Unblemished

by Sara Ella

  His comment strikes me, and I realize I’ve never seen him fight. Is he an archer like Makai and Preacher? A knife fighter like Ky?

  “All I ever wanted was to serve the Verity, to see its vessel put on the throne. When Makai assigned me to you, I had no idea what to expect. Then I saw you that first day, and I knew who you were. It was then I realized just how important my task was.”

  He tells of our first encounter as if reminiscing with an old friend. Is he as fond of the memory as I am?

  “Anyway.” He leans on a bookcase, crossing his legs. “I’d like you to take it. Elizabeth would want you to have it.”

  I lift the book to my nose. Inhale. “She’s a Scrib, isn’t she?”

  Joshua nods.

  All this time I never knew. I picture Mom. This Reflection depicted—no, recorded—in her artwork. Her crossword puzzles and piles upon piles of sketchbooks. Urging me to write down her adages. Repeating them to me over and over and over again.

  I slide the book into my pack, careful not to tear the curling pages. “Thanks.” I want to add I miss him. That I hate this weird thing we’ve become. Instead I let it be. This moment—it’s the perfect way to say good-bye. “I’ll see you around?”

  He nods but doesn’t smile. “See you.”

  I hold out my hand.

  One long inhale, and then he takes it.

  Unlike our curt handshake at the Village, rushed and forced, this one feels like a true ending. Sad but real. Then the mood between us shifts. He doesn’t let go, and neither do I. Joshua strokes the inside of my wrist with his thumb. It’s a brief thing, but the infinitesimal gesture says so much, reminds me—

  His eyes flick to a spot below my chin. “What’s that?”

  Huh? Oh . . . My fingers graze the button necklace at my collarbone. “Ky made it for me.” I’ve been wearing it since we left the Village. Is he just now noticing?

  “What happened to the one I gave you?”

  Does he have any idea how much it broke my heart when I lost his gift? If he did, would he care? “I lost it.”

  Joshua’s eyes darken. “Probably for the best. Once you return to the Third, I won’t need to track you anymore.” He stiffens and pulls away. “If I hear anything from Lark, I’ll let you know.” He turns around, a cue my welcome is worn.

  I nod even though he’s not looking at me, our perfect good-bye now ruined. I creep down the steps and leave the way I came.

  Unsure.

  The cart driver waited for me, something no cabbie would do without guaranteed payment. He drops me at the Physic’s cabin, but Robyn and Wade aren’t here. And where’s Ky? He was crashing on one of the hammocks. Now all are vacant.

  The road of shops, bustling with activity only hours ago, is now void of life. Where is everyone? Panic swells. This is bad.

  Pop, pop, pop.

  I’m running, tripping, hauling my way through streets, only stopping to breathe when I can’t stand not to.

  And then I see them. A crowd gathered in a clearing just ahead. Someone’s shouting. Another is wailing. What in the—?

  A hand fastens over my mouth, dragging me back, down to the ground. I kick and claw. But then my captor comes around and faces me. Breathe. It’s only Ky.

  He lifts his hand. Puts a finger to his lips.

  I nod, afraid to as much as blink.

  Ky clutches my hand like a lifeline, and together we slink under the cover of the trees, keeping a wide berth between us and the mob. He leads me to an outcropping of boulders.

  I peer through a crevice at the horror scene ten feet away. Soulless dot the area, weapons in their possession ranging from swords and machetes to shotguns and crossbows. One guard restrains Wade, presses a jagged knife to his throat with a black-veined hand. Wade’s arms are pulled tight around his back, his contorted face an agonized version of his former persona.

  Beyond him Haman stands with his back toward us, a handgun aimed at the ground. No, not at the ground. At an owl.

  Lark.

  “I will execute one rebel every hour until you relinquish the girl. Do not think His Sovereignty will be fooled. Once we have her, you will be free to live in peace.”

  The crowd falls silent. My heart aches. These people don’t even know me, yet they would die before they’d turn me in to Haman?

  But it’s not really me they’re protecting, it’s their king. How could I forget?

  I train my eyes on Lark. She’s just lying there, unmoving. Is she already dead? I squint, zeroing in on her middle. Up, down. Up, down. She’s breathing. Not dead. Yet.

  Haman’s particular Shield Calling didn’t work on Wren when she rescued us from the bridge. What did Ky say? Shields can only affect someone in human form? Must be the reason for so many guns—to compensate for the limits on the Callings. Did Jasyn send his assistant into the Third for the modern weaponry? I remember Haman having a gun, but this—

  Ka-chick. He cocks the gun.

  No. This is happening too fast. We need more time.

  “One!”

  I lunge forward, but Ky wrestles me back, wraps his arms around me, locking me in place.

  “Two!”

  “Use your Calling,” I beg Ky. “Paralyze him! Make him stop!”

  “I can’t. Shields can’t affect other Shields, remember?”

  “Your knife then.”

  “No. I won’t jeopardize our position.”

  I cover my mouth to stifle sobs.

  Before Haman reaches three, a section of the crowd parts. Robyn in tiger form bolts into the clearing, charges Haman.

  He re-angles his gun just as she pounces. “Three.”

  An earsplitting growl. Thud.

  Robyn’s blood stains the ground.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  I Didn’t See It

  Tears. Snot. Spittle. Bodily fluids seep from my eyes, my nose, my mouth. I suck them back. Only blood is missing. The blood I should’ve shed. The blood Robyn didn’t deserve to.

  That murderous, good-for-nothing—I’ll kill him. I don’t know how or when, but somehow I’ll find a way.

  “Revenge looks sweet on the outside, but its center is full of worms.”

  Enough with the adages, Mom. Silly little sayings won’t bring Robyn back. I have to do something. No one else can be harmed because of me.

  Cursed birthmark. Haven’t you caused enough trouble? Mom. Joshua. Ky’s sister. Did you have to take Robyn too?

  I squirm and Ky squeezes tighter. He puts his mouth to my ear. “We have to go, Ember. She’s gone. You can’t save her.”

  How can he be rational? A girl just died for Verity’s sake!

  The Soulless holding Wade releases him. The Physic stumbles to Robyn’s side. She’s transformed back into her human self, no longer alive to retain her feline state. Wade removes his jacket. Drapes it over her naked, lifeless body.

  My stomach clenches into a fist. I can’t watch this. I twist, pressing my face into Ky’s shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, Em.” He whispers the shortened version of his nickname for me with more tenderness than I’ve ever heard him use. “But we have to go.”

  I pull back. Golden flecks I never noticed before dance in his green eye. I shake my head, hysterics rising. “We have . . . sob . . . to get . . . sob . . . Joshua.” I inhale, exhale, bite my lower lip. “His blood . . . sniff . . . can save . . . sniff . . . her.” And what about the others? Lark, Kuna, Preacher, Stormy?

  Ky’s mouth turns down as he rubs little circles on my back. “If David revealed his Calling, Haman would know what he is, and we couldn’t place a worse weapon in Crowe’s hands right now.”

  My knees buckle. Ky holds me up, the rock I so desperately need. “We have to at least warn him.”

  “David can take care of himself.” Ky looks past me, eyes scanning, the Guardian in him shifting to full throttle. “He would want me to get you to safety.”

  Safety? Wasn’t the Haven supposed to be safe? “But Haman could hurt him.”

  �
�If he gets the chance, but David’s not stupid. He’ll figure something out.”

  A scream severs the blip in this tragedy’s reel.

  I whip my head around. Through the boulders I see the human Wren wailing. She’s on her knees, hovering protectively over her sister’s form.

  Lark transforms into her human self, takes Robyn’s limp hand.

  Wren scowls, pushes Lark away. “No, Mother. You do not get to mourn her.”

  Mother? Oh my—that’s why Lark’s name sounded familiar. Wade mentioned her. Robyn said she’d left.

  Wade lifts his tunic over his head and lays it across Lark’s shoulders. He helps her to her feet, holds her as if she never left.

  Wren rises, a pillar of hatred and fury. “Where is she?” Wren screams. “Who’s hiding her?”

  My heart shrinks to my spine.

  Haman chuckles.

  The people lower their heads, not one meeting Wren’s fiery glare.

  She spins, her braid lashing her face like a whip. “How long before another innocent dies?” Her shoulders heave with each seethed word.

  Two Soulless, weapons drawn, converge and shield Haman. Morons. As if he needs their protection.

  Haman parts the guards as if opening a sliding glass door. He strokes his chin, steeples his long, bony fingers. “I do love a good revenge scene.” His upper lip curls, revealing his silver tooth. “I’ll strike a bargain with you, girl. You have one day to seek the girl and return her to me. During those twenty-four hours, I swear I shall not so much as snap my fingers near a rebel.”

  Captain Hook’s voice echoes Haman’s words in my mind. “I have given me word not to lay a finger, or a hook, on Peter Pan.” Yeah. Right.

  “Fine.” Wren offers her hand. “I bind you to your vow.”

  Haman leans down and kisses the heel of her palm, just as he did with Isabeau. “By a kiss I am bound.”

  A Kiss of Accord. Has to be. But what could Haman possibly stand to gain from such a bargain? At least I know the rebels are safe for another day. If Haman breaks his promise, he’ll die.

  Soulless comb the streets, raid houses. Doors fly open and wood splits. Children cry. How long before the Haven becomes part of the endless night?

  We duck behind trome trunks and crouch near cabin porches, two fugitives escaping arrest. I maneuver with ease, grateful for the Guardian uniform Stormy lent me. The pants are a little snug, the jacket a bit short. Still, it’s better than a dress.

  At one point Ky and I lie low in a patch of wild sumac. I can only hope it isn’t poisonous. Our bodies press against earth as a Soulless passes just feet away. Ky tosses a stone against a tree to divert the guard, and we flee, twilight’s shadows camouflaging our escape.

  I don’t know how long it takes to reach the wall enclosing the island. The wall built to protect. To keep. To guard. It’s nothing but a farce. An elaborate trick constructed to make the people feel safe. How did Haman find it? The Haven is covered by trees, and the door is hidden—

  Moan. We were followed. No wonder we didn’t have trouble on our way here. Jasyn wanted us to succeed, to lead his men straight into the rebels’ hideout.

  When we finally stop, I hug my cramped middle with one arm and reach for the vine-infested wall with the other. “What’s the plan?”

  Ky kneels and knots his bootlaces, yanks the cuffs of his brown pants down to his heels. “You tell me. You’re the one who’s supposed to find the vessel. We could really use him right about now.”

  Crud. He doesn’t know. What am I supposed to do now? Joshua would want me to hide, but it’s obvious Mom isn’t on her way. How can I cower when I know she needs rescuing?

  Ky rises and gives me a sidelong glance, feeling around for the secret door in the wall. “Any inkling as to where the vessel might be?”

  Should I tell Ky the truth?

  “Em, did you hear me?”

  “What’s it going to be, brave girl? Time to choose for yourself the path you will take.”

  “Em?”

  “I need to go back to the castle. Is there a faster way to get there? What about the Leviathan—Via? Can you get her to take us?” Cringe. My request sounds ridiculous.

  He widens his stance. “She works for Crowe. He knows I betrayed him. The only place Via would take us is the dungeons.” He folds his arms across his chest. “Want to tell me why you need to return to the place I busted my butt to rescue you from?”

  “My mom—”

  “No way.” Ky pounds his fist against the wall, smashing ivy into stone. “Crowe. We’ll be lucky to make it off the island. I guarantee Soulless swarm the beach on the other side. They’ll kill me without a thought. Take you straight to the castle, which is apparently what you want anyway. My Calling doesn’t work on Soulless. I can’t control them any more than I could control Robyn’s dead body.” He flattens his palm and rests his forehead on the back of his hand. “I’m sorry. I know she was your friend.”

  Robyn’s name stings like swallowed salt water, adding to the helplessness curling over me like a tidal wave. I hardly knew her, but yes, she was more of a friend to me than most.

  Sigh. What now? We have no weapons, no defense. Ky has the mirrorglass blade, but how much damage can that do?

  I sit cross-legged, grabbing at my hair, picking out pieces of leaf and twig.

  “Brave girl . . .”

  I’m sorry, Mom. I’m useless.

  “Peer beyond the surface.”

  Another of Mom’s sayings, a tender kiss brushing the lip of my soul.

  I withdraw the book Joshua gave me from my pack, along with the flashlight Ky stashed there a few days ago. I click it on and begin thumbing through the pages. The beam dim, the batteries dying. I’ll have to speed-read.

  Ky pauses his search for the door. Leaves crunch under his boots as he shifts closer to me. “Is that a volume of The Reflection Chronicles?”

  “Yes.”

  “Whose account—?”

  “My mom’s.” I bend into the old volume, willing my eyes to read faster than the light wanes.

  The pages crinkle with each turn. Flip. Flap. Flit. I peruse the entries written in Mom’s signature cursive. Yep. She was a Scrib all right. One chapter includes drawings and descriptions of poisonous versus safe-to-eat vegetation. Another lists the chronology of our ancestry five generations back. Still another records detailed descriptions of the Callings, paired with sketches of the tattoos. The space beside Evers is blank. I guess Joshua’s kind really do keep themselves hidden. Even Mom doesn’t know their symbol.

  Come on. There has to be something in here we can use.

  Ky moves down the wall a few feet, resuming his hunt.

  Flip. Scan. Turn. When I reach the final entry, my breath catches. It’s written on a loose slip of parchment, the handwriting smudged and sloppy, as if it were stuffed into the tome at the last minute. The top of the page reads “Mirror Theory.” Beneath the title, a four-line poem is printed, followed by several paragraphs beginning on the front and concluding on the back. I study the words quickly, phrases popping out like flickers of light.

  And there, at the end of the entry, is a drawing.

  No. Way.

  I read the paragraph three times over, trace the illustration with my fingertips. It’s . . . beautiful. I didn’t see it, but now—if this works, Ky and I could escape unscathed. I smile.

  Thanks, Mom.

  Ky rushes over. He must take in my sudden demeanor change because he asks, “What is it? What did you find?”

  I clutch the pages to my chest. “Our ticket out of here.”

  We were at the wrong part of the wall. The exit is another mile down. I see it now. Just looks like a big gap.

  “Are you sure about this?” Ky hesitates at the façade.

  “Yes.” Brackish air fills my lungs. Before our sea monster encounter, the scent would’ve drawn me forward. Now I pause, wary. Do I really believe Mom’s theory?

  I guess I’m going to find out.

&nb
sp; Ky heads through the opening first, then pulls me through.

  Crud. Just as he predicted. Soulless camp where the tree line ends, about the length of a New York block away.

  He intertwines our fingers and squeezes my hand. “We could go back, try to find a way around.”

  I draw a deep breath. Exhale with a shudder. “No. That’ll take too long.”

  We move forward, staying undercover as much as possible as we head onto the beach. The tide has receded, the lapping waves a seemingly unattainable goal.

  What am I doing? This is beyond stupid.

  No. I’d trust Mom with my life. Which is exactly what I’m about to do.

  We go unnoticed through the camp, hopping from tent to tent, sticking to the shadows. Several of Jasyn’s men laze around a bonfire while others set up tiki torches at intervals, washing the beach in a ruddy glow.

  My flesh crawls at the sight of them. It’s like a horror movie, all charred veins and deadened stares. Some don’t seem to be completely turned, like Gage. Their eyes normal, their skin still visible beneath the black vines.

  Beyond the camp a massive ship fresh off the pages of a J. M. Barrie novel looms just offshore. Sea foam gathers where wood curves into water. Hiss, spray, whoosh. What are we doing? We can’t steal a pirate ship. Even if the plan works—

  Ky releases my hand.

  I freeze.

  “And where do you two think you’re going?” a guard deadpans.

  I face him, trying to mask my shock as I absorb the sight before me. I’ve never looked into Soulless eyes. I wish I wasn’t now. They’re completely clouded. The haze glassing them moves and swirls, as if permanent fog resides there.

  Ky draws his knife, uses his body as a barricade, backing us away from the guard. “Anytime now, Ember.”

  I fumble with Mom’s book in my sweating palms, shaking as I read the page again.

  I lift my head and start to sing. My voice wavers, cold and cracking.

  The guard halts his pursuit.

  It’s working. My melody grows stronger, surer.