The Dark Materials

by Amanda Churi

  “Nothing,” she growled.

  “Then why take child of black magic into your palace?! Why make her kill people who have no done wrong?!”

  Lucy couldn’t help but laugh. He wanted to play this game? Fine. His irrational reasoning certainly amused her. “What makes you think that I am the only antagonist?” she put forth. “How do you know it not be Kevin?”

  “Because he only try to help,” he reasoned, his words beginning to run together as his acrimony intensified. “¿Tú? You do nothing—just stay in castle and think of ways to kill us.”

  “But I couldn’t do it without Kevin,” she sneered. “He is the one who wanted that child; I had no interest in her sick traits. He wanted you to trust him…” Twirling her wrist, she picked up the empty glass with her thin fingers, swinging it like a pendulum in front of his face. “Men aren’t smart… You trust the first hand that gives you good grace.”

  Her muscles tensed, and out of fury, she suddenly chucked the cup at his face, the man hardly dropping down in time to avoid getting struck. The glass exploded against the barrels built into the back wall, shards of all sizes flying across the room and covering the floor.

  Dumbfounded, the man cautiously raised his head and crept up from beneath the counter, moving very slowly to make sure that his crazed queen had no more artillery.

  Lucy chortled, her voice dry and eyes crazed with painful memories. “Maybe if men thought with something other than their stomachs or pricks, people would find that this world would be a far better place.”

  Furious, he sprang to his full height, baring his teeth and holding his bunched, shaking fist in front of Lucy’s face, who simply giggled at his futile attempt at intimidation.

  “¡Tú…!” Despite his rage, he made no advance forward. Grunting in outrage, he brought his hand down to his side, storming around the corner of the bar and towards the door, kicking it open and slamming it behind him with such force that nearly all jumped.

  Lucy huffed in achievement, standing up and maneuvering her way behind the counter. Without a care, she whisked an empty glass out from under the bar, thrusting it under the nozzle of the first barrel and filling it to the top until the foam flowed down her malnourished hand. She brought the glass to her lips with much thirst, closing her eyes and tilting her head back, swallowing all contents within the cup with a single chug. She gasped upon finishing her drink, her throat and stomach burning from the strength of the liquor. Without giving it a second thought, she went for round two, yearning to escape everything.

  A lone figure sitting at the far end of the bar watched her down glass after glass with stupefied eyes. Her jawline was sharp, and her knotted, short brown hair curled around her face, nearly hiding her black eyes that tricked all light around her and captured every quintessence that got close.

  She did not move for a moment, taking time to process the situation. Once she decided on a course of action, she stood up and approached the drunkard queen, leaning against the countertop and waiting patiently.

  After what had to be at least her fifth serving, Lucy got the cold shoulder. The woman had not moved an inch since taking her position, so stiff and collected that Lucy had not even noticed her until she bothered to look at something other than her drink.

  “What?” she spat.

  The lady closed a bit more of the distance between the two, arching her neck forward. “It’s a terrible feeling, isn’t it?” she began, her voice distant. “Feeling like the whole world is against you?”

  Confused, Lucy lowered her glass, setting it down in an irritated manner. Her eyes were unusually slick due to the toxins polluting her bloodstream, but alas, even with clouded judgment, she could clearly see the hand of want reaching out of the stranger’s pupils. “Look, I don’t need advice—”

  “No, no, no, that is not what I was doing!” the woman interjected with a wide smile. “I was just making conversation.”

  Lucy picked up her drink, consenting to another long, deep sip before beginning to fill her glass once more. “Yeah, well, I’m not in the mood to talk,” she grumbled, dismissing the peasant’s existence.

  The woman smiled, folding her withered hands and resting her chin atop them. “You know, I have something that would make that a bit more blissful.”

  Interested, Lucy released the spicket, her attention veering back to the woman. She rotated to face her, placing the glass down so that it was within reach of the peasant. Lucy insistently tilted her head in the direction of her drink, waiting to see what the woman meant.

  The lady nodded, reaching down into the pocket of the heavy cloak thrown over her body before pulling out a medium sized, lush green lime. Lucy watched with vexation when she applied pressure to the thick skin of the fruit, breaking it and causing a small stream of juice to trickle into her brew. She pushed the drink back towards the queen, who eagerly took it.

  She did not even hesitate before beginning the taste test. She took a small sip, her brows crossing. “It gives it a weird kick.”

  “It does,” the woman agreed. “Just a bit of juice makes it so much more appealing in my opinion. I always bring one whenever I come here.”

  Not entirely satisfied with her beverage, Lucy lowered her glass and pushed it off to the side. The peasant adopted the lovely brew when she saw that it was unwanted, softly holding it to her lips and taking a small swig of the wondrous rum.

  Lucy stared at her, something about the woman’s face not rubbing her the right way, especially when she noticed that the peasant’s eyes never left hers, even while drinking. Perhaps it was just the alcohol messing with her.

  “I haven’t seen your face in quite a while,” the woman commented, finishing her drink and setting it down.

  “Well, I don’t get out of the castle much,” Lucy mumbled.

  The woman chuckled. “I suppose, but aside from here, I don’t really venture from my home much either.” She licked her finger, running it along the rim of the cup. “You’ve certainly grown up.”

  Lucy blinked, trying to decipher her words.

  The woman’s finger continued to run laps around the framed crystal. “I remember the days that you and Caoimhin used to run about the streets playing knights… When your father would be out working late in the fields and you would come home to sit at my table for a bite of grub.” She chuckled innocently. “Oh, you were practically like a big sister to Griffin, weren’t you? Whenever he stubbed his toe or had his feelings hurt, you would beat me to him!”

  Lucy took a step back, the fragmented memories of her past resurrected in a snap. “Anna…?” she said with a gasp, her skin crawling within seconds.

  She smirked in amusement, looking Lucy straight in the eye. “Took you a bit, didn’t it? What did I tell you about drinking?” She snorted, rolling her eyes and slightly leaning back. “I mean, I’m one to talk, but I already screwed my life up; I at least hoped to be a good influence on you little pupils.”

  Lucy’s face gnarled in disbelief. “A good influence…?”

  “Well, I was, wasn’t I?” She burped loudly, laughing afterward. “Whoa! That’s got a good delay, doesn’t it?”

  The queen did not find her to be funny in the slightest. Maybe she and Kevin were losing their way, but it could never overshadow what Anna had done to him. “I thought you would’ve been long gone…”

  Anna snickered. “Surprised?”

  “You don’t belong here,” Lucy quickly informed her, doing her best to ignore the insane woman’s questions. “You’re not welcome in this town any longer.”

  A challenging glint flashed in Anna’s eye. “I was never banished,” she reminded her smugly. “I was only thought of to be a bit… Loose.” She scoffed, smiling with pride as she glanced around at the village that was quickly becoming the victim of ruin. “I’ll tell you what, though; I think I’m quite well off compared to everyone else right about now, hm?”

  “Anna…” Lucy growled threateningly. “You need to leave.”

  “Y
ou can’t make me,” Anna hissed, pushing her shoulders back so that she looked her opponent straight in the eye. “I underestimated what Caoimhin could do, I will give him that, but no matter how long it has been, I would never forget the face of my son—”

  “The son who you let be burned at the stake!”

  “You would do the same for the sake of your family!” Anna argued. “After all, you weren’t in any rush to help your stolen girl!”

  Lucy ground her teeth together, stretching her knuckles as the muscles in her arms began to tremble. “But I would never kill my own child!” she cried arrogantly, and before she knew it, her fist had implanted itself square in Anna’s jaw—a glorious smile of satisfaction tracing Lucy’s lips as Anna was thrown to the ground on her back.

  The few inhabitants of the pub stopped what they were doing, staring at their queen with disbelief. There was not a sound to be heard besides Lucy’s heavy breathing as she stared down the aging woman. Anna certainly had not expected that much anger from the young lady—a young girl who she could remember bawling her eyes out when she fell or went without food, now letting her emotions run free in the form of violence.

  She liked what she saw.

  Anna grinned mischievously, slowly getting to her feet as she eyed up her unofficial daughter-in-law. She hobbled back towards the counter, refusing to back down. “Are you sure?” she coughed through a winded grunt, though her frightening smile never waned.

  “What?” Lucy snarled.

  “That you would never harm your family to save yourself or those you love? If getting rid of one bad seed ensured survival?” She pressed her gut to the bar, slowly leaning forward. “I think you would.”

  “You think wrong…” Lucy growled, standing her ground.

  Anna shook her head. “No, I don’t.” She motioned towards Lucy’s flat stomach. “Two children, Lucy… One lost at birth and the other through a miscarriage… I certainly wouldn’t keep a man who only pretends to hold your hand around—he obviously doesn’t care if you have to come here to drink away your worries.”

  Lucy refused to answer, her eyes taking an interest in the floor.

  “Dear,” Anna pressed, her voice becoming soft, “I don’t know anything about you or my son now, other than what I see in your eyes. I see the agony… I sense the false love that he presents to you—love that you bought but are finally beginning to see through. De Vaux’s are strong, Lucy. Perhaps not by blood, but I can tell that you are a de Vaux by your strength inside.” She inched her hand across the bar, grabbing Lucy’s, which had run cold. Lucy lifted her head in despair, gorging her words. “And de Vaux’s?” Anna urged on. “If we don’t like something, we make sure it’s fixed.”

  Lucy swallowed hard. She found herself struggling to get a firm grasp on the situation, but the longer she thought about it, the more she realized the truth in Anna’s words. Kevin left her to protect some child… She didn’t stop him because she thought she loved him, but he didn’t love her enough to stay around. She wasn’t his top priority, Eero was. Even now, Daisy stood higher than herself. She was nothing more than an object that he crawled back to whenever he felt need be.

  “What do I do…?” Lucy whispered, Depression parting its jaws and biting down on her heart, injecting her with pity and the cry for self-worth.

  Anna patted her shoulder affectionately. “If you desire to be looked at as noble and strong, there is a way to do so… Something simple that can make all of your troubles go away…”

  “Tell me,” Lucy hissed, her lips folding into an enraged scowl.

  Anna raised Lucy’s chin, making Lucy look her square in the eye as the poison in their eyes joined together and gave birth to a ferocious storm. “You can be ruler… You don’t have to be that swine’s shadow and prop. You can have it all, with no evidence of your traitorous family to badger you any longer. I want to make a deal… My peace of mind for yours.

  “I can’t get close to the palace, but you can infiltrate it at the core. Furthermore, you can see that the townsfolk don’t trust you, but I can roam where I so please.” She tightened her fingers on Lucy’s. “Your daughter has to come back sooner or later; Cecil can’t keep her out in the woods forever, and when she comes venturing back…” She reached into her pocket with her free hand, setting a twisted, rusted blade on the counter next to them. Lucy’s eyes exploded with shock. “I will be waiting for her…” Anna promised. “Every day… Every night… Until I get her.”

  “…And your conditions?” Lucy asked, drowning the good morals that she had tried to live by for so long.

  “You kill my son,” Anna informed her, pushing the blade in her direction. “I don’t want anything other than the satisfaction of knowing that he is gone forever… His escape made me look like a fool… Thwarted with my brain, and eventually, Griffin left because of my insanity.” Her eyes narrowed. “Swear on this blade to finish my job, and I will relieve you of your debts. Deal?”

  Lucy exhaled heavily. She could take power herself… And what did she have to lose? What family did she have left? What joys in living? She had trapped herself in a ring of fire, but she was not screaming to get out. She was claiming the flames as her own, bringing them higher and incinerating all who tried to drag her out—especially Kevin. The flames spared him once, but they would not this time…

  With a sick, twisted smile, Lucy’s hand fell onto the blade. “Deal.”

  Twenty-nine

  The Transparent

  The first digits of the clock hardly changed; it was only a few hours since the quest began, and already, the stakes were growing as darkness descended.

  “Night is going to be the most dangerous time for you…” Justus warned Laelia as he sat in his chair in the control room. Many monitors surrounded him and smothered the walls, Embry sitting to the left of her master and Virgil to the right. A control panel was laid out in front of them—one so vast and cluttered that I did not know how they possibly told one switch apart from the next. A microphone was buried in the crook of Justus’ chin and lip, a headset sitting firmly around his ears so that he heard every sound possible, even though we could hear roughly as much through the video.

  Our eyes could not part from the humungous screen mounted on the concrete in front of us. Data of any and every type hugged the corners of the powerful computer screen, but front and center was a live streaming video showing us every inch of what Laelia could see as she continued to venture into the heart of the enemy.

  The minions of Lord Gannon did not roam the castle aimlessly; they always seemed to be in a rush, making sure they were present at their destined location well before the final second ticked by. Thankfully, having the identity of a lower ranking Haxor, Laelia mainly took watch, much like what she was about to do. All that we had seen were hallways of ice, metal, and snow, but even so, the evil ambiance surrounding the stronghold was enough to mentally cripple us, especially when we thought of what was to come as she headed deeper into enemy lands.

  She climbed a flight of steep stairs, her feet trudging through the thick, afflicted snow. She kept one hand on the thick bar of ice that acted as a rail, a downpour of large, heavy snowflakes plummeting around her as she made her way to the outer walls of the fortress. Several Haxors similar in rank to Laelia flocked her both ahead and behind. She said nothing as she went to take her place for the evening, the steps emerging onto the rooftop of the castle. She peeled left once being presented to the open air, following her comrades obediently as one by one they lined the peaks so that they could see anyone who drew close to the fortress.

  Justus watched the screen closely. “Halt,” he said briskly, Laelia immediately bringing her feet together. She was silent, focusing on those before her, who had brought their march to an end as well.

  “Right face.” Almost simultaneously, Laelia whipped her body to face the world beyond the walls. “Fall into attention,” Justus continued, Laelia doing whatever he said without hesitation. She kept her head high and pushed her
shoulders back, whisking her gun over her shoulder and drawing it against her chest.

  More silence.

  Justus exhaled in relief, leaning back in his seat. “Ey, alright, you should be safe for now. You have night watch, and this is the time that you may use for sleeping.”

  “Why can’t I just sleep during the day like the others will?” Laelia asked quietly, making sure that no one could hear her, even though the powerful tempest atop the towers would mask a bloody scream.

  “You are female,” Virgil answered instead. “If you went to sleep, they most certainly would take note of your sex with the absence of armor.”

  “I could sleep with it on,” she argued.

  “And that wouldn’t be suspicious?” Virgil countered.

  Laelia grunted in defeat.

  “Exactly. Besides, day is when things are most active. You are getting closer to the center of the empire, and no doubt, that is where most of the secrets are held; you will need to be stealthy during the day if we are to succeed, but the night is when you must regain your strength.”

  “Go ahead and press the lock button, Avenger,” Justus commanded.

  The agonizing pitch of claws on metal made the speakers crackle as Sybil scampered around inside the shell of armor. “Where is it?” she squeaked.

  Virgil scoffed. “Should be right in front of your face.”

  “…Ooh! Ok, I found it!” She pressed the button, and instantaneously, multiple clicks echoed throughout the room.

  “Alright, your suit is both locked in place and to the ground,” Justus said. “This way, you can sleep and move around a bit without it looking like you have shifted from your form.”

  “But I have to sleep standing up?” Laelia pouted. “What am I, a horse?”

  “A horse tis the noblest of creatures,” Embry elucidated in a sing-song voice. “A heart in such a steed does not simply tick by, but rather, it gallops through the oceans of virtue as if—”

  “Please, shut up, Embry,” Laelia growled. “I get it.”