Blind.
“Oh, don’t be alarmed, children.” She holds out a fist dotted with rings made of precious metals and jewels. “I won’t bite.” Then she opens it, revealing long, wrinkled fingers and sparkling white cubes in her palm. “Please, have one. My treat to you. And sit anywhere you’re comfortable.”
We each pluck a cube and spread out on the chairs and benches surrounding her. I take a seat on the bench to Cheyenne’s right, Smudge’s left, and Jax sits down next to me. Together, we drop the cubes into our mouths. The celestial sweetness disintegrates, dissolving into liquid pleasure on my tongue. “Wow . . .” Chill bumps rise on my arms from the sweet euphoria in my mouth.
“These are damn good.” Jax swipes another cube from Cheyenne’s still-open palm. “What’re they called?”
“Sugar cubes. From Alzanei. I’ve got a lifetime’s supply.” Cheyenne grins, nearly toothless. “Raffai was kind to get them for me, for what they took from me.” And she points to her scars.
“Who did that to you?” I ask. “The Clergy?”
“Yes, my dear. That’s them. The Soultakers.”
“Soultakers?” I say. “I’ve never heard them called that before.”
Cheyenne struggles to rise from her seat, but soon gives up and plops back down. “Well, it’s what they are, dear.” She motions for me to come closer.
I hesitate, but Smudge gestures for me to go ahead, so I get up and approach Cheyenne.
“May I have your hand, please?” She extends hers toward me. “I’ve waited so long for this.”
“Um . . . okay.” I place my hand into her cool, soft one, and she brings her other up to meet it.
“You have an aura about you.” Another toothless grin.
“Aura . . . was my mother’s name.”
She nods, traces the lines in my palm, the muscles in her face tense, then relax, then tense again. She taps a fingertip in the center. “What a journey you have been on, Joy Montgomery.” And she places one hand over her heart, a sadness sweeping over her. “But it isn’t over yet.” She shakes her head. “No . . . I’m afraid you have much farther to go.”
Her words strike a minor chord of truth in me, reverberating with my bittersweet nightmare. “My father said the same thing to me in a dream last night.”
“I’m sure he did, dear.”
“Well . . . what does it mean?”
“The details are never clear, but the lines don’t lie . . . This hero’s journey you’re on will end in tragedy—”
“That’s damn good to know.” Johnny slaps his knee.
“But”—Cheyenne squeezes my hand—“it will also end in triumph. Great achievements come with great sacrifice. And luckily for your friends, and for the children, you have an iron strength and a heart of pure gold. With you to lead them, and your father’s spirit to guide you, they’ll be all right in the end. You are a seeker, my dear, and you’ll find the keys you need. Lives will be lost, sacrifices will ensue, but love will prevail.”
“How do you know all of this?”
She breathes a soft sigh. “The Soultakers thought if they took my sight, I’d no longer be able to see the truth, and therefore, speak it. But instead, they awakened something pure and fathomless. They enabled me to experience a world beyond . . . to see with the soul. Since I entered the darkness, my perceptions have become ever clearer.”
We sit in silence while I struggle to remain calm. Hearing twice in less than twelve hours that I’m doomed is alarming, to say the least.
“I’m sorry, dear,” Cheyenne says. “I know you’re scared. But you have to trust Life. Be strong.”
“He . . . said that, too.”
Her saggy cheeks rise with another smile. She pats my hand and tosses two sugar cubes into her mouth. “Your father was a smart man, a good man. Wouldn’t surprise me if he were with you every step of the way. And that should ease your mind some. You’re never alone, Joy Montgomery.”
“I know.” My voice shakes with too much emotion.
Jax raises a finger in a moment of realization. “How the heck do you paint so well, if you can’t—?”
“The body and mind are miraculous; they adapt when the need arises. Fingers can see.” She wiggles hers in the air, and inhales. “A nose, too. But the heart and soul see clearest.” And at this, she lowers her head, dropping her hands into her lap. “I suppose that’s the thing that saddens me the most.”
“About what?” I ask.
“Well . . . stealing my eyes didn’t take my soul. But those transfers . . . They are stealing souls—the minds of the innocent, to put into their machines, for their own selfish deliverances. Those brutes have hundreds now, imprisoned in their man-made Purgatory. Breaks this old woman’s heart.”
“Where do they keep them?”
“Most are in the laboratories building, in a secret area called The Soul Room. Not many know the exact location. Not many humans, anyway.”
In my peripheral, Smudge turns away, but soon meets my questioning gaze. She drops her own to the floor, hands fidgeting. She knows where this Soul Room is.
After a long, awkward silence, Smudge speaks up. “Well, we better be going. It’s almost storytime.”
“Ah well, it’s always a pleasure.” Cheyenne wiggles her fingers in the air; a goodbye. “You children visit me anytime, please.”
Smudge crosses the small room to plant a soft kiss on Cheyenne’s cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Sadie, dear.”
“I’ll come by with tea.”
Cheyenne beams. “You’re such a sweetheart for spoiling me.”
“Well, you deserve to be spoiled. I’ll stop by later this evening.”
“I’ll be here! Bye-bye, children. It was a pleasure meeting you all.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Cheyenne.” I offer her my hand to shake.
Instead, she pulls me down to her, folds me up in her arms like she’s known me her whole life. “Stay strong. Break through the illusion and rise.” She kisses my cheek, then pats me on my way.
“Thank you. I’ll . . . do my best.”
After Jax and Johnny mumble their goodbyes we exit the hut. I’m even more astonished now by the intricate details in the blind woman’s art. Not to mention, shaken by her foretelling of my bleak future. I push the thought away. Best not to worry about it; just dismiss these stories from an old woman’s frail mind. Though I can’t deny their resemblance to what my intuition tells me.
I chew my thumbnail in contemplation. “Smudge, how did she—?”
“She knows things. She has an . . . evolved . . . human psyche.”
So much for my “old woman’s frail mind” theory.
“She’s really old.” Johnny flicks the brim of Old Jonesy’s hat. “Same with Professor Al. Does that mean everyone gets to grow old in Alzanei?”
“Not . . . everyone.” Smudge puts her hood on and tightens the drawstring. “Only a select few, those who have served and pleased Lord Daumier. Cheyenne was once—” She turns to gaze off into the distance, then stares at the ground.
Johnny wraps her up in his arms. “You don’t have to tell us. It’s fine.”
“Thank you.” She glances up at him, and he kisses her cheek.
“Anytime.”
When we get to the door of the Children’s and Medical Center, we’re greeted by the sound of Baby Lou’s screams. Ms. Ruby opens the door, and Baby Lou dives at me from her arms, gasping and distraught.
“Shh, Baby . . . it’s okay.” I cradle her in my arms. “Momma’s here. Shhh . . .”
She’s had trouble adjusting to my not being around her all day. When I insisted on caring for her instead of attending Studies, Ms. Ruby insisted that I needed a break, to take some “time for myself.” I still feel guilty for leaving Baby Lou, but I must admit, it’s been a slight relief. M
othering is hard work.
“How long has she been crying?” I rock her in my arms. Within seconds, she’s quiet and sucking her thumb, a new habit she must’ve picked up from Chloe.
“Ten minutes or so. She usually wants ya when she wakes up from her nap.”
Baby Lou bats at my face with a chubby hand, sniffles. “Ma-ma?”
“Yes, Baby, I’m here. But you’re safe with Ms. Ruby, too, okay?”
“Booby, too?”
We all share a giggle. “Yes, honey. Ms. Ruby will take good care of you.”
She sniffles again and lays her head against my shoulder, reaching up to twist one finger around a strand of my hair.
Ms. Ruby inspects the wet spot on her robe, left behind by Baby Lou’s tear-streaked face, and she grins. “Even when they’re a handful, they’re still a blessing.” She rubs Baby’s arm and looks at me. “Did Mr. Tanner give ya some-ting for the nausea?”
“Yes, I feel one hundred percent better.” I dig the leaf satchel from my pocket and show her its contents. “He gave me these to chew when the nausea comes on.”
“Oh, Dahli is very good. Perfect, yes, dear.”
“I was finally able to eat. And it was delicious, by the way. You’re an amazing chef.”
“Well, thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it. So you’re up for tellin’ a story, then?”
“I am.”
“Fantastic. They’re waiting for ya in the common area.” She waves and heads down the hallway toward the end where the kitchen is, her flowing lavender house robe fluttering behind her. “And if ya need me, I’ll be in the kitchen, cleanin’ up.”
“Okay, thank you.” We follow her until we reach the common area doorway, where Tallulah, Vila’s unusual, long-tailed animal from the Subterrane, perches by the doorway, twitching her whiskers. She blinks her big yellow eyes at us, snips a bite off of a cracker in her tiny paws, then crams the whole thing into her mouth. Didn’t take her long to get used to us all, and now she’s everyone’s pet. The way she hops from lap to lap, taking “surprise treats” from under the table, scraps of things the children don’t care for, I’d say she’s found her own kind of heaven here in Zentao.
When we enter the room, the youngers cheer and race to the pile of pillows. I’m so grateful not to be nauseous, I could sing. My nightly storytelling is the only thing I miss from the Tree Factory other than my escapes to the bunkers with Jax . . . and Aby and Miguel. It was a light that shone in the darkness, a star that lit our path, brought us together, and showed us everything would be all right. And although we lost a few heroes along the way, we saved innocent lives. That heartbreaking truth will fuel many tales from now until the end of my days.
“What story are you tellin’, Joy?” Six-year-old Raven props a hand on her hip and cocks her head. “It better have a happy ending, or I’m not listening.” I try to remind myself that she’s been through a lot. Maybe she’s a born leader or something, like her grandpa, and that’s where the attitude comes from. I need to give her a chance, I know. We all have different ways of coping with loss.
I clear my throat. “Today, I’m telling the story of Billy’s Dragon. And to make up for the days I haven’t told one, I’ll also tell a short love story.”
“Why a love story?” a boy whines.
“They’re the greatest stories ever told. How love can conquer evil, how it outlasts death; love has many stories, and they deserve to be told.”
“I guess.” He buries his face into a pillow.
“She’s right.” Jax takes a seat at the table by the window. “So hush and listen. I bet you’ll enjoy it.”
I take a deep breath to begin . . .
. . . when the lights go out.
Baby Lou claws at me, and the children scream.
“What the hell just happened?” Jax yells.
My heart pounds against the wall of my chest. Zentao is dark through the window. Reddish-orange emergency and green oxygen lights glow around the circumference of the ceiling, outlining the walls of our cell. A panel slides up over the window, shielding away the view before the children get to it.
“Somebody tell me what the hell’s going on!” Jax’s voice is louder now, while he gets closer, stumbling my way in the dark.
Ms. Ruby appears in the doorway with a tray of tiny candles in glass holders. She lights them, one by one. “Joy, please help me put these on the tables.”
“What’s happening?” I take a few lit candles into my hands.
“I’m not sure.”
I rush to spread the candles around the room, setting one per table. “Mateo, Vila, Pedro, and Emerson were on the beach!”
“I suppose they’ll be wantin’ an explanation soon, too, then!” Ms. Ruby calls over to me.
“They aren’t the only ones!” Jax pushes through the chaotic cluster of frightened bodies, with Johnny close behind. “What is this place? Where the hell are we?”
“What was it, man?” Johnny asks. “What’s outside?”
“I knew something was off, here.” Jax shakes with rage and fear, scowls at Ms. Ruby with balled fists. “Tell me now! Where we are?”
“Please, Jax,” she says. “Let’s go into the hallway.”
“Smudge, where are you?” I call into the shadowy chaos.
“Over here!” She sets the last candle on a table in the far corner.
“We’re going in the hall for a few minutes. Can you stay with the children?”
“Of course.”
I take a candle and disappear into the dark hallway with Ms. Ruby, Jax, and Johnny.
“Are we underground?” Jax is an inch from Ms. Ruby’s face now. “There’s walls out there. And lights—”
I grip his arm. “Get out of her face—”
“What are you sayin’, man?” Johnny steps closer.
The front door slams open, and Vila bursts through it, followed by Emerson, Mateo, and Pedro.
Vila charges Ms. Ruby, shakes her by the shoulders. “Why are we in a fucking box?”
“Get your hands off of her!” I grab two handfuls of Vila’s hair, pull her back with a fierce twist and yank.
“Ow! Let go, you bitch!” She releases Ms. Ruby, who gasps and drops to a crouch. Emerson rushes to her side.
I whip Vila around and slam her body against the wall, then clutch her throat and squeeze, cutting off her air. I lean in close, jaw clenched. “If you ever touch her again, you’ll be fish food. Square?”
Her face is bright red as she tries to form words. I release my grip enough for her to speak.
“Square.”
I let her go, and she drops to the ground, struggling to draw a breath.
Emerson steps in the middle of us. “Okay, let’s everyone just calm down now.” He rubs Ms. Ruby’s trembling arm. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Yes, dear. I’m okay.”
“What’s going on?” Pedro folds his arms across his chest. “I feel like I just woke up from a really good dream and someone zapped me with a million volts of bullshit. Is this some kinda cruel joke, Mizz Ruby?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not a joke.”
“You knew about this, Joy?” Mateo asks.
I swallow hard. And nod.
“And you didn’t tell us?” Jax drops his fists by his side; a state of momentary shock. “You didn’t tell . . . me?”
“I wanted to tell everyone soon. I was . . . waiting for the right time—”
They all speak at once. Oh how I wish Smudge had never told me.
“Let’s all just hush now.” Emerson holds up a hand. “Let her speak. I’m sure she has a good explanation for why she didn’t tell us the truth about this place.” And he directs his stare toward me. Hurt, yet so forgiving, he urges me on. “Joy?”
“I . . . I wanted you all to be happy. At least for a little while lon
ger.” Tears well, then stream down my cheeks. “I didn’t want it to be true. Everyone trusted me to keep them safe, to get them to paradise, and when I finally did . . . it’s another prison! An illusion! Can you imagine? I never meant to lie to anyone. I just . . . didn’t want to break your hearts.”
We fall silent while I stand in tears before their judgment. Jax’s stare hurts the most—cold and resentful. He shakes his head in disgust and turns away.
Mateo wraps his arm around my shoulder. “It’s okay, Joy. It must’ve been hard for you, not knowing how to tell us. Not wanting to let us down. I can understand that.”
“Well, that makes one of us.” Vila rubs her red, swollen neck.
“No, I’m with Mat,” Emerson says.
“Me, too,” says Pedro. “Joy wouldn’t ever want to deliberately deceive us. It was an honest mistake.”
Jax whips around to Ms. Ruby again. “Where are the lanterns?”
“There’s a few in the kitchen, dear.”
He pushes through everyone, snatching the candle from my hand, then heads down the hall. With Vila at his heels, they disappear through the doorway of the kitchen. We stand in still darkness for a moment, listening to the children’s soft murmurs drifting out to us from the common area, and voices from the medical wing, bodies scurrying about over there.
Jax emerges again, shaking a liqui-light lantern, and they charge toward us. Vila drops the candle onto the ground in front of me as she passes, and with one hostile glimpse back, Jax yanks the front door open, and the two of them exit into the darkness.
Mateo brushes my arm with a finger. “Joy? Where are we?”
I retrieve the candle at my feet, and Ms. Ruby lights it with a match. “Deep underground, near Alzanei . . . I think.”
“But the sky”—Pedro points at the ceiling, then throws a thumb over his shoulder—“and the ocean . . . How—?”
“They’re called horizon screens. They display the images like the television in the common area. The ocean only goes a few hundred feet before it stops at a wall that makes the waves. The water comes from the river, and the salt in it . . . from the saltmines.”
The Soultakers (The Treemakers Trilogy Book 2) Page 4