“It worked,” Cameron points out.
The frustration returns, “No, it didn’t.” Margo drops the ball of copper on the small coffee table. It rolls around in wobbly, uneven circles. “I didn’t make a penny.”
“I must have really scared you…” muses Nick.
“I wouldn’t say ‘scared.’ Shocked, maybe…” Margo looks up at Nick as he scratches the back of his head in embarrassment and realizes that perhaps it wasn’t an act. Not that she doesn’t trust him, but maybe, before he lost most of his mark, maybe he was quite a scary guy.
“To be honest,” he says. “I’m surprised you were able to pull anything out on just your third try. This usually takes a lot of practice, but you even felt your power on the first attempt…” He trails off shaking his head in excitement, muttering incoherently about a prodigy to himself.
“You’ve done exceptionally well,” says Janie.
“I’m impressed,” adds Cameron winking down at Margo.
Even though nothing truly physical has happened, Margo suddenly feels a wave of exhaustion. She slumps into the nearest chair.
“I think that’s enough for one day,” says Janie. She scurries into the kitchen and comes back with a glass of water for Margo.
“Yes,” agrees Nick. “No need to push you any further today. Just remember that any strong emotion triggers your power. This is vitally important for a New Mark since you have no prior experience. It’s a good way to practice until you get the gist of how this sensation within you works.”
Margo nods, and repeats, “Strong emotions…trigger power… Got it.”
“Right, then. Get some rest,” says Nick. “Spend the afternoon with Cameron.” Margo likes that idea, but is far too tired to even think about going anywhere — no matter how badly she wants to explore more of this strange world — so they stay at Nick’s house. Most of the afternoon is spent in the spare bedroom that she slept in the night before. There is plenty for them to talk about and catch up on; though, Margo keeps certain things brief and leaves out the more painful memories since his last visit.
Mostly she wants to hear about how he found his way into this world. He tells her it happened on his morning run, like any ordinary day, when he saw a globe reflecting the sun’s light. He was curious, of course, and next thing he remembers, he was lying in the icy woods.
Margo shudders as she can relate to it all. She finds she would rather not think about that again, especially imagining Cameron going through it, so she picks up one of Nick’s many sketches scattered about the room to change the subject.
“That’s the Northern City,” he says matter-of-factly. The picture she holds is of odd, round-topped houses suspended in the forest’s trees.
“This isn’t the only city?” Margo asks, surprised.
He shakes his head. “This is the Central City, the main city. The Northern City’s occupants live in this world more…optimistically.”
“Meaning…?”
“They’re looking up. They haven’t given up on life outside of Jamyria as most of the Central City’s people have. The people there are willing to fight for a way to freedom — New Mark or not.”
Margo’s heart sinks a little, realizing which city Cameron had chosen. “Have you given up on life, then?”
“Hardly. I had my reasons for choosing this city. Also, people from the North can be very confrontational, not really my style…. I am, however, more thankful to have taken up a home here now that you’ve arrived.” He stares oddly at her.
“Tell me about this one.” She holds up another picture to change the subject.
“Shadow People,” he states. His eyes cut away from the drawing, and he acts busy shuffling through other drawings. The picture is nearly all black except the outlines of several people whose dark clothes and gloves cause them to mostly blend into the background.
“Who are they?” Margo asks ignoring his fidgety behavior.
He smiles darkly. “Not everyone here is good, Margo.”
“I figured that much out already.”
He sighs and takes the picture from her, folding it away. “Most people who enter Jamyria are left ‘as is,’ but some are changed into something else. Not the way you were changed; they’re forced into it by their creator. Sometimes into something beautiful, sometimes something bad. Either way, they have no say in it.”
“Not like I had any say in it…” she mumbles.
“The Shadow People,” he says, ignoring her statement, “cannot be trusted. Some work for the Queen as spies; others do deeds without her request with hopes of being rewarded. Then there are a select few who are different and choose to keep their distance from the Queen. But the ones who do work for her can be deceitful, claiming to be good only to betray you later.”
Margo considers this. “They’re marked?”
“No. When someone’s been transformed into one of the land’s creatures, they’re given a power that’s relevant to their species. They’re limited in what they can do with it, but no mark is required.”
“What is it the Shadow People do?” Margo asks nervously.
“They travel through shadows.” His face is serious, yet slightly disturbed. From the sound of his tone, Margo expected their power to be much more frightening than this. “Ah, here’s another good one.”
He holds out a simple drawing of three figures surrounding a woman. All four of the beings were drawn hastily; Margo hopes Nick hadn’t left his sketch that way intentionally.
“The three nobles.” Cameron gestures to the outer people, one on either side of the middle figure and a larger one behind. “Guardians of the Queen. They are the leaders of her Crew.”
“Crew? Oh, right. The people that work for her…” Margo’s eyes then widen. The vague sketch of the woman in the middle is the Queen? All of the lines of her face are loose and light as if awaiting detail, except for the pair of eyes looking back at Margo. They are perfect, realistic replicas, cold and venomous.
“But that was then,” Cameron sets the drawing down. “Now there are only two nobles: the big man standing behind the Queen and the woman. No one knows where the third ended up. Rumor says he was asked to step down. Others think he was killed.”
Something about the tremor in his voice presses Margo move on. She does not wish to hear of the Queen or the Crew she is up against, and she questions why Cameron thought that was a good sketch for her to see.
Flipping through more sketches, she happens upon a drawing that sends shivers down her back. A beautiful girl with long dark hair stands nearly bare in the middle of the woods, but something about her is off-putting, other than her untamed beauty. There is a wild edge to her face; she is feral and raw. Then Margo realizes that even though the picture is sketched in charcoal, it is obvious that the girl has two different colored eyes. One must have been a dark brown or possibly black while the other is light and almost colorless with a pupil no larger than a flea.
“Who is that?” she blurts.
Cameron winces when he sees which picture she has. “That’s who they call the Beast.” This time he doesn’t wait for the questions to start. “She’s different than the other half-breeds in the woods.” Margo notices how he refers to them as half-breeds. “She is marked. You can’t see it because the drawing cuts it off, but it’s there.” He points down toward where her thigh would have been. “No one knows exactly what it is she can do or how she came to be, but it’s almost as if she’s more than a Mark, like she senses things others can’t. There are only a few who have seen her in person and can live to tell about it.”
“Her eyes…” Margo breathes.
“Yeah, we’ve all wondered about them. But it’s not like we can just ask her; she doesn’t talk.”
Margo’s fists tighten around the edges of the paper. Cameron takes it from Margo, crumbling up Nick’s work and tossing it aside. He kneels before her. “You don’t have to do this.”
Margo forces a smile at him. “No, you don’t have to do this.
”
“I’m not going to let you go alone.”
“What if something happens to you?”
“That’s exactly why I’m going. Because I feel the same way about you. And I’d go crazy if I sat around here waiting to hear from you. There’s a lot out there other than the beauty.” He gestures toward the ball of paper on the floor surrounded by hundreds of other sketches awaiting a chance to be turned over.
She shakes her head and asks, “But what if something does happen?”
He leans in closer; her heart flutters again. “Then, I’ll be right there beside you.”
Margo fights the urge to reach out, wrap her arms around him, and confess what she’s kept locked away for the past year. She drops her eyes as these feelings hit her like a sledgehammer to the heart.
“I missed you so much,” he whispers.
“I missed you, too. More than ever this year.” The words were waiting on the tip of her tongue, but she cannot allow herself to go on.
“Really?” he asks, full of fascination. “Because I seem to remember our goodbye going a little differently.”
Margo kicks herself for taking the conversation one step further into the awkward zone. “Yeah…” She pauses remembering that morning long ago. “But remember, it’s been two summers now. And when you didn’t show up last time, I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore.”
Cameron’s arms suddenly envelop her again. “How could you think that, silly girl?”
She laughs into his chest.
“Are you going to stay with Nick again?” he asks.
“Oh…” she says, caught off guard by his question. “I’m...not sure.”
He lets go to scratch the back of his head nervously. “Because I wanted to know…if you wanted to stay with me, if you want…? You can have the bed, of course.”
Margo smiles. “That would be nice. But I don’t mind the couch.”
“You don’t actually think I’m going to make you take my lumpy couch? Jamyria doesn’t have your everyday microfiber, plush sofas, you know?”
“Fine. We’ll flip for it.”
He flashes a grin. “Only if you make the coin.”
She rolls her eyes dramatically. “I’ll probably just end up having to stay here, then.”
“Try,” he says supportively, pulling Margo’s hand back into position.
She huffs, but still closes her eyes. Focusing on the penny now comes with ease since she is beginning to recognize the energy within her. She tries like before to remember every detail of the penny: the fact that it is a flat, round penny; the year embossed on its surface; Abraham’s face that is more rounded and three-dimensional than etched into the coin. She tries to recall the lines of the president’s profile: the curve of his nose, the way his beard wraps along his jawline…
She feels a cold weight in her hand. “Will this work?” Margo holds up her latest creation. This time it is a doughnut shaped piece of copper. “I must have over-thought Abe...”
“May I?” asks Cameron.
She shrugs and hands it to him. He stuffs it into his pocket and rises to his feet.
“Come on.” He pulls Margo up. “Let’s see what Nick and Janie are up to.”
The afternoon breezes by. Dusk will soon be approaching, and Margo anxiously awaits the discussion of her mission which is sure to come when at last the time arrives.
“Well, it’s time to discuss your duty in Jamyria,” says Nick once everyone has gathered around his kitchen table.
“Okay.” Margo leans in. “What am I supposed to do?”
Nick opens his mouth, but his words delay. “Well… We don’t exactly know….”
Margo waits for him to continue. The silence lurks, and she notices Janie’s head drop in shame. When Nick doesn’t speak again, Margo’s mouth falls open, too frustrated to speak. She suddenly feels as if she’s been the part of a joke for the past two days and this is the bad punch line.
“You. Don’t. Know…?”
Cameron shoots to his feet, furious. “You’re just planning to send us out looking blindly for nothing? Lead us to our death?”
“Calm down, Cameron,” says Janie. “Just hear what —”
“This is the big secret mission?” Margo shouts, jumping up as well.
“Sit down, both of you,” says Nick.
Neither budge.
“Fine, then. I can stand, too. It’s not that I’m sending you off to nowhere to try to find the impossible. It’s that I don’t know what exactly it is you’re supposed to be looking for…yet.”
“What are you saying, Nick?” asks Cameron through gritted teeth.
“I’m saying, you need further instruction,” he replies. “Obviously, if we knew how to get out, none of us would still be stuck in this place, now would we?” He smirks. “But there is another who can help you find your way. I’m simply going to nudge you in the right direction.”
“Who?” Margo asks.
“You must first go to the Northern City. There’s a man there called Bron who can give you directions to find the Witch —”
“THE WITCH?” shouts Cameron.
“Wait…” Margo says. “The city in that picture we found?”
Cameron ignores her because he is too busy yelling in Nick’s face. “The Witch is crazy! She’s a sick, cannibalistic, voodoo freak! And I would never take Margo there even if there was no other way to get out of this place!”
“There is no other way, Cameron,” Nick calmly says.
“Someone seems very protective,” mutters Janie to herself.
“I personally know the Witch, and she is not the things people say she is,” Nick says. “And I assure you, Margo will be safe there.”
Cameron holds his fists tight by his side.
“If we have to do it, then we have to do it, Cam. I’m not afraid,” says Margo, only partially lying.
“You don’t know what you’re saying, Margo.”
“I knew this wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. You can either come with me, or I’ll go alone. Either way, I’m not staying here.” She points her nose in the air, sits down firmly, and crosses her arms. Margo hasn’t done that since she was a child, but the effect is still the same.
“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” he mumbles.
“I’m not afraid,” she lies again.
“Is this the only way?” Cameron asks.
Nick nods ruefully. “She has the most knowledge of the darker parts of this world. This man from the North, he can show you where —”
“I know where the Witch is,” Cameron says sharply. “I had a run in with her not long after I entered. I’m sure I can find her again.”
“Very well. Find her, and Margo, you must show her your marks. She should be able to translate them — yes, translate. They’re codes, inscriptions to be more specific. If all goes well, the Witch will be able to tell you what some of them mean and hopefully will send you in the right direction from there.”
“And if she can’t translate them?” she asks.
He shrugs apologetically.
“No offense, Nick, but it sounds like we’re setting out with hardly any goal.”
“Well, how are we to know what to do?” interrupts Janie for the first time. “As Nick said, if we knew, we wouldn’t have been waiting for you. For whatever reason, you Marked Ones are appointed for this, Margo, so there’s something about you that can help find the way.”
“She’s right,” says Nick. “You’re the missing key we’ve been waiting for. You’ve been chosen to do this. It’s your destiny.”
Margo’s eyes widen. A spasm of electricity flutters inside of her at the sound of that word.
“Can’t you come with us?” she croaks. “I mean, what if this supposed prophecy was meant for more than one Mark?”
“No, Margo.” Nick shakes his head. “The Queen will soon know that you are here and send her Guard to search the city. They’ll be looking for me since they know I’m a Marked One, myself, and co
uld help you find your way. Besides, I’m an old man now. I’ll only slow you down.”
There’s no way around this. She will have to do this his way even if she has no idea what his way entails — other than the fact that they are heading out with a target on their heads to meet a crazy woman who ironically is called a witch.
“Alright,” says Margo tartly. “I guess I’m ready, then. When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Fine.” She rises to her feet with Cameron following her lead. Grabbing her bag on the way, she turns the knob of Nick’s front door. “Thanks for…” But she cannot finish the sentence; she wishes to end with the word ‘nothing’ if only that were true. As frustrated as she is with Nick, the truth is he had still taken her in when she had nowhere to turn and reunited her with her friend.
“Staying with Cameron?” asks Janie with a giggle.
“See you tomorrow,” is the only answer she receives. The door closes with a rusty, forced click.
Janie turns to Nick, smile replaced with a scowl.
Nick holds up his hands in defense. “What else could I do? What else could I say?”
She sighs, letting off a bit of steam. Though her face is still annoyed, she responds, “I trust you, Nick Thomas. Though I may not know what they are, I’m sure your reasons for doing this are genuine.”
She grabs her shawl and yanks it across her shoulders. Once her purse is over her arm, she, too, pulls the door knob.
The door is forced shut. Nick has placed all of his weight against it, staring at Janie with glistening eyes. “She’s so young…” His voice catches, as he repeats the very words Janie has said throughout the past two days.
A soft smile returns to her lips. The man staring back at her is once again the boy she’s known over the decades. The salt and pepper hair seems to vanish, along with the wrinkles and thick-rimmed spectacles, and she sees the Nick she’s spent the majority of her Jamyrian life with.
“She’s different, though,” Janie reminds him. “Almost as if she bears too many marks for just one person. And that boy… The fact they found each other is unique in itself. What a destiny this one has. It will be a joy to observe her growth.”
Jamyria: The Entering (The Jamyria Series Book 1) Page 10