Haven Lost

by Josh de Lioncourt

  Flip…flip…flip…

  The boy’s screams drove the images from Emily’s mind as suddenly as they’d come. Dazed, she looked down to see him writhing and convulsing atop his bed of straw. He was scratching at Celine’s hands where they clutched at his chest, the knuckles turning white.

  Corbbmacc reached out to pry the boy free of Celine’s grasp, but Emily grabbed his arm with her free hand and yanked him back. He overbalanced and had to catch himself before knocking his head on the hard concrete floor.

  “Just wait,” she hissed at him.

  Beneath her other arm, Celine continued to vibrate and shake.

  And still, the boy’s screams went on and on, amplified by the bare walls and floor.

  And then, it was over—completely and suddenly.

  Celine fell backward onto the floor, pulling Emily down on top of her.

  The boy’s screams stopped all at once, and he lay panting with his eyes closed and his body shaking spasmodically.

  Corbbmacc stared down at him, listening.

  The boy’s breathing was strong and clear. There was no liquid gurgling from his throat and no hitch in his gasps.

  Corbbmacc reached out and prodded the boy’s arms, then his legs, then his chest.

  Emily watched him, half sitting, half lying beside Celine’s sobbing form. She rocked the girl gently and felt tears running down her own face.

  “His bones…they aren’t broken anymore,” Corbbmacc said, a strange flatness in his voice. Beside him, the boy’s breaths were gradually settling into the slow, steady rhythm of deep sleep.

  “No, they’re not,” Emily said, and she went on holding Celine fiercely as she wept.

  She suspected the knowing hadn’t shown her half of what Celine must relive every time she used her power, and she was glad. What she’d seen of Celine’s life was plenty, and far worse than she’d imagined.

  As the silence spun out, Celine’s sobs, too, began to subside, and she sat up, wiping the last of her tears from her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” Celine said to no one in particular. “I’m so sorry.”

  She looked at Emily, and her wet cheeks glistened in the candlelight. Emily stared back.

  There was a streak of purest white now, amidst Celine’s golden locks.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Emily rocked gently on her heels as the rising sun colored in the world around her with the graceful slowness of a ballet. The sky began to fade, first to purple, then to a cloudless blue. Shadows retreated back into the nooks and crevices from which they’d crept during the long hours of the night. Before her, across the dirt road and the steep, rocky shoreline, the mass of ocean waves rippled like the flesh of some terrible monster as they shifted from an inky black to a deep, rich sapphire.

  She took a long, deep breath, savoring the salty air, and looked down the road that stretched back the way they’d come. It remained empty and silent. Weeds tumbled across it in the light wind that gusted, now and then, off the water.

  Corbbmacc had insisted that they keep a watch, just in case the guards did make it this far before dawn. Neither had even suggested Celine take a turn, and the boy was obviously out of the question. What was left of the night would be divided between just the two of them.

  He’d taken the first watch and let her sleep, but it had been a thin and restless affair. She found herself torn with indecision about the future and guilt about the events of that night. Her thoughts had fluttered like moths’ wings, beating at the inside of her skull. She tried to catch and crush them, but they kept darting away, only to return to torment her once more as she crept toward the edge of sleep.

  She didn’t trust Corbbmacc or this Dragon’s Brood, whether they’d helped them escape or not. The memory of the devastation at the Stay Inn was still too fresh in her mind. The sight of William’s severed head, staring up at her with sightless eyes and scrambled eggs clinging to his beard, was likely to haunt her for the rest of her life.

  But if they didn’t go with Corbbmacc, at least for a while, where would they go? She knew almost as little about this world now as when she’d arrived. Neither option felt right.

  A couple of hours before dawn, Corbbmacc had roused her to start her own watch. That had turned out to be a blessing. The fresh air had cleared her head, and in the stillness and solitude, she’d been able to think more rationally about their predicament.

  For now, they’d have to stick with Corbbmacc. Hopefully, in doing so, they could get a sense of the land an perhaps make a plan to strike out on their own. At the moment, the most important thing was putting as much space between themselves and Seven Skies as was possible. Staying with Corbbmacc for the time being was the only practical course of action to accomplish that.

  Her reverie was interrupted by the soft crunch of gravel, and she turned to see the boy moving slowly toward her, framed by the rising sun. His hair was matted, and blood was still caked on his chin. His tattered denim jacket hung open, and she could see the tattoo clearly in the early morning light. It depicted a dragon, swooping downward at an angle from his left shoulder. Fire spewed from its mighty jaws, and, seated astride the creature’s back, the tiny figure of a knight held aloft a sword.

  He stopped when he saw her looking at him, and his brow furrowed.

  “Hi. C’mon,” Emily said. “Come sit down.” She patted the ground beside her. The boy frowned.

  “Derek?” he asked, a confused but decidedly hopeful note in his voice.

  Emily shook her head. “I don’t know Derek.” She patted the ground beside her again.

  His face fell, but he came forward and sat beside her on the ground. He brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them protectively.

  Emily studied him for a moment, then turned back to watch the road. Somewhere in the distance, a seagull shrieked a welcome to the dawn.

  “Derek?” the boy asked again.

  Emily turned to meet his gaze. Uncertainty clouded his eyes, and behind it a deep frustration was boiling just below the surface. He looked like a small child, desperately trying to work out how to fit together the last two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that was a shade too difficult for him. He absently reached up and wiped a little of the crusted blood from his lips as he stared at her intently.

  “I don’t know Derek,” she repeated. “Can you tell me who Derek is?”

  The boy seemed to think about this, picking at the corner of his mouth and frowning again.

  “Derek…friend…” he said, and his eyes shifted upward to look over and beyond her shoulder, as if he was searching for something only he could see.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know where Derek is. But I’ll be your friend.”

  His eyes returned to hers. He leaned forward, studying her.

  “You Derek?”

  “No, I’m Emily.” She pointed at herself, feeling ridiculous. “Em…il…lee,” she said slowly.

  The boy grinned.

  “No,” he said. He pointed at her and, mimicking her slow tone, said, “Der…ek.”

  Emily smiled. “No. I’m Emily. What’s your name?”

  He seemed to be listening, but a line appeared between his brows, and it was as though he was trying very hard to sort out what she was saying.

  Emily pointed to herself again. “Emily.” She pointed at him and raised her eyebrows.

  For a few more seconds, the boy simply stared at her, bewildered. Then understanding dawned in his eyes, and he pointed at himself.

  “Michael,” he said. Then he pointed at her. “Derek.”

  She was about to protest again when a shadow fell over her, and Celine sank to the ground on her other side. She looked haggard and wan. There were dark circles beneath her eyes, making them seem set deep in their sockets, and the streak of white Emily had seen last night was startlingly bright in the harsh light of day.

  “He’s up and movin’,” she observed, eyeing the boy.

  “Yeah.” Emily looked away, uncomf
ortable. Celine had done what needed doing last night, but she’d done it because Emily had asked her to—almost forced her to—and the cost of her actions was all too apparent. Fresh guilt twisted inside her again.

  The seconds unfurled between them.

  Emily felt Celine’s hand on her arm, and she looked back to meet her gaze.

  “It’s a’right, Em,” Celine said. “I did what I ’ad to, ’sall. I woulda done it anyway. Least ways I ’ope so. It’s just sometimes I need a kick in…”

  The boy, oblivious to their conversation, had scooted around on the loose gravel to face them. He tugged on Celine’s arm, and when she looked over at him, he pointed at the center of his chest.

  “Michael.” He pointed at Celine and raised his eyebrows in such an apparent imitation of Emily’s gesture from a moment before that she couldn’t help but laugh.

  Celine was smiling, too. “Celine,” she told him. “And yeh’re Michael, are yeh? Nice to ’ave a name for yeh. Better than just bein’ ‘the boy’, ain’t it?”

  This was evidently too much for him. He shook his head as if to ward off a pesky fly, then pointed at himself again.

  “Michael.” He pointed at Celine. “Celine?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Celine said, nodding. “Celine. I’m Celine.”

  He pointed at Emily.

  “Derek!” he said with triumph.

  Celine cast Emily a sideways glance.

  “I know,” she sighed. “I keep telling him it’s Emily, but he keeps calling me Derek. What the hell? Do I look like a boy to you?”

  “No, you don’t.” Both of them jumped as Corbbmacc’s voice broke the stillness, and he stomped his way toward them, looking grim.

  “I told you to keep watch,” he glared at Emily, “not throw a bleeding party out here.”

  “I’ve been watching,” Emily said, getting to her feet and brushing gravel from her legs. “No one has come anywhere near here.”

  “Well, that’s going to change soon, now that it’s daylight. We need to get moving. Come on inside.”

  He turned on his heel and led the way back around the building.

  “So, he’s not a mornin’ person, then,” Celine said, and she stood as well, pulling Michael up with her. One corner of her mouth twitched.

  Emily shrugged, then hurried to fall into step alongside Corbbmacc. Celine and the boy trailed behind them in companionable silence.

  Michael, she told herself. His name is Michael. Better get used to that.

  They turned the corner and the horses came into view. Storm nuzzled her side with her nose, and Emily paused to pat it gently.

  “I bet you’re hungry,” she murmured while the others caught up. The mare looked at her from her large, gentle eyes, and Emily smiled. Storm flicked her ears.

  She’d never been within fifty feet of a horse in her life, but she definitely liked Storm. There was something about the horse that was inexplicably soothing. She gave her one last pat, then turned to go inside, Celine and Michael at her heels.

  Corbbmacc had pulled a few boxes from a dark corner into the center of the floor and was digging through them. He tossed a small leather bag to Emily without looking up. It hit the concrete floor at her feet with a soft thud.

  “Breakfast. Share it with the others.”

  She picked it up and pulled the drawstring. A thick, meaty smell wafted from its depths, and her stomach rumbled again. Warily, she reached inside and pulled out a small, square piece of jerky.

  “Where’d this come from?” she asked him, unsure she really wanted to know.

  “The Brood stores some supplies here and in other places for situations like we’re in. Shut up and eat it. We don’t have time for stupid questions.” He held out a flask made of some dull metal and Emily took it, hearing water slosh inside. “I want to be on our way again in half an hour. Less if we can manage it.”

  As she divided out the jerky for herself and the others, Corbbmacc went on packing some of the provisions into saddle bags he’d brought in, and they ate their breakfast in awkward silence.

  “Got to give the horses some water,” he said to no one in particular and stomped out.

  “Yeh know,” Celine said, staring after Corbbmacc’s retreating back, “I don’t think it’s just that he’s not a mornin’ person. He’s kind of an arse, ain’t he? I don’t like ’im much.”

  Emily shrugged. She wasn’t sure what to make of Corbbmacc. Mostly, he seemed surly, sarcastic, and just plain rude. Every once in a while, though, he did display a capacity for other emotions, like compassion. She wondered if there was something more behind the gruff facade—something he was hiding, the way she’d hidden behind her hockey all those years.

  “I guess we’re goin’ on with ’im, then?” Celine asked, turning her gaze to Michael as he contentedly munched his jerky.

  “For now,” Emily said, lowering her voice. “Blundering blindly around seems like a very bad idea.”

  Celine snorted. “This from the girl who wanted to ‘wing it’.”

  Torn between annoyance and mild amusement, Emily schooled her features into an impassive expression and let the comment pass.

  “First chance we have to split off from him,” she went on, “we will.”

  “And what about ’im?” Celine asked, jerking her head in Michael’s direction.

  Emily bit her lip. What about him, indeed? She didn’t like the idea of leaving him in the questionable care of the Dragon’s Brood, but given that he seemed to be one of them, wasn’t that where he belonged?

  She didn’t get a chance to pursue that thought any further. Corbbmacc came hurtling back in from outside.

  “They’re coming,” he said. “We need to go.”

  Emily scrambled to her feet, dropping her last piece of jerky in her haste. Beside her, Celine pulled Michael up as well, though not without a sound of protest.

  “Get on Storm,” Corbbmacc said over his shoulder as he began gathering up the saddlebags. “The boy rides with me.”

  They dashed outside. Celine guided Michael straight to the horses, but Emily turned and ran down the length of the back wall. She stopped just shy of the building’s corner and peeked around the side.

  Far down the road in the distance, she could just make out tiny black dots on the horizon, moving toward them. How could Corbbmacc be so sure they were the guards? She supposed they couldn’t afford to take any chances, though.

  She darted back to Storm and clambered up in front of Celine.

  Corbbmacc was already securing the bags to his horse’s side. He tied the final strap, then helped Michael into the saddle. The boy showed surprising grace as he swung one leg over the horse’s broad back, and he sat easily, as though he’d ridden before. He was such an endless series of contradictions.

  Corbbmacc untied the tethers, wound them up quickly, then mounted his steed in front of Michael.

  “Follow me,” he said and steered his horse across the expanse of broken concrete, away from the road.

  The pavement ended at a gentle descent that led them down to the edge of a thickly wooded area. Emily examined the trees warily, then glanced over her shoulder. She couldn’t see the road from here, but she could feel the riders approaching all the same. Probably her imagination, but still…

  “Are yeh sure that’s a good idea?” Celine called, evidently having the same thought about plunging into all that greenery. Besides, how would they ever get their horses between the trees? There wasn’t nearly enough space.

  Corbbmacc ignored Celine’s question. He seemed to be intent on guiding his horse deliberately through the underbrush and past a tree whose trunk forked a few feet above their heads.

  All at once, Corbbmacc was gone. One moment he was there, and the next he’d been swallowed up by the forest.

  Emily hauled back on Storm’s reins, trying to remember how to make her stop, but the mare ignored her and docilely followed Corbbmacc into the woods.

  As they passed into the cool shade of the t
rees, the brush seemed to part before them, and they were on a narrow but perfectly visible path that was entirely hidden from outside the line of trees. Emily glanced back as the wall of flora closed behind Storm, blocking the view of their former sanctuary.

  Corbbmacc had stopped a few feet further on and was looking back at them over his shoulder.

  “It’s fine,” he said. “Marianne’s powers don’t extend this far.”

  “How do you know that?” Emily asked, looking uneasily up into the branches overhead. The soft rustle of the leaves was making her flesh crawl uncomfortably.

  “The Brood knows loads of stuff.” He kicked his heels into his horse’s sides and proceeded into the forest.

  For a while, they rode in silence. The path led them deeper into the woods until a nearly solid canopy of leaves and branches hung over it. Now and then, Emily caught sight of grotesque creatures amidst the perfectly normal fauna. A two-headed crow watched them imperiously as they passed beneath its perch, each of its four eyes a different color of the rainbow. What looked like a winged possum with something like a bird’s beak at the end of its unnaturally long snout fluttered out of a tree mere inches from her face. It soared deeper into the forest as she let out a startled cry.

  Everything around them seemed full of vibrant life, but that life was as strange and unnatural as the creatures in Alice’s Wonderland. Just what in hell had happened to the world? And how many years into the future had she been tossed, exactly? In stories, those sorts of things always happened for a reason. Surely, this couldn’t all be an accident—could it?

  Gradually, the path curved toward the southeast in a slow, lazy arc.

  “Isn’t this taking us back toward Seven Skies?” Emily asked as Corbbmacc showed no sign of slowing.

  He threw her an irritable glance. “Christ, you ask a lot of questions. It’s going to take us well wide of the city, and we’re going to head east off of it shortly thereafter. We have to double back a bit to get where we’re going.”

  “Which is…where, exactly?”

  Corbbmacc’s only response was an explosive huff. He urged his horse faster, and Emily did the best she could to encourage Storm to keep up.