Dreadmyre

by J A Raikes

  Near the sitting area was a large fireplace which had clearly seen some use recently, as soot and dirt lined both the fireplace and the hearth surrounding it. Other than that, the room was fairly barren. I tried to sit up, but just as before, shooting pains ripped through my back.

  I glanced down and saw myself bandaged from my neck all the way down my chest. Someone had dressed me in light robe and the blankets covered everything else. I could only assume that I was probably wrapped head to toe based on what Giles said the other day. My muscles ached and I had no desire to repeat that explosion of pain, so I just simply lay there, staring at the empty room, wishing that I could just go back home.

  Since I was in no position to move around, it gave me a chance to think. I had no idea how long it had been since I was dropped into this strange place and I had no idea how to get back. I don't know what happened to open that portal and I definitely do not know why on earth it kept happening. I felt heat rising to my face with the thought of never seeing my home again, let alone never walking again.

  It wasn’t going to do me any good to have a full blown panic attack, so I worked on slowing my breathing and trying to figure out the next steps. First things first, I needed to figure out where I was. Once I figured that out, then perhaps I could find someone who knew something about how those portals work and perhaps they would help me figure out a way back home. It seems to me that if I could fall through a freaky portal then I’m probably not the only one, right? No one is that special.

  My thoughts were interrupted as the large door on the opposite end of the room opened with a click and a thud. A small woman with brown curly hair that fell to her shoulders came bustling into the room with a tray in her hands. She was slightly overweight, wearing a brown and white dress covered by a lace trimmed apron and she seemed a bit clumsy. Plates and silverware clinked and rattled on the tray as she struggled to open the door, trying not to spill what she was carrying. She looked up from the tray to where I was lying and her eyes lit up. Seeing that I was awake, she hurried towards the bed and a grin pulled at the edges of her cheeks.

  “Oh mister Finn, I’m so glad to see you are awake!” she said as she made her way across the massive room.

  “My name is Gladys Weatherby and I work here for Dr. Fleming. He had you moved here to the guest quarters when you didn’t wake up for any food. He said your skin was still very fragile, but seemed to be taking to the sutures and he thought it was safe to move you. I hope that is alright.”

  She bustled over to the bedside and set down the tray filled with different bowls of soup and a few small loaves of bread with small dishes of jellies and spreads to go with them.

  “Is there anything that you need or desire, young man? It’s my job to make sure that any of Dr. Fleming's guests are taken care of.” Her voice was bubbly and laced with a slight British accent, but had that weathered tone that comes with age.

  “Uhh, no, I think I’m okay for now.” My throat was dry and the words came out coarse and chopped. I had to swallow several times to get through the entire sentence.

  “Very well, my dear. But just so you know, if you need anything, you can get ahold of me on the Messorium.” She smiled and turned to walk away.

  “Wait,” I said quickly. She turned and arched an eyebrow in my direction.

  “What’s a Messorium?” I asked sheepishly.

  Her mouth opened slightly and I could see she was surprised by the question. Her eyebrows furled and unfurled as she processed the thought.

  “Ah, yes, well Mr. Fleming did say you might have some memory loss.” She brushed her hands across the front of her apron to smooth out the wrinkles, an action that seemed more like a thinking mannerism than a necessary one and continued.

  “The Messorium is that little device there on the table there,” she stated, pointing to the nightstand next to the bed. Sure enough, a small metal box that looked like a smartphone without a screen sat idly against the base of a lamp, just like what I had seen in the warehouse earlier.

  “It serves as our primary communication device. It enables one to communicate across long distances. Most people use it for speaking, but it can also be used to send written messages as well.”

  It was my turn to arch an eyebrow. “So a cell phone, then?”

  Gladys cocked her head to the side and gave me an entirely puzzled look.

  “I’m sorry? I’m not familiar…” her voice trailed off and she shook her head and resumed her previous smiling, cheerful look.

  “Anyway, just press on the green button, let the monitor know who you would like to speak to and you’ll be ahold of me in no time. You can also reach Dr. Fleming this way as well, or anyone else you may like to contact if you have family or friends who might be missing you right now. They would be welcome to come by and see you.”

  She smiled and turned once again to leave.

  I interjected again, “Do you know how long it has been since my accident?”

  Without missing a beat, Gladys turned deliberately on a heel to face me.

  “Thirteen days, young man.” Every word was dramatically emphasized and her eyes were wide. She was clearly shaken by the thought.

  “Thirteen days?!” I blurted out.

  “If it weren’t for the fact that you were still breathing, I would’ve thought you dead!” she exclaimed, her eyebrows rising high on her forehead. “Oh mister Finn, I don’t know you, really. But a young man with his life ahead of him broken into little pieces and put back together again? I’m heartbroken for you!”

  She ran her hands over her apron again.

  “And then,” she continued dramatically as if she was the one who was actually injured, “I was worried you had lapsed into some sort of coma. I kept coming in with food and making sure you were at least comfortable, but even when we moved you in here, you didn’t stir one bit!”

  Her features rumpled and she grabbed the edges of her apron.

  “I just…” she stammered as she drew a hand up to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes.

  I interrupted and gave her the best smile I could muster.

  “Well, I don’t think I did. And thank you for taking such good care of me. I don’t deserve your hospitality. Or your help, for that matter. Like you said, you don’t even know me.”

  It took her a moment to compose herself, but she let go of her apron, smoothing it out once more and smiled back. “Young man, we may not be like the rest of Emberwall, but a person in need is always welcome here. And you are certainly in need.”

  I didn’t want to make her any more worked up than she already was so I refrained from asking her any more questions, even though each time she spoke, more and more questions flooded my mind.

  She took a deep breath and let out a satisfied huff. “Well, then. Do you need any help to eat this afternoon?”

  I tried lifting an arm and found it unpleasant, but not unbearable. It’d apparently been nearly two weeks since I’d moved my joints so I wanted to give them a little exercise.

  “I’ll try and manage. If I need help, you’ll be the first to know,” I said, smiling gratefully.

  “Enjoy the soup, then, and let me know if you have any other needs,” Gladys said as she walked back across the room and shut the door behind her.

  As soon as she left, I let out a sigh. This place seemed so normal on the outside, the little bits I’ve had a chance to see, yet every time I spoke to someone, it got more and more bizarre. Who doesn’t know what a cell phone is? And what is Emberwall? What is an Aesthesium surgeon? And how did he fix my back and side? That kind of reconstruction should have been impossible and yet here I sit, and as long as I don’t really move that much, I’m not in any real pain. Heck, the fact that I can move is a downright miracle. None of this should even be possible.

  Thankfully, the food looks normal. The bedroom is extravagant, but it’s decently normal. The people seem normal, although Gladys’ getup looked a bit archaic. She looked more like a nursemaid from the 1800s than
a personal assistant or aide to a physician.

  Lost in my thoughts, a loud growling, squealing sound jolted me back to reality. Glancing down, I realized my stomach made that awful noise. If I really hadn’t eaten for thirteen days, I’m pretty certain I should be dead. Or at least unable to move. Maybe I had been hooked up to some kind of IV tap or something. Anyway, I slowly and gingerly reached over to the tray that Gladys had left at my bedside and tried some soup.

  Perhaps it was the fact that I was literally starving, but I can tell you here and now - that was the best soup I’ve ever had in my life. It was savory and creamy and hearty all at the same time. I couldn’t even tell you what was in it, but each spoonful, as slow and painful as it was to move my arm, was a welcome sip of warm heaven.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I enjoyed my soup in silence until a quiet knock thumped at the door.

  “Come in!” I called out across the obnoxiously large room while I slurped down the last of the soup, tilting the bowl to my mouth with my good hand.

  The door cracked open once more and a young lady popped her head in. It was genuinely hard to make out any distinguishing features of anyone from that distance, but what struck me first was her alarmingly bright red hair.

  “I heard you were awake and I wanted to come to say hello,” she said as she slipped in the doorway and shut the door behind her.

  “Hello,” I said, looking over the bowl at my mouth. At once, I had to catch my breath. The young lady moved with deliberate confidence as she closed the distance from the door to my bed. She was slender, but not weak. She was maybe 21 years old and had red hair that gently curled and flowed down to the middle of her back. She wore a dark green jacket with toggles across the front that parted at her waist and flowed out behind her as she walked. Her pants were a dark brown and she wore several belts around her waist. Several tools rest at her hips but I couldn’t tell what they were or what they did.

  She quickly made her way across the room. As she did, it dawned on me that I was staring at her and took a moment to compose myself.

  “My name is Eva.”

  “Hello,” I repeated, still holding the bowl to my mouth.

  Yep. I’m a real charmer. Nice going, Finn.

  “Your name is Finn, right?” She sat down on a chair nearby to the bed and leaned toward me.

  She didn’t come across nearly as formal as Gladys had shortly before and while she also seemed to have an accent, it wasn’t as defined or astute sounding as Gladys or Giles.

  “Mmhmm, yeah that's right,” I said as I lowered the bowl and set it on the tray next to me. “You’re the one who saved me, right?”

  “Well, I was the one who saw you falling, but Trent, Harris, and Lucky were the ones who stopped you from smashing into the ground,” she said, adjusting her tools as she got comfortable.

  “Well, thank you,” I said, trying to sound as genuine as I could. “Seriously, thank you. I feel horrible and can’t move most of my body without pain shooting throughout my entire core, but I would be, ya know, dead if it weren’t for you and your friends.”

  Eva sat back and folded her arms across her chest and her expression was flat.

  Uhh. So, maybe I should work on that. Sarcasm probably wasn’t the best way to express my appreciation.

  “Yeah. You’re right. You would be dead,” she shot back, her tone colder than before. “And my dad spent the last two weeks making sure that you can even open that mouth of yours, so you should be grateful.”

  If I was physically capable of shying away, I would have been cowering. I changed tactics.

  “Uh. No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out the way it did. I really am grateful and I really do appreciate all that you and your family have done for me. I don’t deserve your kindness, let alone your dad’s giving of time and skills for me.”

  Eva relaxed a bit and ran a hand through her hair, glancing down at the ends as her hand mindlessly messed with one of her curls.

  “Yeah. Well, you’re welcome,” she said quietly.

  “Let me try again,” I said, straightening up in bed as best I could without wincing in pain.

  “Hi. My name is Finn. I’m from Tucson. Thank you so much for your kindness and hospitality.” I smiled and gingerly stuck out a hand.

  A few beats passed before she rolled her eyes, sighed and shook my hand. There was an awkward pause afterward and we just sat there in silence.

  Finally, she cleared her throat and asked, “So, uh. How did you get up there, anyway? I mean, in the sky, earlier. When I saw you fall. It’s like you just appeared there.”

  “I have no idea,” I replied frankly. “I don’t really remember the last few weeks, but that day is burned into my brain.”

  I told her the story of what had happened to me, best as I was able to recall. As I spoke, she leaned forward, her head resting on her hand, her legs crossed and her eyes locked on me.

  Periodically, she interrupted and asked questions.

  “What Ward is Tucson in? I haven’t heard of it before. It must be near the mountain if you were hiking.”

  “Well, it’s near the Catalina mountain range, but it’s nowhere near this city. I don’t even know where we are. Tucson is in Arizona. It’s a desert, but, ya know, at least ‘it’s a dry heat’,” I said, waiting for the obligatory chuckle that usually follows that phrase. Eva’s expression remained blank, so I shook my head and continued on with my story.

  A few minutes later, she interrupted again, “Wait, so you were attacked by a beast? That isn’t even possible! There hasn’t been a sighting of any sort of creature like that in generations!”

  “Well, I doubt that,” I replied. “People see them all the time. But you try to stay away from them for obvious reasons.”

  Her eyes grew wide with excitement. “Wow, well I need to get out more!”

  “Perhaps, but don’t go looking for a mountain lion. They’ll just tear you to shreds.”

  I continued my story, telling of the portal to that weird warehouse factory with Mr. Klein and Reggie.

  “Wait,” she interjected, leaning even further forward in her chair while clapping her hands down on her knees. “Do you mean to tell me you were in Blackfort?!”

  “Uhh, no? Yes? I don’t know what that is…” I replied.

  “Blackfort?” she said again, gesturing up in the air with her hands with all sort of shapes supposedly to help me guess whatever she was talking about.

  “You know, the top defense center in the entire city? They occupy 4 levels of the Netherward and literally no one is allowed over there unless you work for the Hand,” she said incredulously, as if this was just casual knowledge.

  “Ohhhhhkaayyy, then sure. Yeah. That’s where I was...” I shrugged as best I was able. I continued, describing the outfit Reggie was wearing and her eyes lit up again.

  “That sounds like the private security teams from Netherward all right.”

  I nodded along, but even as she spoke, questions were already bouncing into my mind and I was hungry for answers.

  “Tell you what, let me finish and then maybe I can ask you some questions, if thats ok?”

  “Yeah, sure!” She was clearly excited by the entire story and had shifted to sit cross legged on the chair, as close to the edge of the bed as possible, her knee next to the tray of empty dishes.

  I explained the purge sequence and then falling through the air above the city.

  “By the Ember,” she breathed out excitedly. “You mean to tell me that you opened not two Lusynos portals, snuck into the most fortified defense system in the city and you didn’t even know what you were doing?!”

  “Uh, I guess so?” I said, still completely confused as to what was going on.

  Do you ever have those moments when someone is way more excited about something than you and you just don’t get it? That was me right now. To Eve, I had clearly accomplished some sort of amazing feat but I had no idea how or why.

  “I just want to kno
w how to reverse it and go home, honestly,” I said.

  I think she missed what I said because she grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly, her eyes alight and a smile pulling at the furthest edges of her cheeks. I got the feeling that she could barely contain herself right now.

  “This is amazing,” she nearly squealed. “You’re a Lusynosian! There hasn’t been a natural born Lusynosian in generations!”

  “A what?” I replied, confusion etching my face.

  “A Lusynosian,” she replied more emphatically, like that was somehow going to help me understand it better.

  “No, no, I heard that. But what is that?”

  “You can’t be serious,” she said, her expression changing slightly and she seemed disappointed that I had asked the question.

  We seemed to have some rapport growing and I didn’t want my ignorance to stifle the conversation. I needed her to help me understand what was going on here and why on earth I had ended up in this strange place so I pressed onward through her hesitation.

  “Okay, hang on to that thought, Eva. I think I need to work through a few questions before you write me off as some total crazy guy who apparently lives in a box.”

  She nodded slightly, squeezed my hand gently and then returned hers to her lap and replied, “Okay, I think that’s a good idea.”

  “Let’s begin with the assumption that I’m not from here,” I offered.

  “But if…,” she started, but I continued, ignoring her protests.

  “Because to be truthful, I don’t have any idea about anything you, your dad or anyone has been talking about. Emberwall, Blackfort, Lusynos? I don’t know what those are. And your dad said he was some kind of ‘Aesthesium’ surgeon? What is that? Obviously it’s like some sort of bioengineer but I’ve been in school for a while and never once heard of something like that.”