Where Foundlings Hide

by KL Mitchelson

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “What?” My head whips around to Caleb. “Did you know about this?”

  He mirrors my shock with an astonished expression of his own “No, I never thought for a second…. are you sure?” Caleb regards Parker with a look of disbelief.

  “The test was conclusive.” She repeats.

  I touch my fingers to my temples in an effort to stop the room from spinning. “So…one of my parents was Displacian?”

  “Yes,” Roma says. “And we can’t trust anyone else with this information, not even my bodyguards. A half human, half Displacian is considered a dangerous thing.”

  “Roma, please,” Ivy steps forward, her face twisted in anguish. “She doesn’t need to-”

  “She has to know, Ivy.” Roma says firmly. She turns to me and her expression softens. “We don’t believe that a human mind can cope with having our abilities, it’s too fragile, it could shatter like glass.”

  “But I’m fine.” I start to back away from them.

  “Human and Displacian DNA are not thought to be compatible,” Parker says quietly. “You shouldn’t even….”

  “I shouldn’t even exist, right?” My hands start to tremble. “Then how is this possible?”

  “It just is,” Parker says. “You’re biologically both human and Displacian. As far as we know, you are the first of your kind. Previous attempts to combine human and Displacian DNA-”

  “Parker.” Roma holds up a warning hand.

  I swallow reflexively, my mouth dry. “I know about Ezra’s experiments.”

  “How do you know?” Roma says sharply.

  “I found a book in the library; it said that he was experimenting on humans, something about stem cells.”

  “Those books are well hidden.” Roma looks sharply at Caleb. He stares resolutely back, and I know that he is cloaking his thoughts.

  I realise now why Caleb’s clue was so cryptic, telling me directly where to find the books would’ve been difficult to hide from Roma.

  “Well they weren’t hidden well,” I say. “I found them under the floorboards in some kind of underground room.” I thrust the book still clutched in my hands towards Roma. She takes it from me carefully, as though it might suddenly explode.

  “That was Ezra’s private study,” Ivy says, her eyes suddenly teary. “All books that even so much as mention his name are banned in Displacia now. We keep everything locked away down there.”

  “You won’t go down there again,” Roma says, her eyes on the book gripped tightly in her trembling hands. “Ezra was a dangerous man, but he was once just a boy, he was our brother.”

  Parker clears her throat. “Ezra’s laboratories were shut down before you were born, Casey, and he was experimenting on adults, not children. Your birth was likely the result of a union between a human and a Displacian.”

  “So what’s going to happen to me?”

  “Your mind could eventually deteriorate.” Roma says quietly.

  My breathing starts to come out ragged. “You mean…I could go mad?”

  “We don’t know that for certain,” Parker says. “There may be ways to slow it down, even prevent it from happening at all, but it won’t be easy.”

  “Parker may be able to develop a formula that would help your body to accept its part-Displacian origins,” Roma explains, her knuckles white from gripping the edge of the book. “Parker is going to Earth to find out more about your birth. It might help her develop the treatment.”

  “I’m going too,” Ivy says. “I adopted you from an orphanage in London, so we’re going to start there. I need you to stay here with Roma, she’ll take care of you.”

  “You’re going to find my parents?” I ask, my heartbeat quickening.

  Ivy nods. “We’re going to try. The records held at the orphanage might lead us to your mother.”

  “My mother?” An image of a woman who looks just like me flashes through my mind.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Roma says. “I need you to focus. Parker wants you to start training, prepare your body for the treatment.”

  “What kind of training?”

  “The same training we put the Foundlings through. You’re already demonstrating some abilities; you might have more locked away. If we can trick your body into thinking it’s Displacian, it could buy us some time.”

  I look down at my hands. “I could have more abilities?”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Parker says. “I couldn’t find a trace of Foundling DNA in your bloodwork, but it’s often difficult to locate, even in pure-born Displacian’s.”

  “Your ability to feel the emotions of others is not a common Displacian trait,” Roma says. “But self-healing is. We can’t be certain that you have any more powers, but I think it’s a good idea to find out.”

  “OK,” I nod, my heart still beating furiously at the thought of finding my parents. “When do I start?”

  “As soon as possible,” Roma says. “I’ve sent a message to the other leaders asking them for help in developing your skills, excluding Morox of course.” She turns towards the window, frowning a little. “We don’t need you to grow gills just yet.”

  “What will you tell them?”

  They don’t need to know the truth; they can continue believing that you’re one of the Foundling children.”

  I nod resolutely. “OK.”

  “This isn’t what I wanted for you,” Ivy says. “You’re not an experiment, Casey. I won’t have them treating you like one.”

  Roma sighs indignantly. “It won’t be-”

  “It’s fine,” I say firmly. “I want to do this.”

  Ivy nods, but she doesn’t meet my eyes. “Right then, we need to get ready.” She gestures towards Parker, who gives me a reassuring smile before following Ivy from the fountain room.

  “Don’t worry about Ivy,” Roma says. “She’s very protective of you, but she knows this is for the best.”

  I try to appear unconcerned by Ivy’s cool behaviour, but when she and Parker return dressed in royal-blue suits made from a kind of leathery fabric, I rush to her. “How long will you be gone for?”

  She shrugs a small rucksack onto her back and sweeps her blonde hair up into a knot on the top of her head. “However long it takes.”

  “And these are the compression suits?” I ask, pinching the tight cuff of Ivy’s sleeve.

  “They stop us feeling the effects of the portal.” She doesn’t look at me as she pulls a stiff hood over her head.

  “Ivy, please don’t leave like this.”

  She meets my gaze then, and her expression softens. “Listen to Roma, she’ll do everything she can to help you.” She pulls me into a long hug.

  “I’ll look after her, Ivy.” Roma places a hand on my shoulder, her touch radiating with honesty.

  Ivy smiles at her sister and then she joins Parker on the ledge of the fountain. The water inside starts to churn. They give a brief wave before stepping purposefully into the water like deep-sea divers, sending a flume of water over the edge.

  I keep my eyes on the fountain until the water stills.

  “Just clear your mind,” Roma says. “Concentrate on the object, and then imagine a force reaching out from behind your eyes.”

  I stare at the glass bottle in front of me, my face screwed up with concentration. I clench my fists, tensing my whole body as I will the bottle to fall down, but nothing happens.

  Caleb snorts behind me and I turn to glare at him.

  “That’s not helpful, Caleb.” Roma says, wearily.

  We’ve been here ages, gathered at a table in the empty banquet room as one by one, the rest of the Household retired to their homes. Some stayed to watch for a while, believing that I was trying to uncover my Foundling powers, but they had grown tired and made their excuses, their faces etched with sympathy as they left.

  It’s been two days since Ivy and Parker went to Earth, and we’ve heard nothing from them. Roma has tri
ed to keep me busy with telekinesis, but so far, I haven’t been able to pick it up.

  “I can’t do it.” I say, throwing my hands up.

  “You need to keep trying,” Roma says. “It’s important that you learn this.”

  I rub my eyes with the heel of my hand. “My head hurts, I need to sleep.”

  Roma opens her mouth to protest, just as the sound of heavy footsteps approaches. Esther, Cain and Hamish hasten towards the doors to the banquet room, and, with Roma distracted, I sink into the nearest chair, exhausted.

  Nicholas, Haydn and around fifteen other Smith’s march into the banquet room, Roma’s bodyguards stepping back to allow them entry. The Smith’s tip their heads respectfully towards Roma.

  “I’ve stationed twenty of my soldiers around the perimeter and four at the gate,” Nicholas reports. “The rest are awaiting your command. If the Morgana’s come back, we’ll be ready for them.”

  “Thank you, Nicholas,” Roma says. “But I don’t think Morox would dare order another attack. He’s just retaliating because of what I did to him at the council.”

  “Nevertheless, I would feel better if you would permit two soldiers to guard the fountain room,” Nicholas says. “And another two to patrol the corridors of the main building.”

  Roma nods. “Whatever you think is best.”

  “What I think is best is bringing Morox in.”

  Roma shakes her head. “I’ve already advised the Emperor against it, I won’t risk another inter-household war. The Emperor has delayed the next council meeting, that should give Morox time to cool off.”

  “As you wish,” Nicholas says. “I’ll station the rest of my men around the grounds and Acacia will have a guard of her own outside of her room.”

  My head whips from Nicholas to Roma. “I don’t think-”

  “It’s just a precaution,” she says. “If Nicholas thinks you need a soldier to guard your door then so be it.”

  “Haydn will take position outside of Casey’s room, he’s my best soldier.” Nicholas says.

  Haydn’s eyes find mine, but he looks swiftly away and I see the muscles in his jaw clench. He addresses the soldiers behind him, ordering them to their posts. They turn wordlessly on their heels and march from the room.

  “Would you like to join us for drinks,” Roma gestures for Nicholas and Haydn to sit. “We are just in the middle of testing Acacia’s abilities.”

  Nicholas eyes widen with interest. “Yes, if we may we observe?”

  “There isn’t much to see.” Caleb laughs.

  Roma silences him with a stare. “Acacia?”

  With a heavy sigh I stand and focus once again on the bottle, conscious of everyone looking at me, of Haydn looking at me. Nothing happens. “I told you, I can’t do it.” My face burns with embarrassment.

  “Acacia is just having some problems with her abilities,” Roma says. “She’s spent so long on Earth.”

  Nicholas gives me a look filled with pity and Haydn regards me with what I can only assume is contempt. I can’t bear it.

  Without thinking, I snatch up a knife from the table and I drag it across my palm, gritting my teeth to stop myself from crying out as the deep welt blooms red.

  Nicholas jumps up from his seat as the blood runs over my wrist and down my forearm. “Princess-” he starts around the table towards me, but I wipe my hand on my dress and hold up my palm to show him the wound, the skin already knitting neatly back together.

  He looks stunned for a moment and then laughter bursts from his lips. “You can self-heal.”

  “Of course I can, I’m a Foundling.” I say, looking pointedly at Caleb.

  Nicholas claps his gloved hands together. “It looks like she may have some abilities after all.”

  “Dramatic,” Caleb smirks. “And I thought you didn’t like all of the attention.”

  I pull a face at him, suddenly incensed. “You think that because I’ve spent my life on Earth I must be weak,” I say. “Well I’m not. Maybe I can’t do all of the things that you can, but I do have some abilities.”

  Roma narrows her eyes at me in warning. “No one thinks you’re weak, Acacia. Now, enough of the parlour tricks, you need rest.”

  “Fine.” I turn on my heel and stomp out of the banquet room.

  Footsteps follow me out into the corridor and I turn, expecting to find Caleb, but it’s Haydn. He falters when he sees me waiting, but he says nothing, so I continue up the stairs feeling irritated and exhausted.

  Once I am in my quarters, I pluck the crown from my head and toss it across the room to its usual place on the floor in the corner. I head to the bathroom to run a hot bath, and as the tub fills up, I sit down on the edge to examine the smooth skin of my hand. The wound has completely disappeared, the only hint that it was ever there is a thin, pink line and the red stain of my blood. I feel foolish for making a show of myself, especially in front of Haydn, but I’ve had it with being treated like a delicate flower in need of protection. Parker said I’m half-Displacian, and that means I’m stronger than they thought.

  I shed my clothes and slide into the tub while the water’s still running. When it’s finally deep enough, I sink right down to the bottom so that my face is submerged and all I can hear is the ripple of the water. I close my eyes savouring the quietness.

  When the water starts to cool, I haul myself from the bathroom; I pull on a cotton nightshirt before climbing into bed with my hair still wet. It doesn’t take long for a deep, exhausted sleep to claim me.

  Lana holds a long, sharp dagger that glints in the light of the moon. She drags it over her palm, holding out her hand to show me the wound that heals of its own accord. She laughs and I laugh with her, but then her smile fades and she raises the knife to her throat.

  “No.”

  I reach out to her, but I am blasted back off my feet by an invisible force. Lana holds out a strand of her hair and cuts it off with the dagger. She continues to hack away, the blonde locks pooling around her feet. I start towards her, but I find my way blocked by a glass wall. I hammer my fists against it, screaming her name until my throat is raw.

  I wake with a start, the sound of the dagger slicing through Lana’s hair still fresh in my mind. Only it’s not in mind, it’s not just a lingering dream; the sound is coming from the balcony, a scratching, scuffling sound that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

  I swing my legs out of bed, my heart beating furiously. I tiptoe over to the glass doors and pause with my fingers on the handle, peering out at the shadowy balcony. I take a breath and I step outside. The scuffling sound stops abruptly.

  I blink until my eyes adjust to the darkness, but I see nothing except the shadows of the nearby trees, the branches stretching towards me like gnarled fingers.

  I take another deep breath, savouring the fresh air and the feeling of the breeze as it lifts the ends of my still-damp hair.

  With a slight shiver, I turn to head back inside and that’s when I see it - a dark figure clambering over the side of the balcony. A scream catches in my throat as the scorched, skeletal form of the Khuulsu heaves itself over the railings and lands on the tiled floor with a thud.

  Another pair of bony hands appears, followed by another, their gaunt faces trained on me, and this time the scream escapes my lips, piercing the quiet night air and echoing around the grounds.

  They start in my direction, rags hanging from their emaciated, blackened bones. I try to run, but my legs give out beneath me and I fall to my knees. I hear voices and the splinter of wood coming from inside, but I can’t move, I can’t even call out.

  Skeletal fingers close around my throat, and I claw at the rotted hands, choking under the Khuulsu’s grip.

  There is more thumping from inside, followed by hurried footsteps, then someone slams into the creature. It releases me and I slump to the floor gasping for air. I try to push myself up in the midst of all of the commotion, but my body feels like lead, my limbs refusing t
o obey me when I tell them to move.

  I watch helplessly as Smith’s and Vedmak’s rush the balcony, forming a protective barrier around me and forcing the creatures back.

  The Khuulsu don’t even try to fight. Outnumbered, they retreat, leaping over the railings and disappearing into the night with Vedmak’s and Smith’s on their tails.

  A shadow falls over me and gentle hands lift my face, my skin tingling under the pads of his fingers. Haydn. I expect him to say something cutting, but instead, he scoops me up effortlessly. “You’re OK.” He whispers.

  My skin feels like it’s on fire where he is touching me, my skull about to burst, but I feel safe in his arms as he carries me inside.

  Caleb appears in the doorway of my bedroom, his eyes narrowing as Haydn sets me down gently on the bed.

  Roma pushes past Caleb, her face etched with worry. “Are you OK?”

  I nod carefully, the motion sending a shooting pain through my neck.

  Haydn carefully traces my skin where the Khuulsu grabbed me. "They tried to strangle her."

  He directs the statement to Roma and her face pales. "That's not their way. They incapacitate their victims; they don’t strangle them."

  “I think they tried to incapacitate her,” Haydn says, his brow furrowed. “But she managed to fight it, to a degree. Strangling her would make her lose consciousness, make it easier to take her. I got to her just in time.”

  I raise a hand to my throat, but the pain is already subsiding. “Thank you.” My voice is still hoarse, almost a whisper.

  His eyes are like burning liquid, a dark oil framed with thick lashes. He watches me for what feels like an eternity, and then he turns to Roma. “I’ll station soldiers on the balcony.” He takes one last look at me, then he stalks out of the room.

  “Are you sure you’re OK?” Roma strokes my hair, her face ashen. It takes me by surprise.

  “I’ll be fine.” I try to smile reassuringly, but my heart is hammering furiously in my chest.

  “I can stay with you tonight.” Caleb offers.

  “I don’t think so, Caleb.” Roma says.

  “I’ll sleep in the lounge,” he says hurriedly. “Someone should stay with her,” his eyes flick to the Smith soldiers patrolling the balcony. “Someone she knows.”

  “Very well,” Roma sighs. “But only if Casey agrees.”

  “I want him to stay.” I hate to admit it, but I’m afraid. I can still feel the Khuulsu’s pincer-like fingers around my throat and the thought of being alone makes my blood run cold.

  When Roma leaves, Caleb takes a pillow from the bed and a blanket from the closet. I watch the soldiers outside, their forms casting long shadows through the balcony doors. My hands start to tremble. “Caleb, will you stay?”

  He pauses in the doorway. “I said I would, I’ll be right next door.”

  “No, I need you to stay in here.”

  Caleb’s eyes widen and for a moment, I think he’ll say no, but then he nods. “OK.”

  He kicks off his shoes and pulls off his shirt, giving me a good look at his toned torso.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” I say, as he flops down beside me. “I just don’t want to be alone.” I reluctantly turn off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

  “I’m here.” Caleb says, squeezing my hand and sending a brief feeling of hope shooting up my arm.

  Guiltily, I close my eyes, trying not to think about Haydn.