarments. The irony often made her grumble. If only she’d thought to pack a few things, or knew the right place to look.

  “At least I have time to let them dry for once,” Marie was determined to remain optimistic, so as not to spoil her shallow inebriation. She rinsed her clothes and wrung out the excess water, laying them flat over the windowsill to soak up the meager remnants of sunlight.

 

‹ Prev