The Amnesia Experiment: A Young Adult Dystopian Novel

by Caroline Wei

  “That’s what you think?” I asked, reaching up a hand to brush his cheek as the lights blurred above us. “Oliver is just a friend now, Malchin. If I’m choosing anyone, it’s you.”

  He stared at me, missing a step.

  “Who else could it be?” I asked.

  Malchin maneuvered us gracefully off the dance floor and into the crowd, backing me up, almost forcefully, against a wall. My brain, my heart, my lungs, everything inside me was going absolutely bonkers. I could feel Malchin’s warm breath on my face.

  “Do you know what happened to my parents?” he asked, the question unexpected. Fear seized me, suddenly.

  “No.”

  “They were poisoned. My sister, too. At least, that’s what it says all over the news. I visited them today, and they’re so far gone, they can’t even respond to—” his voice broke, and his eyes focused on my cheek. I could feel his lashes on my eyebrows. As gently as I could, I wrapped my arms around his waist, trying to comfort him.

  “It’s my mother,” I said, feeling like a traitor.

  “I don’t think she planned for me to survive the Cube,” he whispered. “Actually, I don’t even think she planned for you to survive. It was all an excuse to get rid of two crown heirs at once. Rubrum has the most influence in the world—but not the money. I think Queen Carlen intends to wipe out both me and my family so she can be powerful enough to take over, but how she’s going to go about it without being suspicious is beyond me. Everyone is going to know it was her.”

  Chills ran all up and down my spine, ice sticking its wintry fingers into my vertebrae. Malchin’s words reminded me sharply of my assignment that night—one that Mother had probably already figured out I was immune to. She was going to come for me at any moment and make me eat another one of her terrifying diamonds.

  “That’s why I want to get married quickly,” Malchin said, his hands whispering against my neck. My heart jolted to life. “I need a princess, and later, a queen. I don’t intend for Carlen to win like that. Do you know who it’s going to be?”

  I felt drunk.

  Malchin pressed his lips to mine, and an explosion sounded somewhere in my stomach, light firing through my veins.

  “You,” he breathed. “It’s going to be you.”

  I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t do anything, anything—

  He kissed me again and I felt like a suspended trapeze artist, about to fall. “Just imagine it, Alle. I remember every moment—” His lips went away, then came back. “I remember how beautiful I always thought you were, how we never got a chance to talk, how much I wanted to be in Oliver’s shoes, all the time—”

  Again, his heavenly mouth, and I was falling and doing it way too fast.

  I pushed him away, cheeks flushed. I couldn’t do this, not when I knew that I was meant to be his murderer.

  “I won’t,” I said roughly. I won’t kill you, I refuse to, was the unfinished part of that sentence, but Malchin only looked hurt.

  “Alle,” a permafrost voice said to my right, and my entire body entered paralysis. Cold nails dug into my arm. “My good prince Malchin, what did I expect? The whole world has seen your love story in the Experiment, but my, seeing the drama with my own eyes? It’s a thrill that can never be replaced, I must say.”

  “Mother, please,” I said, hating how broken I sounded. The nails carved deeper into my skin, and I winced.

  “Alle, please,” she spat back, then faced Malchin again, whose face was stormy. “I’m glad to see you’re representing the Rednic name well. What a marvelous thing, a royal face—after all, the people of Rubrum have been hungering after one for a long time. Your family always provided such peace and unity in your—ah—lands.” Mother sniffed when she said it, her nose crinkling.

  Malchin was thunderous when he shoved himself so close to Mother it was borderline disrespectful. He was taller than her, but Mother didn’t seem at all fazed.

  “How dare you speak about them like that,” he said. His eyes slipped to my marked arm, but not to my gaze. “Let Alle go, you’re hurting her.”

  “She’s my daughter. Not yours. We would hope not, after you so announced your intentions to marry her.”

  I felt the heat leave my face. How much of our conversation had she overheard?

  Malchin was staring at the floor.

  “She does not need to marry me if she doesn’t wish to.”

  Mother spoke before I could, looking disgusted.

  “Young love. Absolutely repulsive. It does not always turn out the way that you planned, young man.” She glared down at me. “Now I’ll deal with you.” She jerked me away, but Malchin caught my wrist.

  “Hold on a second,” he said, suspicion woven into his words. “She’s not—”

  “If you do not release the princess, Rubrum will pay for every minute with blood,” Mother spat, her lips stretched menacingly. “Not to mention your entire family, little Malchin. Don’t forget who’s in control here.”

  Malchin didn’t seem cowed, only angry.

  “You are heartless if you think that I would—”

  A silver knife, faster than light, whizzed across Malchin’s face, leaving a thin line of red. It was quick enough that the drinking guests around us didn’t notice. I gasped and ripped my hand out of Mother’s grasp, using my sleeve to staunch the trickle of blood.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, even though I knew exactly what she was doing. Mother’s eyes narrowed, and her fingers came at me, cold as she tried to pry my lips open, something sparkling in her palm.

  “No!” I screamed. I didn’t care who saw now, there was no way that I was going to do anything to Malchin, not after what he had just told me, not after everything that had been left unsaid. I loved him. I really loved him.

  “Come here, you little brat,” Mother said, her voice harsh and unrecognizable.

  I pushed myself through the crowd, desperate to get away. Mother yanked on my hair, crushing the roses, and before I knew it, I had sprawled face down right onto the empty dance floor, beautiful floral and glacial patterns peering up at me from the crystalline surface.

  53

  Yale

  Oliver stood beside me, pressed and handsome and slightly flushed from his dance with Alle. I so wished that I could approach her and just sit down and talk, but we couldn’t. Alle was a princess and had people to see, things to attend to, far more important than a fireside chat with a friend. All over the ballroom, I could see other maids and manservants, people who loved her and would willingly serve her with all their hearts. I knew Alle had all her memories back, but I doubted she knew how many in the palace actually thought of her as kin.

  “What did she say?” I asked as I watched Alle whirl across the dance floor with Malchin, who was dressed like a true member of the Rednic royal family.

  “It’s over,” Oliver said quietly, like he was commenting on a finished sunrise.

  For some reason, tension remained in my limbs like stretched cords. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch Oliver, to kiss him and hold him, but he still felt like Alle’s. I had seen so much of their childhood together. I had played lookout, watched for trouble, smuggled Alle out.

  I had been there.

  I smoothed out my apron, my tray empty of wine glasses. “Do you need me to get you anything?”

  Oliver shook his head.

  “Yale, stay with me.”

  My heart stuttered. “I can’t, my lord, I’m here with a purpose.” I put extra emphasis on the title of nobility to remind us both what I was—just another maid. It was too dangerous with Carlen in the room somewhere. I hated having to be on my guard all the time now that she was back from the horrible Experiment.

  “I command you to,” Oliver said simply. “I’m a king now, and I’m asking you to stay right where you are and be my companion.”

  I relaxed.

  “Real smooth, Oliver.”

  “I’m not technically your king,
so you didn’t have to obey me, Yale. The fact that you did just tells how much you wanted to.” I stood, shocked, then shook my head and smiled.

  “I’ve realized that I’ve come to the same conclusion as Alle,” Oliver proceeded to say solemnly. Then he turned to me with a playful smirk. “We really have changed, Yale. There could be nothing better for us than to be friends. Not as close as you two, but close enough.” He swept a grandiose bow, one so extravagant I looked around in embarrassment to see if anyone had noticed a monarch inclining his head towards a common servant. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

  “Beg your pardon, but I don’t,” I said, playing along with him.

  “It means that I need to tell you that I’ve started to see you as someone more than just Alle’s friend. You’ve been more than that for a very long time.” He took my hand, probably completely unaware that there was a loose circuit somewhere inside me and I was about to implode. “And this is different. With Alle, it was like...” he paused, searching for the right words. “It was like we were children, drawn to each other because of our similarities. With you, it’s like a choice. My choice. You know, like an eclipse? You have to be in the right place, at the right time, to see it perfectly, and that’s exactly what happened with you and I. We collided in some sort of explosion of pure accident and decision. When I first met you, I could never have known this would happen. And yet, here we are, and I see you perfectly.”

  My heart was in my throat. Prince Malchin was supposed to be the bard, the poet. That was part of his worldwide personality, what everyone, including his fan base, knew about him. Oliver was the musician. I had never expected something that sounded so lovely coming from him, but I was pretty sure I had just heard music in spoken form.

  “I love you,” I whispered, shocked at myself. “I don’t know if you’re going to feel the same way, I don’t know how this is going to work with Alle and all, but I love you, I do.” I tightened my hold on Oliver’s hand. “And you look absolutely dashing today.”

  Oliver’s eyes were soft and suddenly all too close.

  “Not more than you, surely, my lady.”

  The sound of a struggle drew both of our attention to the opposite side of the ballroom, where I could see the flash of a golden skirt as someone fell.

  “Don’t come near me!” came Alle’s desperate voice.

  I recognized that voice. She used it when she was helpless, when she couldn’t stand something happening but knew there was no way out. I often heard that voice when she was trying to defend a servant her mother was about to murder or getting whipped in her own bedroom.

  It never really worked.

  54

  alle

  This had to be the worst feeling in the entire world.

  I was sure I was going to vomit or worse.

  Mother hauled me up by my arms, but I howled and kicked like a feral animal. Nothing mattered now but Malchin’s safety.

  The other courtiers and guests watched from a distance, startled and confused. I could catch a few glimpses of royals from other countries. I recognized the famed, rich brown hair of Queen Ximena, the exotically pale eyes of Queen Mahek, and the broad stature of King Aleksandr. A pang stabbed my heart at the life I had lived before. What I would give for those problems now.

  I shoved Mother away as hard as I could and stumbled up, cursing my dress for being so heavy. At least I wasn’t wearing heels, though I suspected I would soon have to.

  “Alle,” Mother said, her voice venomous, “you wouldn’t dare defy me—”

  “Yes I would!”

  She stood there, regal as any queen, her silver hair blinding in the chandelier light, her glacier eyes flashing. For a moment, I saw Victoria and her tentative smile, I saw Victoria with a leaf poultice and Victoria making dinner and Victoria going around helping children. Then she disappeared and faded into Mother, well-dressed and not even slightly flustered.

  “Who gave you the antidote?” she asked.

  “You must think I’m insane if you believe that I’ll tell you.” I tasted blood in my mouth.

  Emotion broke through Mother’s mask, but only for a fraction of an instant. She started coming at me, faster than I’d anticipated, and I tripped on the hem of my gown, going down. I started crawling backwards, panic screaming in my brain. No one would know what was happening if she gave me a diamond. No one would know anything when I killed Malchin, no one would link this event with the murder. It was too preposterous. The knowledge of potestrine was too contained within Niveus, and I knew with a certainty that it was potestrine in the diamonds. Mother had been developing the artificial chemical for years and years, and though I didn’t know the specifics, I knew potestrine almost always accomplished her political goals.

  My back slammed into a wall. I was underneath the balcony I had stood on not so long ago, and, realizing this, I pushed myself up. All I had to do was make it to the staircase and find enough time to put on my shoes—

  Mother grabbed me by the hair.

  “You disobedient wretch,” she said, her very voice a curse on my existence. Her hand was at my mouth, and I felt the hard edges of the diamond cutting into my lips, cold and hot and cold.

  I saw past Mother, where guards in white were restraining two boys and a redhead. Queen Ximena was walking purposefully towards us but was stopped by two servants, who were shaking their heads.

  NO! Come! I wanted to beg, but I feared opening my mouth.

  At that moment, a grandfather clock somewhere in the room started bonging. My blood turned to ice the moment I realized exactly how many beats it was going to churn out. Ivy started growing in my joints, my muscles turning to granite and crumbling walls.

  Mother stood up, the diamond clattering to the floor. She looked smug.

  “It’s too late,” she said, dismissive.

  I wanted to scream but my jaw had frozen. I saw myself like I wasn’t there, getting up off the floor, walking over to the refreshments table, a robot. The maids there looked at me like I was an animal at a zoo, which was rather accurate. I picked up a steak knife and turned around mechanically, my mind a storm, my own soul pleading with me.

  There was an audible gasp in the room.

  “Princess Alle, what in tarnation do you think you’re doing?” Mother demanded, striding towards me, and helplessness sizzled along my tendons to my stomach. The public struggle with her on the dance floor, in front of so many people, wouldn’t make me look like a victim. It would make Mother look like a protector after what was about to happen.

  Hot tears dripped from my eyes, making salty rivers on my face as I walked towards Malchin. His face relaxed, more and more relieved, as I got closer, but I wanted to yell. Get out of here! I would grab his shoulders and shake. Leave while you still can!

  This was worse than dying.

  I would rather die than do this.

  My chest was heaving but only slightly so. The rest of me was as solid as a stone block. The guards parted for me while I glared at them, betrayed. I needed them to drag me out of the room and lock me in the dungeons, who cared how many beatings I got.

  “Alle,” Malchin said, reaching his arms out toward me, ignoring the steak knife.

  “No!” exploded out of my mouth, like a cannon. My will is stronger than hers my will is stronger than hers my will is stronger than hers—

  Malchin grabbed my wrist, so warm and safe and steady.

  “Are you okay?”

  I remembered his face, at the beginning, when he was holding Adisa’s silver lolly stick, grinning a rascal’s smile. He had probably been so drained after I fell out of the sky and hit him at full impact, but he still managed to keep me safe and be winning at the same time.

  “I won’t!” I shrieked, my arm trembling, held in midair. I probably looked like a maniac. “You can’t make me! You won’t ever be able to—”

  “Stop talking crazy,” Mother said impatiently. That phrase, stop talking, was enough to make my tongue swell and my throat
close up. The words in my head never ended, though. I had retreated into myself, trying to hide in my personal fortress, drawing strength where I could.

  My muscles were quaking with the warring effort to stab, to stay, to stab, stay, stab, stay.

  “Alle?” Malchin looked confused and was glancing from me to the knife. I would never stab him.

  I had to!

  A muffled sound gurgled in my mouth.

  I was stronger than this. If I wanted to defy it, I could, I would, it was just a stupid chemical.

  Malchin was so close, so close, his face gold and perfect, his hair falling into his concerned midnight eyes. I could see galaxies in their depths.

  This was way too hard. Already I felt the effects of my weakness mashing with Mother’s power, and I wasn’t enough. The entire front of my dress was stained with tears, no doubt soon to be joined with blood. I could still see the thin, rust-colored line on Malchin’s face where Mother’s blade had pierced.

  Even now, when I knew he was about to have his last thoughts, I didn’t want them to be of betrayal and hurt, of bewilderment and unanswered questions. It wasn’t fair.

  The knife was hovering closer and closer to Malchin’s heart as I lost strength. My lips fluttered, my tongue tasting bile and sweat.

  I had resisted Mother’s command to kill him for long enough, which meant I had some semblance of opposition. I forced my mouth to open, to form words. Salt trailed into my eyes.

  “Move,” I gasped before I lost control over my arm. I felt the impact of flesh against metal, the screams of the people around me, even the sound of a camera shutter. Vibration ran up and down my arms, red spilled onto my hand and my dress, my eyes squeezed shut.

  The knife went up and back down, hitting solid chest. I was falling apart at the seams, my organs and intestines spilling onto the floor. I hated myself for doing this, for not being strong enough.

  Someone was dragging me off Malchin, someone in blue, or maybe green, I couldn’t really tell, and then there was a maid’s uniform and lots of shouting. I saw Mother’s heels, the rotating floor.