The Agrista (Between the Lines Book 1)

by Shannon Lamb

  “Before we make our descent, I’d like to take a moment to remind everyone that while others can’t see us, they can still hear and feel us. We are not untouchable, so be on your guard and don’t get careless.” So much for words of encouragement from their all-assuming leader. “We’ll be infiltrating the castle through the ventilation system. Brace yourselves.”

  The rush of relief Marie felt over learning that they weren’t going in through the sewers was quickly overridden by the panic that accompanied their immediate descent toward an open grate. While the other entrances were far riskier, the Baindingu poison was particularly heavy here, making Marie think their precautions were all for naught.

  They forced their way through the thick haze of poison, desperately hoping that refuge lie just around the bend at each twist and turn. When they finally emerged through a loose grate by an abandoned post near the dungeon, the IVs were in full effect. Infragilis venom and Baindingu gas warred within the Umbras’ bloodstream, burning in their veins like acid.

  Cayden was the first to collapse, just outside the rusty grate inside the palace. Because of his prior exposure to the gas, the poison had affected him a great deal more than the others. The first wave of pain sent him crashing to his knees, but Iloria’s pale face alight in his mind quickly brought him to his feet once again. How that woman could love such a weak man, he’d never know, but he was eternally grateful to her for it. He would not fail her now, even in death.

  They soon learned why the post by the grate had been abandoned, in addition to several others nearby. Throngs of guards lined the walls of the dungeon, no happier to be there than Marie was to see them. Their bodies created an impenetrable panoply along the dim corridors; a barricade that would require skillful maneuvering and light of foot to surpass. Both were made impossible by the current of pain rippling through the Umbras’ bodies, stripping them of their lithe sinuosity and graceful carriage.

  One by one, they walked straight into the lion’s den, and one by one, they succumbed to the pain. They collapsed into a heap of writhing limbs as a vast network of plump, gnarled veins branched out along their shuddering hides.

  The searing venom set fire to every last arteriole, beating wildly beneath their taut skin. It slithered along frenzied lines of contracting muscles like an otherworldly being, forcing them to choke down a violent upsurge of twisting viscera.

  The pain was far greater than any of them could anticipate, rendering the Umbra completely inert. It was no longer a matter of if they would get caught, it was a matter of when.

  Fortunately, Cerin was always prepared, but this particular backup plan was contingent on precise timing and his younger sister’s aim. He might have a child’s body and a pitcher’s arm, but he had the failing eyes of a middle-aged man.

  Cerin cringed as he slipped a crinkly piece of paper from his satchel, thankful for the compilation of assorted noises, obscuring his less than subtle movements. He poured a vial of lavender powder into the center of the paper and intricately folded it several times over, his nimble fingers working in conjunction with the rhythmic ebb and flow of the prison.

  “How’s your aim?” he whispered softly to Marie.

  My aim? Why? She didn’t need to speak. Her face said it all.

  She’s right-handed, he astutely observed, prying her right arm away from her side and putting three small stones into her shaking hand.

  She avidly shook her head as he eyed the stones in her hand and pointed to the folded up piece of paper with a devilish grin. Marie was right to be nervous. There were countless variables and a low potential for success, but through the simple power of deduction, Cerin knew with absolute certainty that it was their only option. Risk failure, or get caught. The choice was obvious. At least this way they had a chance.

  With an apologetic shrug, he thrust the paper into the air and slapped an urging hand against the small of her back. Marie didn’t hesitate, which seemed to come as more of a surprise to her than it did to Cerin.

  The first stone sailed through the bars of a distant cell, rousing the suspicion of the unfortunate recipient as he grumpily surveyed the room. The second stone ricocheted off the brick archway and hit a nearby guard square between the eyes.

  “What was that?” The guard jerked upright, gaping at the seemingly harmless paper ball arching through the air. “What the…”

  Last chance! Marie kissed the stone lodged between her fingertips and sent it soaring through the air, and with it every well-meaning intention and empty promise she could muster up.

  She let out a strangled gasp when the third stone made impact, suppressing her forthcoming glee with a quivering fist pressed tightly to her lips. Whether it be skill, luck, or divine intervention mattered not; whatever her saving grace, it got the stone where it needed to go.

  Everyone braced themselves as a rainstorm of shimmering granules bathed the narrow corridor. Upon inhalation, the queue of soldiers fell unconscious, sinking to their knees and toppling over one by one like a line of poised dominoes. The prisoners unfortunate enough to be in the line of fire suffered a similar fate, but they would be no worse off than the guards when they eventually woke.

  “What did you do to them?” Marie hissed.

  “I used a combination of microscopic magnets and a hefty dose of Amethysia. I’m glad it worked,” Cerin said, surprised. “The magnets were attracted to the soldiers’ armor with considerable draw, forcing them to inhale the Amethysia, which rendered them unconscious. A side effect of Amethysia is short-term amnesia, you see. They won’t remember anything when they wake up. “

  “How long will they be out?” Fallon asked dryly.

  “No idea. It varies. It could be five minutes or five hours. I can, however, guarantee that they won’t remember what happened prior to the incident. Not immediately, anyway. By the time that they do, they’ll be far too lethargic to care.”

  “You don’t know that,” Laylia snapped.

  “Granted, I don’t know their specific metabolic properties nor each man’s weight, but when it comes to Amethysia, it matters not. It affects people as surely as poison, and the effects are always the same, though not nearly as grave in comparison.”

  “You’re sure they won’t remember anything when they wake up?” Marie asked anxiously.

  “If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have attempted it.” That was a lie, and they all knew it. “They’ll simply think they fell asleep on the job, and they’ll be too afraid of incurring Cailene’s wrath to admit to it,” he bragged.

  “You hope,” Fallon corrected acerbically. “Our discovery now depends solely on theirs. If someone finds out what happened here…” she trailed off, muttering. “Let’s get going.”

  “Yes, lets,” Johanna agreed softly.

  Marie was in no hurry to pass through the showers, where the sound of running water and screaming were synonymous. However, the considerable lack of desire to linger here filled her with just enough courage to move on.

  STALEMATE

  It took a makeshift tarp and nearly two dozen extra sets of hands to relocate the three unconscious Umbra to Slave Quarters. Even though the IVs had been removed and they were now in their human forms, being dead weight, they felt just as heavy as they did in their Umbraic forms, bordering half a ton.

  “Great Lucidus! What are you doing here?” Agatha blanched at the sight of Marie and her bedraggled companions. “Gah! Lucidus and Vilhant! There’s young maidens and children about!” Agatha clucked her tongue in distaste as she busied herself about the room, searching for something to cover the Umbras’ brazen virility.

  “We have bigger things to worry about than that.” Fallon lasciviously swept her eyes over Cayden’s groin and came away smirking.

  “Don’t you take that tone with me, child. I’ve known you since you were a wee one, and I won’t have you talkin’ to me so,” Agatha wagged a plump finger at Fallon, immediately silencing her. It was nothing short of a miracle.

  “We’re going to fr
ee everyone, Aggie,” Johanna said sweetly.

  “Jo-Johanna! You were free, child! Why would you come back?” Agatha gasped, blinking away a sudden haze of tears.

  “I came back to free everyone. Cailene’s reign of terror is finally coming to an end.” Johanna squared her shoulders and puffed out her chest, reaching up to her full height.

  “Is that so?” Agatha snorted. “How are you motley lot going to defeat Cailene? I’m amazed you even got past her dogs!”

  “Dogs?” Marie immediately envisioned an enormous canine hybrid tearing her to pieces, and desperately tried to shove the image away as she waited for an explanation.

  “It’s what we call the guards. When Cailene came into power, Evangeline’s guards refused to serve her. I’m not sure what happened to most of them, but the lucky ones are dead. The guards she has now are former criminals. She offered them a complete pardon in exchange for their loyalty. They swore themselves to the Queen and are fiercely loyal to her. All the prisoners that fill the cells now are innocent, you see. Cailene locked them away because they didn’t comply with her will, but not one of them did anything wrong,” Johanna explained bitterly.

  “The guards are of no consequence,” said Fallon.

  “You’ve always been arrogant, girl, and it’s always gotten you into trouble. I thought by the time you were an old maid you’d have learned your bloody lesson, but apparently not!” Agatha scowled at Fallon. “Say what you will, but that woman is a force to be reckoned with. They don’t call her the immortal Queen for nothing!”

  “Hold up. What do you mean, immortal Queen?” Marie laughed, somewhat hysterically.

  “She’s not immortal. She just won’t die,” Cerin said matter-of-factly.

  “That’s the very definition of immortal!” hissed Marie.

  “No one is immortal,” Cerin clarified. “We just haven’t figured out how to kill her yet.”

  “There’ve been countless attempts on her life, and every one of ‘em should’ve worked. She still needed time to recover, mind you, but she survived, nonetheless. Every time, for Lucidus’ sake! That woman must’ve hailed from the purple haze of Vilhant itself, I tell you!” Agatha emphatically convulsed.

  “She should’ve been dead long before that, anyway,” Bria added groggily, waking up alongside Cayden and Alex.

  “Kirsten! Anya! Fetch ‘em some clothes!” Agatha barked orders at the nearest serving girls, sending them scrambling about the room in a tizzy.

  “What do you mean?” Marie slowly turned to Bria.

  “Let Alex tell you.” Alex baulked at this. “What? You have to tell her eventually.” Bria shrugged.

  “Tell me what?” Marie demanded.

  “Cailene is an Umbra,” Alex whispered.

  “Your mother, Evangeline’s, to be exact,” Cayden added, imbuing Alex with just enough courage to pontificate his meaning by reminding him he wasn’t alone.

  “She murdered your mother, Evangeline. That’s how she came into power. By all means, she should have died,” Alex raked a nervous hand through his hair. “Their lives are intrinsically linked. Killing one’s creator is no different than committing suicide. We’ve no idea how she survived Evangeline’s death. It goes against everything we know to be true,” Alex rushed through the words, as if delivering them faster would soften the blow. Perhaps if he had delivered them sooner, that would’ve done the trick.

  “When did you plan on telling me all of this?” Marie failed to mask the emotions wriggling beneath her forcibly even tone.

  “It was never the right time.” Alex refused to meet her expectant gaze, but even now, he could feel her glassy eyes boring into him.

  “We’ve been traveling together all this time, and no one could find the right time to tell me? That’s why the subject of my mother has been so taboo,” Marie laughed cruelly. “Oh yes, I noticed. If I had known what we were up against from the beginning, I never would’ve agreed to embark upon this futile conquest! Now I’m in too deep, is that it?” she was close to screaming now, and tersely turned away to mask the crimson flooding her cheeks.

  “Stop being so dramatic. It doesn’t change anything,” said Fallon.

  “It changes everything!”

  “I’m sorry. I thought you knew,” Laylia said softly. “It was foolish of me to assume, though.”

  “Just leave me alone,” Marie said shakily, keeping her back rigid against the backdrop of sympathetic faces. She furrowed into a dusty corner of the room, disguising the immense hurt in her voice with audible congestion.

  “Perhaps I can bring some comfort to our young princess,” the sound of Gustav’s gentle voice dragged Marie back to reality, kicking and screaming. As furious as she was – especially since the truth conceded with Fallon’s harsh sentiment – it didn’t change anything. She was in too deep, and her peoples’ need hadn’t diminished; it had only grown stronger with her presence.

  Marie furiously scrubbed her palm over the swell of her cheeks, wiping away the rolling tears threatening to divulge her vulnerability. She brusquely turned to Gustav, hoping the others wouldn’t notice the slight quiver of her bottom lip as she determinedly pulled it between her teeth.

  “I take it you’re all here to learn more of the Agrísta. I’m overjoyed that you’ve all managed to pull together to fulfill this most daunting task, though I imagine your perilous journey has not been without its tumbles, naturally.” Gustav flashed Marie a sympathetic glance. “I will be more than happy to answer any questions you have, but I’d like a moment alone with Princess Mariella before we begin.” Gustav led Marie into one of the side rooms and promptly closed the door. She was thankful for the excuse to step away. “How are you, my dear?” Gustav took a seat on the floor across from Marie.

  It was a simple question, but she wasn’t ready for it. Its denotation shattered her facade and ripped apart every voluble excuse floating to the surface as they skittered along the tip of her tongue and formed a barrier. She took a deep breath and suppressed the natural inclination to weep endlessly. She felt completely and utterly alone.

  “I’m as good as can be expected,” she said sharply. “Why did you want to talk to me alone?”

  “It seems best. You see, you, my dear child, have a power that your siblings do not possess.” Gustav stood suddenly, and began flouncing about the room.

  “Oh? That’s shocking. I feel like I’m the only one lacking,” she said listlessly.

  “You’ve much to learn, but don’t mistake lack of education for a lack of potential. Most people make that mistake, and it’s a grave one, at that,” he shook his head disapprovingly. “You have the gift of sight. There will come a time, very soon, when you will need to call upon that strength. Only you can end this.”

  “Only I can end this?” she scoffed. “Then you’re all doomed.”

  “Take this seriously, child!” Gustav’s fist driving into the crumbling wood panels forced Marie upright and caught the attention of those poised nearby. “This isn’t a joke!”

  “Sorry,” she mumbled awkwardly.

  When Marie first met Gustav, he seemed kind and gentle, but it seemed something had transpired in the last few months to harden him. It was quite a feat, considering what he’d grown accustomed to living as a palace slave for the past two decades.

  Perhaps he was just as nervous as the rest of them to see everything come to fruition. The suddenness of it had caught Marie off guard herself. She had a gnawing feeling that there was more to it than that, though. There was something lurking beneath the surface of his eerily calm demeanor, waiting for the opportune time to emerge.

  “Inside the Agrísta is a key,” he began.

  “Shouldn’t the others be here for this?” she cast a nervous glance at the door.

  “Please stop interrupting me, and listen,” he instructed coldly in an attempt to quell his impatience. “The Agrísta will lead you to a hidden room. Inside that room lies a monster. You, Mariella, have to be the one to kill it.”

&nb
sp; “Me?” she scrambled away, as if she could escape her fate by simply distancing herself from Gustav. “I’ve never killed anything!”

  “Surely, you knew that Cailene would have to die at the close of this journey, and that there would be casualties along the way. That dagger sheathed in your belt isn’t ornamental, it’s fundamental.”

  “Yeah, I guess. I mean, yes. Yes, I knew that, but I didn’t think I’d have to be the one to do it. I can’t kill someone!” she sputtered, grappling for the right words through the thick haze of shock.

  “Not someone, something,” he corrected.

  “Semantics! Why do I have to be the one to do it?”

  “The monster is no more than a creature of deception. It is not physically strong, but it can exploit a person’s weakness like no other. It exploits the heart of a person, and in doing so, assures their downfall.”

  “I’m not sure I understand…”

  “The monster is nothing more than a physical manifestation of Cailene’s heart. She has given it form and locked it away, so that she might never fall. The monster can take on the form of loved ones lost to death, for it has no form of its own. You, child, have not lost anyone to death. You are the only one who can see the monster for what it really is: the key to Cailene’s mortality. The others are not in a position to see past its lies. Now, let me see your weapon.”

  “Why?” she sharply recoiled. What more did he want from her? A blood pact? A sacrifice? She didn’t trust Gustav quite as easily as the others seemed to.

  “I’ve just finished telling you that you’re our only hope, and you think I’ve intention to harm you?” he quirked a brow, smiling.

  “No,” she flushed from the impact of his candor and slid the knife toward his feet.