Passages (Alternate Worlds Book 1)

by Taylor Leigh

  Victoria flinched from the words. ‘No! It isn’t me—or Tollin! Think about the south, the Blaiden—’

  Andrew tilted his head to one side. ‘The Blaiden have to be getting their supplies from somewhere.’

  Victoria quailed under his piercing gaze. ‘Okay, fine!’ she gasped. ‘It’s the pods!’

  She mentally winced, there was no hope of holding out under Andrew’s deadly gaze. Sorry, Tollin!

  Andrew’s brows dropped. ‘Pods?’

  She heaved a breath. ‘Someone from Scrabia has been sending pods up to Scottorr. That’s why Tollin is here, to investigate what’s inside of them! He didn’t want you to know, he thought you’d get in the way. I think that’s where the spores are coming from. It’s been happening for three years. The Blaiden have been finding them in the forest and stealing them.’

  Andrew leant back in his chair. ‘Ah.’

  ‘You don’t think I’m lying, do you?’ she stammered.

  He studied her thoughtfully. ‘No. If you were lying, I’d know. You’re much too terrible a liar.’ His eyes twinkled.

  Victoria took a deep breath in. Whew.

  Andrew suddenly jolted upright, dropping the book. He rushed hurriedly from the room without a word.

  ‘Hey!’ Victoria called, darting after him.

  Andrew walked at a rigid, clipped pace to his bedroom door and then slammed it shut in Victoria’s face. She heard it lock from the inside and then the heavy thump! as something—she realised Andrew—hit the floor. Victoria threw herself against the door and pounded on it. She’d bloody well had enough of this. ‘Damn it, Andrew! You can’t keep locking yourself up in there every time this happens! Let me in!’

  No response.

  Victoria dashed back to her room and returned with a bent piece of wire for her hair. Over the months she’d learned many things working with Andrew. One of them—over an incident she’d rather forget—involved learning how to pick a lock. Victoria had gotten surprisingly good at it over the months. She jiggled the wire till she heard the satisfactory click of a job well done.

  ‘I’m coming in!’ she announced.

  Victoria forced the door open and stumbled inside the room. She had never been in Andrew’s room before, and under different circumstances, she might have been fascinated. It was dark inside; heavy curtains were thrown over the windows to block out the grey light. Charts and maps covered the walls and taxidermy animals crowded the shelves. Smoke-stained oil lamps were perched precariously on piles of parchment. Strange moving instruments and devices ticked away on tables and tubes full of liquids and powders were clumped together on rickety trays. Everywhere she looked was something interesting, but the area of Victoria’s attention was the floor.

  Andrew was sprawled out, jerking and flopping like some landed fish. His head was turned to one side and his mouth was gaping open, gasping, frothing. His eyes were fixed in her direction, but Victoria wasn’t sure if he could see her or not.

  He gagged and Victoria felt a slight revulsion at the state he was in. Andrew’s back arched and his head turned away from her and up to the ceiling. She froze for a moment, remembering Molly’s words about Andrew’s violent outbursts when he was in the middle of a fit.

  Andrew had exposed Victoria to much over the past three months that she never thought she’d do, but this was different. This was him. She had no idea what to do.

  She pushed the hesitation from her mind and dashed over to him, grabbing the pillow off of his untidy bed as she did so. She slid it under him and tried to prop his head up enough to keep him from drowning on his own vomit. She was amazed that no-one helped him during these times. Did they really despise him so much that they didn’t care if he suffered?

  A slight blue tinge started to colour the corners of his full, parted lips as his breathing became more ragged. A silent panic started to fill Victoria. He couldn’t breathe.

  Andrew made a choking noise that might have been an attempt to say ‘Get out!’ but Victoria pointedly ignored him.

  Victoria pulled him far enough away from a table stacked with precarious objects and watched him completely slip from any form of control. His body jerked and quaked and he choked heavily, slamming his head down onto the pillow repeatedly. Victoria stayed with him through the seizure until, at last after what seemed an eternity, his body quieted and his eyes closed. Victoria rested Andrew’s head in her lap and fought back tears. Slowly, his breathing started to return to normal.

  Victoria sighed and wiped the saliva from his mouth and chin as gently as she could and pulled his damp hair away from his face. He seemed different, lying for once still and quiet, not like when he was thrown into his occasional lethargic depression. This was different.

  She traced the outline of his face, past his angular sideburns and hollow cheeks to his rounded jaw, surprised she was actually touching him for once. No doubt if he were awake he would not allow it. Still, for now, Victoria could just be near him. He looked much younger asleep, more gentle.

  It took some convincing, but she was able to get Thedric, when he passed by, to move Andrew to his bed. Victoria then worked on getting his vomit-stained shirt off of him. He was skinny and pale; she could see his veins under his skin.

  Victoria brewed up a pot of Molly’s herbal concoction, frequently glancing his direction to see if there was any change. She knew she should probably leave, but she was feeling stubborn and stayed with Andrew till he finally came to, an hour later.

  Andrew groaned and coughed. He turned his head to one side before suddenly realising he wasn’t lying on the floor. His brow went down and he opened his eyes to stare up at Victoria. He jerked upright.

  ‘Calm down!’ Victoria said gently, putting a hand on his cold shoulder.

  ‘You? Get out of here! Now!’ he breathed heavily, bare chest heaving.

  ‘Oh, stop it and lay back! You’re not any worse for wear because I saw what hell you go through. Honestly, I don’t know why you insist on suffering alone. After seeing you I know I can’t allow it!’

  Andrew fumed. ‘It’s not something you have to worry about.’ The words passed through clenched teeth. ‘I have it under control.’

  Victoria sat down next to him. ‘Hardly. And you don’t have to suffer on your own. Andrew, you don’t have to keep this from me. You may put up an image for everybody else, but not me. I’m your friend.’

  He glowered steely. ‘Why would I want your help? You’re no different than anyone else! It’s just me and the rest of the stupid population!’ He sniffed.

  Victoria stood up. ‘Fine. You can think that way, but I’m not leaving you be.’ She marched over to one of his tables where the tea was sitting and poured out a cup for him. She then walked back over, shoving aside several unsavoury items from his bedside table to make room for the cup.

  Upon seeing Victoria touching his things, Andrew almost flew into an entirely new fit. ‘What are you doing?’ he gasped, near hysteria. ‘Don’t touch that! It’s supposed to stay there! Don’t move it!’

  Victoria’s hands jerked away from the items on the table as if they’d shocked her. ‘Sorry!’ she gasped.

  Andrew, eyes wild, pushed himself up again. ‘Just get out.’

  Victoria shoved the teacup into his hands. ‘Not until you’ve drunk all of this. You’re going to start taking it from now on, understood?’

  Andrew glowered up at her, disbelieving her audacity in challenging him, but obediently sucked down the liquid. He made a face.

  ‘Don’t you dare spit that back out!’ Victoria snarled.

  Andrew, subdued and sullen, finished the cup. He stood up peevishly once he’d finished. ‘Now will you kindly leave my room so I can dress? Or would you rather supervise that as well?’ He started unbuttoning his trousers. Andrew cared about modesty just about as much as he cared about manners.

  Victoria turned for the door. ‘I think you can manage that bit on your own. Mind what you put on, it’s a surprisingly cool evening.’

&nb
sp; She had been waiting for the greater part of twenty minutes and was just beginning to believe that Andrew was not going to emerge at all, when he finally appeared in the doorway of the main hall’s sitting area. He had cleaned himself up nicely, not that Andrew ever cared much about how he looked. He always had an unkempt air about him, though he was always immaculate, and tonight he seemed to have taken extra care. He strode into the room, straightened his shirt, and then walked up to where Victoria was sitting. He didn’t make eye contact when he spoke, which was usual, but seemed more of a challenge than normal. His whole demeanour was downcast, miserable, almost sheepish. Victoria couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, no matter how beastly he’d behaved.

  ‘I…apologise for earlier. Sometimes I forget myself when I’m not entirely…myself. And whatever I said…well, you are my friend, Victoria, I’m not ashamed to admit that.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Thank you. For what you did. That was…good.’

  Victoria smiled gently and sat up straighter. ‘You’re welcome.’

  He nodded stiffly, not seeming to know what to do with himself now that his speech was over. He swung his arms.

  Victoria patted the empty seat next to her. ‘You can make up for it by sitting with me.’

  He frowned. ‘Why?’

  Victoria shrugged. ‘Because we’re friends.’

  Andrew sat down uneasily. He absently reached for his stringed instrument, as if his hands couldn’t bear to be parted with it.

  Victoria looked over at him. ‘You know, I’ve been thinking.’

  ‘About?’

  ‘The murder.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Victoria turned to face him full on, pulling her knees up under her. She’d been brooding over their previous conversation since she’d left him and had been struggling with growing impatience to share it with him. ‘If those spores meant so much to Chance that he was willing to kill for them—’

  ‘Ah!’ Andrew’s eyes lit up.

  Victoria smiled. ‘Exactly. He’s not just going to leave them there. I bet you anything he’s going to come back for them!’

  ‘We’ll have to be ready for that. He won’t try tonight. Everyone is still up in arms looking for him and his ship, but a small sailing ship like that can’t last long on the open water and anyway it doesn’t have enough supplies on-board. He’ll be back. I’ll have Thedric post a watch. Good work, Victoria. Just when I think you’re nothing but one of the other idiots around here you manage to surprise me!’

  And that was all he said. For the rest of the evening, Victoria sat in comfortable silence, listening to him play, gloating in his odd praise and hoping she was right. If Chance had spores from Scrabia, she wanted to know where he got them. Perhaps someone else from her planet was here as well.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Tollin sat across from Molly in the library. He stared at her, drumming his fingers together, brown eyes wide. They had just gotten back from their fifth trip visiting Story, and Tollin couldn’t shake the growing feeling of agitation since then.

  From what he knew now, the Blaiden were taking over quickly and steadily and the Druids’ hands were tied on the issue. Most of the Druids seemed to feel—at least quietly—that Flynn’s decision was wrong, but Flynn had changed drastically over the past three months. Story reported that he was infected with the sickness now and was quickly turning into a savage like the Blaiden.

  Tollin was out of ideas. He knew that the poison came from Scrabia and that the Denizens sent it. He knew that the Denizens were closely affiliated with the Daemons and whatever they were attempting was most likely Daemon inspired. That in itself was reason for him to stop it. The only problem was, he didn’t know how to fight it. The spores that Andrew had found confirmed his suspicions about what they were dealing with, but Andrew wasn’t going to give them up easily and Tollin still didn’t know where the pods were or how people were getting their hands on the dry spores. It was frustrating to say the least.

  He let out a groan and drug his hands across his face and up through his hair.

  There were times when he hated the limited technology in this Realm. Simply calling Arkron would be so much easier. They could compare notes. Perhaps she knew something he didn’t. She was older than him after all, she knew things. Victoria might know how to stop them as well; he knew some spores were tricky to destroy. That was one of the reasons he’d brought her along, but so far, she hadn’t been that helpful. He was running out of time! Spores could be very aggressive and hard to stop, especially when they were airborne, or diluted in water.

  Whatever the Denizens and Blaiden were up to he had no idea how to stop; it was something of a first for him.

  ‘The poison is coming from Scrabia, we know that much,’ he said, surprising Molly with his suddenness. ‘It was sent up in the pods. If I’m not mistaken it’s the same poison that Andrew found. Spores.’

  ‘Andrew found spores?’

  Tollin nodded. ‘Oh, yes. He’s trying to keep it a secret but I have my ways.’

  Molly mused over that for a moment.

  Tollin continued. ‘That’s where the real problems begin. Scrabia has more than two-hundred different species of shrooms, each of which produce different spores—that are known about. About eighty per cent of those have none-lethal hallucinogenic effects. Another sixty per cent of those are yellow in colour, like the ones Andrew found. All of them have similar, yet different effects and without finding some distinguishing characteristics, I can’t figure out what these are. I don’t know much about the spores, but they’re obviously in the water, so that narrows down the list somewhat. It’s a bit difficult to know if they’re polluting the air or not but I think we can assume that they are. The problem is: what do we do about it? We have to find a way to counteract the effects.’

  Molly nodded. ‘Like an antidote?’

  ‘Precisely.’

  Molly stood and motioned for Tollin to follow. They left the library and walked the short distance to the apothecary. Molly started sorting through her herbs the second she got there. ‘We have several different tonics that I can make that help people with hallucinations and poisons, but from what I’ve heard I don’t think that any of these will do any good.’

  Tollin turned round, smiling in wonder. ‘Always amazes me. As primitive as you all are—and please, don’t take offence to that—you’ve got an amazing amount of equipment and knowledge when it comes to medicine! Brilliant!’

  Molly offered him a small smile. ‘As I was saying, there are a few treatments. I learned some of them from the Druids when I lived with them. We treated a wounded Blaiden once, come to think of it. The Druids offered him something, he was sick in the mind; they gave him something that made him better. I think it was called stoneflower. It made him better. He didn’t want whatever was ailing him anymore. He was cured.’

  Tollin pulled his brows down in thought. ‘If they were treating a Blaiden man then there’s a chance he was high on the spores.’

  ‘I’m almost sure of it.’

  ‘How many years ago was that?’

  ‘About three.’

  ‘Ah! Imagine: a flower that cures people of addiction! That’s brilliant! I’ve never heard of such a thing! People wouldn’t want to take them anymore!’ He laughed. ‘Fantastic! Do you think you could get your hands on one of those flowers?’

  Molly sighed. ‘It will be difficult. The flowers were rare, from what I could understand. They came from the Druids’ southern land, maybe even Blaiden territory.’ She winced slightly, touching her temple.

  Tollin drummed his fingers on the table, starting to drift off into distant thoughts. ‘If we acquired some, do you think you could make it work?’

  Molly debated for a moment, smoothing the leaves of some dried lavender. ‘Perhaps. It’s hard to know without a patient, but it does seem to be our best chance.’

  Tollin nodded. ‘We’re going to the keep tomorrow. Let’s hope I find something there.’ He looked back at her, keeping hi
s gaze steady. ‘Time is running out.’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Rain was coming down in sheets so hard Victoria was afraid to take her eyes off of it. It was like a waterfall hitting the window. The outside was obscured by the torrent; she could barely make out the cedars and maples tossing in the wind.

  Victoria rested her forehead against the cold glass, feeling the vibration of the water as it pounded the side of the stone keep. Part of her was fascinated by the fury of the storm, but that was gradually being outweighed by her extreme boredom.

  The storm had been raging for two days already. Two days of staying trapped inside with little to do besides dictate to Andrew and count the knots on the wooden walls. She let out a moan and thumped her forehead against the window again, willing the rain to let up. Behind her, curled up in a green armchair next to the fire, was Andrew.

  They were in the library and she had decided she didn’t care much for the place. It was haunted by draughts and gave her the shivers. She couldn’t help but feel there were things creeping about in the shadows, watching. It gave her imagination fuel to run wild.

  Andrew cleared his throat.

  ‘Any time you want to come back to the real world, Victoria. I want to make sure I have these translations down correctly.’

  Victoria tore herself away from the window reluctantly. ‘When will it ever let up? It doesn’t seem possible the sky could hold that much water!’

  Thedric and Molly were both lying on the floor, a chess set between them. ‘It’s tempest season!’ Thedric said, scowling at the chess board. ‘Always rains like this. Heavy rains and then hot weather.’

  Molly knocked over one of his bishops and he swore violently.

  They had come at Tollin’s rather adamant urgings. He had spent most of his time out of sight in the forest, tromping about with Molly. Victoria assumed they were out pod hunting but every time they came back they were laden down with different flowers. Unfortunately, she couldn’t figure what they were off about because the entire time she’d been trapped with Andrew. From what she could tell from Tollin, he didn’t seem to be getting very far with whatever he wanted, and the frustration was showing. Her own frustration was coming out towards Andrew as well. He had been pushing her hard lately to get the book finished and she was finding it all rather taxing. When Andrew had a set goal in mind he worked at it obsessively, and when he could get away with it, without rest. It was exhausting and she was quickly coming to the end of her patience with him.