by Sarah Noffke
And the mark of Dee and Zack’s fortune will be a curse to mine, of that I’m sure.
Chapter Eleven
Before me a shorter version of myself appears on the cobbled bridge. The orange glow of the setting sun behind Nona casts her in a warm light.
“She agreed to do it?!” I say, throwing my arms around Nona’s shoulders. It feels so healing to have her near after my heartache with Zack.
She hugs me back and then steps away, her eyes hungry to soak in the sights around us. We stand on Charles Bridge in Prague. Street lamps flanking the side of the bridge have just started to flick to life.
“Of course Tutu did,” Nona says, her eyes not on me. “Has she ever once not granted one of our reasonable requests?”
“Not once,” I say with a triumphant smile. If Nona is here dream traveling with me then it’s only because Tutu agreed to wear her sleep bracelet for the night. Nona and I had constructed this plan and I’d been praying to the gods that it would work. It seems they’re finally listening. Tutu will be asleep right now, her sleep bracelet on one wrist and Nona’s on the other. And this allows Nona to dream travel freely for the first time ever. I remembered the first time I was able to go wherever I wanted and see the real world outside Austin Valley. And I remember Rogue’s words: the first time is indeed the best.
Since Nona’s knowledge of geography is limited I chose this location. There’s a rich history to the Czech Republic and to this bridge that was built in 1357. I can hardly fathom something that old, but yet it lies under our feet. I’d had us dream travel to an hour before sunset so Nona could see Prague both during the sunlight hours and also later when it’s sparkling with city lights. The glow of the lights from Old Town reflects off the Vltava River, making it shimmer orange.
Right now the look of wonder dancing across my little sister’s face is a gift. To be here with her as she sees the real world for the first time is enough to heal almost all my pains.
“Come here,” I say and tug her over to the edge of the bridge. One of the many statues that line the bridge stands to our right. I jump up onto the low bridge wall and a sudden gasp jumps out of Nona’s mouth. The fall to the river below is at least three stories, but I’m not going to fall and even if I did I would dream travel to safety before I landed. “Don’t worry. It’s fine,” I say, waving her forward. I take a seat and dangle my feet over the edge of the bridge.
Nona’s initial hesitation disappears at once. She’s an adventurer at heart, but a calculated one. Her eyes brighten with excitement as she takes in my relaxed posture and my legs swinging carelessly.
“Oh, this is the coolest thing ever!” she says and plops down next to me. “Thanks for bringing me here, Em.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” I say, watching Nona study the city.
For Dream Travelers, one of Vider’s cruelest controls is that he doesn’t allow us to freely use our ability to travel through space and time while sleeping. Why more people don’t question his rules continues to baffle me. Maybe it’s because most of the population don’t know what they’re missing. They don’t know that the world outside our borders is beautiful and safe and welcoming. Vider and my father have brainwashed people to think the opposite. And Reverians don’t even know the potentials for travel since geography books are banned in Austin Valley.
“I know you don’t like to talk about him,” I begin, “but how’s Father?”
“Em, I don’t understand you,” Nona says, wrapping the ends of her hair around her finger and then inspecting it. “He tried to have you converted. He’s a part of the administration responsible for injecting kids with cerevitium. Do you not want to face the fact that our father is an evil man not worth your consideration?” Too often my sister talks like this. She doesn’t speak like she’s wise for her age, she speaks wise for any age.
I shrug. “I know who he is and just what he’s capable of,” I say, seeing his piercing stare in my mind’s eye. “But the way others treat me doesn’t dictate the way I treat them.”
“Oh, so are you going to hug President Vider the next time you see him?” Nona says, with a grin.
My mind flashes to Vider’s creepy hands on me, all greedy and possessing. “Gods no. I’m not going out of my way to be nice to him. But I maimed our father with fire, so yes, I do feel I should show him consideration.”
“He deserved it,” Nona says. “He was trying to have you killed.”
“Nona, you won’t understand unless you perform an act of violence against someone, which I hope you never have to do. It isn’t easy and even if it’s for self-defense the act stays with you.” The boy I killed in the labs continues to haunt my sleeping dreams. I was saving Rogue but the memory of killing Maurice lives in my being.
Nona sighs with defeat. “Fine. I’ll tell you about our demon father if it will make you feel better, although I think it won’t,” she says. “Father has changed since you burned him. His vanity can’t handle the transformation in his appearance.”
I had spied Father from an alley where I stood a month ago. He was walking to his office, Dee beside him as she always is. Long burn scars covered his face now, partially obstructing the vision of one of his blue eyes. His blond hair now grows in patches on his scalp but somehow he has enough of it to slick it back and in that respect almost appears normal. But I knew by the haunch of his shoulders he wasn’t his old self. He cowered as he walked, his face down, like he was ashamed to hold his chin up high.
“He’s working a lot more these days,” Nona continues. “I think what’s mostly keeping him going is the Vice Presidency.”
It has been only a couple of days since Zack and Dee became engaged and already everyone knows about it and the Vice Presidency. The wedding is this weekend. My father’s inauguration into his new position is on Monday. It is all happening too fast. Too fast for me to stop. Too fast for me to handle.
“He dotes on Dee more too,” Nona says, bitterness making her words sound hot. “He’s already talking about the children he demands she have as soon as she’s married. It’s sick. The whole thing is sick. He’s consumed with the idea of the marriage speaking to his family’s fortune and good health. And father doesn’t want Dee working after she and Zack are married but says she’ll have plenty to do advising Zack on his role. It’s like he’s breeding some sort of nepotistic administration. And watching the whole thing literally feels like punishment. The only part that keeps me sane is that I know Zack is playing them all. I can’t believe he has them all fooled.”
“So you now believe that Zack isn’t a traitor?”
“Yes,” she says through a heavy breath. “Our family only sees what they want to but when I’ve visited father at his office I’ve seen Zack. He’s always listening and gathering information, looking to be doing one job, but I see his head spinning like he’s keeping an eye out for a new strategy for the war.”
“He’s a lot like you Nona, that’s why you recognize it.”
“Yeah,” she says with pride. “And I know he’s not a traitor because he turned over that evidence on the President.”
“Yes, Smith was giddy to get his hands on that.” Just yesterday Zack gave me a file that ties Reverians to the location of each of the children abducted around the country. The ones Vider had kidnapped so he could perform testing on them. It is circumstantial, but with more evidence the case will become stronger. When Zack takes the role as the Chief of Staff he’ll have access to all of that evidence. And although he adamantly disagrees, I think he can still secure enough evidence without taking that position, without marrying Dee. But maybe that’s just a heavy hope of mine. When Zack tells me he needs higher clearance to gain evidence I should just accept it, but how can I when it means he’s going to marry a soulless monster?
I look at Nona and realize she’s been watching me. No telling the various emotions of frustration and heartbreak that have played across my face during the last few moments.
“Where will you go after they�
�re married? It’s too cold for you to stay in the campground,” she says, rolling the end of one of her long curls around her finger again and then bringing it to her mouth and chewing on it. “Do you think Ren would let you stay with him?”
I slap her hand away from her mouth with more force than I intended. “Don’t do that and no freaking way. I’m not sure which one of us, Ren or I, would have a bigger aversion to us being roommates. Can you imagine it?”
She wipes the ends of her hair dry with her shirt and giggles. “I don’t know. I don’t know him like you do, but I think he’s kinda cool.”
“You’re right, you don’t know him well at all.”
She gives me a mischievous grin. Wags her finger at me. “I know you and I think you’ve grown fond of our uncle. He’s as sentimental as Tutu and has the spunk to match. With parents as sinister as ours we prefer the people who give us tough love. It keeps us grounded.”
I smile, thinking of how Tutu always responds when I tell her I love her. “Right back at you, child,” she says. Not once has she ever told me that she loved me directly but I’ve always known her love for me is unconditional. It’s in the way she looks at me. And the way she treats me like I misunderstand my greatness. She always told me growing up that my expectations for myself were too low while Dee’s were too high. “That little entitled brat needs to look in a real mirror one day and see herself for who she is. A blackened soul,” she said of Dee one time after my sister did something especially nasty.
“Hey, Em,” Nona says, her voice a little timid. My little sister has rarely been timid in her life, which makes my stomach instantly drop.
“What, Nona?”
“It’s about Tutu…”
“Tell me!” I demand, grabbing her hand, dozens of worries flocking around my thoughts like birds.
“I can’t,” she says, pulling her hand from mine and staring out at the darkening Prague sky. “She made me promise not to, but she asked me to relay a message to you.”
“Yes?” I say, drawing out the word.
“She needs you to find a way to visit her in our house.”
“What?” Tutu knows better than anyone how incredibly risky that is for me.
Nona nods. “And it needs to be tomorrow.”
Chapter Twelve
Nona and I are kicking our legs against the ancient bricks of Charles Bridge when a guttural scream rocks through my consciousness.
“Did you hear that?” I say, grabbing Nona’s arm.
She squints at me. “No,” she says, shaking her head. “What are you talking about?”
I look around, wondering why the scream sounded like it didn’t echo from the city or the various people on the bridge. It seemed to come from above me, but that isn’t right. “I just heard someone—”
The scream echoes in my head again. This time I recognize it. It’s unmistakably Zack’s voice. “I’ve got to go,” I say in an urgent rush. I press my eyes closed and pull my consciousness out of Prague and back to my body resting in the bed in Zack’s guest room. Ripping the comforter off I sprint out of my room and across the hallway. It’s only when my hand is on the doorknob that I pause. The light in his room is off. All I hear is ragged breathing. His. My mind boggles with why Zack would be screaming. Is someone in there? Maybe I should grab a weapon before storming in.
“No!” he screams with a long groan. “No!”
Without a second thought I rip the door open and bolt into his room. The lights are off. Immediately my eyes scan for an enemy, but all I find is Zack alone, twisted in his bedsheets. He’s breathing fast, sweat matting his hair to his head. He’s sleeping. Having a nightmare. “Pl-pl-please let her go,” he mumbles in his sleep.
I flip on the bedside lamp and then reach out and grab his shoulders, shake him. It takes several seconds of this to rouse him from the nightmare holding his consciousness hostage. “Zack!” I say up close to his face.
He startles, scrambling into a seated position, his eyes blinking open. “Wh-wh-what?”
“It’s okay,” I say, sitting on the bed next to him. “You’re only having a nightmare. It isn’t real.
It’s okay.”
Confusion muddles his expression as he tries to piece together his reality. “Yes…nightmare,” he says, nodding his head. His shaking hand struggles through his chaotic hair. Every one of his blond hairs is out of place. It’s strange to see him disorderly like this. It’s rare. His crinkled shirt is twisted around his torso and red creases mark his face. Ragged breaths make his chest rise and fall rapidly.
“It’s okay,” I say again, realizing that whatever he was dreaming about is still playing across his consciousness. Haunting him.
Zack is perched on the edge of the bed and regarding me with a look of bemused astonishment. “Relax,” I say, grabbing his hand and pulling him more onto the bed. “Tell me what you dreamed about that spooked you so much.”
He pulls his hand from mine and shakes his head. Laying his head in his hands, he tries to steady his breathing. Finally he flips his head up and stares at me. “Did I wake you up?”
“Well, I wasn’t sleeping. I was dream traveling with Nona,” I say.
“But I pulled you out of it,” he states. “I’m sorry. Was that Nona’s first free dream travel?”
I nod, which sends Zack straight to his feet, where he begins pacing.
“Zack, what is it? What was the nightmare about?”
He shakes his head as he walks to the window and stands there, his back to me. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Who was the ‘she’ from your nightmare that you were begging to be let go?” I ask. I probably shouldn’t force him to talk about it, but I ask anyway. There’s a lot that Zack isn’t telling me. More so than usual. Each night after getting home the past few days, he’s looked at me with a new regret in his eyes. He spends his extra time at his parents’ house, something he never did before. He avoids me lately, or so it feels like.
Zack turns and looks at me. It’s so strange to see him standing in his wrinkled pajamas like we’ve just had one of our slumber parties from a decade ago, but now we’re all full of hurts, the innocence of our childhood ripped away.
“You don’t know?” he asks, looking at me bewildered.
“Why would I know the girls in your nightmares? Was it your mother? Was it Dee?”
He trudges over to the bed where I sit and presses both his hands on either side of me on the comforter, leaning down so that he’s only a few inches from my face. “It was you, Em. How do you not know you’re the girl in my nightmares?”
I stare at him. Swallow hard. Don’t respond.
“I dreamed that Vider took you away from me,” Zack continues, his words coated with heavy misery. “That he converted you. Changed you.”
I straighten. I’m unable to look anywhere else but Zack’s eyes, although all I want is to look away from him. A rapid chill knits up my back and then the stupidest thing I can think of falls out of my mouth. “Huh?”
Zack watches me, his eyes shifting between each of mine. He’s studying the bewildered expression on my face and I’m studying the thoughts in my brain. And they don’t make sense. Not in my current world.
Zack resigns with a breath. Sits beside me on the bed. “You must know that my greatest fear is that you don’t succeed. That they capture you.”
“I’m an idiot,” I say, pulling my feet onto the bed and crossing them in front of me. “So, no, I don’t know that.”
Zack gives me a confused glare.
“Greatest fear?” I ask with a skeptical glare. “How in the world did I ever finagle my way onto your greatest fears list?” I say, trying and failing to sound light-hearted.
“Em, you’re my best friend. The closest person to me. How in the world do you not know that I care about you more than anyone else? Are you intentionally trying to live in denial?”
I shrug, draping my nervous hands in my lap. “I just figured that with all the stuff you have at work I was th
e least of your concerns.”
He closes his eyes for a half beat and then looks at me with sincere annoyance. “Right, I’m so enamored by the robotic Reverians I work with,” Zack says, his words dripping with sarcasm, something he never uses. “Why in the hell would I consume my thoughts with the girl risking every waking moment to save a population of people who have rejected her her entire life?”
I bristle and make to move off the bed, but Zack reaches out for me. Grabs my hand. “Don’t go,” he says, and I bring my eyes to his to find something I wasn’t expecting. A sincere desire. It looks all wrong on his face, and also too perfect. I want to run and hide and also wrap my arms around him and hold him to me. He is my Zack anyway. He’s my best friend and in being that, I’ve always felt possessive of him, but after his engagement I’ve resented him without knowing why. I know he’s doing it for the war cause, but it still doesn’t justify it. And I don’t know why. Can’t articulate it.
Finally, after battling with a dozen emotions, I fling myself back onto his other pillow. “Fine, I’ll stay a minute more, but be sure to have this bed thoroughly cleaned. Dee will freak if she finds one of my long blonde hairs here.”
Zack cringes, his shoulders almost meeting his ears, like he’s having a waking nightmare.
“What? What is it?” I say, pressing forward, placing my hand on his.
“I just can’t stomach the idea of sharing a bed with her,” he says, and leans back on his own side, a miserable expression on his face.
I lie back next to him and strangely find I’m closer to his side of the bed. It must have been the angle I lay back at, but I don’t want to move away now that I lie inches from Zack’s face, hovering beside mine. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to marry her. We can still find a way out for you.”