by Caroline Wei
Malchin’s hand came at my face, and I flinched away until I realized his touch was gentle. His fingers grasped my chin.
“Alle, do you see this? Look at what you’ve done to yourself. You’re covered in bruises! They hurt you so much, if you had just stayed there you would have gotten beaten to death!”
I lifted my hands away from my eyes and pressed them into the ground to keep them from shaking. I had risked my life, and not only that, I had risked Malchin’s. But worse than all that knowledge was the fact that I had failed—again. For all that trouble, I hadn’t even gotten a daisy for Clarice.
Victoria was suddenly at my side, her cool hands skimming over the wounds on my face. “She needs to rest,” she said.
Malchin got up. “Yes. Please see to it.” Though concerned, his voice was strangled with fury, as a garden is strangled with weeds. It was only when he walked away that I realized he had hurt the infected people out there—when he had previously been unwilling to—to save my life. But whenever he could, he tried not to, though it was difficult in a swarm of raging maniacs. Perhaps the violence had been necessary, or perhaps it hadn’t been—the black and white was blurring into gray right before my eyes.
“Come on,” Victoria said. Her voice was calm, so different from Malchin’s just a moment ago. She laid me down in my original sleeping place, dabbing the bruises on my face with a wet leaf. When she left, my head filled with fog. Through the haze, I looked down at my shirt.
At first, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
Then I rubbed my eyes and the answer was clear.
There was a daisy stuck onto the worn fabric, plastered with tears.
~.~.~.~.~
Of course.
I was feeling better, and my back was against the wall.
I had placed a daisy on the little boy’s grave after I buried him.
The stem was soft and green, the surface peppered with little white hairs. A head decorated with full, simple petals surrounded a baby yellow center. It was a lovely flower and didn’t deserve to be in a place as sullen and terrible as the Cube.
Victoria was using a damp leaf again, patting at my face. My left eye was swollen shut, and I had no doubt it was probably a mottled purple color. Other than that, there were also a thousand little cuts on my neck and shoulders.
“What got into you?” Victoria asked, so quiet I almost missed it at first. One eyebrow was arched, giving me the sense that she thought I was stupid.
I held up the daisy. “This.” I didn’t want to talk about what had happened. My insides would churn with anxiety if I did.
“A flower?”
“Not just any flower. It’s a daisy.” I decided not to tell Victoria about helping Clarice. She’d probably think there was something wrong with me.
One side of Victoria’s lips turned downward. “I can see that. But why would you run out there when you knew what was waiting for you?”
I wasn’t in the mood to describe the certainty I felt for the cure in my hand, but it made me feel like the creators of the Cube had missed something—that I had managed to wrestle one detail from them. And that made me triumphant.
I tried to hold on to that feeling. “You wouldn’t understand.”
If Victoria was the type to roll her eyes, I felt like she would. “Well, it isn’t anyone’s fault that you wanted to be reckless and, frankly, a nincompoop. You’re being unreasonable, and that affects others. Don’t you comprehend that?”
Victoria’s face was chiseled, like a diamond. Her features were hard as she stared at me until I burned with shame. The brief moments of friendship I’d felt with her died like a wet fire.
She got up, taking her poultice with her. My face throbbed without it.
For a few moments, I sat where I was, completely humiliated. Victoria was right. I should have never gone out there, should have never put so much on the line for something so trivial. But then that certainty slammed into me again, as sure and right as a tidal wave. I was going to test my theory. If the daisy wouldn’t heal Clarice, then fine. I would be wrong.
Yet somehow, I was sure I wasn’t.
Taking my flower with me, I padded to Clarice’s room. She’d gotten quieter but would still screech something every once in a while. Now, she was as close as she could get to the fire in the corner with her bound wrists.
When I walked in, she didn’t so much as flinch.
“Hi, Clarice,” I said, because I knew my friend was in there somewhere. Her hair was tangled, but it was still that pretty straw color. Her freckles danced in the light of the fire, golden sparkles intertwined in a carefree dance.
Clarice twitched her face in my direction, and I caught a flash of her eyes.
I held out the daisy, my hand trembling a little. “Open your mouth.”
She hissed at me, and I shrank back.
“She won’t listen to you.”
Malchin stood in the doorway, his hands in his pockets. He looked almost bored, but I wasn’t fooled. He was still angry with me.
I was surprised when he crossed the room and put his hands on either side of Clarice’s face. She snarled at him, saliva hanging in ropes from her mouth.
“Go on,” Malchin said. “She will start yelling eventually. Just wait until she does, and then put the daisy in her mouth. We’ll see what happens.”
I set my mouth and waited. Sure enough, by the time two minutes had ended, Clarice started wailing like there was no tomorrow. Her lips stretched wide until I could see her tonsils, and I took the chance to stuff the daisy inside, snatching my fingers away at the last second.
Clarice’s howl was cut off, and she gagged for a moment before her throat bobbed instinctively. Then she started screaming.
“See,” Malchin said, letting go of Clarice’s face. His voice was dry. “Nothing.”
Clarice collapsed onto the floor, hacking. I stepped back, not knowing what to feel. Where had I gone wrong?
Suddenly, she stilled, her breaths coming in choking gasps. She pushed herself up, and for the first time, I saw a clarity in her eyes.
“Alle...?”
I saw Malchin’s mouth drop open before I rushed at Clarice.
“You’re back! Clarice, you’re—you’re really—”
“I’m so sorry.” She rubbed at her skull, wincing. “The past couple days are a blur.”
I tightened my arms around my friend. “Don’t you worry about it,” I said, smoothing back her hair. I couldn’t believe she was herself again. “You remember the things that came out of the sky, right? They grew legs?”
Clarice nodded. “One got me on my arm.” She looked down at the puncture wounds, but I saw that they were slowly healing. Even now, her skin was knitting together, forming scabs.
“Right, well, whenever they stabbed you, you turned crazy. That’s what happened.”
“You didn’t think I’d stay under for long, did you? I’m not a baby.”
“I was afraid you’d keep being crazy.”
She scoffed. “Mhm, so what’s the difference between then and now?”
I laughed, and eventually she joined in, the skin around her eyes crinkling just slightly.
Malchin helped me untie Clarice, and when she’d left the room to go explore the tunnels and find Victoria, he turned to me.
“I’m sorry,” he said. His expression was still shocked. “For not believing you.”
I smiled, because there was no way I could be mad anymore after what had just happened. “That’s okay.” I could see now, with sparkling transparency, that Malchin was kind and wise. He wanted to protect everyone he could, and that included the grandfather we had been fighting off eons ago. He wanted to protect me, too.
“Though I’m still not sure how you knew it was a daisy, of all things.”
This was more troubling. “Actually, I’m not sure either. As far as I know, my...memory told me. I just listened.”
Malchin tilted his head. “I’ll accept it for now.”
�
�And I’m sorry, too, for...ah...not listening to you and going outside. I was going to get a daisy anyway, but I could have thought out a better tactic.”
My words were turning into mumbles, and I only realized how quiet it was until I looked up and saw the way Malchin was looking at me.
He crossed the room in two strides and suddenly his face was so close to mine I could bump his nose if I wanted to. His hands grasped my elbows, and heat spread through my body.
“I never want to lose you,” he said, his voice a low rumble in his chest. He pressed his lips into my hair, and a 10.0 earthquake shattered my limbs. “Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it for you. Anything at all, you’ve only to ask. I would give you the sky. The sea.” He breathed in, and I shivered. “My life.”
Then Malchin stepped away, and I was distinctly aware of every contour of his muscles, every curve of his cheekbones—of his strong jaw and his broad back and his smiling face.
I saw the boy who caught me when I fell from terrible heights, the boy who dragged me to safety, the boy who came after me even when he was angry with me.
Before I could recover enough to reach out to him, Malchin gave me a last look and left the room.
I sank down to the floor and held my stomach. There was so much warmth inside me that the fire burning in the corner could never hope to compete.
11
OLIVER
I never told anyone what had happened one time when my family was visiting the Niveus palace. It was back when Father was well and strong, and I remembered stepping off the jet, taking in the high-class, glossy buildings that were privileged enough to be standing in the nuclei of the country. A few civilians walked about, carrying briefcases and trying to avoid nosy patrols. They were wrapped in bountiful colors, all different ethnicities, huddling into themselves for warmth. I remembered how much better fed they looked than the citizens back in Caesitas.
When we walked into the palace, a breath of air that seemed colder than outside hit me. It was luxurious and terrible, a comfortable ice cube. The Grand Hall was one continuous corridor, lined with tapestries, with rooms branching off to the sides. The ballroom was the first right, the library the second, and the music room was the first left.
I was maybe nine years old and awed by such splendor. The ceiling arched high above me, much higher than the one at home, and it was trimmed with silver and layered with crystals so that the light coming in through the windows reflected in a million different ways.
Straight ahead were double staircases, hugging a white banner that bore a gigantic blue snowflake, the national symbol of Niveus.
Queen Carlen hadn’t been bothered to greet us herself. Mom hadn’t said anything against her, but I could tell she was irked. It was only courtesy to welcome your guests into your home, but I supposed since Carlen was the wealthiest woman in the world, that was excused.
At least she had allowed us to bring some of our own guards. Father didn’t trust her. To a nine-year-old mind, he had explained that it was because the queen wanted our land.
Why? I remembered thinking. Why would she want it? Our people are poor and starving and anyways, what we have couldn’t be counted as land.
Carlen’s servants escorted us to a place they called the Parlor. It was where she met with all of her guests, they said.
I was in an itchy uniform. Father had insisted I be dressed like a true prince, and every detail about me would have been pristine if he didn’t reach down and mess up my hair every few minutes. Mom said it was his way of showing fondness.
The Parlor was the size of my parents’ room back in Caesitas, except much more glamorous. I’d never seen so many chandeliers in one place.
Queen Carlen was sitting on one of the sofas but rose when we entered. She was younger then, but it was after the death of her husband. No one ever found out what happened when he died, but it completely changed her.
My parents accepted glasses of wine, but the queen didn’t ask if I wanted anything. I was sulking in my spot, listening to them talk.
“I’m willing to offer a generous amount of money in exchange for Caesitas,” Carlen said. Her dress was the color of doves.
“All of it?” Father sputtered. His cheeks were red. “You expect me to hand over my country?”
“Well, you’re in need, Wilbur. It would be ridiculous of you to turn me down.” She said it like she was stating the most known fact in the world. I focused on her hair. It was blonde and might have been pretty—thick, natural, like Mom’s—but instead, it was in a tight, plasticky coil on her head. It refused to move, even when she did.
“I’m sorry, Carlen, but that’s not possible,” Mom said, her voice soft as butterfly wings. “We understand that you won’t be able to live in the South Pole for long. After all, it’s—”
“You don’t know anything,” the queen said. Her hair was like a separate part of her body. I wondered if I were to walk over and pluck it off, would there just be bald skin underneath? “I have my reasons, and it’s not your job to prod at them.”
“It’s alright.” Mom meant to be soothing, I’m sure, but it didn’t turn out that way. “We know what’s happening. Your people will have nowhere to go once the ice melts, so we can give you some of our land as a place for you to take shelter. We’ll also offer any food or materials we can spare to the refugees, and to you, of course. We don’t have much, but it will be better than noth—”
“That’s enough,” Carlen snapped. “You are not in a position to bargain with me, dear.” Father’s face turned a darker shade of scarlet, but the queen waved him off with a flick of her hand. “Neither are you. Do you know what I have? What I could do in a heartbeat? The power lies not with Caesitas, nor indeed, with the rest of the world, but with me.” Carlen tilted her head and smiled, and I gawked as her hair literally stayed still. Not even the slightest shake. “Forgive me,” she said after a little pause. “I’m afraid I got a little out of hand there.”
Father’s fingers were about to break his glass, judging by how hard he was squeezing it. Mom was patting his arm.
“My offer still stands. A large payment for all of Caesitas. I am sure you will come around.”
“No,” Father said thunderously. “We will never yield. Your pride will come and get you one day, Carlen. There will be no need for power or money or grandeur.” He spat each of the words. “You will destroy yourself.”
I’d never seen Father that angry before, not even when I had directly disobeyed one of his orders. Mom’s sun-tanned complexion was leached of color, as pale as the queen’s dress.
Carlen rose. “Is that so.”
Father stood up too, and Mom leaned in towards me, her expression worried. “We’re leaving soon, Oliver,” she whispered in my ear.
“You know I tell you the truth, Carlen. Soon you’ll be queen of nothing.”
“Please excuse yourselves.” Her voice was as monotone as a robot’s.
“Fine!” Father yelled. He stormed towards the door, and Mom hurried after him, her skirts swishing. I guess they both expected me to follow, but I didn’t. I was fascinated with this lady with the dead hair. Instead, I scurried to one of the curtains by the window, my chest low to the floor. Within a couple steps, I was well hidden because I was so small.
As soon as my parents left the room, Carlen screamed.
It was the most terrible sound I’d ever heard in all my nine years of life. It ripped out of her throat, guttural and raw, like an animal. Her hands were curled at her sides, shaking with fury. She whirled and knocked a table over, and then picked up a vase and threw it against the wall. Shattering and crashing assaulted my ears until I clamped my hands over them.
Carlen also ripped curtains from where they hung, and I was so afraid she would find me my knees started shaking. But she didn’t come to my curtain. Instead, she collapsed onto a sofa, her forehead resting on one hand.
The door opened uncertainly after a few minutes of silence, and a maid with short hair and glass
es poked her head in.
“Your Majesty?”
“Come here, Amanda.”
The maid’s lips quivered, but she bit them so they wouldn’t. When she walked, I admired her confidence, though it was a facade that was about to be ripped in half.
“Do you enjoy serving your queen, Amanda?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“You want to do it for the rest of your life?”
“Ah…I—uh—”
“Well, do you?” Carlen lifted her head, and I could only imagine what being under her glare felt like. “Do you not have a fervor for serving Niveus, Amanda?”
“Y-yes, of course, my queen.”
“Good.” She reached into her skirts and held out something sparkly. A diamond, I realized, no bigger than a pinky nail. “I want you to eat this.”
Amanda’s mouth opened, then closed. “I’m...sorry?”
“What did you say?”
The maid looked close to tears. She must have regretted entering the room at all. “I said I’m sorry.”
“No, before that.”
“My queen?”
“That’s right. I am your queen and you shall do as I say. And this is what I say: put this diamond on your tongue and swallow it. Now.”
Amanda took the diamond from the queen, her hand trembling. “Um…”
What resolve Carlen had dissipated. “I told you to eat something, and you disobeyed me! Now EAT IT! IMMEDIATELY!” The chandeliers above their heads shook at the sound of her roar.
Amanda squeezed her eyes shut and stuffed the jewel in her mouth. I peeked out from my curtain, a hundred different kinds of confused.
“Good.” Carlen sounded satisfied. “Just for a little test, dear. Punch yourself.”
She didn’t even have time to react before her own fist came crashing into her nose. Blood poured onto the floor, and Amanda whimpered.
“Do it again.”
I closed my eyes, not wanting to see, and heard Amanda yelp.
“Perhaps that will teach you not to intrude on your mistress when she wishes not to be disturbed.” I opened my eyes again to see Carlen as collected as she was with my parents. “Congratulations. You’ve joined the ranks of Niveus’ most faithful subjects.”