Renegade: A Young Adult Dystopian

by Mallory McCartney

  She bobbed her head. “Excellent, as long as you aren’t a group of murderous weirdos, this should be great.”

  He really laughed now. “You’re safe from murderous weirdos. We are what is left of the Academy.”

  “Like the Academy?”

  “The one and only.”

  She nodded, lost in thought, before she whispered, “That’s where we should go, probably.” Back to the Academy?

  He mulled over the thought before nodding slowly. “It would be the last thing Adair would expect. What do you say, should we go back home?”

  Their swearing and catcalls were answer enough as he limped over to Memphis, scooping his friend up, and they slowly made their way back home. Back to the beginning. To the start of something new. As the idea of rebellion burned in his mind, he knew he could never go back to who he had been. As they navigated the woods together, the sigh of the wind calmed his aching soul, he knew he would never forget. And never forgive the Dark King.

  27

  Memphis

  Two Years Later

  He stared at her lifeless body, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Hours had passed, and Memphis chewed on his fingernails, as a cool breeze filtered in the small room. Bruises flowered her body, her features peaceful as her purple hair contrasted violently with her pale skin. She looked half-starved and moments from death, but to be honest, most did when they were brought in. Alby had found her north, near the Arken mountain range, which was dangerous territory past the raiders. He had nearly slapped Alby for going that far, but staring at her face, he was glad he did.

  It has been two years, since that day. He had wiped her memories as their world dove into war and they dove into rebellion. There wasn’t a moment that passed that he didn’t think about her. He always protected them all, overplanning, overcautious. He saved his new family, because it was in his control. One that he had regained carefully, piecing himself back together. Slowly over the years, they built the Academy into a refuge. Hissing, he held his head in his hands, taking in his black uniform and the reprieve they had promised here. What he had promised. By hiding under the ground.

  A slight movement snapped his attention back to the young woman, and he tensed as he felt something lightly brush against his consciousness. Freezing he watched her eyes flicker open, revealing the most violet eyes he had ever seen. She croaked, “Where am I?”

  He answered her mentally, “What’s your name?”

  She cringed, her eyes growing wide. “You’re like me?”

  His lips tugged up slowly. “Yes.”

  She smoothly replied, “My name is Nyx.” A pause.

  “Just Nyx?”

  She narrowed her eyes, but with slightly more aggression repeated, “Where am I?”

  Clearing his throat, he tried to sound consoling. “Nyx, my name is Memphis Carter. Welcome to Black Dawn Rebellion.”

  “A rebellion?”

  “We are finding survivors and providing refuge against Adair’s reign.” He chewed his fingernail. Once we find out where he is hiding.

  She twisted her face. “And what if I don’t want to be a part of your noble cause, Memphis Carter?”

  He straightened. “You are free to leave if you wish to. Though I will admit that would be a first. And how do you know that I am leading this cause?”

  She smirked. “You have that air about you.” Furrowing his brow, he remained silent until she croaked, “What’s the catch?”

  He smoothly replied aloud, “What do you mean?”

  She whispered, “Everyone I know is dead now. But no one, and I mean no one, has ever breathed anything about a resistance.”

  He truly smiled now. “That’s because I am a strong believer in staying alive and building strength before going on a suicide mission. No one knows about us unless we find you.”

  She smirked, and his heart cracked. That smile that lit up her face reminded him of one he never wanted to say goodbye to. Of a woman a lifetime away. One he may never see again.

  She croaked back at him, “Get me some water and food and I may just take you up on your offer, Commander.”

  A gentle lightness tugged at his heart for the first time in what felt like a century. “Heal, Nyx, and we will talk more then.”

  The first telekinetic he had encountered in years snored lightly as she drifted back into sleep. He sent orders to Bryd and left the room, clicking the door softly behind him.

  Brokk was out on a scout, and Memphis walked back slowly to his room, the skeletal remains of the Academy slowly being built back into life. Minutes passed before he opened the door to his bunker. His thoughts churned violently, and he breathed his frustrations out, not thinking about his second-in-command who drifted away from him more every day. And Adair, his ghost army purging their world of life. The Dark King lived up to his name. Untraceable.

  Flopping on his bed, he kicked his boots off, absentmindedly grabbing the half-burnt book from his nightstand. It was the only book he had found from his possessions that day they had first come back. Brokk had saved him that day, but he was changed, the tinges of darkness flowing into his mind. The Dream Guide. It was a lost boy’s hope, to hold a tendril of her consciousness, an ounce of control over her. It was his fantasy, a madness, that if they ever brought Emory Fae back, she would love him. Feel safe with him. And only him. So, like every night, Memphis settled in, his ability exploding from him in a wave of energy as he followed the instructions, weaving together the fabrication that he wanted her to see vividly. He had no idea if it was even possible that it would work, but the dark thrill exploded through his chest, and he hoped that it did. He lost himself in that hope, that jealously, and it consumed him. Blocking everything out of his mind, blocking Kiero out and the never-ending war, he fabricated his fantasy, living every second of it, as reality bled away.

  28

  Adair

  He stood on the shoreline, the Black Sea crashing, the mist and salt coating his skin. His hands shook as he clenched the parchment between his hands, the words branding themselves in his mind.

  Marquis Maher was now the King of the Shattered Isles.

  Yelling, he incinerated the letter in his palm, the scorched paper catching and floating in the wind like ash. Calm yourself, our king.

  “Is this what you wanted? After everything? To share my reign with a king from across the Sea?” he yelled to the open air, to the wind and to the crashing waters.

  You know you and your people need his resources. Growling, he paced back and forth, Marquis’s words bouncing in his mind. Go to war with me and lose your trading routes my father upheld with you. Cross our waters, and I will kill you.

  Snarling, he sent emerald green fireballs rocketing out from his palms just to watch them flare and then hiss and die as they hit the water. He envisioned they were Marquis, and it calmed his racing pulse. Wrenching his gaze, he popped the collar on his black jacket, and walked back to his kingdom. He entered the woods, deep purple leaves and moss igniting in the daylight. One that flourished under his reign and protected his kingdom. One that captured the essence of shadows. Hisses and growls followed his footfalls as yellow eyes flickered to life, watching his movements.

  In the Noctis woods, or better known by his people as the Heart of Midnight, it was a refugee for ancient dark magic. It was his reprieve, a place where he could just be. The foliage of leaves casted a brilliant dappled light as he looked up.

  Across the sea, Marquis thought he had him shackled, backed into a corner. Chewing on the inside of his lip, his answer formed in his mind. Whispers from the shadows pulled at him, but in a flurry of mist and shadow, he was flying. In seconds, he passed through air and stone, and materialized in his court room.

  His throne was inky black with bones carved into it, and Adair stared at his loyal guards smiling viciously. “It would seem we are needed to show our allegiance to a new king across the Black Sea.” They shifted uneasily, as he snapped, “Parchment and ink, now.” He glared, watching them scrambl
e, lost in aged memories. His dark gaze flickered back as he was handed what he needed and nodding, he started his letter. “Marquis...” He wrote eloquently and without hesitation, and he knew his old friend would over time come to trust him again. And until the day they didn’t need him anymore, he would convince him he had bowed to their agreement. Only to sink the knife in his back when he dared not to look.

  His low growl of laughter erupted from him, bouncing around the room as beneath them, their kingdom grew, because to his people, he was their safety. His guards bowed their knees around the room as he wrote, softly weaving lies, sinking his claws deeper into everyone he could. It would never be enough until he destroyed every flicker of defiance. And he would start with Marquis. The thought bloomed, churning his determination and dark fixation. Diving deeper into that darkness, it encompassed him. And so, he wrote, lying of his compliance, waiting for the day they would meet again.

  Epilogue

  The Oliean

  They felt the shift of energy as they hissed in the darkness. They were stuck in this in-between place, trapped here by that witch. And the Book of Old, over the years, had become lost to them. But today they felt the shift, the balance as it tipped over. That magic that had once answered to them bowed to another, shifting its allegiance. They hissed, this Dark King flickering in their minds’ eye. The world around them was changing, and their mission to destroy this world drifting farther away the longer they were lost in the shadows. They couldn’t leave this spot, but it didn’t mean they couldn’t watch, and so they did, and they listened to the bloodlust and war raging above them.

  Years passed and betrayals long forgotten faded, but it did not in them. It flared and grew, and thought became obsession, obsession became madness. A gentle voice broke them out of their stupor, and they realized someone had found them, another witch. Peyton. The name sounded familiar as they connected the dots. This witch was the one to betray the secret organization, to grant them the chance to infiltrate the group. Magic rippled out from them, and for the first time in years, they broke through that barrier, the rocks flaring through their circle and they stood, taking in a trembling Peyton.

  They were in her basement, and she quaked underneath their gazes, bowing low. “My masters. I have found you. I have found you.” Their giggles bounced off the walls as they took in the weak witch, and they knew their plan was forming. She breathed. “I have created a passage for you so you can stay here, safe.”

  They paused, tilting their heads as the assassins felt their freedom seeping away with every second. The magic was blood magic, binding them, making them unable to get out of Peyton’s throes. The wheels started spinning, and their cool voices bounced off the walls. “Peyton, our servant, will you do what we say, exactly?”

  She trembled in pleasure. “I will do anything for you, my masters, anything.”

  Their giggles sounded as the wheels spun faster. They had waited this long, and they would continue to wait. Until they would break free and restore their King’s wishes. They would destroy everything this world thought was powerful, leeching it of life, until they were all that remained, building a new world for their king. Their magic flared around them, and they began.

  Acknowledgments

  First off, thank you to my tribe. My parents, Kathy and Norm, who didn’t think anything of their kid running outside playing out different characters, and acting out scenes for hours on end. Who continue to feed my book addiction, and taught me to appreciate the small things, and to never be afraid to dream. To my brother, Nate, who has always been there for me, no matter the situation or our age. For sharing in some wild adventures, and showing me that coffee is a miraculous thing. To Jess, my warrior, and teleconnected bestie, thank you for our our hours of chats, for believing in me, even when I didn’t. For Matt. You are my rock, thank you for pushing me to finish this book, for cheering me on, even when I didn’t see that the end of this project was a tangible thing. For never once faltering when I started talking about this idea, but instead pushing me to tell you more.

  To Link, Lola, and Leonard. You literally are all my writing assitants and thank you for the cuddle breaks (even if Leonard did try to eat the laptop cord, I take that as puppy enthusiasm.)

  To Stephanie, and the entire Clean Reads team, thank you for believing in Emory’s story and believing in me. You are breathing life into my dreams, and I am enternally grateful.

  To my beta readers, Jess, Matt, Candace, Natalia, Jordan, Holly- thank you for seeing all forms of this story, and for your enthusiasm and friendship.

  Thank you to all the awesome friends I have made in the book industry in the last year, I cherish our chats and love networking with you all! Bookstgram, truly, has become one of my favorite things! Lastly, thank you, too, reader, for picking up this story, and showing your enthusiasm for Emory, Brokk, Memphis and Adair(and of course, the rest of the crew ;) ). It means the world. This book was a planned novella, that exploded into a full fledged novel, and that was possible because of you. Look out for Queen to Ashes, coming this winter, and until next time- xo Mal.

  About the Author

  Mallory McCartney currently lives in Sarnia, Ontario with her husband and their three dachshunds Link, Lola and Leonard. When she isn’t working on her next novel or reading, she can be found daydreaming about fantasy worlds and hiking. Other favorite pastimes involve reorganizing perpetually overflowing bookshelves and seeking out new coffee and dessert shops.