by A. K. Koonce
There’s probably something in the Surviving Murder handbook about not looking at your captor’s bulge for longer than five seconds. Or ten.
“Fuck.” My fingertips skim over my temple as slicing pain radiates there.
“You just keep getting better by the minute, Prospect.”
I glare over at my captor and sloppily sit up. My heels stab against my own calves as I try to make it to a graceful sitting position in the little seat opposite of the man. Did he…put my shoes on me? Oh God, he’s dressing me up now. My fingers shake against the slick warmth that’s slipping down from my hairline. I wipe the blood away, nearly pushing off the wig entirely.
I try to make sense of everything. The pink fog. The tattooed man. The rowboat. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
“Where are you taking me?” My attention shifts discreetly over the boards at my feet. There isn’t anything. There’s nothing but the oars to act as a weapon. And seeing how I’d be lost at sea, I should probably halt all of my escape plans until we hit the shore again.
“What’s your name?” His gaze trails over every disorderly inch of my body.
“My name’s Fuck You. Where are you taking me?”
“That’s a pretty name, Fuck You. Not something I’d want to say as introduction to my mother, but it’d have a nice ring to it in bed, I suppose.” There’s no amusement in his features as he stares past me at the unending sea beyond. “My name’s Kais St. Croix. I’ll be your guide while in Wander. We are currently headed toward the Wanderlust Kingdom, the Kingdom of Hearts, as some like to call it. There we will meet with King Constantine, Konstance, the royal court, and of course the Profit.”
The prophet, the royal court, King Constantine. These words pass over and over through my mind. Maybe this is just a drunken dream. I take another look at Kais’s features. Could I dream up someone as uniquely perfect as him? My fingers press to the slick wound at my head. Pain stings there all over again. That feels real.
The pink fog. That couldn’t be real. Could it?
“So I’m in Wanderlust?” The word feels odd against my tongue.
He nods without meeting my gaze and continues rowing. I try not to note how the muscles of his biceps constrict hard with every push against the sea. He looks like he’s done this a time or two. I mean, looking at how big his arms are, I’d say he does this a few times a day, really.
Not that I’ve noticed. The Surviving Murder Association would be so damn disappointed in me. They are not going to renew my membership next year if I keep it up.
He’s frightening in a way. Beautiful and frightening. I pause just shortly to try to imagine him without the hundreds of tattoos that slink up underneath the short sleeves of his white t-shirt. I can’t. I can’t picture him without the lines that adorn his body. They only add to his menacing appearance.
“And I’ll be presented to the King?”
Another nod.
“Will I be crowned?” My eyebrows raise as I try to consider just how elaborate I make my dreams nowadays. I can’t decide if any minute now a unicorn will leap from the sea and make all my childhood fantasies come to life or if my teeth are all about to tumble randomly out of my mouth only for me to find myself standing toothless and nude in front of my high school crush.
He scoffs at the word crowned. The first glimpse of a real smile pulls at his lips.
“Doubtful. You’re—” he glances down at the ink scrawling across his arms and hands. “You’re just another number, really. The odds of you being ‘The One’ are unlikely.”
The One.
A frown pulls at my lips.
It’s my dream, asshole. If I’m supposed to be The One, I probably will be.
The sigh that forces from my lungs is more from agitation than exhaustion. I’ve been tired and exhausted since chemo started again, but I feel…different now. A bit more rejuvenated. Maybe nearly dying in the ocean will do that to a person. I don’t know.
I can’t understand anything.
My elbow rests against the hard edge of the boat, and I prop my chin against my hand as I stare out at the drifting sea. It’s quiet but lapping. Constantly moving and yet, going nowhere.
“I wouldn’t get too close.” With a small lift of his chin, he gestures to the waters.
Glimmering flecks of gold shine within the sea. The moonlight plays against the beautiful glinting pieces. It paints it. The tiny hypnotic flecks paint the sea with sparkling light until I can see into the dark depths.
Movement glides through the water in sapphire colors of long limbs that I can’t quite make out.
Water sprays. It flings up violently from the ocean. A long tentacle crawls from the sea and wraps around my wrist. A crushing grip pulls at my hand, and I can’t stop the scream that tears up my throat. My nails claw at the tightening blue limb. In one hard pull, I’m jerked forward. My hand slips beneath the cold, glittering sea. Enormous watchful eyes meet mine from within the water. They narrow on me, the hold on my wrist turning unbearably painful. The force of the creature below pulls harder. It steals the breath right from my lungs as my nose skims the surface of the ocean.
It has me, and it isn’t letting go.
Then a shining object slices through my line of sight. The sound of a blade striking wood thuds hard and jarring. The demanding grip of the tentacle loosens before the slimy limb slides right off my flesh and drops back into the water with a plop. I stare after the drifting and lifeless tentacle for several seconds as my hand rubs back and forth against my wrist.
“I told you not to get too close.” The vacant, bored sound of Kais’s voice pulls at my attention. I sit stiffly back into the center of the boat, careful to hold my hands to my chest as my wide gaze skims along the surface of the endless sea.
With care, he rips the blade from the side of the boat and places the sword behind him. The weapon is out of sight, but it’s very much in mind.
In silence, I watch him row for miles and miles. Cool winds shift against his short blond hair. Chills shiver all through me, but I don’t say another word.
He could have killed me while I slept, but he didn’t. He’s supposedly my guide. For the moment, I do need him. He said there’s only one exit.
That is the real issue here.
“Where’s the exit?” It’s the first thing I’ve said to him in almost an hour. He saved my life—twice—but I just don’t have any kindness to show him.
It’s a conflicting arrangement we have. He stole me away, but he’s also keeping me safe.
There’s no trust between us. Even if he saved me a thousand times, he’s always going to be my captor.
I’ve never known who I can trust. Not in college, not here. I guess growing up with people calling you Sick Girl makes you a little vehement toward others. It isn’t my sweet murderer’s fault I distrust him, but my outlook isn’t going to change any time soon.
“The exit is through Dismay Forest in the Elders’ Kingdom.” His quick answer cuts through my dark thoughts.
There’s no hesitation when he speaks. I ask and he answers. It’s odd. If I am his captive, why would he feed me information so freely? My mind takes in his confusing answer and demands another and another.
“What will the King do with me?”
“If you’re Alice, he’ll keep you. Crown you just like you wanted.” His cold blue eyes meet mine for only a moment. The look in his eyes makes me think he’s the kind of man who’s been hardened by life. It’s hurt him and it shows.
“And if I’m not Alice?”
“Then you’re free to leave, Prospect.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
“It sounds more appealing than Fuck You.”
Damn. He’s right. But the pettiness in me won’t allow me to tell him that.
“And the Prophet, what will the Prophet do?”
That near smile tilts the corner of his lips again as he continues to row us into the distance. God, he’s too attractive when he smiles. If s
ex had a poster child, it’d be Kais St. Croix. Coincidently, if America’s Most Wanted had a poster child, it’d also be Kais St. Croix.
“The Profit,” he enunciates that word in that deep delicious tone of his, but I’m not sure why, “will declare if you’re you or not.”
“If I’m not me, who else would I be?”
In an appreciating way, his gaze trails over my body slowly before coming back to meet my eyes.
I’m a fucking mess, so I don’t have a clue what he sees in me.
“In Wanderlust, you can be anyone. You can be whatever your heart desires.”
A strange feeling flares to life within me, making my heart pound harder. No more Sick Girl. I can be anyone. I can be someone. Finally.
“Unless you’re Alice.”
“And then I’m destined to be the King’s Queen.”
He nods, a subtle movement of his head.
Hmmm…Alice is better than Sick Girl. Not that it matters. I have leukemia. I wonder what their Prophet will say about that.
“Why is Alice so important to the Prophet and the King?”
“The Profit has declared a woman of resilient strength, kindness, and intelligence to be the peace within the two Kingdoms. He says it’ll end all the suffering of our people. Alice will be the final newcomer to this realm. Wanderlust was made for Alice.” Kais pauses to do an inventory of all the bruises and scrapes I’ve done to myself since we’ve met.
I bet I look strong and smart, for sure.
I smooth a clump of mud off of my cotton skirt, and it hits the floor with a sloppy plopping sound.
Yeah, I’m definitely Alice material.
“Why do you think her name will be Alice?” I try my best to brush the random dried blood off my palm and find that a small cut slices down the center of it from my fall in the forest. A sharp breath sneaks in through my teeth as I press too hard on it.
“There are miscellaneous visions here and there. Little details that the Profit has collected over the centuries.”
“Centuries.” My voice cuts through his words as my eyes widen.
“We’ve been waiting a long time for the woman who calls herself Alice. Like I said, it’s not likely that you’re The One. You’re more likely just another brick in the foundation of this world. We’re all rather used to disappointment by now.” His tone makes it sound like he’s only ever disappointed.
Me too, friend, me too.
I stare at him in silence. He avoids my gaze, so I take the moment to just openly study him.
He’d be really sexy if he smiled more. Dangerously sexy. Tattoos, strong body, deep eyes. My mother would be shooing him away with yesterday’s newspaper if she ever set eyes on Kais St. Croix. My virginity on the other hand would be waving him down like a landing strip waiting for a fighter jet to soar right in.
“Don’t look at me like that, Prospect.” He keeps his attention on the sky, somber expression held in place as he keeps a steady pace rowing.
“Like what?” I fight the smile against my lips, trying hard to mimic his careless expressions.
He levels me with a gaze that pours right into me. “Just don’t.”
The small smile that wanted so badly to slip into place falls away entirely. He’s too serious. He isn’t playful. He’s every bit as dangerous as I thought he was when we were on land.
I don’t know why I’m trying to see him in a different light. Stockholm syndrome. Definitely Stockholm.
It’s not like I trust him. He has a long way to go to find the trust that’s somewhere sunken low and forgotten within me.
With another hard push of the oars through the sea, the boat lurches abruptly. My body shifts forward before rocking back. I look up just as he stands. Behind him, up the side of a cliff, high up in the heavens, twinkling lights dot the darkness. A warm golden glow splays around the small lights. There are only a few, maybe a dozen at the most, but they’re a beautiful warm color against the stark dark setting.
A village with broken lamp lights and disorderly shack homes stacked too closely together meets the coast. The lanes of the roads are jagged and carelessly bricked. The entire place looks dark and dirty.
The petite woman who crosses the street is what’s truly unsettling. Her arms reach out for the door of a small house, and the lantern light above shines through the thin white wings on her back. Delicate features lead up to a hairless skull, and two long feathery antennae twitch atop her head.
She slips inside. I’m left gaping in horror at the sight of…the creature. The…moth woman.
Kais climbs out of the small boat with ease, pulling it harder into the sand, making me nearly fall to the floor once again. This time, I stay there for several seconds, my heart pounding, my body unable to move.
Kais seems completely unaware.
The edge of the blade scrapes against the old wood as he pulls it from the floor and slips it carefully into a belt at his hip.
He looks back at the twinkling lights above the cliff. With a snap of his fingers, beaming red embers flare from his fingertips, shooting up into the night sky. The firing color blooms out in waves, lighting up the night with this signal of crimson.
I look to Kais’s palm, but nothing’s there. No flare gun. No fireworks. Just him.
My spine stiffens when his cold gaze settles on me.
He tilts his head at me as if he’s just noticing my unease. As if when I ran from him wasn’t enough for him to know I don’t trust him. But right now, now he sees my apprehension of this place.
This isn’t a dream. It’s a nightmare.
“It’s Wanderlust.” He hesitates, waiting for understanding to fall into place.
It doesn’t.
“Wanderlust is like a feeling. But it’s also a sort of magic this world gives us. The longer you’re here, the more that magic settles into you.”
“M-magic?”
I want to say more. I want to ask about the moth lady, but all I can manage are the uneven breaths that are falling from my lips.
He looks uncomfortable as he stands before me, and I sit gaping up at him. Fear trickles in slowly at first and then it crashes, pressing in on my chest and gripping my lungs.
A light flickers on from high above. It shines through a square window. Another lights up. Another and another and another. Until a daunting castle is outlined against the dark sky on the very edge of the cliff above.
It’s then I realize his magic was a signal. He was signaling that I’m here. He notified the creatures of this land.
“Come. We don’t want to be late.” He extends a big hand to me.
A thousand thoughts fly through my mind. Every one of them is just as stupid and dangerous as the last. But one sticks out among all others.
I need to find Dismay Forest.
The boat shifts beneath me as I stand in my three-inch heels in the middle of the rickety little boat. His pale eyes skim up my dirty white socks over my long legs, torn dress, and tight material before meeting my gaze.
Does he see my intentions there? Does he know?
If I had to guess, I’d say no.
In one swift move, I grab the oar and fling it up with more strength than I’ve had in weeks. The impact of it against his jaw shakes through my hands hard enough for me to drop the thing. An angry curse growls through him. I leap, my heels sinking the moment I touch land.
And then I run.
Four
Sand slides within my shoes with every step I take on the beach. I never once look back. Not even when I enter the dark streets. The uneven cobblestone makes it impossible to run.
Not that I know where I’m going.
He said the exit was through the Dismay Forest though. I’ll find it eventually. I just have to put distance between us. If I could find another woman, someone less creepy, a bit less intimidating, a tad fewer sexy tattoos, then I’ll just ask for directions. Simple. I’m in a mysterious Kingdom filled with massive sea creatures, insect women, and magic, and I’m trying to find l
ogic and reason somewhere in between.
Not a problem at all.
Look at me and all my positivity finally.
Gleaming violet eyes blink back at me from somewhere in the darkness. It’s enough to make me stumble in my tracks. With my next staggering step, an uneven stone in the road hits my heel, and down I go. Pain stabs into my palms, and I search out the watchful eyes.
But they’re gone.
Someone else steps into view though. Big legs lead up to a broad chest, and I’m so hopeful for someone I can trust, someone who can help me. Someone…with many, many thin arms reaching down for me. The man’s touch is like crawling insects along my skin. His countless arms pull me against his big body, and he starts to drag me away into a side street.
My heels scrape against the stone, and I try to find my footing, I try to shove away from him, I try to bite, kick, scream, anything, but he’s too strong. All those slender arms work together, and they crush me to him.
Bile stings my throat the next time I scream, and I see a lone abandoned building up ahead. It’s dark and ominous, and it’s most definitely the place he’s taking me to.
I can’t breathe. There’s not a breath in my lungs, but I scream anyway.
I scream his name despite how much I swore I wouldn’t trust him.
“Kais. Kais. FUCKING KAIS!”
My body jolts forward, the man covering me, slamming me to the ground hard as we both fall. A sharp cracking noise sounds through my head, and the weight pressing down on me is thrown to the side. Kais stands tall, looming over the man with death in his eyes as he glares down on him, his sword held firmly in hand. He arches it up and brings it down in one quick sweep of the blade.
A crying scream and chaotic flipping and flopping follows the slice of the sword. I peer over with disgust to find the man’s many arms convulsing like erratic fish on the ground.
“Touch the King’s property again, and I’ll quarter you.” Kais’s jaw grinds shut, and he sheaths his weapon at his lean hips.
He really is making my demented affection for him worse and worse. Someone needs to slap the crazy out of me now before my irrational affection for this man gets any worse.