UNBREATHABLE

by Hafsah Laziaf

  I swallow and plaster on a smile. I hope with all my life it looks real.

  “Does anyone keep watch?” I ask, peering down, changing the subject.

  “We don't need anyone to keep watch. The humans don't know about it,” he says with a shrug. “And Queen Rhea never imagined her own people to go against her. In any case, I have some of my men down there. They work for the queen of course, but their loyalties lay with me.”

  “You have many on your side,” I say, half-questioning.

  “Of course. You can't overthrow a queen with no one. I have about a tenth of the populace on my side.”

  A tenth. I raise my eyebrows. “That's a lot.”

  He grins but doesn’t elaborate. “We had better head back. We start tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow. What starts tomorrow? I have less than a night to get word to my father. I have less than a night to save Julian and find Mia.

  I have less than a night. And the way Rowan stares at me, I doubt I will get anything done.

  When we reach his house, I can't help but glance at the wall. My heart races in reminder. Rowan pulls me close as he opens the door and looks into my eyes. I see the secrets he shared and I know he’s never told anyone about Julian’s mother and his real position with the Queen.

  He’s churning his grief into action—into revenge. And it’s making him evil. Mad.

  He rests my arms on his shoulders and leans closer, but I can’t. I can’t kiss him again.

  I can’t.

  But I can feel his disappointment growing. He’ll figure out why I kissed him to begin with. So I kiss him back and he instantly relaxes before pulling me inside the dark house.

  “Rowan,” I whisper. He pauses and searches my eyes, and something in me breaks. There’s pain in his eyes. Not the dark desire from earlier. Pain. He has never had anyone who wanted him, anyone who would hold him close and whisper his name in his ear. He’s pushed everyone away after Julian’s mother died, all for the sake of protecting them from the Queen.

  But this can never go on. I can never love him the way I would love Julian. Julian’s grief led him to hurt himself, Rowan’s is leading him to hurt others. Something I would never do.

  He pulls me toward his room. I pull away.

  “Rowan,” I half-whisper, half-croak. His eyes search mine hungrily, and finally soften. In that instant, I see Julian.

  “I’m sorry,” he says softly. Before he closes the door, he looks back at me. My fingers are on my lips.

  “Lissa?” I meet his eyes. “Don’t leave me.”

  In that instant, I hear Julian.

  I stare at the dark door, my body lit on fire. I sink into the chair by the fireplace, where the flames echo the ones inside me. Hating Rowan should have been easy. But our trip changed everything.

  “You’re confused.” I look up in surprise as Eli steps out of the shadows. And I’m grateful for the darkness hiding my heated cheeks, bruised lips, and disheveled clothes.

  “I know the horrible things he’ll do.” I pause as he settles beside me. My voice is soft because darkness always calls for hush. “But I feel sorry for him. A part of me, a part of me likes him, wants him. I feel lost.”

  Eli studies me a moment. “Rowan is lost too. He was never given the attention he needed, not like Julian. He doesn't know what he wants, truly. And I think, well, I think, you can show him what he needs.” I turn to him with a sharp inhale. “I know how he looks at you. I know how he feels inside. He has strayed, but you can bring him back.”

  “How would you know?” I ask, suddenly angry. How would he know how Rowan feels when not even I know? When he looks at me, I see hunger and snippets of compassion. I didn’t even know he had anything close to compassion until he spilt the truth.

  “I know,” he says, his voice just as angry, “because I am his father.”

  My jaw drops. Rowan’s father. No wonder his blue eyes were familiar. And if he’s Rowan’s father, that means he’s Julian's father, too. This man, treated by Rowan like filth on his sleeve.

  I latch onto the only shred of a thought I can. “But-but you're human.”

  “No.” He shakes his head. “But I prefer oxygen, it keeps the mind clear.”

  So he’s a hybrid like I am.

  I always thought the air of Jutaire was intoxicating, but I never thought it muddled the mind. Is that why I can’t get enough of Rowan? Is the air ruining my mind?

  No. I prefer this air. I prefer the sweetness because it makes my thoughts sharper.

  But he can’t be a hybrid. Gage and Slate said I was the only one of my kind.

  “Julian,” I start. I struggle to say something, but I can't. My throat is suddenly dry. But Eli understands.

  “He is my son too, though he isn’t as welcome in White Plains.” He smiles. “He loves you very much. He’s broken inside, but in a way much different to Rowan. Julian had only wanted death before you came. And for that, I thank you.”

  His words wrench at my heart. The fire crackling in front of me blurs in my vision.

  “He's being tortured. Because of me.” I manage to whisper.

  Eli tilts his head, resembling Rowan. He envelops my hand between both of his. “Why? Because you were with him? No, Lissa. We find ways to blame ourselves when grief overcomes our souls. But that isn't the way. It was Rowan's fault.”

  But I can’t help but think of how nothing would have happened if I hadn’t been there. He never would have taken me to see the Ruins.

  “Why do you stay here with Rowan, when he treats you so wrongly?” I ask, forcing my mind away from Julian.

  “This is my home,” Eli says simply.

  Julian said his father owns a plantation on the outskirts of Jute territory, between the palace and human territory. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it myself. “It’s my fault Rowan is beyond control. Had I treated him differently when he was younger, he would be different now. I will forever live in guilt. This is the only way I can cope with it.”

  I want to relieve him of his sorrow and pain, to tell him it isn't his fault. I want to comfort him the way he comforted me. But I can’t. What is it like to have two sons, completely identical, yet completely different?

  “Rowan will burn the palace down. Tomorrow, I think.” My eyes are wet with tears. Is Julian even alive?

  “Then you will leave now,” Eli says with such force, my breath catches. In the light of the fire, determination flashes in his eyes, so much like Julian.

  “I can't. I don't know what to do,” I say. My voice breaks. But this show of weakness in front of Eli doesn't embarrass me.

  “Head to the palace,” Eli says softly. “Your heart will know what to do next.”

  He stands and gestures for me to follow. I stare at the flames and rub my arms. I glance at Rowan’s door. Don’t leave me. What will I do when I step outside these walls? Where will I go?

  I'm the only one who knows what Rowan will do. I'm the only one who can do something, anything, to stop this madness. And there isn’t much time.

  With this thought, I stand and follow Eli’s shadow to another room.

  I stop at the threshold, and I have to grip the doorframe against the pain in my chest. The room is an exact replica of the training room in the Tower. But here, I won't find Julian carving a design into my daggers. I won’t see his first smile. Or his face flushing when Slate catches us laughing.

  “We have to hurry if you want to cover ground,” Eli says, breaking me out of my thoughts. He digs through some drawers and pulls out a dark outfit. My outfit, the clean Louen scales shining in the light of the room.

  “One of the maids gave it to me,” he says when I look at him in surprise.

  I move along the wall, picking weapons—daggers in various sizes, darts, and expandable staves.

  “Perfect,” Eli says when I've changed and fastened the weapons wherever I can. I slip the emerald jewel over my neck and tuck it beneath my shirt before hurrying with him to the back door. I quickly pin my hair in
to a braid and toss it behind me. “Follow the alley lights. They'll lead you the castle.”

  I nod and step out. The wind picks up, ruffling the loose strands of my hair. “And you? Will you be safe?”

  “Rowan is my son. He’ll never hurt me.” His fingers close around my shoulder. I wonder if I imagine the warmth spreading from his usually cool touch. But it’s real. I stare into his bright eyes and I know hope did this to him. Brought life back to his weeping soul. “Be careful, Lissa. There is more at stake than the human race.”

  Now, nine-tenths of the Jute populace is in danger. And despite what Gage said about the Jute, I have learned they are more similar to humans that I could ever imagine.

  Eli is right. There is more at stake.

  I take a deep breath to calm my heart. And run.

  The wind whistles through my hair. I pull my shimmering hood over my head and the mask over my mouth and nose, following the lights. I can see the palace in the distance, the lights illuminating the white walls like a beacon for all to see. Rowan will ruin it all.

  Human territory lies far behind me. I’m painfully aware that my every step takes me farther away from it. I’m aware of many things. The lone figures, the eyes following me as I run. An alley is the worst place to be, night or day. I leap over a pile of debris without pause.

  It was a night like this when I met Julian first. I ran free then, confined only by the sky above my head. Now, the walls of buildings surround me. The sky is nothing but a rectangle of silky navy blue. Now, the walls of a new reality surround me, threatening to encase me forever.

  I hear nothing over the rushing in my ears. My legs pump beneath me and I wonder if I was born for running.

  I think this, and my mind wanders far enough that I don’t sense the other presence until it’s too late.

  Pain explodes in my shoulder when my arm is wrenched in the opposite direction. I cry out at the sudden pain as a scent reeking of decay penetrates the fabric of the cloth against my face and slams into my nose. I cough and gag. Struggle to hold my breath. I'm pinned against the wall, my chest heaving.

  I see a face.

  My eyes widen and I want to squeeze them shut and never see again. White panic momentarily blinds my brain.

  Breathe, a part of me is still sane enough to say. I breathe and grit my teeth at the stench and breathe some more.

  I can't tell if the creature is male or female. I can't tell where its nose begins and where its lips end. Its dark eyes are buried deep inside the hollows of sickly white skin, veins bulging in all the wrong places.

  It reminds me of a mutant. A mutant resembling a human more than a horse. I close off the horrifying thought.

  “Hello pretty.” It rasps. I cough and grit my teeth at the stench that shoots from its mouth.

  “Let go.” I spit through gritted teeth.

  “Pretties and riches, I want.” Its eyes scour my face. It licks its nonexistent lips with a puckered tongue and I gag again. “Something other than despair.”

  “I have nothing,” I wheeze. It pins my arm against my chest and I gasp for air. My lungs already ache from running. Now, they scream in sheer pain. I gasp through clenched teeth. “Let me go.”

  It laughs, a wheezing screech that sounds like it’s dying. Anger surges through my bloodstream. I've been through enough to be afraid of a deformed madman. I blink away the sweat trickling down my eyes and shove his arm away, twisting it behind him while I suck in gulps of clean air.

  It stumbles back in surprise and recovers quickly, leering at me. It lowers its head and widens its stance. Matted strands of dirty white hair fall over its face as it sways back and forth.

  My knives pulse against my skin. I whip one from my left arm, holding it ready. Steady. My body itches, slick with sweat.

  “Leave and I won't hurt you.” My voice is sharp.

  “You hurt me?” The creature screeches. I flinch and it lunges. I act on instinct. Fear more than practice.

  The knife flies from my hand. It sinks into the flesh by its heart and I turn away as the creature sinks to the ground.

  And I know, more than hear, it has breathed its last.

  I steady myself against the wall and catch my breath, pushing away the image of the creature's face seared into my mind.

  I grit my teeth against the stench and take careful steps forward. In one swift pull, I grab my dagger and wipe it on its dirty coat as Dena would have done and slip it back into my sheath. With one last look at the still body, I run.

  This time, I keep my mind clear and I hear nothing. But just as I felt the presence of lurking shadows earlier, I feel nothing now. Everyone has gone.

  I’ve earned my solitude by taking another life.

  The guilt hits me as soon as I leave the alley. When the sky widens before me, I feel the accusation in the dim twinkle of the stars. But they should know I acted in defense. Had I not, I don't know where I’d be now.

  I tell myself I killed the creature to put it out of its misery. It clearly was a Jute once, male most likely, but despair ate him from the inside. I shudder when I think of the alternative. Could it have been a mutant?

  Where do mutants come from?

  I shiver and focus on the ground beneath me, and the palace, still a good distance away. But I feel safer, away from the dark confines of the alley. Though this is worse in some ways. I can easily be seen.

  I pass silent houses as I run. Some have lights on, others are dark. I only pass one lone man roaming the streets, his head ducked beneath the collar of his coat. I keep my eyes glued to him until I pass.

  I'm panting by the time I've climbed the palace hill. Swarms of dust burst and swirl in the gentle wind.

  I pause beside a ring of boulders and scan the area. Though I don’t see anyone, I know there are guards—even in broad daylight there are guards.

  I creep closer, staying beneath the shadows as much as I can. There isn’t a single cloud in the sky, nothing to lend to my invisibility. Moonlight illuminates my location when I’m close enough to see the swirling gold etched into the palace walls.

  I tense.

  I’m not alone. I whip my head up, but before I can turn, a hand tightens around my mouth.

  I struggle against the person, digging my nails into the hand around me. I try to scream, but nothing penetrates the grip. Panic edges into my vision. Sweat burns my skin.

  “Stop struggling,” a man whispers. Hot breath suffocates my skin.

  He pulls me toward the palace, his hand still around my mouth. A guard?

  I twist and try to see who he is through the corner of my eye, but I can only see the moon.

  I dig my heels into the ground. But it’s no use. He drags me anyway. He’s strong, though the hand around my mouth is bony.

  When he drags me beneath the shadow of an eve above a smaller palace door, he lets go. I fall to the ground, panting. My hand flies to my leg and I yank out a dagger.

  “It's me, Princess,” the man says hurriedly. He crouches down in front of me, and moonlight illuminates his features.

  “Ilen?” I ask, lowering my hand. My heart pounds loud enough for Jutaire to hear.

  He nods, eyeing the knife nervously. “Where were you?”

  It takes me a moment to realize all of Jutaire thinks I’m missing. Everyone thinks Julian hurt me.

  “Is Julian okay?” I ask.

  Ilen nods, gravely and relief floods through me. “Barely. I see him sometimes, take him whatever food I've got.”

  I blink in surprise. “You don't think–he didn't—”

  “I know he didn't hurt you. I know all about Rowan and his plan.” Ilen sighs.

  “How? Does the Queen know?” I ask. My mind swarms with questions.

  “I was with him in the beginning. I wanted,” he pauses and frowns. In the light of the moon, he looks younger. “I wanted to go to Earth but I never thought it involved so much death. So I backed out. And no, the Queen doesn't know. I can't tell her.”

  He shudders and
looks closely at me, as if seeing me for the first time. “Why are you here, Princess?”

  Can I trust him? He knows of Rowan's madness. He knows of Julian's innocence.

  “I came to save Julian. Rowan is going to burn down the palace.”

  “There’s nothing I can do,” he says, shaking his head before I can ask. “All the men here are loyal to him. I’m supposed to be, too, but I’m too scared, obviously.”

  Ilen sneaks me into the maid's quarters and I trust him to stay silent. He murmurs something about his shift being over and disappears.

  I slip through the door and squint in the darkness, quietly creeping through the wide space.

  My feet kick something soft and I nearly stumble. When I right myself, I hear a soft cry.

  “Jude,” a voice calls far to my right. I squint and my heart beats faster when I make out the sounds of breathing. How many Jute are in here? How many of them can see me?

  A dim light brightens from above and I gasp. The wide room is filled with girls sleeping on the floor. Maids.

  “Princess?” Someone whispers excitedly. I jerk my head toward the voice, recognizing the girl who dressed my hair on the eve of the ceremony.

  I hold a finger quickly to my lips and everyone falls silent. “Hush. No one must know I'm here.”

  She presses her lips together and nods. I let my eyes scan over the rest of the girls. They stare up at me with wide, expectant eyes. Their excitement is palpable in the air. The thrill of keeping a secret runs through their veins.

  “Where’s Mia?” I ask them, my voice low.

  “We don’t know. We haven’t seen her since you went missing,” an older girl says.

  “Does she disappear often?” I ask, panic rushing through me.

  “No,” a little girl whispers, half to herself. “Mia is always here. Not anymore.”

  “The human, the platinum one.” One of them points at another door. “She’s in there.”

  Dena. She’s safe and so close. My heart picks up speed. I walk around limbs and fingers, carefully making my way to the door on the far end. I look back at them, my hand on the door. “Thank you.”

  A few of them smile. The rest break out into hushed chatter. I barely hear the two girls whispering beside me.