by Krystal Wade
“What’s this for? Why do I need a knife?”
“Aedan.”
“But the book lied to everyone. He’s a jerk, but he’s not a murderer.”
“You still believe the opposite of things that book told you? You are so lost, child. Aedan wasn’t a Guardian-killing murderer, but he is a stern leader, one who truly loves his position as Elder. Now that you’re here, he’s afraid you’ll replace him.” Katherine sat on her knees and worked a leather strap around my thigh, making the nerves in my leg skitter.
I really wished she’d waited until I had some clothes on.
“I don’t want to replace him.” I wanted Derick and movies and The Hobbit and The Griffin bookstore and Stafford High School and Truslow Road on foggy mornings. I wanted the Capitol Ale House, the pork shank Derick and I always shared. I wanted ice cream on the hood of the Mustang with him. I wanted dance classes while he peeked through the square window and smiled every time he met my eyes. I wanted to cheer him on while he ran track. I wanted Mom and Dad and trips to the mountains. “I just want my life back.”
“We have about five minutes before someone comes for you, and I’d prefer we meet them in the hall. Aedan and Melos are going to introduce you to a higher spirit tonight, after dinner—which will be laced with sleeping potions, so don’t eat—and there will be an incident. I don’t know much more than that, but you will need this knife if you want to defend yourself. Put this on. I’ll go get your dress.”
Returning to her feet, she handed me a bottle of oil then fled. Katherine paused at the door and glanced back at me. “And if you survive tonight, I’ll see what we can do to get your life back. I promised your mother that a long time ago, and now I’m making that promise to you.”
Derick
ou move quickly, Derick Crawford. This will serve you well.” Alexander leaned against the wall, hand pressed to his bony chest.
I paced the few feet of space I dared move away from him. This place defied architectural logic with a maze of tunnels, dark hallways, and secret passageways, and I couldn’t afford to get lost. “All I have to do is climb these stairs, throw the potion you gave me, and wait?”
“Yes.”
“What about the people who see the future, the Cognizants? Won’t they know we’re coming and warn Aedan?”
Gasping for air, he hunched forward and shook his head. “Anyone who sees our plans will not stop us. They show loyalty to no one, only the truth. Besides, they are so frequently wrong that many do not believe most of what they predict.”
I opened my mouth to argue, to say that from what I read in that book visions are nearly impossible to change, but then I remembered the book lied, about almost everything, and that my mother couldn’t even see this coming. “This still seems too easy.”
“It is easy.” He straightened his back, regaining the small amount of composure he displayed earlier when speaking to Melos. “Aedan suspects nothing of this frail old man. No one ever has. But frailty is often underestimated.” Alexander glanced up the winding staircase. “Count to two after you hear the door open, throw the potion, hold your breath, grab your girl, then sneak back down to me. I’ll lead you to the dining hall, explain what I overheard and what I witnessed you do, and then beg for forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness? Why? You’re doing the right thing by helping us.”
“You’re correct. I am doing the right thing.” The corners of his mouth lifted but quickly fell into a deep frown, a fragment of a smile, a fragment of happiness. Alexander was conflicted. “But I am also making a choice between the life of Abigail Doran and the life of Aedan Mordha. And life, no matter how cut-throat or vicious its carrier may be, is precious and should not be ended lightly.”
I wiped my hand over my sweaty face. “What’s in that room, Alexander?”
He removed a small blade from a swath of robe draped across his shoulder and pressed the weapon on my palm. “A spirit of rage. Now, go!”
“Thank you.” Running up the stairs two at a time, I went over the plan again and again. Leaving Aedan and Melos behind wouldn’t be murder, would it? Were Alexander and I taking someone’s life or protecting it? Did the distinction matter?
Would I be able to live with myself if I left someone to die?
I reached the top and crouched near a short door to wait for Abby. If there was anyone in the world I’d kill for, it would be her.
Abigail
I finally smiled. I couldn’t help it. The gray ribbons wrapped around my torso, forming an ‘x’ between two horizontal lines, drew attention to all the right places. Katherine pinned a floor-length cape of thick blue silk to one of my shoulders and pulled up my now curly hair with a comb full of silver leaves.
My aunt joined me by the mirror and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t forget how much danger you’re in, Abigail.”
How could I forget? Aedan wanted to kill me, and he’d be the one sitting next to me tonight. Then, according to my aunt, he’d be the one leading me to my planned destruction by a spirit of rage—apparently one of the strongest Fávlosi, and the very one who killed my birth parents.
“Now remember, you will walk behind Aedan and Melos. When they are not looking—and trust me they never are—slip your hand through the slit I cut into the side of your dress here”—she pulled at the linen hanging loosely at my thigh—“and arm yourself. You will have two seconds to take a deep breath and barrel into that room, but be careful. This spirit is powerful in the art of disguises. Before you drive your knife into anything, make sure you’re attacking the right beast.”
“How do I do that?”
“You’re a Guardian; you open plane doors that others cannot see. You are immune to most powers possessed by Kalóans. So you tell me, Abigail: how do you do it?”
Derick’s dad read my mind, and his mom witnessed my future. Mr. Snellings controlled my emotions. But I saw Boredas in the restaurant when no one else could, and every time Derick used his Romancing abilities, I realized something was off. Almost anything with impact on vision didn’t affect me—all of this meant seeing truth was an inherent ability and I didn’t have any secondary abilities. This meant Derick never Romanced me and that the only thing his kiss did was make me more powerful, make me see things I should have already seen. Maybe I could use this to my advantage, protect myself from people with the wrong intentions. “Does anyone else know I’m immune to certain powers?”
Katherine laughed and steered me out the door and into the hall. “Only anyone who’s ever spent time near a Guardian.”
“But none have lived here for…” How long after my birth did my parents wait to evacuate? Did they ever spend time with me, or did they ship me off to live with the Nichols family the day I was born?
“For seventeen years, eight months, and nearly four weeks. Your birthday is tomorrow, is it not?”
I’d nearly forgotten my own birthday, the magic eighteen. The novelty of freedom the big one-eight brings wore off when I ran away, lost my parents, lost Mark, and almost destroyed Longboat Key; the change in age no longer seemed important. “I guess so.”
“You look just like her, but you have the personality of your father. You’re astute, incredibly curious, and kind—the way you cared for that murderer, sympathized with him while on the beach. Brendan was the kindest man I knew. Your mother would be pleased; she worried you’d be like her.” Katherine stopped walking. All color drained from her cheeks, leaving nothing but pale skin and incredibly confused eyes, the shade never quite sure if it wanted to be brown or blue. Right now, they appeared more brown. Katherine gripped my shoulders. “And you are like her, as well. You showed Derick truth when you touched him on the beach. He couldn’t see through the Safe Zone until you touched him. What a rare power, indeed. I have only ever known one other person to pos—”
“Good evening, ladies,” a man said, rounding the dark corner, interrupting the rest of the revelation my aunt wanted to share with me. No, not a man—a teenager. A tall, muscular teenage
r with tan skin, curly blond hair, and light brown eyes. He wore a blue silk robe that matched my cape. “I’ve come to escort Abigail to dinner.”
“Creiton, I didn’t expect you to come all the way up here.” Katherine nudged me toward him. “But since you have come, you may as well go down together.”
I stood awkwardly between them, staring over my shoulder at my aunt, who’d failed to mention anything about anyone escorting me to dinner like this. Was this a date? So now I had to worry about the safety of the Crawfords, Will, Megan, and Derick; Aedan and Melos’s plan for me; how to use a cold piece of metal strapped to my thigh; and sitting next to a stranger who dressed as if someone had already paired us together.
Great. Just freaking great.
“I’ve heard a lot about you.”
I jumped back a foot.
Creiton laughed.
“Sorry. I had no idea you were standing so close to me.” Creep.
“I’ll make a note that you’re easily startled.” He offered his arm, a radiant smile making his long face look as if it belonged to a billboard model.
I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to touch this guy. I knew allowing Creiton to escort me wasn’t betraying Derick, but that didn’t mean I had to go willingly. So I stood there, hands clasped behind my back.
“Okay.” Creiton mimicked me and took off down the hall. “Keep up if you can.”
“Go.” Katherine waved me on. “You don’t want to get lost in here.”
Lifting my skirt, I hurried after Creiton and bumped into him as I rounded the corner. He tumbled back, grasping for my arms to catch his balance.
“Sorry.” I backed away.
“It’s all right.” Creiton offered his arm again. “But maybe you should let me help you the rest of the way.”
Heat flooded my cheeks, and I accepted his offer, then we wandered through the strange structure. Or walked purposefully. I couldn’t tell with all the cut-throughs we took and turns down unlit halls we made. But after fifteen minutes, we entered a small square room outlined by cushioned tables that men, and one or two women, lay on. In the center of the dining area, a young girl played a flute, a simple tune. She stood next to a man who filled pitchers of wine from what appeared to be a giant goblet. Creiton turned right and helped me onto one of the odd seats, right next to Aedan, then sat next to me.
“Ahh, Creiton. Thank you for escorting Abigail.” Aedan held up a chalice full of burgundy wine, smiled, then took a drink. “Would you like some?”
Not if it’s poisoned, thank you. “No, thank you.”
“Don’t be a prude.” Aedan pointed at a plate of food sitting on a low table in front of me. “Eat. Drink. Tomorrow more of our best fighters will go out and participate in the war you started, and we will spend the next twenty or so years emotionally eradicating spirits from humans. You did good. This is our purpose. But the humans wouldn’t be suffering as much right now if your father hadn’t locked us all out in the first place.”
Laughter echoed throughout the room. Some men stared at me, but others were too lost in the music or wine to pay much attention. Though, a few diners glared at Aedan. He certainly didn’t notice.
My stomach growled. I had to eat. Katherine warned me about the food, but I couldn’t avoid it altogether. They’d suspect something, and then they might change their plan to kill me. I put the plate in my lap and picked at the bread first, then ate a few olives, and not even a quarter of the piece of pork.
“Has anyone ever told you that you eat like a bird?” Creiton whispered, leaning his shoulder against mine.
“Yes. I’ve never eaten much.” Liar. What I wanted could be found on the corner of 610 and Stafford Marketplace, a big juicy burger from Five Guys. Maybe some greasy French fries. And a handful of peanuts while I waited. I sipped a glass of water the servant brought me and then grinned at Creiton. “I haven’t seen you eat at all.”
“That’s because he’s not royalty, dear Abigail.” Aedan reached across me and patted Creiton’s knee. “But he’d very much like to be. Tell me, son, why are you still here?”
“The company, because it is so pleasant to be around.” My escort slid off the table then turned, grabbed my hand, and leaned next to my ear. “Don’t eat the desserts.”
My heart sped up. Creiton wasn’t part of the plot to kill me. He wanted to help. How many people knew of Aedan’s plans? And what were his plans for all my other friends? I realized he was staring at us and smiled as best I could. “Thank you.”
Creiton smiled as well and then walked out of the room as if he hadn’t a care in the world, his head held high and shoulders squared. He even took his time. His insides had to be squirming as much as mine were, but if they were, he acted well.
“What did he say to you?”
“Oh,” Melos interrupted, strutting toward us with a tray of nuts, pomegranates, and figs, “he probably told her how beautiful she is, didn’t he?”
I nodded.
“I knew it. Creiton has always been a glutton for pretty girls. And this one, Aedan, with her bloodline, is probably his next target.” He offered me the tray, and I picked a few nuts and figs and popped them in my mouth. “Here, have a few more.”
Thanks to Creiton’s warning, I didn’t have to worry about all the foods anymore, so I grabbed another handful of nuts and tried some of the fruit as well. “Thank you.”
“I figured you didn’t want to eat in front of that boy. None of the young women do.”
Melos set the tray next to my legs and started a conversation with Aedan, one I didn’t pay much attention to. I chose to stare at the girl still playing her flute. She made her way around the room, her skirts flowing behind her, curly black hair bouncing with each step she took. The song and her motions mesmerized me; the high-pitched notes and the way she moved seemed tethered to each other as though she’d written this song and played it a million times before. I swayed back and forth, fighting the urge to get up and dance around the room with her. Ballet was for my old life, not this new one. Not for these people. But I couldn’t deny the craving pulling me deeper into the music, into the words floating around the room. I hopped off the table and swayed on my feet a little. My head swam—oh no.
Oh no, oh no. They drugged me.
Warm hands gripped my upper arms, helping my suddenly heavy body stay upright. “Silly girl. You drank too much wine.”
The dinner guests laughed, and the music continued.
I had to wake up. I had to snap out of this. What was I thinking trusting Creiton? I should have avoided all the food like Katherine said. I should have punched Aedan in the face and told him to step down. That’s what he feared, so I should have followed through with it. Then he couldn’t have denied me anything. The people would have agreed. They’d want life back to the way the Maker intended—that’s why Aedan wanted me dead, so of course they’d have chosen me.
How stupid. How incredibly stupid.
Dad would be so disappointed in me. After everything he’d taught me, and I walked into the first trap set.
My eyelids sagged, and I was vaguely aware of someone dragging me away from the dining hall.
“Is she truly out of it, or is she pretending, Melos? We cannot afford her to fight, or draw attention to us.”
Aedan—or Melos—put his thumb on my eyelid and lifted it up, but I couldn’t see anything other than blurry outlines.
“Look at her pupils, Aedan. She won’t put up a fight.”
I tried to move my arm, to make a fist, but I weighed so much.
“And she drank water from a chalice Maurran gave her, so no one will doubt us when we say she overindulged and wandered around after we took her to her room.”
“Do you believe we’re doing the right thing, sir?” At least Melos carried some confliction about murdering me.
“You are too young to remember the old days, Melos, but Guardians wouldn’t even mingle outside their kind. They ruled our world, deciding when the planes should be opened and
closed, no matter how their decisions affected the rest of our people. Their undiluted bloodline meant the most to them—”
“Until her father.”
Aedan sighed. “This is the way things are, Melos. Look how you’ve done without Guardians as Elders.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Help…” My voice came out weak, feeble.
“Tell me to stop, then.”
Please tell him to stop, Melos. Be what you’re supposed to be: good. I don’t want to die, not yet, not this way.
“Let’s get on with this,” he mumbled, crushing my hope.
One of them took a tight hold of my upper arm and jerked me forward. My face met the floor with a loud crack. Warm liquid trailed down my lips and pooled in the corner of my mouth, leaving a salty taste on my lips. I wished I could move. Just a little. The knife holster dug into my leg, a mocking reminder that I’d trapped myself with my stupidity. One hour—two max—and then I could have eaten anything.
If I lived to see another day, I’d kill Creiton, but no way would I get that chance.
“Clean up that blood before someone sees it, then meet me where we discussed.”
I hated Aedan. I hated the Book of Red.
But as he dragged my limp body toward the spirit of rage, I realized I couldn’t do anything about any of it.
Derick
I waited.
And waited.
My calves cramped from crouching outside this room so long, listening for the door to open, for that specific moment where I’d have to burst through, toss my potion, and rescue Abby.
But nothing.
Silence. Hours of it.
Even the spirit of rage stayed quiet. I’d expected to sit here listening to a caged animal cry out for help, or in disgust. What the hell did a spirit of rage even look like? Couldn’t be good. That’s for sure.
I pressed my ear against the cold limestone wall and heard muffled footsteps. This was it. Scrambling to my feet, I grabbed the potion in one hand and my knife in the other. Deep breath.