by Kay, Theresa
There’s so much more here than I had ever noticed. Have I really been in this much of a fog to miss the undercurrents in Bridgelake? What else have I missed? I want to know more, but there’s no time. Once I have Jace back safe and sound, then I can focus on learning more about how I can help Emily. Wait. To join her cause I’d have to stick around and that’s not in the plan.
I study Emily’s face, this girl who’s had so much tragedy in her life and still pushed through my walls to try to befriend me, who is helping me now even though the consequences could be awful for her.
My earlier conversation with Jace plays in my head. It can’t be just us forever. He’s right. “I promise Emily. I’ll get Jace and then do whatever I can to help.”
SIX
Although Emily’s plan is good, some of the details could have used a little more thought. The dress, clearly my least favorite part, works like a charm. In it I’m just another decorative sheep girl waiting for the festival and I’m able to walk down the streets without really being noticed. I practice my fake smile and my hair flip when I see a couple soldiers and they just wave me on, no recognition in their eyes. So, getting to the building that holds Dane’s office is a breeze. It’s how I’m going to get into his office that’s a problem.
It’s full dark now, but the front door of the building is lit up and two guards flank the door. No matter how nice my dress is or how much I bat my eyelashes, I’m not going to get past them. Based on what Emily told me though, Dane’s office is toward the back and it has a window.
I slink around the back of the building. Wonderful. Emily’s information would have been really helpful if that window weren’t about six feet off the ground and just slightly out of my reach. The brick won’t give me enough handholds to climb it and even jumping still leaves the windowsill beyond the grip of my fingers.
Good thing I know how to climb a tree. One of the outreaching branches of the poplar tree growing near the corner of the building looks like it might be perfect for this task. Cursing the stupid dress, I wrap my legs around the trunk and use my arms to pull myself up until I can grab the lowest branch. My inner thighs are scraped all to hell, but I make it up until I’m resting at the branch I saw from below.
It’s still a bit of a leap from the branch to the windowsill, but at least the window’s open. The branch creaks under me as I shimmy further out from the trunk and send out a silent plea that the branch will hold. The fall wouldn’t kill me, but it wouldn’t be very pleasant either. I rise into a crouch, my thigh muscles straining to hold my balance.
When I push off, there’s a loud crack and my leap starts a few inches lower than it should have as the branch falls. I make it across, my shoulders protesting as I hang down against the outer wall, my fingers scrabbling for purchase on the window sill. My biceps shake and my knuckles whiten around the ledge. Slowly raising my body, I collapse into the room, lying on my back for a moment while my breath comes back to me.
I stand, rolling my shoulders and clenching and unclenching my fingers a few times. Shaking my limbs gently loosens my muscles and gets me back on track.
Moonlight filters in through the window, giving me just enough light to work with. I start with Dane’s desk. There’s nothing on top of it, but it has plenty of drawers. The first one opens with a slight click. At least it’s unlocked. Of course, that drawer is not the one with the keys. The next drawer down is also unlocked and so is the third. No keys in any of them. The wide drawer in the center, however, resists my attempts to open it. Great. I need a key to find the keys. Maybe he keeps it nearby.
My fingers trace the underside of the drawer. Come on. Just one bit of luck this evening would be nice. A rough edge brushes against my index finger. It’s tape, and my fingers quickly determine that it’s holding a small key to the bottom of the drawer. Yes! I crouch down, twist my body so I’m facing the ceiling and crawl under the desk, picking at the tape with my fingernail.
The door swings open and the overhead light turns on, freezing me in place. How far does the front of the desk come down? Am I visible from the other side? Turning my head to check, any movement really, would only draw attention to myself if the desk does not extend all the way to the floor. I know this, but I still have to fight the urge to look.
My rocketing heartbeat is loud in my ears and my raised arms are starting to shake. Don’t move. Just breathe.
“Nothing here Daniel,” calls out a voice from the doorway. “The noise you heard was probably just that branch falling.”
There’s no response from Daniel, or at least none I can hear, and the light goes off. The bar of light shining on the wall from the hallway narrows and then disappears as the door closes. A loud breath flows past my lips in one long whoosh. Daniel’s not one of the guards at the cells, that’s good news. Though if I get caught here… he’s the last person I want to run into besides Dane himself.
After a few more swipes with my fingernail, the edge of the tape lifts and I’m able to grasp it and pull it off, the key following. I scramble out from under the desk. My hands are shaky, so I miss on the first attempt to fit the key into the lock, but it slides in easily the second time. Another sigh of relief eases past my lips.
The drawer is nearly empty and I can tell at first glance that what I need isn’t in there. Still. No. Keyring. What is the point of the locked drawer if all it has in it is more useless paper? Dammit. I start to close the drawer, but something shifts in the back and I pull it back open. The drawer doesn’t open all the way so the far corners are hidden from view. Reaching my hand back, my fingers brush against cold metal. I grab the object and pull it forward out of the drawer.
It’s a….I have no idea. Vaguely round in shape and almost entirely smooth, the palm-sized object is not anything I’ve ever seen. It must have some use, maybe even something important, for it to be locked in the drawer. I pull it out, set it on the desk and reach back in.
Another brush of metal against my fingers, but this object is a little more identifiable. It’s a bracelet, no a cuff. Similar in style to what Lir called a kitu but with intricate engravings. It goes to the top of the desk as well.
The papers might be helpful too, so I pull on one of the stacks. Turns out it’s one piece of paper folded multiple times. The edges are yellow with age and it’s heavily creased. Placing it on the desk, I carefully unfold it. A map. Not just any map, one from before the Collapse. I trace the lines connecting all the cities, streets, roads, highways… The scope of it all amazes me. To think, there used to be so many people, so many cities, so much civilization.
My father taught me enough about before that I know this is a map of what used to be Virginia and I easily find what is now Bridgelake on it. Even better, I can navigate the lines and miles over to the nearest large city, the one taken by the E’rikon. A grin breaks across my face. This I know will come in handy.
My thumb pauses over a large red X, not something on the original map, but something written on it. I draw my eyes away from the route to Jace and study the rest of the map as well. There are four more X’s spread out across it, each one with numbers written next to it. 2,345… 1,506…3,124…3,003… And then there’s a large red circle around an area about 300 miles to our West. Inside it are the words “Population 11,537.”
Population of what? It can’t possibly mean people. Bridgelake is the largest remaining human settlement and there are only around ten thousand people here. And the X’s? Could they be population numbers too? Flint’s earlier words come back to me. The alien attacks. They’ve been wiping out settlements. All those people…. And they have Jace.
My hand slaps over my mouth to cover my gasp. I’ve got to get moving. There’s no time to waste.
I fold the map back hurriedly, cringing a little when it rips at one of the creases. It’s not going to fit into my dress, not without looking overly awkward. I need something to put it in. There are no folders or envelopes on the desk, but there’s a tiny, faded leather satchel sitting in the
corner near the door. I cross the floor and grab it, tossing the map, the cuff and the metal object into it.
And there is the stupid keyring. Sitting in plain sight on a bookshelf to my right. It’s a little overly obvious, I mean, can Dane really be that… stupid? I shrug and scoop it up. Then, I sling the satchel across my body and climb back out the window, my knees absorbing the brunt of the impact with little trouble. My breath pushes past my lips in a huff and I stumble forward a few steps.
The sound of Dane’s voice hits my ears and I glance around frantically for a place to hide the satchel. I have to settle for shoving it into a bush and hoping it’s small enough not to be noticed. I’ll have to come back for it later.
My heartbeat’s just settling into its normal rhythm as I round the corner and see Dane and Flint walking toward me from the other end of the street. I jerk as if hit and my pulse immediately picks up again. It’s too late to backtrack. Flint’s already got his hand up in a low wave and Dane is giving me that creepy ‘now I’ve got you’ grin. I slow my steps and take a few deep breaths, struggling to control my racing heart and smiling as demurely as I can. It would really suck to get caught now.
“Hello, Dane, Flint,” I say. “Lovely to see you.”
Flint’s eyebrows have disappeared up into his hairline somewhere and his return smile is uneasy. “Hey, Jax.”
“Good evening, Jasmine,” says Dane. “You look stunning this evening. So nice to see you out of those awful pants and into something more suitable.”
Is he really serious? He pretty much issued a death sentence for my brother earlier and now he wants to chat about clothing choices? “Well you know, the festival and all…” I blink rapidly to prevent myself from rolling my eyes.
“Yes, you young people do like an excuse to dress up.” Dane’s cheesy grin grows and his eyes slide to Flint at his side. “I do have some great news for you though.”
“Oh.” Alarm bells sound in my head. Anything Dane thinks is great is probably not, in fact, whatever his news is, it’s probably the last thing I want to hear right now.
Dane doesn’t wait for me to ask anyway. “In light of the recent events and your newly unfortunate circumstances, I’ve decided to grant you a concession.”
He seems to be waiting for a response from me. “Thank you?… Sir.”
“Letting you be Promised early was an easy decision when I realized I had the perfect man for you.” Dane pats a pale-faced Flint on the back.
My smile shatters and I struggle to keep from screaming. Promised early? I open my mouth, but my suddenly dry throat won’t let any words by.
“Speechless with gratitude I see.” Dane’s expression twists into something more sinister, his eyes boring into me. “You’ll do well to remember my generosity this evening in light of your flaunting of the rules earlier.” Just like that his face morphs again, into the jolly leader. “Well, come along then.”
Before I can protest, Dane reaches out to grab my arm, but Flint beats him to it, grasping my bicep and pulling me into his side. “I’ve got her Sir. Jax and I have some things to discuss anyway.”
I glare at Flint’s hand on my arm and then directly into his face. I don’t have anything to discuss with him.
The walk is silent except for the sound of my feet dragging in the dirt. Flint’s eyes dart from me to Dane and he opens his mouth a few times but then shakes his head and shuts it after another glance at Dane. So maybe there is something to discuss, but not anything he wants to say in front of his father.
I slow my steps until Flint is forced to fall behind alongside me. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve got this under control. Just trust me,” he says.
Dane gestures ahead for us to catch up. I guess trusting Flint is my only choice right now. He wouldn’t actually go through with the Promising. I’m sure he knows how I feel about that whole thing. Right?
The closer we get to the square, the louder my pulse pounds in my ears. My palms may be sweaty, but inside I’m ice cold with something approaching terror. The only thing keeping me moving is Flint’s grasp on my arm.
A large crowd surrounds the stage where the eligible girls wait. That’s where we’re heading right now. I navigate the outskirts of the group fine, jerking my shoulders to the side and stepping carefully to avoiding running into anyone else, but as the crowd gets thicker it becomes harder and harder for me to get a full breath.
Little gasping inhalations are all I can manage and when the first hand pats me on the arm, my heart stutters. The hand is connected to a woman with a friendly expression, but her smile and her hand drop when she takes in my face. “Are you okay, Dearie?” Her smile returns even though I don’t answer. “I’m sure he has someone great picked out for you. Don’t worry.”
Flint just leads me farther into the crowd. I absolutely cannot lose it in front of the entire town. They know I’m odd, they do not need to know exactly how odd. I concentrate on breathing in and out, slowly. It helps, but still doesn’t stop the thumping in my chest.
Dane looks back over his shoulder, a smirk twisting his lips. He’s enjoying this, the bastard. He knew what this would do to me. Anger bubbles up in my stomach and I let it, the heat of it replacing the icy fear. I won’t let him get away with this.
One last deep breath in through my nose and out slowly through my mouth. I lower my chin and speed up, doing my best to ignore the mass of people surrounding me. I can do this. A few seconds later, I reach the edge of the crowd and half stumble into the small empty area directly in front of the stage. When I raise my face to Dane, who’s now standing above me, he nods at me with a smug expression, like he expected me to fail his test but he’s still happy I didn’t. Whatever.
Flint assists me up the stairs and I’m grateful for his hold on my arm. My shaky legs barely make it across the stage and I collapse into the last chair in the line of girls. Deep breath. Trust Flint. He’s got to have some way to get me out of this.
* * * * * * *
The ceremony itself is uneventful and actually pretty boring. The long line of girls in front of me gradually disappears as Dane calls each one up by name. A man comes up from the other side of the stage, Dane puts their hands together, says a few words, the couple kisses and it’s done. Rather anticlimactic if you ask me. I focus on the monotony of it all while my eyes search the crowd for Flint. Where the hell is he? He disappeared as soon as I was in the chair.
“My sister was Promised last year.” The high-pitched voice of the girl next to me scrapes on my fragile nerves. “She was nervous like you, but it all worked out for the best. It’ll be okay. I’m sure Mr. Jacobs has selected well for you.”
I nod my head slowly.
That’s enough to encourage her and she continues to babble. “I’m really excited to tell you the truth.” She actually bounces in her seat a little. “I’m just hoping that he’s selected someone young enough to give me children. I’ve always wanted a baby.” A dreamy smile pulls her lips up. “A little girl…”
Dane’s voice pulls her out of her wistfulness and she jumps to her feet. “That’s me,” she says. “Good luck!”
The hand Dane links with hers is thin-skinned and liver spotted, the man easily thirty years older. Her pained smile stays in place, but her eyes gloss over with the sheen of unshed tears. Poor thing. What did that girl do to deserve that match up? Or maybe, like Emily’s situation, it was punishment for something her parents did. Or would it be some sort of reward for the old guy? There’s just so much I don’t know about this place, so much I never bothered to learn. I almost feel guilty for that.
My name rings through the air next. This cannot possibly be happening. My eyes go out to the crowd again, begging, pleading for Flint to appear, to jump onto the stage and…do something, anything. I don’t stand and step forward like the others, choosing to stay in my seat and blindly hope for something to intervene. Dane crosses the stage and leans down until he’s face to face with me.
“Get up, Jasmin
e,” he says. “You’re embarrassing me. Don’t make me call your name again. I can make things rather unpleasant for you if you test me.”
I rise onto numb feet and my legs carry me to the front of the stage with jerky, robot-like movements. Flint steps up onto the stage and my entire body relaxes into the sigh of relief that breezes out of me. Finally. But something isn’t right. His expression isn’t triumphant or angry or anything but resigned. He reaches out and takes my hand.
I move to pull my hand away, but Flint simply shakes his head. My gaze goes out to the onlookers, waiting for the rest of the rescue team or whatever Flint has planned. Eyes drill into me, curious ones, pleasant ones and maybe even a few hostile ones. I have no anchor here and my mind is flailing for something, anything to hold onto. Nothing is happening.
Zoned out, I only catch the end of what Dane is saying, “…. the last one of the night and the most important one of all.” I shake myself and concentrate on his words. “My son, Flint Jacobs and Jasmine Mitchell.”
What? Flint and me what? My eyes dart around looking for answers.
Flint pulls me closer to him and plasters a smile on, nodding out at the crowd. “Smile,” he hisses into my ear.
“What? Why?” What the hell is going on?
“It’s the only way I could protect you, just go with it. You at least need to try to look happy about it.” Flint’s breath tickles my neck and I shiver.
“Happy about what?”
“Our Promising.”
Hold on. My body stiffens and I blink rapidly. Did he just say that we were Promised? “What are you talking about?”
“I promised Jace I’d protect you if anything happened to him. This is me keeping that promise,” he says against my neck. “It’s not so bad. Dad could have given you to that old guy.” A fleeting sensation of his dry lips pressing against mine sends my mind spinning out of control.