Fragmented

by Madeline Dyer

  I turn back to him, look up and—

  My heart speeds up as I stare at the…at the image.

  It’s just a painting. It hasn’t moved. In it, Death isn’t facing me like I thought he was. He’s still looking to my left, still hunched over, so he fits in the box. His arms are still twisting the wrong way from his body, neither pointing at me.

  The painting is all that is here. Just a painting—a flat, non-moving image.

  Death isn’t here, it’s not like before—when Raleigh was… I try to calm myself. It’s just a painting. The words were the same—an echo, a memory. That’s all. I’m scaring myself. And I’m hallucinating—the image can’t have moved. It’s a painting, for the Gods’ sake! I’m going mad. And the air’s getting thicker, thicker with color, stronger. Something hisses. Pressure forms in my ears. As if I’m underwater.

  Volcanic gasses. It’s got to be. I’m hallucinating, reliving memories….

  I take a deep breath, then touch the painting, spread my fingers wide over it, and—

  “No, this is the Dream Land, Seven Sarr.”

  I yank my hand back and look. The cave shimmers.

  Death’s elbows glow brighter as he pulls away from the wall again. The light gets brighter, and he starts to turn so I can see his face—and I know I will, it won’t just be in darkness this time. But I mustn’t see his face. No one must see it.

  I swivel and run. And—

  “Obey the Dream Land warnings, Seven Sarr, else Death will not be pleased. The mask of betrayal fits you well enough already—do you want it to be a permanent fixture?”

  The voice is loud, and it’s his voice. He’s behind me. The man in the black cloak with the glowing elbows. Death, himself.

  “Death knows all. Death sees all, and Death may be drawn to you, but Death will not give many more chances.”

  I stop. Blood pounds my ears. I won’t look. I won’t turn around.

  I won’t.

  “The Dream Land exists for a reason, Seven Sarr. Do not ignore the Dream Land warnings.” His elbows glow brighter, and his voice gets more severe. “Raleigh still has your eyes. Do not give him the chance to use them again.”

  My body jolts. Raleigh? He’s been using my eyes all this time…still? I press my hands to my stomach. Is there another kavalah in me?

  Death glares at me. “The stench of a traitor may cling to your skeleton, but do not let it become you. Do not let the gold cobwebs grow and rust further.”

  There’s a long pause, and I hear rushing sounds in my ears.

  “Your soul is already Death’s soul. You will always belong to Death. You do not want to give him another reason to hate you.”

  I run, and the cave goes back to normal, no longer shimmers. It’s a relief, but oh Gods—Death knows I didn’t follow what the Gods told me. Knows I showed Raleigh the part of the Noir Lands where the Zharat live—that I showed him twice, because I looked through the grid at the end of that tube…. But I thought it was safe then, I thought my eyes were only mine!

  But I was wrong.

  Raleigh still had them. Or had got them again…

  And Death knows I betrayed them.

  You are marked for what you are. The mask of betrayal hangs over your aura, like gold cobwebs, rusting. Your body will rot under Death’s command, long before your soul is allowed an escape from the decaying flesh of your ribs.

  I flinch, then shake my head, paw at my temples, feel sicker than ever. When I die—when my death ends the suffering, like he said it would—he’ll have my soul. A traitor’s soul is never free.

  You do not want to give Death another reason to hate you.

  I try to remain calm, but that feels impossible. Raleigh’s still got my eyes, can still use them. Maybe that kavalah spirit was just the start of it all, maybe it left a tracker or something… A way for Raleigh to always be able to see through my eyes….

  Oh Gods.

  “Sev?”

  Suddenly, Corin’s standing in front of me, in the tube. He stares at me, and I stare at him.

  “Are you okay? No more fainting?” He peers at me, and I’m sure I should be asking after his health—not the other way around. He looks awful—sallow skin, covered in what looks like a sticky sheen of sweat.

  I start to reach out for him, but stop.

  Jed.

  We have an appearance to keep up. You do not want to make me unhappy.

  “I—I…” I shake my head, don’t know what I’m saying. I need to tell him everything.

  “Sev?”

  Concern flashes into his eyes, and I want to tell him about Death—how I saw him when Raleigh tortured me, how I’ve seen Death again, and how he knows I went outside, that Raleigh could’ve seen—

  That Raleigh didn’t see… If he had, Death would’ve told me just now. He’d have been even more angry, furious. No. Death told me not to give Raleigh the chance to use my eyes again… So Raleigh didn’t take that chance before…or either of them. No, this is a warning. A warning not to do it again.

  But did Death really say that? Aren’t you twisting it? Twisting it to make you feel better? Death didn’t say Raleigh didn’t use your eyes either time…just that you mustn’t allow him the opportunity again.

  Oh Gods. No. I shake my head. No. If Raleigh had seen anything, Death would’ve made sure I knew.

  I take a deep breath. I’m still shaking. I stare at Corin, wonder how he’ll react if I tell him about Death… Because no one speaks of Death, ever. I press my lips together, taste salt. What if Corin thinks I’m going mad, that it’s all too much for me?

  “Look, don’t worry,” Corin says. “I’ve been making plans. This will all be over soon. We’re going to wait a week, then the three of us can escape. You, me, and Esther. Oh, and Clare—she’s coming with us. We’ll go out a proper exit this time. I’ve been talking to the other men, and they’ve got other lorries. They keep them a few miles from the lower tube exits, and I know where the keys are. It’ll be easy.”

  There’s a slight spark in Corin’s eyes—something I haven’t seen in a long, long time.

  I stare at him.

  Raleigh still has your eyes. Do not give him the chance to use them again.

  “No. We can’t…” My voice is too high, I’m sweating. “Corin, we’ll get caught—and killed this time, Jed’s not going to save us again. And we’re not allowed to leave.”

  I can’t leave. Death’s made sure of that. If I left, Raleigh would use my eyes this time. And he’d find out where the Fire Mountain is… He’d come here, convert everyone. Nyesha and Soraya, and all the others—the ones I actually care about. And the children, the babies—there are so many of them.

  Corin takes hold of both my hands in one of his. I stare at his fingers. They’re bruised, look painful. And there are more bruises too, ones that go up his arms.

  “We won’t get caught,” he says. “I’ve told you, I’ve made plans. This isn’t like before, we were too hasty—this is going to work.”

  I breathe hard, shake my head again. Pain flits over my left eye.

  Raleigh has your eyes.

  My chest tightens. The warning: don’t betray the Untamed. And it was a warning. Seeing the bison and Death in the cave—no the Dream Land… A proper warning.

  I mustn’t betray the Untamed again, I mustn’t go outside.

  I look at Corin. “I can’t go. Can’t leave.”

  “Of course you can leave.”

  “No. Raleigh—that warning, Corin. The one I told you about. Raleigh’s got my eyes….”

  His eyes narrow. “But I thought—”

  “He’s got them again—or still.” My chest tightens, and I shake my head. “Corin, I can’t put all the Zharat in danger, just because I want to get away.”

  Corin’s face darkens. He lets go of my hands. “You were going to get away before.”

  I look around, and my tears threaten to fall. “I thought Raleigh didn’t have my eyes then…but he did.”

  “Oh.”
The look in Corin’s eyes changes. “It’s true then.”

  “What?” I frown.

  He looks away. “What those women were talking about this morning… You saying you’re happy with Jed. That you’re pleased he won you because he’s a Seer…” His tone darkens. “The greatest protector.”

  “What? No! I never said that, Corin—I’m not happy! You know I’m not happy! I wanted to escape—”

  “Wanted.” His eyes seem to flash. “Past tense.”

  I stare at him, hug my chest. “Corin, I—”

  Corin’s arm jerks out, but he doesn’t touch me. Then I realize it’s our old gesture to be quiet—the one we used on raids. I look past him, see two very young girls, holding hands. One has three pale pink flowers in her hair, the other has one tucked into the belt on her dress.

  We wait for them to pass; they watch us curiously.

  “But you’re not fighting it now,” Corin hisses a few minutes later. “It was me who proposed, me who tried to find ways around it. And we can escape, we can, but you don’t want to try.”

  “Because it’ll lead the Enhanced here, Corin! There are hundreds of Untamed here, I can’t do that to them.”

  “You didn’t mind before.”

  I shake my head; he’s not listening. I didn’t think Raleigh had my eyes then! And Death’s watching me. Waiting for me to slip up. I rock back on my heels.

  “You just don’t want to try.” Corin wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, shakes his head. Then he looks at my hands, at my ring. “It’s him, isn’t it? Jed.”

  “What?”

  “He’s making you say this, getting in your head. Controlling you—just like Manning’s doing with Esther.”

  “No!” I try to reach for him, but he moves his hand. “No, Corin, Jed’s not.”

  He turns away. “Look, if this is what it’s going to be like—him just…controlling you like this… Well, I can’t do this anymore. It’s too painful, when I want to be with you—when I’d do anything to be with you—but you won’t because you’re scared of him. You won’t even try anymore. And we’ve got a chance here, to get away, to be together, but you don’t even want to try because of your fear.”

  “Corin, you’re not being fair. This isn’t about me, it’s about all the Zharat, all the—”

  “No, Seven. This isn’t about them—I don’t care about them. I care about us. And it’s always me who’s trying. You’ve given up on us. I don’t know what’s going through your head—maybe you think you deserve no quality of life because you took augmenters before and wanted to join the Enhanced, and this is your punishment—but you’ve obviously made your mind up and decided you have to be with Jed—that it would be easier or something—and not fight for us. So, I won’t either.”

  I stare at him, aghast. And I want to tell him that it’s okay, because Jed’s not interested in me in a romantic way. But I can’t get the words out. I just stare at him.

  “How can you—” I break off. “Corin, we can’t fight them! Look at what they’re doing to you!” I grab at his arms, make him look at all the bruises.

  The light goes out of his eyes.

  “Look at what they’re doing to me?” He shakes his head. “You’re not the girl who arrived here, Sev. She would’ve fought this. As pathetic as she was at times, she would’ve fought this.”

  My eyes blur over. My body jolts. No.

  Corin meets my eyes slowly, but his gaze isn’t strong. “I can’t do this. Not anymore, Sev. Not now. You’ve changed, given up. I don’t know what he’s done to you, but you’re getting farther and farther away from the girl I fell in love with.”

  Jed collects me from the food preparation area when he returns from the hunt, and he seems to know Corin and I have argued. He smiles—and I know this was what he wanted, wonder if he got those women to talk about me being happy with him in a place where he knew Corin would overhear. Or did he say something to him last night? When he said he was taking Corin to have his head checked after he hit it? My shoulders tighten. I should’ve asked Corin about his head.

  Jed takes me to his room and smiles with a softness I didn’t know he had. Still, I don’t speak. He goes out for a minute, returns with hot drinks—one for him, one for me. He hands mine to me, along with his questions. I sip at the drink, stare straight ahead. My eyes are playing tricks on me because, for a moment, I think I see the snake spirit watching me from the far wall, next to the water bucket. But I blink, and it’s gone.

  Great. I’m going mad.

  After a while, Jed stops asking questions, starts talking at me. Tells me about a couple of the men who have annoyed him today, how they’re acting differently. How they seem to have forgotten all the rules of the Zharat lifestyle.

  “He didn’t even know how to hold a spear properly,” he says. “It was as if he was using it for the first time.”

  I just stare at the wall, bring my knees up to my chest, rest my chin on them. Everything looks glassy. I swallow hard.

  It didn’t even take Corin a week. Not even a week to give up on me after the Zharat engaged me to Jed. Just—what?—a day. How can it only have been a day? All that stuff…all those things that have happened….

  But Corin’s right… I didn’t fight it. Not like how I should’ve.

  And now Corin’s going to leave. Why would he stay when he hates it here? He’s just going to go. Or get caught? Killed? I drum my fingers against my shins, the rhythm of hoof beats.

  Maybe he’s just angry. Maybe Corin didn’t mean all that. Surely he knows we’ve got to be careful? And I can’t leave and let the Enhanced know where the Zharat live—I’d thought Corin of all people would understand since his parents died in a conversion attack.

  “Come on, S’ven. It is time for bed.”

  I stare at Jed. Is it nighttime already? My stomach rumbles a little, I can’t remember whether I’ve eaten today, but I’m not hungry anyway.

  I feel Jed’s hands on me, pulling at my clothes. The flaxen-brass yellow shirt comes off, over my head. I don’t do anything. Feel cold, empty. He puts a yellow gown or something on me, buttons it up, then pulls back the covers on my bed. I get in, still wearing the brown shorts underneath.

  I lie down, shut my eyes, but I won’t let myself sleep. Not this time.

  Darkness.

  For a second, I think I smell cigarette smoke. Corin. My chest aches. I roll onto my side, the blankets make crinkly noises.

  I don’t sleep. Hours pass, and I don’t sleep. I just lie here, thinking. But I can’t think. There’s too much fog to swim through. So I listen to Jed’s breathing, Jed’s stirrings, Jed’s snoring.

  My husband.

  I swallow awkwardly. I start thinking things—things that don’t make me feel any better. So I think of other things. How the bison said I was the key to the Untamed, how if the Enhanced have me they’ll have all the Untamed.

  Then I freeze.

  They’ve already got part of me—Raleigh’s got my eyes. And I don’t know how I didn’t realized that before…how I didn’t connect it… The Enhanced have got part of me…and if they have me, they’ll get all of us.

  Oh Gods. What if it’s enough? Can they get all the Untamed by just having my eyes?

  I try to remain calm—try my hardest, but my breathing increases its speed, and my head pounds. I try to think.

  The Zharat are still here, safe, and—as long as they are—the Enhanced can’t have all the Untamed. A part of me isn’t good enough. The Enhanced must need all of me to get all the Untamed….

  But the bison told me before—what seems like ages ago—that Raleigh would always be able to find me. But he can’t. Not if I don’t show him where I am. Not if I stay here. And staying where I am—making sure Raleigh doesn’t know where we are—is the only thing I can do to make sure Raleigh doesn’t get all of me, doesn’t get all the Zharat…all the Untamed? Because I’m the key to the Untamed.

  My eyes widen. Are we—the Zharat—the only ones left? Is that
what this means?

  The question burns my insides, because I know the answer—I feel it in me—and I realize now I should never have tried to escape. Should never have gone outside with Jed. It’s not just the Zharat I’d be ending if Raleigh saw where we lived.

  Because we’re the last ones.

  If Raleigh and his armies find us, we’ll get converted.

  And the Untamed will be extinct.

  I press my lips together and try to breathe out through my mouth at the same time, feel my ears pop. My chest makes a funny noise as I hiccup. I am doing the right thing staying here.

  I have to keep us safe, have to keep the Untamed race alive.

  The next morning, I watch Jed as he leaves. He says he’ll be back in ten minutes to take me to the gathering room. That he has Seer business to attend to first.

  After a few seconds, I pull myself away from the warmth of my bed, find some fresh clothes apparently waiting for me: a yellow strappy top, a button-up outer shirt—also yellow—that will cover my Seer pendant, and a pair of tight, black jeans that are a little too short. For some reason, the outer shirt reminds me of one Corin once wore, and I struggle to blink back tears, tell myself to get a grip.

  Then I peel off my nightdress, and—

  For seconds, I can’t move.

  I let my nightdress fall to the floor, horrified.

  The marks—the insects’ marks. There are more. They’re… I stare at my skin; they’re joining up, the bites, making shapes. Slashes in my skin, four of them down my left side, stretching from just under my breast, angling toward my hip bone. It looks like writing now—crude letters, but I can’t make them out.

  I take several deep breaths. These extra bites weren’t here yesterday, were they? I try to remember, but I can’t. Still, I don’t think they were. There must be mites in the bed.

  I touch the bite marks. They are raised, jagged, and feel strangely oily. I frown. There are smaller dots around them, individual puncture marks? I run my fingernails over them, trying to scratch them away, but all I do is aggravate my skin. Tiny, raw bumps appear, too painful to touch now.

  I rush to the water bucket in the corner of the room, dip my hand in, then splash it onto my skin. I scrub at the little marks, until they’re bleeding. But they won’t go away. Of course they won’t, they’re insect bites. And I feel stupid for trying.