by D. S. Murphy
I paused at a tall archway carved into the wall, with motifs of sea life in bright mosaics. Steps led down deeper, underneath the city. Trevor followed me without comment as I lifted the skirts of my dress and descended down the stairs.
My eyes lit up in surprise when we reached the bottom. It was some kind of underground corridor, connecting one corner of the compound to the other, facing the sea, but one wall was completely made of transparent glass.
On the other side, through the dark blue ocean waters, I could see the subtle glow of pink jellyfish, undulating in the tide.
“It’s so beautiful,” I breathed, stopping to peer closer at the glass.
“We shouldn’t stay,” Trevor said, though he came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. I turned my head to brush my cheek against his fingers.
We stood still for several minutes, silhouetted by the glow of the marine life.
“Don’t you think it’s weird, her father barely asking questions?”
“Maybe he was afraid,” Trevor said.
“Of what, his daughter?”
“She’s elite now,” Trevor said. “And you should be scared of her, too. You saw her at dinner. She’s barely in control of herself.”
I frowned. I would have done the same, or worse, if it were Loralie.
“And what about Augustine?” I asked. It was, as far as I knew, the most time Trevor had ever spent with an elite.
“He’s lying,” Trevor said after a moment. “We should leave, as soon as possible. Tonight. We aren’t safe here.”
“Jazmine’s not ready to travel,” I said. “And Lord Hudson said it was three days until the next renewal.”
“Even so she’d only get one drop of elixir. It may not be enough to heal her wounds. Maybe we should leave her here. We can pick her up on the way back.”
I shoved away from him, spinning in the near darkness.
“We aren’t leaving anyone,” I said.
“Fine, but think about the risk. We have one elite, three chosen and a slagpaw – except precious little elixir. If I do turn again, I won’t have enough to shift back. Jazmine can barely walk, and without elixir, you and Camina aren’t much good either. If it comes down to a fight, you’re relying on Penelope to protect us from Augustine. And he has decades of experience on her.”
I read the truth in his eyes; he didn’t like depending on an elite for anything. And he wasn’t exactly wrong. We needed to even the odds.
We kept walking, and at the end of the corridor I noticed a small tunnel carved through the rock, leading up. We emerged facing a sandy cove, filled with small, brightly painted fishing boats. Nets were hung to dry against the rocks.
I took my shoes off, feeling the wet sand beneath my feet. Trevor glanced around us nervously, but we were alone – the walls of Crollust extended all the way into the water, lined with wooden piers that formed a small harbor, protected from predators and the elements.
We found a flat boat filled with nets and Trevor offered me a hand, helping me up over the stern before lying back against the coils of rope.
He pulled a small flask out of his pocket and grinned before taking a deep sip and handing it to me.
“Compliments of Lord Hudson,” he said.
“Of course you raided his liquor cabinet.”
“He said to make ourselves at home.”
The liquid burned the back of my throat, but soon filled with me a pleasant warmth. I took another sip and felt the tightness I’d been carrying in my shoulders melt away.
The ash was thin here, no doubt we were just on the edge of the ranged purification engines, and the dark sky was filled with bright embers. If I squinted, I could imagine they were far away stars. Far above them I could see a bright patch of light clouds, casting a blueish gleam on the sand and ocean.
“Looks like a full moon,” Trevor said.
“I wish we could see it,” I said, leaning into the gentle rocking of the boat.
For a moment, it was like when we were younger, falling asleep together, with Trevor’s arms around me, the open sky above us. No masks or weapons, or imminent danger.
I never allowed myself to dream of a future together, not really, but it was hard not to wonder what life would have been like if I hadn’t been chosen; if I’d accepted Trevor’s proposal. He’d have taken over his father’s business. My mother would still be alive. And we’d be happy. At least for a few years. Until Loralie turned 17, and then it could all be taken away from us.
I tightened my fingers into fists, realizing how cold they’d gotten. I shifted gently out from Trevor’s arms. From the way his chest rose and fell, I knew that he was sleeping. Maybe that was for the best. There was something I needed to do, and it would be easier to do on my own.
I ran across the beach quickly, stopping to put on my shoes before entering the city and retracing our steps through the tunnels until I came out at the edge of the compound. Lanterns were lit along the walls, gleaming off the polished stones, and my eyes traced the path I needed to take, winding up the staircases to reach the renewal center at the top of the walls.
It was more austere than the cozy renewal centers of Algrave, and not as grand as the epic basilica in the citadel. This building was tall and pointy, like a black crown, with narrow windows that shone like yellow jewels in the darkness. The front doors were carved into elaborate scenes of the Culling, and the founding of the covenant. Scenes I used to take on faith, but which I’d now begun to question. There was so much we didn’t really know about that time. I wondered how much of the king’s history was really true.
The door was locked, so I pulled myself up on top of a spiked gate ringing the outer barricade, and shuffled sideways, clinging to the external frame of the building until I was out over the ramparts. I cursed at my gown, inching forward slowly so I wouldn’t trip on the bulky folds of fabric.
A bitter wind tore at my grip, and I sucked in a sharp breath, eyeing the hundred-foot drop below. But the effort was worth it; someone had left a window on this side open. I stuck my fingers into the narrow gap and lifted the frame, before climbing inside. Carefully placed lights illuminated sweeping arches and a high ceiling, that rose up into the tall vertical shaft of its apex.
At the top a bright electrical light rotated slowly, making the shadows dance like smoke around me. A central altar featured a golden statue of King Richard, his wrists slit and an expression of agony on his face, feeding the people his miraculous healing blood and saving them from disease. I searched the back rooms until I found what I was looking for; a box of elixir, stamped with the royal seal. I frowned at the heavy padlock that secured the lid, before glancing at the rudimentary bracelet April had made me.
It was blank, which meant I was running on fumes. I hadn’t had more than a few drops of Penelope’s blood on the journey, and I knew she’d probably never fed properly, not like most elite, so it was already weakened at best. I could already feel the drowsiness, though it could have been the whisky I’d shared with Trevor at the beach. At any rate, I didn’t have the tools or strength to open the crate and get what I came for.
Then I glanced up at the tower. I took the box in both arms, grateful it wasn’t that heavy, and began to climb the winding stairs into the tower.
At the top, I stepped out onto the narrow balcony overlooking the city, taking a deep breath at the now quiet and mostly dark town. On the edge of the walls I could see guards on their rounds, the glint of their swords and silver armor reflecting under the flaming torches. I wouldn’t have much time.
I hesitated briefly. Part of me knew this was a really bad idea. That’s probably why I hadn’t wanted Trevor to come. He would have talked me out of it; of risking more when we were already so exposed. But we needed this.
I felt a pang of guilt, as I lifted the wooden crate up over the low railing, but consoled myself that there were other boxes; enough for a week or two of renewals, surely, and by that time the citad
el would be forced to send replacements.
I watched until the guards had passed, then I took a deep breath and let go. The box plummeted from the tower, whistling through the air before smashing on the cobblestones far below.
My heart leapt at the sound of splintering wood and breaking glass. I raced downstairs, opening a side window to avoid the treacherous journey I’d risked the first time, and continued down the winding stairs of Crollust’s walls until I reached the bottom.
I heard shouts and ducked into the shadows as guards ran past me. Two of them discovered the box first, kicking over the splintered remains. Elixir shone from the broken glass, and I had to stop myself from rushing out into the open. I would have licked it up from the stones if I could, glass shards and all. But then I spotted something nearby the guards had missed; a few vials had been thrown on impact and rolled away from the broken crate. More guards were approaching, but so were villagers, drawn by the commotion, and a tall, stern looking curate, in navy robes and fierce gold eyebrows. I didn’t have much time, but I could try and blend in with the crowd.
I darted from my hiding place, spinning around bystanders and a tall statue, keeping my eyes fixed on the elixir until I was close enough to scoop it out of the gutter with one hand.
The other intact vial was less easy; resting almost directly beneath someone’s boot. In a moment, it would get stepped on by a careless guard. I stepped briskly from cover, pretending to tie my shoelace, before snatching the vial and tucking it into my boot. I smiled at my victory, until a hand grabbed my wrist and flung me up against a wall with inhuman strength.
A pair of penetrating violet eyes peered at me in the darkness, turning my blood to ice.
Augustine pulled me quickly away into a dark alley.
“Care to explain yourself?” he asked, a touch of humor in his voice.
I reached for the dagger under my cloak but he knocked it away, stabbing it into the wall just behind my ear. I tried to reach for my boot but he pinned both my hands with one of his, holding me immobile as he searched my pockets, then ran his cold hand slowly down my leg before slipping it into my boot.
“This doesn’t belong to you,” he said, withdrawing the stolen vial of elixir.
“So what,” I spat. “You’re going to arrest me?”
He studied me for a long moment, leaning in closer to sniff my neck.
“Perhaps we could make some kind of deal, if you want these badly enough.”
“I’d rather starve.”
“The thirst causes violence, mania. King Richard is wise to limit it; not only to keep his cattle content, but also powerless. If you’re suffering from the thirst enough to try something so reckless, that means you’ve had more than a small taste of it, yes? Someone has been feeding you more than you’re allowed. Chosen?”
“None of your business,” I said. My heart pounded an erratic rhythm against my ribcage, but at least he didn’t seem to know who I really was.
“Too much of it is dangerous for humans,” Augustine continued. “I wouldn’t be doing you any favors...”
“It’s not for me,” I said.
His eyes widened at this, studying me with cool detachment.
“For some reason, thief, I believe you.”
“So what now, you’re going to turn me in? I’ll be executed you know.”
“I don’t bow to your king,” he smirked. Now it was my turn to be surprised. He let go of my wrists, but I made no move to run. I knew he could catch me in an instant.
My chest heaved against the confines of my lung-squeezing dress. I rubbed my arms, feeling cold and exposed.
What did he mean, he didn’t bow to Richard? I knew there were elite that didn’t live in the citadel, and I’d even heard that some of the elite might conspire to dethrone him, but were there elite out there, who didn’t even recognize his rule? Other kingdoms? I had a feeling he meant something else. If not Richard, who did he bow to?
He grabbed my hand quickly, turning it over and studying the red markings, tracing his long fingers of the jagged patterns.
Then he placed both vials of elixir in my palm and folded my hand closed gently.
“Take your prize,” he said. “Be careful getting back. Thank you for an unexpectedly exciting evening. It’s so rare, and the decades do get a bit predictable after a while.”
“Wait – what do you want?” I asked, before he could disappear into the shadows.
“At the moment, Emily Sharrow, you have absolutely nothing I want. But I have a feeling that may change in the future. Call it curiosity, at this point. But remember me, perhaps we’ll meet again in the future.”
I was halfway back to Penelope’s apartment when I saw the lanterns. White paper orbs in the shape of puffer fish, lifted by the heat of flickering candles, filled the air, drifting in the wind like dandelion seeds.
Trevor met me outside the door, his relief morphing into anger the moment he saw I was okay.
“The guards are swarming the city,” he said. “What did you do?”
“What I had to,” I said, holding out the vials of elixir. I pushed past him into the apartment, heading down the hall to our shared room. Camina was sitting near Jazmine on the bed, wiping her brow with a wet cloth.
The wound on her leg was swollen and red, and still oozing green pus. Penelope’s blood hadn’t been enough to burn off the poison completely. Her eyes lit up when she saw the vials.
The others watched as I lifted my hand, carefully tilting several drops of the sparkling blue liquid into her mouth.
Almost instantly, her eyes cleared. She sat back against the pillows, and took a deep breath. A minute later, the swelling and redness faded. Five minutes, and the wounds had begun to close.
That’s when the guards started pounding on the door. We heard them swing open and her mother call loudly, “they’re upstairs.”
I froze when the door opened, but it was Penelope’s father. He locked the door behind him and crossed the room quickly, pulling a rope ladder out of a drawer and tying it quickly around the balcony.
“I’m sorry,” her father said. “Your mother alerted the guards; they’ve lit the beacons. When King Richard sees them, he’ll send troops. You must go now.”
“What about you?” Penelope asked her father.
“We’ll be fine. But you must leave. Stay safe daughter. It would be better not to return.”
19
The rope ladder dropped us on the south side of the city gates, amidst a group of tall boulders and not far from the woods.
Trevor and Luke led the way through the darkness. They’d spoken to a few of the traders at the market and, after consulting the map, had a reasonably clear idea how to get to Sezomp, though we had to stay off the main trails. We hadn’t had time to change, but grabbed our gear and bundles.
We pushed on until nearly dawn, then took shelter under a thicket of thick brambles several miles inland. I hated to leave the dress behind, wishing I could give it to Amber in Algrave, but Luke said it was too impractical to carry with us, and I didn’t know when I’d get the chance to wear it again anyway.
We bundled the extra change of clothes behind a large rock, in case we ever passed this way again, and changed back into our dark travel clothes, before helping fix each other’s masks, sealing them tight to block out the ash.
We were still rationing elixir, and had been taking turns feeding Penelope, but it was a tricky balance. We all needed our strength, and if we were found by Richard’s guards or a pack of slagpaw, we’d barely have enough energy to run, let alone fight. We moved slowly, ducking for cover at the slightest sound.
I couldn’t imagine how Penelope must be feeling. Being chosen, then five years of luxury in the capital, and now – this. Tromping through the mud, a resurrected, exiled criminal. But it had been her choice, at least. She’d joined the rebels, for whatever reason. She had to know the risks.
But Jazmine and Camina would still be
in the citadel, if they hadn’t helped me escape. They’d been trained to defend the elites, not kill them. Fought for the privilege and honor of being chosen. And it had all been taken away in an instant. Because of me.
Luke had grown up in Havoc, which was now destroyed and empty. And it wasn’t just us, I realized: hundreds of other survivors were out there as well, fighting for their lives, some for the first time. It was hard not to feel some responsibility.
All I’d wanted to do was protect my family, now my mother was dead and my siblings were being held captive by King Richard in the citadel.
Part of me wanted to throw in with the rebels, gather bombs, burst through the doors and burn everything down. But I knew now, after seeing my mother’s glassy eyes in the dirt, it only took a second to have everything you loved ripped away, and the elite were fast. Too fast to stop. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone else. I couldn’t.
We reached Sezomp by the third day. We were tired, but uninjured, which I knew better than to take for granted. We’d been forced to escape from Crollust without the weapons that had been seized at the gate. The guns were pretty useless anyway, and we had a few daggers and knives between us, but no real weapons.
The landscape had changed, instead of thick pines, we trudged through forests of white alder, their knotty trunks rising out of muddy marshlands. The thin canopy of leaves had been burned away, leaving the reaching branches charred and blackened, and the air thick with ash. Even with my hood up and the mask hot around my mouth, visibility was poor. And after hours of walking through mud, my legs felt stiff and heavy. Finally we came across a series of wooden pathways, weaving a path through the trees.
“Are we really sure we want to enter another compound?” Luke complained. “Things didn’t exactly go very well last time.”
“Yeah and things went so much better out in the woods alone,” Jazmine said, gesturing towards her leg. The wound was practically healed now, other than the row of curving scars down her calf, like a paper doll someone had tried to sew back together.