UNBREATHABLE

by Hafsah Laziaf

  “Did you know there's a ship?” He asks. I hold my breath when he reaches for me. Through the corner of my eye I see his hesitation. It’s in these small acts of uncertainty that I find humanity in him, a reason that begs to give him a chance. His fingers softly brush the hair away from my neck as if I may demolish beneath his touch.

  “No,” I lie. My voice is a bare whisper, because I don't want to break his thoughts. Because I can't muster anything louder.

  “It’s magnificent,” he says in awe.

  “You've seen it.”

  “Yes.” He shifts in the chair. I glance back at him, lock eyes. I break away first.

  In the fire, I see Julian. I see him gritting his teeth against the pain. I see his eyes flooding with agony.

  And you? What do you want?

  Earth, I said stupidly. While he wanted me.

  “What’s this?” Rowan's voice. Julian's voice. What is the difference? His finger trails along my cheek, wiping away a rogue tear.

  “Will I see it?” I ask instead. Will Julian live? I desperately blink away my tears.

  “And board it.” He tilts his head.

  “I don't understand,” I say. Because I’m going to die, not get on that ship.

  He chooses this moment to stand. He holds his hand out to me and I consider ignoring it. But I don't. I need to get out of here. I need to save Julian. I place my hand in his, ignoring the trills that shoot through me.

  He pulls me up. Against him.

  In a heartbeat, my body is pressed against his. His grip tightens before I can pull away in surprise. I crane my neck up to meet his eyes and my breathing quickens. His eyes darken when they fall to my neck and climb to my lips. And without meaning to, I run my tongue over them. His eyes flash. My insides pulse.

  He brings his face close to mine. Julian. Rowan. Julian. Rowan. I can't stop the dangerous need spreading through me. It takes over me. This desire, as overwhelming as Jutaire’s air.

  Rowan missed nothing.

  When he’s satisfied with what he sees, he leans close. I see the flecks of black sprinkling his blue eyes. His hair brushes against my skin.

  And he breathes against my lips. “I'll see you soon.”

  I'm only alone in my room for a moment before a soft knock sounds at the door and Eli walks in.

  “My apologies, miss.” He bows. “Rowan asked to bring you to the dining room. You must eat.”

  I'm still trembling. And angry. Angry at Rowan for doing this to me. But isn’t it my fault, too? I squeeze my hands together and press them into my lap. Eli narrows his eyes, and only then do I see that they are blue.

  “Are you alright, miss?” He takes a step closer.

  “I'm fine,” I say quickly. The words come out harsh, but he doesn't seem to notice. Or if he does, he doesn't react.

  He nods like he understands. “You mustn’t be late.”

  I swallow the bitter laugh that bubbles to my throat. I want to ask him what will happen if I'm late. Because there’s nothing worse that can happen to me. Everything has been taken from me. Rowan has nothing to hold over me as he did over Julian.

  And that's when it hits me. Rowan has no leverage. There’s nothing he can use to blackmail me.

  He needs my trust.

  I slip off the bed and follow Eli down the hall.

  If Rowan wants my trust before he'll share his plans, I will give it to him. Because mad or not, Rowan is smart.

  And two can play at that game.

  The dining room is empty, save for Rowan sitting on one end. Eli pulls out the chair on the other and I sit down.

  It’s ridiculous. Such a long hall, its grandeur evident in the intricate moldings and the glossy finish of the carved wooden table.

  And empty.

  I feel sorry for Rowan. But then, up until recently, I was alone too.

  “Eat. You'll need the energy,” Rowan says from his end. I don't ask what I need the energy for. In fact, I don't ask anything, or even acknowledge him. I eat, because why not?

  Unlike the Chancellors and the rest of the human race, the Jute don’t eat the same bland porridge mixed with every vegetable from the crophouses. They have fresh leaves and colorful vegetables, something the porridge very rarely hints at.

  When my plate is clean, a flawless girl with dark hair and equally dark skin comes forward. She holds a swab in one hand, a finger prick and vial in the other.

  This is what the energy is for, the sparkling needle says.

  I scramble out of the chair and face Rowan. “What are you doing, Rowan?” I hiss.

  “We'll need a sample. And I expect you to give it.” He says simply, lazily. “Hold out your arm, Lissa.”

  “No,” I press my hand against my chest. Rowan's eyes follow my movement.

  “If you abide, I’ll make sure you go to Earth.”

  “Why? Why do you need my blood?” I ask. But I hear his words. My mother would never take me to Earth. He sets his jaw, his eyes livid. But I don’t care. His anger means nothing to me. He can’t hurt me.

  “Let’s just say it’s time for your mother’s rein to end,” he says, standing.

  End. My mother’s rein. The Queen of the Jute.

  My breath hitches as everything clicks into place. Rowan's madness, Julian's fear, my mother's desperation when I said Rowan and I had met. The room swerves and spins. I reach out to steady myself on the table and sink into the chair beside him. He watches me, his eyes startling.

  I try to look away, but I can’t. Because those eyes will always have that effect on me. Julian and Rowan will always be two sides to the same stone, mirrors of one another.

  Is he like Julian? Does he know what goes through my mind when my voice is silent?

  I feel the prick, the pull. I feel my blood seeping into a vial I don’t want to see. I don't look. I don’t even move until the girl's footsteps recede into another hall.

  Sorrow wells up inside me and crashes through me. Because with every breath, I get closer and closer to being sucked dry.

  I went from being alone, knowing only one other soul, to something two groups needed—the Jute and the humans. Now there are three groups and the humans don’t even know they need me.

  Eli leads me back to my room. By the time he opens the door, the small wound has healed. He lingers a moment longer, and I take my chance to question him.

  “Do you know what Rowan is going to do?” I ask. I take his hand and lead him to the chair beside my bed. His skin is papery thin and I wonder how much life he has left in him.

  “I know of your blood. I know of the ship. And I know Rowan is out of his wits,” he says seriously. “I don’t really know the details.”

  “Do you know where we are?” I ask, biting my lip. Eli should know something.

  “Not too far from the palace, if that’s what you’re asking. But we're past Queen Rhea's radius,” he says, rubbing his chin. So that's why she didn't come after me.

  “Do you ever leave?”

  “Rarely. But there are a few people who come by, messengers and the like. If you want to get word to someone in the palace, I can do that.” I wonder if the possibility of helping me makes him happy or wary.

  “There’s a girl, Mia Leen—”

  His eyes widen and his face freezes. His hands clamp down on the chair, knuckles deathly white.

  “Where did you hear that name?” His voice is hoarse.

  “Mia?”

  “Lower your voice,” he hisses. I drop to my knees in front of him.

  “Why? What is it?” I ask.

  “You don’t know?” He asks, furrowing his brow. I shake my head.

  “Rumors, mostly.” But he believes whatever the rumors say. I can tell he hopes they’re true. He pauses, clearly deciding if he can trust me or not.

  “Your mother had a sister elder to her. She was queen, by birth. When she died mysteriously, they say she was murdered by Rhea.”

  I nod, encouragingly. He has to have more to add to Julian’s story. “
Only few people know this, but it is said Queen Mina had a daughter. One she hid from her sister and the rest of the Jute world. She gave up her daughter to a merchant on the street. When he died, the girl went missing. The only piece of Queen Mina she had left was a necklace, a marked green and gold jewel that no one knows for sure exists.”

  But it does exist. I reach for my neck, though I know the emerald isn’t there. It’s gone, along with the cream dress I wore.

  “Mia is the girl’s name?” I ask. He raises his eyebrows when I say is.

  “It was,” he says.

  “Mia,” I pause, “is alive.”

  His eyes harden. “You aren't much different from him, are you? I didn’t come here for your amusement. I wanted to offer whatever help I could.”

  “No!” I grab his hand. He sits back down, his gaze untrusting, his face closed.

  And I tell him.

  “So she’s the true heir?” I ask. There’s a light shining in my chest, filling me with giddiness. Because Mia is good, inside, outside—she is thoroughly good. And the thought of her ruling the Jute sends my flicker of hope shining like a beacon.

  She is as human as a Jute can get—if only humans were as pure as the word implies.

  Eli nods quickly. He’s as hopeful as I am. But we both know Mia being crowned as the rightful heir is slim—there’s no way Queen Rhea will allow it. And now, with Rowan a part of the mix, the complications have multiplied.

  “Will you get word to her… that I’m here?” I ask. He rubs his small graying beard.

  “I will try. I doubt she goes by Mia, it’s too dangerous,” he says. I wonder again why she decided to trust me with her name. “But I’ll try my best.”

  A knock sounds at the door. I glance at him before crossing the room.

  “Lissa,” Rowan murmurs. He steps into the room without an invitation. I step away from his closeness and he mimics me, stepping forward. I press myself against the wall and he comes closer still. I sneak a glance at Eli. Rowan notices.

  “Leave, old man,” he growls. Eli goes to the door, not even bristling at Rowan’s tone. He stops and looks at me, his eyes worried. But he knows I am strong enough. He bows his head, not because I’m a princess, but because I’m a friend.

  And he leaves me alone with Rowan.

  My whole body pulses with that dangerous pull that rises whenever Rowan is near.

  “Why was he here?” He asks, tilting his head. Why is Rowan so close?

  “He wanted to see if my wound had closed,” I say, thinking fast.

  “You're Jute,” he shoots back. “We heal fast.”

  “I'm only half Jute.” I remind him.

  “There’s something I want to show you,” he says. I want him to give me room to breathe.

  “Oh?” I say.

  “Oh, yes,” he says with a grin. I look away when I see Julian.

  Every heartbeat I waste with Rowan is a heartbeat of agony for him.

  He crouches down by the bed and opens one of the three drawers along the side that I didn't see before.

  He pulls out a mask and makes sure I’m watching before he presses it to his face. The mask suctions to his skin and the rush of oxygen clouds the clear Louen. I struggle to keep my face blank.

  I watch as he breathes in and out. A slow grin transforms his face as oxygen surges through his system. His skin doesn’t pale as it does when a Jute breathes oxygen. His eyes don’t dilate.

  My blood works.

  It’s done. There’s no doubt anymore.

  He pulls the mask off and breathes in the sweet air around us. “It's pretty bland, compared to this.”

  “This is intoxicating,” I agree, but my heart is banging against my rib cage. It’s happening, already. They’re using my blood.

  He raises one eyebrow and tosses the mask on the bed. “You?”

  “I meant the air,” I say flatly. His eyes fall to my throat when I swallow uneasily.

  “And you,” he says.

  “Where is my necklace?” I ask, steering the subject away from me.

  He angles his head and narrows his eyes. Does he know about Mia? “Why?”

  “I liked it. I want it back.” I wonder if I sound as obnoxious as he does, because you are who you associate yourself with.

  “I'll give it to you,” he says simply and I blink in surprise.

  My heart skips a beat when his fingers reach for his neck and he begins unbuttoning his shirt, his gaze hot. I step back, but again, the wall is behind me. When every button is undone, he drops his hands by his sides and I’m thankful that he at least left the shirt on.

  But some part of me wishes he took it off. My face burns.

  The necklace hangs around his neck.

  I see the gold chain, the green stone. I see his chest too, the muscles tight and lean.

  “Can I have it?” I ask. My voice is tight. Hushed.

  “Take it.” His eyes flash and his jaw shifts.

  I take one step toward him, expecting him to move closer. Instead, he shifts so he’s a foot from the wall adjacent to us, but he’s otherwise still.

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask. There’s a plea in my voice.

  “There isn’t an answer for everything.” He says softly with a shrug.

  I stop, inches away. I look at his chest. No. I look at the jewel and reach for it, and I notice, barely, that he holds his breath too. His chest is a sculpture of stone, brushed in the light caramel I’ve read about. Heat creeps up my neck as I think this.

  I focus on the stone.

  But I can't. Our bodies are inches apart. His breath is hot on my skin. I can feel the heat of his body as if it’s mine. I notice everything no matter how hard I try not to. The way his silky Louen pants hang from his bare hips. The way his shirt hides so much and bares so much. The way the collar of his shirt brushes against the scruff on his jaw. The way his jaw angles and his lips curve into a small dark smile, as if he knows something I do not.

  I reach for the stone. My fingers tighten into fists when his hands close around mine and my heart explodes. He pulls me against him. Turns. And I am sandwiched between the wall and his body.

  It all happens in heartbeats. I can’t breathe. Danger pulsates through me.

  “Rowan.” My voice is soft. I can’t stop seeing Julian.

  “Hush,” he says quietly. “Do you want the necklace?”

  I swallow and nod.

  “Take it,” he breathes.

  My hands tremble as I reach for the chain, forcing air through my lips. In, out, in, out. His breathing mixes with mine and I lose my concentration. My fingers brush against his burning skin. He watches my every move. Drinks in my every emotion. I lift the chain over his head and slip it over mine.

  But he doesn't move. My eyes flicker to his, to the deep pools of darkness staring back at me. He leans close. I can almost feel his lips on mine. Barely, just barely, I lean forward, my heart throbbing.

  My breath shudders. Something in me desperately wants to know the feel of his lips against mine. But I don't kiss him. I can't kiss him.

  I’m dying.

  And after what seems to be forever, he pulls away. I breathe.

  “We'll be leaving soon. You should change. There's another dress behind that door.” He is as breathless as I am, and I find slight comfort in that. No, I can’t find comfort at all.

  “Thank you.” I force the words from my mouth. They fall one by one, in a whisper. “For the jewel.”

  “It was never mine.” He smirks and the door closes behind him.

  I drop to my knees the moment he leaves. Sobs rack through my body. I nearly kissed him. I’m going mad. I am mad.

  I think of Julian, somewhere in a dark place. I hear his groans of pain, see his eyes barely able to stay open.

  I rock back and forth on the cool ground and clutch my stomach. I feel his pain as if it is my own. I can barely tell the difference.

  There is no difference.

  We're leaving, Rowan said. I force
myself to my feet and make my way to the closet. I pull the lavender and gray dress from the hanger, ignoring the deepness of the neck and the buttons dropping along the front. Rowan must have chosen it for me himself.

  But I change. I need to get out of here before Rowan drives me mad. I pretend I am another person and leave the room.

  And I will myself to believe every step takes me closer to Julian.

  My cheeks still burn as I hurry down the hall. I head in the direction of the dining hall, hoping to see someone other than Rowan, because I don't think I can look at him.

  I hear a creak as I turn the corridor. Fingers wrap around my wrist and before I can pull away, I’m jerked into darkness.

  “Don’t struggle.”

  Light floods the small space.

  “Eli?” I whisper. We’re in a closet with brooms, buckets, and rags strewn about.

  “Did he hurt you?” His blue eyes search my face. There’s something in the way his intense gaze roves my face that reminds me of Julian, though I’m sure I’m imagining the likeness. It could be the blue eyes.

  I wonder if my cheeks are still flushed.

  “No,” I say quickly. I feel the urge to steer him away from Rowan, as if something happened between us that no one should know of. He stares at me a moment longer, deciding for himself.

  “I found these,” he says finally. He holds out the daggers Julian carved for me, and the gun I saved for Dena.

  “How? Where?” I ask as he helps me strap one to my shoulder and one above my ankle.

  “I have my ways,” he says with a warm, fatherly smile.

  “Thank you, Eli,” I say, earnestly.

  He nods and his smile fades. “I tried to get word to Mia. It might be a while.”

  I nod and bite my lip. “We didn’t expect it to be easy.”

  “No, we didn’t.” He studies me closely. “Are you sure you’re alright, Lissa?”

  “I’m fine,” I say quickly. I need to get away before my face betrays everything. I reach for the door.

  “Be careful,” he calls as I shut it behind me. I want to tell him it won't matter how much care I take.

  “Where are you running to?” Rowan’s voice stops me in my tracks.