Divided

by Madeline Dyer

  No, Raleigh’s in charge of you.

  I shudder, try to push that thought away, but it keeps bouncing back, like it’s on elastic.

  “I didn’t think it could be you at first, when it started, but clearly I was wrong. And I want to know how you’ve done it.” Raleigh’s voice gets louder, and it’s echoing. Is he saying the words in real life, and they’re filtering through to my…to whatever this place is? Am I inside my head, my imagination?

  “Shania!” Raleigh shouts, and the decibels of his voice make me grimace. Too loud…my ears….

  “Why… What?” I wince and blink harder as the pounding grows.

  Esther’s looking at me strangely. The shadows under her eyes are growing again; they’re getting bigger as I watch. I take a shaky breath. Why’ve I painted her like this, in my safe cage? My world… It should be…she should look beautiful—just like Three said she is.

  “How have you done it?” Raleigh barks, jolting my gaze away from Esther and back toward him.

  I want to tell him to shut up—his tone is making my headache worse—but then I see myself reflected in his visor, and I lean forward, try to see my eyes in it. I squint, need to see them, that’s important…I think.

  “Undo it now,” Raleigh hisses. “You can’t win against me, Shania. I still command your soul, your body, your powers, and I still have your eyes.”

  My eyelids promptly feel heavier. I rub at them, but I just get the sand in them. Sand… No, there’s no sand here. My safe place for the Untamed doesn’t have sand? I look down. The floor is smooth. Marble? Yes. It’s marble. I like marble.

  “Shania! All my new Chosen Ones are getting ill,” Raleigh says. “This has never happened before, and I know you were resisting. And you know what else I know? That you’re a powerful Seer.” He presses his visor against the metal bars. “Thought you’d be clever, did you? Thought you’d make them all unwell—thought you’d kill them right away to save them from me, from even having the chance of becoming Chosen Ones?” He shakes his head. “I didn’t think you would be so selfish.”

  Killing them? Saving them from Raleigh?

  Sweat runs down my spine, sticking my overalls to my damp skin. It’s too hot in here. Far too hot…like in that conversion and…and my chest, it’s too tight… My mind races, races over Raleigh’s words, the ones he’s just said, and then I look at Esther and the others again. They’re coughing, wheezing. And the dark shadows under everyone’s eyes look bigger. The Zharat woman in the cage opposite me is just lying on the floor, her chest barely rising and falling.

  And I’ve done this? My safe place isn’t safe….

  I’m a Seer of Death, and these people are dying.

  Except they’re not here. No one is. It’s my…imagination. Yes. Just my imagination. I nod, then wrap my arms around me. My ears start to burn, and I step back, away from Raleigh, away from his reflective visor because all I can see in it are the ill people around me. They’re everywhere, reflected and real and—

  Raleigh growls and snaps his gloved-fingers in front of my face. “And you. You’re ill too, Shania. Tell me how you’re doing it. Tell me. Is it contagious? Will my people get it? Are you already targeting them?”

  My people… His words seem important…because he’s not including me. I’m not one of them. A smile graces my lips, and using those muscles feels strange.

  “Shania, I’m talking to you. Are you targeting my people?”

  He doesn’t know. But he should…if he’s commanding my soul, shouldn’t he know whether I’m doing it or not? But he doesn’t. He really thinks…thinks I can hide stuff from him. And I have been hiding stuff; he doesn’t know about my contact with the blue-eyed Seer.

  Raleigh yanks open my cell door and marches in. Before I can do anything, he grabs me, shakes me hard. Something clicks in my head, and then the pain….

  I wail.

  “Seven!” Esther’s voice…and she’s shouting at Raleigh.

  But I can’t…pain…my head….

  Heat…in my hands…and I know what’s happening… But not if I’m doing it or if it’s him or… I try to lift them, try to lift my hands… I manage it… The white light grows from my fingers, flickers dimly…not like before…but Raleigh’s there and—

  “I don’t think so,” Raleigh spits, then he slaps me hard.

  I lose my grip on my powers as he propels my body backward. My head hits the wall. Hard. I grunt, see stars flash around me. And it hurts. It hurts—why does it hurt? This isn’t real so it shouldn’t….

  But it does.

  It hurts.

  It’s real.

  Oh Gods.

  “How dare you use that against me.”

  I try to open my heavy eyes, try to see Raleigh.

  He’s above me, looking down at me, and someone’s shouting at him. No, several people are.

  “This won’t work, Shania,” Raleigh snarls. “You can’t beat me. I will convert your people—them being ill won’t stop me. In fact, we’re already re-mind-converting several in the other quarantine bays. You’re just causing unnecessary suffering—proof of the evil that you are.”

  The words make me feel strange. I start to go dizzy. A second later, a door bangs, and I realize Raleigh’s left…left so quickly. Too quickly. That’s not right….

  “You’re doing this?” Esther stares at me. “To save us all?” There’s a strange warmth in her eyes now. Warmth I don’t deserve.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know… My powers….”

  My eyes widen and—oh Gods.

  Elia Jackson.

  I swallow with difficulty, as if my throat is too small. It feels like a bad dream, like it didn’t happen. Yet, I know. I know.

  “I killed her.” I look at Esther. “He made me.” My breathing gets quicker. “He’s going to… Conversion powers, he said.”

  “You’re not making any sense.” Esther shakes her head, and I see most of the Zharat—the ones who are still able to move a little—are looking at me now. Faces against bars.

  I press my lips together. They feel strange. I bite down on my bottom lip. It hurts. This is still real. Very real.

  I try to keep the wobble out of my breath as I realize just how much I’ve not told anyone, how much I need to tell Esther: how I met Death—the God—and the augury, how important I am. What Jed did, how I was tricked, how the Gods and Goddesses banished me from the Dream Land. How Raleigh now has my soul, and how he made me kill that girl. How he’s going to make me convert all the Untamed—and kill the ones I can’t.

  How the Untamed are going to lose the war because of me.

  Oh Gods.

  But there’s the blue-eyed Seer too.

  I look around at the Zharat—at the people who don’t believe females can be Seers—and I’m glad they’re in cages. No one can hurt me when I’m in a cage. Only Raleigh.

  I look at Esther.

  “I need to tell you something.”

  The majority of the Zharat threaten me with death, for being a fraudulent Seer, for angering the Gods, for getting them into this mess.

  Esther just stares at me. She’s taking it a lot better than I expected, especially given how much I’ve kept from her. Something tells me that if Corin was here, he’d make more of a fuss.

  “Jed,” Esther says. “It was him? He did this…after the volcano….”

  I nod. I don’t want to go into all this. Just hearing Esther say Jed’s name makes me feel colder. Guilty. That’s how I feel, and I don’t understand. It’s not my fault.

  The look in Esther’s eyes changes, makes her look more like herself. Not the semi-Enhanced Esther.

  “But there’s a Seer out there who’s going to help?”

  I nod again.

  Is she? You don’t even know who she is.

  But she’s Untamed—that’s all that matters.

  “And Corin’s out there,” I say.

  “So he might find these other Untamed out there—was the Seer Zharat?”


  “No. She was female.”

  “What else?”

  “Really clear blue eyes.”

  “She far away?”

  I shrug, and the movement pulls at my bad shoulder, makes the pain flare up, reminds me of the rest of my aches. I wince. “I don’t know.”

  Esther bows her head a little. “So, Corin might find others. And he knows where this compound is, and that Seer’s been in contact with you—so they could come. A rescue party could come.”

  “And you’ve got us all together in here,” a new voice says. I recognize her immediately, and a grin spreads across my face. Clare. A few cages down. Don’t know how I didn’t see her before. “That would make a rescue easier, if they did come for us. And we’re resisting augmenters—because of you.”

  I nod, though I feel strange—like I’m taking credit for something someone else did. Yet it can’t be a coincidence that we’re all ill and not feeling the pull of the augmenters. Unless we were all exposed to something in the Fire Mountain, and it’s only just come out now? And it’s that which is interfering with the augmenters?

  “There’s still hope,” Esther says, and she says the words firmly. “You just need to stop Raleigh using your Seer powers and making you hurt people.”

  “And for that I need the Gods and Goddesses back on my side and full control of my own soul,” I whisper.

  Esther leans forward. “And that Seer you saw—I bet she can help. You’ve just got to find out who she is and contact her.” She looks at me expectantly, as if I can contact the mysterious Seer right away.

  “I don’t know how.”

  I think of my father’s words: the moment you think you’ve lost, then you have. And he’s right. Even now, when he’s gone, he’s right.

  I breathe deeply. “I don’t know how—yet.”

  Would Raleigh realize I’m contacting another Seer for help? He didn’t seem to notice before—but it was just a fleeting image of the Seer. But if I did get in contact and talk with her for a long time, would he feel it? And he’s still got my eyes; if he was looking, would he see her? Or does he only see what’s literally in front of my physical body? Either way, I don’t like it, and I frown. There’s got to be a way I can reverse the control Raleigh has over me and get my eyes back. There has to be. I shake my head as I think. I’ve got to get into the Dream Land—but how? The benevolent spirits aid the Gods and Goddesses as they summon Seers—and they wouldn’t ever summon an Enhanced Seer. I need the help of another Seer for that.

  Another Seer.

  I stand and look down the length of the cages, my knees protesting. “Are there any Seers here? Zharat Seers?”

  “I’m a Seer,” a male voice says. “A proper Seer. Active for the moment, ’less you’re taintin’ me with your darkness.”

  I breathe deeply, try to think. But this Zharat Seer won’t have access to the Dream Land. He can’t get there because the male Zharat Seers kill the female Zharat Seers, which is just as much treason as converting. I shake my head. What we need is for the Gods and Goddesses to make someone here a Seer. But they wouldn’t do that—not when we’ve all been caught and have augmenters in us…even though we’re not feeling the effects and our mirrors are fading.

  “We ain’t escapin’ from ’ere,” the male Seer says. “Look at us, we’re weak. We’re locked up. We’re in a bloody Enhanced compound for the Gods’ sake. And there ain’t no rescue team comin’ for us.”

  I press my lips together. “Did any of the Zharat get away? How many got out of the steam eruption without the Enhanced getting them?”

  “Some.”

  “So they can help us too….”

  “So long as the volcano’s anger didn’t get them after,” Clare says. “There was some magma surfacing too. But they’re not goin’ to come here. Or know the way… We traveled for a long time to get here.”

  I breathe deeply. I can’t remember the journey. I was unconscious then? “How long?”

  Esther frowns. “It was about a four-hour journey, I think.”

  “Four hours?” I try not to grimace. “That’s…doable.”

  “Four hours in vehicles that flew,” another Zharat man says.

  “Planes.” I shake my head. “So we’re probably not in the Noir Lands.” I press my lips together, then curse under my breath. “Okay. But there’s still got to be a way. Something we can do. Something active we can do now.”

  The blue-eyed Seer. She’s the only option. I’ve got to contact her.

  But how? Using Seer powers? Then I go cold. Did I subconsciously use them earlier, when I saw her the first time? Was that how my powers were stronger…strong enough for Raleigh to kill Elia Jackson with them?

  My stomach twists.

  Breathe, Seven. Just breathe.

  “But Raleigh can control you,” Esther says. “You can’t get away from him. He won’t let you. And we’ve got nothing to fight them with.”

  “I’ve got a knife,” Clare says.

  We all look at her in surprise.

  A knife. I bare my teeth slightly as a thought weaves toward me.

  “Give it to me.” I glance down at the gold marks on my arms again—they’re just visible, peeking out from under the rolled-up sleeves of my overalls where they have retreated…as if they know what I’ve just thought of. I look back up. “Pass it along.”

  “Yeah, stab yourself with it, you fraud,” a Zharat man says.

  But they pass the knife along, and Esther pushes it through my bars a moment later. I take it and run the blade lightly over the fleshy pad of my thumb, ignoring the way my head starts to feel heavier. The knife’s edge is sharp. It won’t need much pressure exerted.

  “What are you doing?” Esther asks, starts to stand up on the other side of the bars.

  I take a deep breath, work out which bit would be the best to do. Because it might work.

  The gold marks on the back of my hands wink back at me.

  I press my lips together.

  “Have you seen something?” Esther asks. “Sev? You know what to do—what we can do?”

  “Of course she hasn’t seen anything! She’s not a real Seer!”

  Claire lets out a frustrated sound. “For the Gods’ sake! She’s real, but the Gods have blocked her. Weren’t you listenin’ to a word she said? No more Seeing dreams for us—because of you.”

  “Not us—Jed.”

  “He was one of you, one of the men.”

  I glance at Clare briefly. Her own sister was killed by the Zharat for being a ‘fraud’, and she’s been against the misogyny the whole time I’ve known her.

  I take a deep breath and return my attention to the knife. It’s crude, and I wonder if it’s a Zharat knife. Maybe Clare didn’t get searched thoroughly, or she hid it somehow? Didn’t one of the Enhanced say a blond Zharat woman had bitten someone? I look at Clare again, then press my lips together, trying not to smile.

  I push my left sleeve higher up, exposing most of my arm and the marks. My breath shakes as I stare at the gold patterns. They seem brighter in here, because of the artificial lighting.

  But it’s them, the marks—they’re the problem. Scrubbing them off didn’t work—because the women stopped me, they knew what I was trying to do and Raleigh must’ve warned them before—warned them all—that I mustn’t do anything to the marks. But now I’ve got a knife. And there are no Enhanced to stop me now.

  “Seven?” Esther’s tone is sharp. “What are you doing?”

  I try to stop my right hand shaking. I hold the knife in it, over the gold mark on the underside of my left arm. It’s near my Zharat mark, the scar one of the tribesman made when I was welcomed into their community.

  I touch the tip of the blade to my arm and wince.

  Then I press harder.

  “Seven! You’re hurting yourself!”

  I try to ignore Esther’s voice, need silence. The thin line of red around the gold gets a little stronger. I need to get the knife under the Promise Mark, the blade level—
need to scrape it off. One quick movement. That would be best.

  For a second, my vision blurs, and I think of Raleigh. Is he aware of what I’m doing, watching through my eyes? And a part of me wants him to know, to know how serious I am.

  Or maybe he’ll feel the pain too—my soul is bound to him, after all. Maybe I’ll be hurting him. I smile. Yes. He needs to hurt.

  The pain—could it be enough to make Death notice me, for him to realize, take me to the Dream Land as well? Get rid of the Promise Marks—get my soul back—and get the Gods and Goddesses to trust me again? To prove to them whom I am.

  I take a deep breath. I nod.

  Then I go for it.

  “Seven!” Esther screams.

  I look up, see her throw herself at the bars between us. She dents them with her weight, then forces her hand through, reaching for me.

  And—and I’ve got the knife half under the gold mark. Half of it is loose. But Esther distracted me. Shit. I stare at the knife peeking out from under the mark—and the flap of gold skin that’s moving, shedding blood. The muscles in my throat constrict, start burning. My stomach twists, feels slimy, and my breathing’s too fast.

  “Give me the knife.” Esther’s voice is low, like a crouching cat, ready to pounce.

  Tears prick the corners of my eyes, and I try to breathe through the pain, through the waves.

  But my blood’s everywhere now. It’s covering my arm, dripping on the floor. I can’t see what I’m doing. I wipe my other sleeve across my arm, try to clear it. The gold mark, it’s still there, still attached on the left side. And it has to go. If it goes—if all of them go—it will be all right. Everything will be okay.

  I pull the blade out. White sparks flit in front of my eyes. I wait for them to clear, blinking several times, then move the blade. I scrape it across my arm, from the other direction, biting sharply on my lip.

  My skin flays off.

  Esther screams at me, and the Zharat shout. But I’m quiet. Strangely quiet. And I—I stare at the mess on the floor: the Promise Mark among the blood. My blood. Something whirs inside my head.

  My stomach tightens and twists.