by Anna Hill
Jacob’s blood soaked into the sleeves of Trysten’s shirt and continued to spill out onto the pavement around them, though Trysten barely seemed to notice.
“Please,” he whispered down to his friend, his whole body shaking and his tears falling unabated. “Please…”
Without warning, the world around Rebecca began shaking violently. She stumbled and desperately reached out for something to grab onto, but it was to no avail. Unable to stop herself, she fell backwards, slamming her head into the ground.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself back in the garden, lying flat-out on the path in freezing darkness. Her head was spinning, and her vision took far longer than usual to come back into focus. In fact, it felt as if her brain was struggling to adjust to being back inside her own head.
When she was finally able to pull herself together, she sat up and found Trysten sitting a few feet away. He was looking down at himself, frantically searching his clothes and his body. As soon as he realized Rebecca had sat up, he looked over at her, his face a mixture of intense fear and anger.
“You were inside my head, inside my thoughts. You saw my memories, made me relive them…You saw Jacob…his blood, it was everywhere…all over me…It felt like it was happening all over again…”
Rebecca started to move toward Trysten, but he flinched away. “You had no right to do that! You had no right to see those things!” He stood up swiftly, glaring down at her, his eyes filled with pure hatred, “I trusted you…”
Rebecca’s heart sank and she again moved to stand up and get closer to him, desperate to explain. But Trysten instantly vanished--leaving her alone in the dark, silent garden.
Sixteen
For a long time, Rebecca sat in the garden--stuck in a state of shock. She felt goosebumps rise up all over her flesh, saw her swirling white breaths. She knew she was shivering violently, but, truthfully, she felt too sick to care how cold she was. At first, she’d only felt regret, wishing she’d had a chance to apologize, to explain everything to Trysten. Then, fear took over, chilling her more than any outside temperature could. She was scared that Trysten would tell, and frightened of what the others would think of her when he did.
Above all, however, she was terrified of herself, of what she’d done. She hadn’t meant to do it. In fact, she didn’t understand why or how she’d been able to do it. It was as if she’d lost control of herself, of her ability. The past few weeks of peacefulness, of finally feeling as if she had a handle on her dreams, on her gift, had disappeared. She felt her fear and hatred of her ability flood back into her, stronger than ever.
Rebecca stared down at her shaking hands, which rested in her lap. She felt sick to her stomach and weak, like every ounce of strength had been stolen from her. Something was wrong with her, she knew it. Her ability wasn’t a gift, it was a curse, and she hated it more than anything in the world.
Rebecca took a deep, wavering breath, trying to calm her wildly beating heart, and clenched her hands into tight fists. Using what strength she could muster, she stood up, doing her best to remain steady. She needed to talk to Maverick. If any of the crew was going to understand this and help her, it was him. She would confess to everything that had happened, apologize, and then demand that he tell her the truth about what she was. It wasn’t strength driving her to action, it was panic. She needed answers from Maverick. He’d been hiding something from her. She’d known it for a while now and, whatever it was, she deserved the truth. If he knew something, anything that could help her or explain what was going on, then she was going to find out.
Determined, Rebecca headed into the house and straight up to Maverick’s office. She was grateful that she didn’t run into any of the crew as she made her way through the corridor, but she couldn’t help noticing the eerie silence. She made a swift turn at the top of the stairs, and was about to push right into Maverick’s office, when she heard loud voices coming from the other side of the slightly ajar door. She stopped abruptly when she heard Etain yell at Maverick.
“You told me she had dreams, that’s all! I should’ve known what she was after what happened at the safe house. I just didn’t want to believe that she’d done that to the Aillil. Now there’s no denying it!”
“Etain, calm down, she’s…”
“Don’t tell me to calm down. I’ve heard stories of what they could do. She doesn’t even know, does she? I bet you haven’t even told her, have you?”
“There hasn’t been one like her for centuries, and she’s only half Aillil, she may be different.”
“But you don’t know that for sure. She’s dangerous Maverick, to all of us, let alone herself. She’s unstable and I can’t let her be around the others. It’s not safe.”
A sudden wave of sickness hit Rebecca, and she grasped onto the doorframe in an effort to remain standing. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart pounded so loudly that it nearly drowned out their voices. What was she? What could be so wrong with her that she was such a danger to the crew?
Rebecca was just about to burst in and demand to know what was going on when Maverick’s voice stopped her.
“She can’t leave, we need her.” His voice was firm and, from the sound of it, he’d just pushed his chair back and stood up from his desk.
“Need her? What in the world are you talking about?” Etain countered.
“We need her ability. She’s the only one who can get us what we want.”
“What we want? Would you care to inform me exactly what it is that we want?”
“To go home. To find our families.”
“What?”
“Her dreams. She can use them to find the Aillil, to show us where their kingdom is. She can help everyone find their parents.”
Etain was silent for a moment, “Are…are you sure?”
“Yes. Once we’ve trained her to control herself, she’ll be able to do it, without a doubt.”
“So that’s why you wanted her to join us? You’re just using her?”
If Rebecca hadn’t felt sick before, she certainly did now. She stumbled away from the door, crashing into the wall behind her. Her world was spinning, as if the ground had been pulled right out from beneath her feet. She lurched forward in a dry heave, collapsing onto her hands and knees, her shock stealing her breath straight from her lungs.
It had been fake, all of it. Maverick had never felt anything for her, he’d never cared for her. He’d only used her, taken her away from everything and everyone she loved, just so he could get what he wanted. Now she was here, stuck with people who were terrified of her, or who had lied to her, locked up in a place she loathed.
Rebecca’s hatred suddenly boiled over, filling her body with a rage she’d never felt before. In an abrupt burst, she sprung up from the floor and started sprinting. Without hesitation, she ran downstairs, through the corridor, and out into the garden.
She was no longer thinking clearly. All she knew was that she needed to get as far away from this place, and these people, as quickly as possible. She never slowed, never looked back. She just continued running, deep into the forest, further than she’d ever gone before. Her legs were shaking and her lungs were burning, but still she pushed on.
Finally, when it felt as if her legs were going to buckle beneath her, Rebecca began to slow. As if coming from a chimneystack, white haze billowed from her mouth after each panting breath. In the chilly night air, the sweat on her skin froze quickly and shivers overtook her body, but she gave no notice. She still felt hollow, completely empty on the inside. All her life, she’d fought hard to never let anyone in, to keep herself guarded and protected, specifically for this reason. Maverick had played her. He’d used her and she’d allowed him to do it. How could she have been so naïve?
Rebecca was just about to sit down on the frozen ground when she heard a rustle off in the distance. It had only been a small one, but it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
Dropping into a crouch, Rebecca scanned the
surrounding forest. It was fairly dark, but her eyes had already begun to adjust. Although everything around her seemed calm, she couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of being watched.
After a long moment of silence, Rebecca shifted her body and prepared to run. She took a deep breath of air and then burst forward, sprinting through the trees.
It all happened at once, in a flurry of action. The entire forest suddenly began moving with her. Shapes all around her, more than she could count, were rushing through the undergrowth, racing toward her at an alarming speed.
Rebecca dodged and weaved through the trees, her breath coming in heavy gasps. She hadn’t yet recovered from her last run, and her entire body was screaming out for her to stop, but she forced herself to keep going, her fear fueling her blistering sprint.
More than once, she felt the hot breath of someone far too close, and would change directions immediately, diving into thicker undergrowth. She ignored the thorns tearing at her clothes and skin, barely feeling the heavy branches slamming into her as she raced forward. All that mattered was escaping, finding some way to save herself.
It wasn’t long before Rebecca’s legs began to give way beneath her and her lungs were searing with pain from overuse. She knew she’d be forced to stop soon, or risk passing out. Trembling with fright, she scanned the surrounding woods for any possible escape, but there was none.
Not knowing what else to do, she came to a sudden halt beside a large tree, pressing her body against it. Her breathing was strained, her heart raced, and her knees kept collapsing forward, her legs struggling to hold her weight. She listened to the sound of several footsteps racing around her in the dark forest, panic gripping heavily at her chest.
“Find her,” a harsh voice yelled from somewhere in the distance. “Find her now, or I’ll have your heads!”
It was so dark in this deep part of the forest, yet she could still detect the movement of black shadows amidst the surrounding trees. There were so many of them, probing the darkness, all searching, she knew, for her.
Rebecca watched, desperately trying to control her panting breath, as the shapes sped off into the distance, each one gradually disappearing into the darkness.
Finally, when she was sure she was alone, she collapsed forward, hands on her knees. She raked in the air that her lungs so fiercely craved, and her body began to violently shake. Her panic still threatened to overtake her, but she fought it back. She was still alive and that was all that mattered.
Suddenly, she heard a twig crack somewhere to her right, and her breath caught in her throat. She pressed herself even harder against her tree, desperately scanning the surrounding wood.
“My, my, my, what do we have here?”
Rebecca turned to see a tall, green-uniformed figure towering over her. The man’s dark, malicious eyes concentrated on hers, and a satisfied smirk curled up the side of his mouth.
“Take her,” he barked.
Out of nowhere, a gloved hand pressed over her mouth and pulled her into darkness.
Seventeen
Rebecca awoke to a throbbing pain that was emanating from every inch of her body. Even the area behind her eyes hurt, as if tiny blades were being driven into it. When she tried to take in a much needed deep breath, her lungs erupted in a fit of heavy coughing that sent sharp pains throughout her aching body and turned her empty stomach. Once her coughing subsided, she curled her aching body into a tight fetal position on the rough, cold, stone floor, refusing to open her eyes. Yet, even without her sight, she knew exactly where she was. She’d been here before, many times, but only ever in her dreams or, more accurately, her nightmares.
The damp, icy air made goosebumps rise up all over her exposed flesh and the acidic stench of filth and decay burned her nostrils. As terrifying as this cell had been in her dreams, the reality of it was far worse. Pulling her hands up over her face, Rebecca fought back the tears that threatened to surface.
She had no idea how long she remained curled up on the floor, but she stayed awake the entire time. After a while, she ultimately succumbed to her tears, her heavy sobs shaking her entire body and echoing off the bleak, stony walls.
She cried until the tears ceased flowing. Her sadness was replaced by an emptiness that seeped down into her soul.
Finally, Rebecca sat up and scanned the cell. It was exactly how it had been in her dreams. The thick stonewalls around her were covered in dirt and grim that had built up over the ages. The only sound came from the slow, rhythmic drops of water that fell from the ceiling in the far corner of the cell, and the slivers of light that flickered through the small, barred window on the door only added to the feeling of desolation.
The damp, cold air felt as if it were creeping underneath her skin, all the way down to her bones and joints, and no matter how tightly she embraced herself, she was unable to generate any warmth.
Rebecca rested her head on her knees and exhaled slowly, trying to control the anxiety that again threatened to overtake her.
Suddenly, a loud clunk came from across the room, as a heavy metal bolt was pulled back. The rusty hinges on the door creaked heavily as it slowly swung inward, sending dancing flashes of torchlight cascading across the floor.
Rebecca kept her head down, listening as two different sets of footsteps entered the room. Then, once again, the door was swung shut and the bolt replaced.
“Are you done feeling sorry for yourself?” A harsh voice spat at her from near the door.
Rebecca looked up and met eyes with a harsh, tall man in a strict, green uniform. She recognized him instantly as the man she’d seen in the woods before being taken. He was no less frightening now in the cell than he’d been in the forest. His face was thin, with cheekbones so sharp they threatened to pierce through his taut skin. He was older and slim, but held an air of power about him that made Rebecca cower. His mouth was a stiff, straight line across his face, and his dark brown eyes held nothing but hatred.
Rebecca shifted her gaze away from the imposing figure and scanned the area around her. She thought she had heard some other movement, possibly someone else entering the room, but her limited vision could see nothing in the darkness that surrounded her.
“I know you’re an impure, there’s no use trying to hide it.” The man stepped closer to her, slowly bringing his hands back and clasping them behind his back.
“I…I don’t know what you mean.” Rebecca’s voice wavered and she refused to meet the man’s gaze.
“Don’t play games with me girl, I don’t have the time,” he snapped back at her, taking yet another step closer.
Rebecca’s body started to shake with fear as she tried to press herself back even further into the corner. “Really…I don’t know what you want.”
Suddenly, the man made a swift movement with his arm and a thick vine shot up out of the ground, wrapped around Rebecca’s neck, and wrenched her into an upright position. She struggled against the tightening vine, pulling as it closed ever stronger around her throat, slowly closing off her airway.
The man took a final step toward her and leaned over until his face was only inches from her own. A malicious grin split his taut mouth as he watched her struggle. “You think you’re brave? I guess I’ll have to break you of that.”
The man stared at her a moment longer, watching her fight for air, then turned around and nonchalantly flicked his hand. The vine instantly loosened its grip and Rebecca fell to the floor, desperately gasping for air. As she lie trembling on the ground, waves of despair and terror washed over her, plunging her into a state of utter panic.
* * *
At some point during her fit of severe anxiety, Rebecca passed out. Now, she was slowly waking, her whole body extremely sore. Her neck hurt the worse of all. It felt as if someone had stepped on it, each inhale causing sharp, stabbing pains to radiate from her throat.
She sat up, lightly holding one hand around her sore neck. Nothing had changed in the cell; it was still as desolate and depressing as befo
re. There was no way to tell what time it was or how long she’d been locked up, as there were no windows to the outdoors, only the flickering light from the torches on the other side of the door. Feeling her panic slowly rise up again in her chest, Rebecca took a deep breath, willing her mind to calm. For now, there was no way out, and panicking would only make her situation harder to handle.
It had been such a strange sensation when the evil Aillil had attacked her. Just like in the woods, she’d known it was going to happen. She’d dreamt it all more times than she could count. Yet, even with such a warning, knowing exactly how he was going to react, knowing that he was going to strangle her with the vine, she had somehow felt powerless to change what was occurring. It had felt as if she was once again inside the dream, absolutely incapable of altering what she knew was going to happen. What good were premonition dreams if she wasn’t able to change her fate?
Rebecca’s stomach cried out for food. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d eaten, and, as far as she could tell, the Aillil weren’t planning on feeding her anytime soon.
Using the wall to help her stand, Rebecca carefully pulled herself up. It took a minute for her lightheadedness to subside before she could move and, once she did, every single step made her cringe in pain. She was shivering in the freezing air, but determined to keep moving. As sound and thick as the cell walls appeared, she had to see if there was anything in this room, anything at all, that might help her escape.
She’d made it to the opposite wall, when a loud clunk came from the door. Rebecca instantly threw herself backwards, trying in vain to disappear into the shadows.
The door swung open and she heard footsteps enter, but as hard as she searched, she couldn’t see anyone.
“I…I know you’re there,” she called out, unable to hide the waver in her voice.
Suddenly, a man appeared in the center of the cell, staring straight at her. He was very different than the Aillil that had come earlier. He was far younger, no more than a year or two older than her. He was tall and lean, but still formidable in appearance, standing stiffly with his hands clasped behind his back.