ARC: The Almost Girl

by Amalie Howard

  I would be his destruction.

  “Hey, guys,” a voice says, and I whirl around, only to collide with Caden. His hair is rumpled around his face and there are pillow lines creasing his skin as if he’s only just awakened. He smells like soap and outdoors. I’ve never wanted more to fling myself into his arms and close my eyes, but I steel myself. “Glad you’re awake,” he says to me, his eyes gentle. “You scared me for a while.”

  “I’m fine,” I snap more harshly than I intended. Hurt flashes in his expression as if I’ve slapped him, and his eyes pan slowly from me to Sauer to Aurela.

  “What’s going on?” he asks.

  “Nothing. We’re talking logistics,” I say dismissively, and turn to Aurela. “Can we get out of here? This place is making me sick.”

  The rest of the bio-facility is the same as any I’ve been in with my father, a veritable maze of white walls and white doors. Once in a while, people dressed in white walk past us. They all nod or bow respectfully in Aurela’s direction. She’s more than a leader, I realize. She’s their unofficial queen. Even Sauer walks a step behind her, I notice, in some kind of dutiful deference.

  We enter an elevator at the far end of one of the corridors and make our way to the top. The elevator opens into a simple, nondescript two-story house. I look backward as the wall slides shut behind us, completely concealing the hidden elevator behind it. Aurela was right; there’s so much I don’t know about what has happened over the last three years.

  “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back,” Aurela says, and walks downstairs.

  The room we’re in is simple, with a long dining table surrounded by wooden chairs. It’s sparse but comfortable, and unlike the clinical austerity of the bio-facility beneath us, it’s painted a peaceful yellow. Silvery moonlight filters through one side of the house, and the cool air and smell of civilization hits my face through the open windows. It’s never smelled so good. Even in the outlying sectors, Neospes had a unique odor. It’s not offensive or foul, just achingly familiar, like an odd combination of well-oiled machinery and bread. I breathe deeply, walking to one of the half-opened windows.

  It’s nighttime, but I can see the tip of the citadel rising in the distance. It has been my home for so long that a part of me twinges. I squash it as quickly as it fills me – it’s been a cage, not a home, and all part of my father’s plan. I push the shutters open and lean out slightly, watching the people bustle on the street below as the cool air rushes in. Even though it’s night, it’s nowhere near as cold as it was in the Outers. I look up at the giant glass perimeter of the dome spanning as far as the eye can see. It performs a double function. It protects us from any predators from the Outers, and it regulates the unpredictable temperatures of our atmosphere. So right now, the night air is crisp rather than freeze-blood-to-ice cold.

  But any way I look at it, we are all still prisoners in a giant fish bowl, and a small part of me would rather be out there than in here. Sirens go off in the distance, and Sauer’s voice from behind me jerks me from my thoughts.

  “Be careful,” Sauer warns. “The Vectors are on high alert.”

  My eyes narrow. “Why?”

  He shoots me a wry grin, putting some tableware and a pitcher of some liquid on the long table. “Mostly rumors that you’re back. Of course, since you removed your tracking chip, you’re off the grid, too. But as much as the Artok are our allies, we can’t stop people from talking, especially those loyal to the monarchy.” He grabs my pack from a corner of the room and tosses it to me. “Don’t worry; I’m sure you’re more than familiar with their search techniques. And if worse comes to worse, you can take care of yourself just fine.”

  “Thanks,” I say drily, but I shut the window carefully behind me. The contents of my backpack look the same, but I know that Aurela’s guards would have been meticulous and careful in their search. “What about you? Are you off the grid?”

  “No, they know where I am. But I’m off duty, and technically this is my house, so we’re good.” Sauer adds three different-shaped bottles to the table and pours himself a glass from one of them. After a pointed glance from Caden, Sauer slides him a glass across the table. Caden knocks it back in one swift shot as if he’s done it a hundred times before. I can smell the alcohol from where I am standing. Sauer nods at an empty glass and then in my direction.

  “No, thanks,” I say. I’ve never mixed well with spirits of any kind, even though it feels like I probably should have a glass like Caden to calm the storm still simmering inside of me. I look away and haul two deep breaths into my lungs. I’m pretty sure that giving in to the temptation would only have a worse outcome… like me running off to confront my father in a blind rage or something equally stupid.

  “Where’s my jacket and blades?” I ask sifting through my bag.

  “They’re still in the Peaks,” Sauer says. “Caden grabbed your pack when you passed out. Don’t worry; Aurela sent some men to retrieve them.”

  Most of the other, smaller weapons are in the bag. I notice that Shae’s thumb drive is resting on the top of everything else. I still haven’t been able to bring myself to see whatever she has recorded on there. In hindsight, I probably should have listened to it the minute we left the Otherworld – no doubt she would have mentioned Aurela or even the thing that I am. A shudder rips through me at the thought, and I slap the flap closed.

  Sauer stares at me over the rim of his glass as I stretch the corded muscles in my neck. He bangs the glass on the table, making both Caden and I jump. “Come on, I have an idea.”

  “What about Aurela?” Caden says.

  “She’ll be a while, and we’re not leaving the house,” Sauer throws over his shoulder. “We’re just going to get some tension out.”

  Caden and I follow him down the stairs to the main floor and then down another set of stairs into a wide room that’s lit with overhead recessed lighting. I recognize the layout immediately – it’s a training room. The floor is padded and two opposite walls are lined from top to bottom with mirrors. There are a few combat dummies on either end of the room, all of them battered, with chunks torn out of their torsos and faces. A vast array of weapons, from knives to spears to lances to pikes, lines one of the other two opposite-facing walls, but what takes my breath away is the antique collection of intricately carved Artok bows lining the near wall.

  “Wow,” I hear myself say.

  “Shae’s,” Sauer says softly. “She used to say that it inspired her.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Caden agrees.

  I agree wholeheartedly but I can’t speak. The thought that my sister fought – trained – in this room fills me with an odd choking sensation that leaves me empty for words. There was so much of her life that I missed, so much that I didn’t understand. If only I’d made the choice to go with her all those years ago, how different everything could have been. I’d have had a sister and a mother, instead of an egomaniacal father who cared more for his zombie robots than he did his real flesh and blood.

  But “what if” never did anyone any good, far less me. I made my choice. I didn’t go with them, and now my sister is dead. I feel the unspent anger swelling within me again like a monstrous tide, and I understand why Sauer has brought us down here.

  Training is what he knows. It’s what I know. I throw off my outerwear and join Sauer where he and Caden are standing in the middle of the room.

  “Standard warm-up drill?” Sauer asks as I windmill my arms.

  I nod and glance at Caden, who like Sauer is only wearing black fatigues. He isn’t half as chiseled as Sauer, but the sight of his lean chest makes my stomach waver. A faint flush fills my cheeks, and I cover it up with gruffness. “You want to watch first and then join in?”

  “Shae taught me,” he says.

  “It’s not like fencing practice,” I toss back.

  “You just try to keep up.” I almost snort out loud at his overconfidence, and then I remember our sparring back in the Peaks and his skill. Bowi
ng mockingly in his direction, I take a deep breath and focus, centering my energy.

  In a line, we bend and twist through a complicated series of rhythmic calisthenics, moving and breathing in silent unison. The movements are slow and long, extending to the edges of my center of gravity, strengthening my core. In the mirror, I can see that Caden is keeping up easily, his body as flexible as ours, as if he’s been doing the exercises for years. Obviously, Shae taught him well.

  Completing the first stage, we move sinuously into the second phase, which incorporates more jumping, kicking, and thrusting. Our training is built on a dynamic combination of hard and soft martial arts that focuses on energy and core strength as well as defensive and offensive strategies. I’m covered in a sheen of sweat, but it feels so good – every jab and shove helping to dissipate the raw tension in my body.

  Nearly two hours later, Sauer retrieves three long, slender black staffs from the side and hands them to Caden and me. We’re moving into the soft-weapon stage of the training, comprised of delicate and quick sparring movements against each other, the staffs acting as extensions of our bodies. We spin and lunge in unison, and in the mirror we are a blur of graceful but lethal movement. The staffs click against each other in a precise, dangerous staccato as we meet in various steps of the exercise.

  The final phase of the training is actual sparring. We pair off for a sequence of moves and then spin back to the third opponent. Sauer is strong but occasionally leaves his flanks unprotected. If we were in actual combat, he would be a worthy opponent, but I know that I would eventually beat him.

  Caden is another matter altogether. His movements are graceful and catlike. He reads my strikes almost in advance of them, like a mind-fighter, nor does he expose many weaknesses. He doesn’t falter in his offensive strikes, and his defensive moves flow like yin and yang. He knows when to attack and when to withdraw, which is something only learned after years of experience.

  I’m slowly realizing that Caden has mastered most, if not all, of our elite training techniques. With a grin, I understand now that Shae wasn’t kidding when she said he could probably take me. Caden had been her final and best trainee. Preoccupied, I spin out of the way of his staff at the last minute, but it still catches me on the back of the shoulder.

  Wincing, I see that Caden is grinning at me. “Almost had you that time.”

  “I was distracted, and almost doesn’t get you any points,” I shoot back, and then incline my head. Credit should always be given where it’s due. “But yeah, you were good.”

  “Feel better?” Sauer asks.

  I nod. “That was exactly what I needed. I forgot how good it felt to do that from beginning to end. In the Otherworld, I only got to practice it in pieces, and finding an adequate sparring partner was difficult enough.” I squeeze Caden on the back, ignoring the spark of electricity that shoots up my fingers at the damp touch of his skin. “Shae taught you well.”

  “Thank you. She made me do it every day before school, rain or shine,” Caden says. “She was relentless.”

  Sauer hands us each a cup of drinking water. “You were both good.” He glances at me knowingly. “But you, you were holding back. Why?”

  “I wasn’t,” I begin, but realize that Sauer is right. Despite my fatigue, my body still feels like it could go for several more hours. I shrug. Before knowing the truth, going all out was the only thing I knew. Now, it feels weird. It feels fake because of what I know I am… as if I’m cheating somehow. I stare at the ground, tension hovering against my shoulders, eager to weigh me down once more.

  “Try this.” Sauer walks to the wall and removes a thin longsword. The scabbard is blood red with black markings, and the sword’s handle is black interlaced with silver. Sauer’s face is solemn as he stands in front of me, slowly removing the elegant silvery blade, and only then do I see the inscription of my name near the hilt. I gasp.

  “Shae had this made for you in the Artok way,” Sauer tells me. “The sword’s name, like yours, is Riven. It means ‘to cleave asunder.’”

  “I know what it means,” I say for lack of anything else, taking the sword reverently in my hands. The craftsmanship is extraordinary, the weight of it perfect.

  “So,” Sauer says. “Let’s see you try it out.” I frown at him, but he is staring at me expectantly. I glance at Caden, who agrees and moves to sit with Sauer at the far end of the room, giving me enough space with the deadly weapon.

  Holding the blade vertically between my palms in front of my face, I take a deep breath and then lay the sword flat out in front of me on both palms, as I sink into sideways lunge and bow. I close my eyes, letting my breathing and the movement of my body guide me.

  The training studio fades away and I am alone. Flicking the hilt of the sword up, I grab it easily and spin into a complicated series of thrusts, jumps, and parries. This time I don’t hold back as the sword flows in and out of my movements like a binding thread, a fluid extension of me.

  I’m spinning faster and faster, letting the power heating up within me take over, letting the part of me that isn’t human lend me strength, until I am nothing but shadow and flashes of light. And still I go faster. I can feel my heart burning, a vortex of flame and liquid exhilaration. Perhaps Sauer is right – maybe I am better than the Vectors. My chest pounding, I finish with a final slash and bend into a forward lunge with the blade held over my head in perfect symmetry.

  I open my eyes. There is dead silence in the room. Self-conscious, I stand, only to find that it’s no longer just Caden and Sauer standing there. Aurela is there too, accompanied by six people in hooded cloaks. I hadn’t even heard them come in.

  I recognize four of them immediately as the Sector Leaders of Sectors Three, Four, Six, and Eight. The other two I don’t know, but they’re all staring at me with identical expressions of astonishment, awe, and something else I’m not quick to identify, despite seeing it thousands of times before.

  Fear.

  REVOLUTION

  I wipe the grime off my skin with a washcloth, using a special cleansing oil. What I wouldn’t give for one of the decadent showers of Caden’s world. That’s one of the things I treasured – that and the beauty of a world that hasn’t been ravaged by war. For a second, I think of the lake in the mountains that I saw with Shae, and my heart aches. I won’t see either of them again. They have become synonymous with beauty and loss.

  Despite the unexpected audience at the end, the training exercise was exactly what I needed to feel normal… to feel like myself again. Tugging on an undershirt and a pair of leggings, I drag a brush through my hair. It’s gotten longer, but I haven’t bothered to cut it. Staring at myself in the mirror over the water basin, I hardly recognize myself. Faded chunks of green intertwine with darker strands. I’ve lost weight, and my cheekbones ridge prominently on the sides of my face, but my eyes are bright and cheeks rosy.

  My thin blue-weaved braid hangs over my left ear to my shoulder. Carefully, I unravel the braid, using my knife to hack off the strands to match the length of the rest of my hair. I don’t know why I left it – but it’s been a part of me for so long, a status of my rank. Of course, all that has changed. I am no longer a Legion General. I am no one.

  No, I am worse. I’m a fugitive.

  Like my mother. Like Shae.

  Thinking of her, I glance at the long blade resting in its scabbard on my bed and feel a tear slide down my cheek. I was on her mind even though I barely spent a second of thought on her. She was always the more compassionate of the two of us, and no wonder; I’m half a real person with little empathy for anyone. A flash of bitter self-loathing surges through me… for the thing that I am.

  Grabbing my backpack roughly, I rifle through it to take my mind off that train of thought. My hand is drawn to a slim rectangular object. Shae’s drive. It’s the last remaining piece of the puzzle. Swallowing hard, I plug it into a holograph port resting on the small table on one side of the room. Shae’s face swims into focus. My stomach s
wan dives to my feet but I force myself to double-tap the play button.

  Hello, Riven. My entire body flinches at the sound of her voice and the soft expression on her face. She could be sitting across the table from me. My fingers curl into my sides, bloodless, as her words continue. If you’re seeing this, then I’m gone. And hopefully you and Cade are still alive and you found your way back to Neospes. There’s so much I have to say to you, so much I need to explain, but finding the right words is a challenge in itself. First of all, I love you. I’m pretty sure you don’t think I ever did, but it’s true. I’ve always loved you and I always believed in you. The real you.

  I want to throw the drive and the hologram against the wall. I can’t even bear to look at her beautiful face. Every cell in me is shaking with regret and grief. It’s nearly more than I can take, but I force myself to listen despite the gut-wrenching anguish spiraling through me.

  You’re probably going to find out a lot about yourself if you’re back in Neospes, things about your father and our mother. She’s alive, Riven! I wanted to tell you that day when I came back for you, but it would have been too risky for her safety. She’s been here all along. She’s the one who got Caden and his mother out. She’s the one who sent me to protect him. If you haven’t found her already, find her. Go to Sector Seven and ask for Commander Sauer. He will take you to her. If you do see Sauer, tell him I’ll see him again and he’s always with me.

  I know you’re being extra careful about staying off the grid, but trust no one.

  TRUST NO ONE. Shae’s face and words are emphatic.

  One last thing, my sister. Thank you for looking out for Caden. He’s the real deal. Cale’s the clone. I’m sure you already know this by now, but if you don’t, I’m sorry about him and that you had to find out the truth this way. I know you were – are – close. But there are things underway in Neospes that make it hard to see where the real betrayal lies… with Murek, your father, or even Cale himself.