Renegade: A Young Adult Dystopian

by Mallory McCartney

  Collapsing, he mentally whispered, “Are you okay?”

  Snapping his maws, Brokk curtly nodded his giant head once, conveying he was. Quickly, Memphis climbed onto his back, and they were off. Brokk’s legs wobbled as they flew over the woven trees, Nei galloping ahead of them. They were falling behind. Snarling, they crashed through Nei’s magic, the trees responded fiercely. It was like fighting against an hourglass—if the sand ran out before they covered ground, they would be at the mercy of the darkness and the monsters that called for their blood. Branches snagged their hair, shredded their skin, as Brokk clambered over and under, weaving powerfully, snapping at trees when they mistook them for the enemy.

  “Nei! Alby!” His voice was hoarse and was instantly lost in the sounds of the fight that surrounded them.

  Brokk snarled and pushed faster, the forest blurring, sounds blurring, and all he could digest was the fierce pounding of his heart. Pleading for survival. Howls erupted behind them as more trees bonded together as a response. A makeshift wall wove before them, another shield. Brokk’s sides heaved as he cut to the left, and he spotted his intention. A small opening just big enough for them to fit through was left as the trees solidified, the ripple quickly spreading through, closing any gaps.

  Brokks footfalls reverberated through him as he watched in horror as the trees became thicker, sharper, preparing for them, to destroy them. Gravity left as they launched forward, aiming for the shrinking gateway between their life and death. Closing his eyes, he waited for the impact. Screams echoed around him, or maybe it was him. He couldn’t tell anymore. Cool air howled, licking at his exposed face, sinking deeper and deeper into his core. There was the sensation of his clothes ripping, talons digging into his calf, sharp and unrelenting. They ripped through his flesh effortlessly. Pain, hot and lancing, shot up through his body and consumed his every thought, every movement, every internal battle, until it was nothing but the fire in his bones.

  Cracking his eyes open, his vision spun, blurring, but he took in enough to realize the ground rushed up to meet them. They collided with such force, he was thrown viciously from Brokk. He was suspended in time for a moment before his back cracked against something hard. The taste of dirt and blood filled his mouth as he wheezed for air. Brokk’s growls ripped through the night as Memphis shakily stood from the mounds of dirt they had churned up. In one motion, Brokk shifted back to his human form. Bruises flowered his skin, dark purple, blue, and green overlapping in a colorful display. Then he was kneeling next to him.

  “Memphis, breathe. We are okay. Just breathe.”

  The howls from the other side of the thick wall of interwoven trees slammed their reality into him, and he lurched forward, croaking, “We have to get out of here. Back to the Academy.”

  “Brokk, Memphis!” Nei galloped through the forest, reigning her mare to a hard stop. Panting, she dropped from the saddle, leaving a stunned Alby in her wake. Her voice was thick as she ran toward them. “We lost sight, and I couldn’t get back, I couldn’t stop what I unleashed.” With wide eyes, she took them in. She snapped, “Brokk, can you still carry him? We have to warn the others.”

  Brokk’s voice was barely above a whisper. “What else is coming for us, Nei?”

  She grabbed his shoulder, growling. “A reckoning.” Ice licked at Memphis’s veins, through his pain, through his nausea. He wanted to claw out the remains of the demons’ whispered voices, of their acclaimed king, of Cesan. Of the promises of their unmaking. He was distantly aware of Brokk shifting back and making himself flush to the ground. Nei’s whispered words were an anchor in the chaos. “Memphis, you have to try and get up.”

  He shifted his weight, clambering for his friend, and the pain almost made him succumb to oblivion. Was that him crying, snarling in frustration? Had he completely unhinged? His weight shifted, and he breathed deeply, Brokk’s fur tickling his nose.

  Nei’s voice cracked. “Whatever you see, don’t stop until we reach the Academy.”

  Brokk heaved a shuddering breath, dipping his head once. And then they were running, leaving the bloodthirsty howls clinging onto the air behind them as they dove deeper into the heart of the woods. And they didn’t stop.

  11

  Adair

  They came to him in his dreams. At first it was beckoning voices, soft and comforting. He groggily smiled, looking around him. Nothing was clear, the colors and shapes blurred into a giant grey mass. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he shrugged. When he stepped forward, the ground rippled like he had dropped a stone into the water. Green hues shimmered below his feet, crisp and sharp against the grey backdrop. Taking another step, the world shifted, exploding before him. The smell of damp grass overcame him, and looking around, he was in another forest, one he didn’t recognize. The trees here were oversized, the leaves a deep purple, casting the illusion that he was in the heart of a gem.

  “Adair.” The hair on the back of his neck stood as the soft voice changed into something he recognized. Turning slowly, the creature was behind him, her head tilted, like a predator watching its prey before it pounced. She stalked up to him, slowly, the leaves turning to scorched earth with each footfall. He couldn’t move. He just watched, his heart lodged in his throat as she came face to face with him, her pale hand resting gently over his heart. Those pitiless eyes pulled him in until he wasn’t sure he was breathing at all. Leaning in, her sharpened teeth clicked lazily as she whispered, “You are so close. You can’t falter now.”

  “Close to what?” His voice was a whisper on his exhale.

  She pressed her hand harder on his chest. “To freedom.”

  He stared in horror as fire erupted from her fingertips. Black flames twisted up and down her arm, until they erupted, consuming him. It was like having his head shoved underwater. He flailed and writhed trying to escape her grasp, but he couldn’t break free. He watched as the inky flames twisted all around him, kissing and caressing his skin, sinking into his pores. Turning his veins black. Choking him, deafening him. He felt liquid burst from his tear ducts, and black tears streamed down his face. His screams echoed through the forest as she giggled, lowering her sharpened teeth toward his throat, making him submit to her will, her dark desires. He clawed at her, but the fire just raged, crawling into his mouth, his eyes, his nose. Suffocating him, as he turned to ash beneath her hold.

  His screams tore from him, jarring him back to reality. Sweat clung to his skin, sticking his clothes to his body beneath his coated jacket. The tinges of dawn bled into the sky, making the forest around them seem innocent as the shadows were chased away. Scrambling back, he clutched his heart, ripping at his clothes, tearing them so he could see, could check, that it had been just a dream. The cool air made his skin prickle as his chest was exposed. His skin was starkly pale, with no trace of inky lines. Sighing, he held his head in his hands, trying to shake the nightmare.

  “I thought you might have died.” Ice shivered down his spine as he snapped his attention to the figure looming over him. Marquis was pale in the morning light, dark shadows lining his piercing eyes. Slowly he lowered himself so he was eye to eye with him. His voice was raw as he said, “A little warning might be welcome next time we go visit a creature of death.”

  Adair raised an eyebrow at the young prince. “I thought you would relish in the life-threatening experience. Also, I did warn you.”

  Marquis grinned wolfishly, extending his hand down to him. He grasped it, welcoming the help as his body protested the movement. Bruises peppered his arms, the dried blood cracking from the old wound. Sighing, he looked at Marquis skeptically. “How did you find me anyways? The Gortach’s lair is almost impossible to pass through.”

  Dusting off his jacket, the Prince of the Shattered Isles said, “It’s hard to say. A horrible, wrenching gut feeling? That the golden room we began in started to turn into itself? It was like I was looking through a mirror once I found the crack, and I stepped into it, it was a portal straight to you.”

 
; Dusting himself off slowly, Adair murmured, “And a good thing at that. Bleeding dark magic.” Marquis lightly coughed under his breath, arching an eyebrow at him in anticipation.

  “Yes, thank you for saving my life, oh noble prince.”

  Chortling, he clapped his back. “That’s more like it. Anyways, did you find what you were looking for down there?”

  Popping his collar up, he shivered against the misty morning. He looked around at the empty forest and absentmindedly brushed his chest. He could still feel the echoes of those black flames, burning him, his core, running through his veins. “In a way.” He started walking, his boots thudding wetly against the ground.

  Marquis was right beside him chomping at the bit. “I just saved your life and you decide now is the time to be cryptic?”

  Adair tiredly rubbed his eyes. “What, so you can report back to your father what I’m up to?”

  Marquis squared his shoulders. “No. Because we just visited a hidden realm where creatures of ancient myths do exist, and I’m curious how exactly you found them and what is worth that kind of desperation.”

  He walked in silence, chewing his cheek. He glanced at the prince, who had buried his hands in his pockets, waiting patiently for him to answer. Would it be so bad to confide in someone? Someone who would listen with no judgements, no pre-conceived notions of who he really was. Or who he had to be.

  “I like to read. History is my passion. Look, all my life I have been groomed to become part of the Academy’s successors. Which means not having regular classes and having access to materials the Faes have brought in for their own use. This book I found, well, I devoured every word. Is it so wrong to believe that there is more to the magic of this world? We are here, so why couldn’t these mythical creatures be as well? It took a lot of hunting and obviously exploring. I found the gateway a couple of years ago by sheer luck and this research. I haven’t told anyone because who would listen? Who would believe me? Especially now.”

  The prince nodded. “It takes a dreamer to know a dreamer. You and I aren’t that different.”

  Adair whispered, “It was worth it. The Gortach is a seer of sorts. It can see into the future of the question the person presents to it. The Faes have been lying to us.”

  Rubbing his hands together, Marquis was practically bouncing on his heels. “You do know that was our true intention for coming, right?”

  Adair practically tripped over his own feet. Halting, he asked. “What?”

  “Stories travel fast to the Isles. Even though our trading routes have been cut off since Nei’s father, Briar, was ruling, word still got to us. We are rovers after all, and gathering secrets is like our oxygen. Anyways, my dad was curious about why Briar cut off the Shattered Isles from his oldest daughter. Before he was usurped and killed, it was found out that Roque was keeping some dangerous secrets from prying eyes. It’s not a coincidence that we are here or that there have been horror stories of dark creatures ravaging Kiero. It’s true my dad is here to build an alliance with the Faes but not before finding out the truth. We are buying time. Didn’t you ever wonder why I didn’t go with my group? I have been assigned the key role of finding out if Kiero is worth our alliance.”

  He beamed at Adair and adrenaline coursed through him. Adair choked back his relief and a strangled laugh. “And what do you think so far?”

  Marquis stopped, looking at him dead in the eyes. “That right now, that place is built on a warped dream that is overrun with lies and deception. That the good intentions have been lost in translation. Your father is proof of that.”

  A moment passed. Running his hand along his mouth, Adair started walking, weaving through the towering forest. Ice cut through his veins, vicious and unrelenting. His father. The traitor. The unhinged man who was never satisfied. Did he find what he looking for? That which would make him feel full in his life? If he would make the world bow to his rage, would he look back and feel happy? Knowing that he had filled his years, breaking him, with his anger and his violence. That he had left his best friends, forcing their world back into a split balance. To choose sides. What side would he be on? He was an outcast in the Academy. He was torn in his family. When the time came, where would his allegiances be?

  “Hey! Adair.” Marquis was practically chasing him, grabbing his shoulder, making him stop. “I didn’t mean anything by that. I’m sorry.”

  Chewing his lip, Adair looked up toward the sky, where the golden hues spread across the clouds like gold flecks, dusting and shaping the sky. His anger, his confusion, his hurt rushed up to him.

  “Adair?”

  With burning eyes, he snapped, “Look it’s fine. I’m fine. Let’s just get back, okay? I have a lot to do.”

  “Adair!”

  He didn’t stop, didn’t turn back. This prince was just like everyone else, using him for his own benefits, to get what he wanted. All this time he was a fool, believing that maybe, just maybe he had made a friend. He had no one. Emory, turned to her family and now claimed her birthright. Her father, making her choose. He was alone in this. Roque feared him, and his ability. He had been delusional to think that he ever had a place in the Academy. He had always been kept on a leash, entertained because of Cesan’s relationship. But now? It was time he accepted that his future was now in his hands. And it started by finding out why Roque was hiding this so-called Book of Old. And why he needed access to the ancient power.

  Pulling his jacket closer, he nestled into the darkness curling around his heart and the echoes of those soft voices coursing through him. Yes. Yes. Yes. Marquis followed beside him, shooting glances every now and then out of the corner of his eye. He never faltered, staring straight ahead and falling into his silence. With each passing second, with each footfall, Adair’s certainty grew into a concrete form, small at first. But then it exploded through him, sharp and consuming. He knew where his alliances lay. He had always known it; he just wasn’t able to face his own truth. They laid with him. Not with the Academy. Or the Faes. Or his parents. What were his best interests? In a world that was being ripped apart by the politics of kings? The thought grew and grew, and as Adair walked, for the first time in his life, he envisioned a different future.

  They had walked for hours in silence. The afternoon grew hot and heavy, both boys having to tie their jackets around their waists. The sun soaked into their skin, making Adair’s neck hot and itchy. The towering trees had begun to thin, leaving the memories of the Gortach deep within the forest, locked away.

  Marquis hissed through his teeth. “It feels so much longer walking back to our reality then escaping it.”

  He raised his eyebrow at the prince, not replying. Deeper and deeper his thoughts ran into those hidden nooks and crannies of his heart, into places he steeled with an iron barrier. Preparing for his reality. One where it wouldn’t involve him and Emory as a team, preparing for a future where the Academy would have been theirs. One where his small reprieve of friends wouldn’t exist. There was a murmur of sighs on the wind as it ruffled through the leaves, making his heart beat a little faster. Looking around, nothing seemed amiss or different. The overlaying songs of the forest were in full play, from the gurgling streams to the small animals running in the distance.

  He stopped, his blood turning to ice. He whispered, “Marquis.”

  The prince stopped, huffing. “Oh, he does exist. Welcome back to the land of the living.”

  “Something is wrong.”

  His gaze narrowed slightly, his deep green eyes reflecting flecks of gold in the afternoon light. Looking around, he shrugged. “I don’t see anything. What do you mean?”

  Adair wiped his clammy palms on his pants, trying to steady his nerves. Everything looked normal, but there again, on the wind, the whispers became clear, and sharp. And filled with screams. They shivered down his spine, clambered into the walls of his consciousness. They were the lancing pain through his body, the agony in his heart. His feet carried him, even though every fiber of his core was ignited.
He heard Marquis muttering behind him, following closely, their pounding footsteps charging across the forest floor. He ran so hard, the trees blurred around him, his tunnel vision overwhelming him. Again, those screams echoed all around him, on the wind, in his mind. The once calmness of the forest seemed to ripple, and flickers of nightmares ignited around him. The daylight was gone. And the darkness awaited him. Vicious claws snapping, grabbing toward him, luminous eyes and fierce teeth, yearning, wanting to capture him. To tear, to rip, to consume. He ran faster, his chest burning, his breath coming out in wheezes. He was running blindly into the night, his arms cracking against the trees, fresh blood running down his arms. There was only him, Marquis disappearing on a distant memory. He was alone.

  “Adair.”

  Shuddering to a stop, he grabbed his temples, shutting his eyes quickly, not wanting to see them. Willing them away.

  “Adair, you are almost home.” Tears streamed down his face at the cool touch, and he was frozen. Cool fingers tipped his chin, and his eyes opened, and he took them in. Their pale arms, their elongated limbs. Their empty sockets, their pinned-back smiles. Their long black hair blended into the night around them as they circled around him, crooning.

  “Who are you?”

  The one closest to him tilted its head, weighing the question. “We are like you. Trapped in a world, in a place we don’t belong. A place that is dying. I have seen your heart, Adair. I have seen your dreams and your fears.” Again, she placed a hand over his heart, his wild beat thrumming as she breathed down his neck. Too close, too close. “And they are mine.”

  The surroundings around them melted away, the screams fading to a pulse in the back of his mind. All he could take in, all he could make out, was her. There was the crackle of flames, and Adair blinked. Flames roared all around them, uncontrolled and devouring everything they touched. He couldn’t feel the heat, or their burn as they licked his skin. The creature giggled before him whispering, “See? They won’t hurt you, can’t hurt you. This darkness, this endless destruction, is what you crave. In all its beauty, and in all its might.”