Wicked Rebellion (Darkwater Reformatory Book 3)

by Marty Mayberry

  “I am who I need to be.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Who I need to be.” When he looked up, lines of urgency filled his pale face. “Take it.”

  “What?”

  He held out the trowel.

  I didn’t stretch out my hand. “Don’t you need it to get rid of the rest of the weeds?”

  “It’s just a simple trowel. I have others and won’t miss this one.” He urged it my way. “Take it. You might need it. Keep it with you. It’ll…” A wave of his hand and it had shrunk enough I could fit it in my pocket. “It’ll come in handy.”

  Assuming I had to dig weeds.

  No harm in taking it, I supposed. Brushing off the dirt, I examined it, but it was like any other gardening tool my mom used in the small bed she maintained at our old house.

  “Thanks,” I said, because I felt I should.

  He nodded and yanked on the grass with his hands. “Go. Before…”

  My skin peppered with goosebumps, and my gaze drifted to the woods, but all appeared still.

  Leaving him, I started toward my friends.

  My father called out before I took more than a few steps, and I turned.

  “Goodbye.” His gaze didn’t leave mine. “You’ll know when to use it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Brodin met up with me before I reached the others. “They weren’t able to get the door open. I have to bring all of us back at once.”

  I peered around him, finding them sitting on the stairs, staring this way. “The door opened for me in the past, but…”

  “What?”

  “My father said I was permitted to come here.” I frowned. “But what about you?” Were things different because of his Eerie form?

  I worried my lower lip with my teeth. “I only have two days left. Can you take us directly to the third path?”

  He nodded, and we joined the others to explain.

  Brodin shifted and took us back to the parallel Reformatory, though he landed in the front entry.

  Bixby stood in the middle of the room, fuming.

  “I tried,” Brodin said to me. “But I was pulled here instead.”

  “Where have you been?” Bixby shrieked, charging toward us.

  I stumbled into Brodin. He took my hand and squeezed.

  “We just finished the second test,” Jacey said, her chin lifting. “We were about to take the third.”

  “In between then and now. I know you left,” she roared, stomping toward Jacey. My friend stood strong; her hands clenched at her sides. “I should have killed you the moment you arrived with your pitiful boyfriend.”

  “Why didn’t you?” Rohnan asked, putting himself between Jacey and Bixby.

  “I wanted to play with you.” She tipped her head back and cackled.

  Her brother, Duvoe, leaned against the right wall, watching. He laughed along with her, his arms crossed on his chest, and his fingers twitching.

  Bixby lifted one arm and with a flick of her hand, sent Rohnan flying into the door behind him. He groaned and dropped to the floor.

  “You bastard,” Jacey yelled as she rushed to Rohnan. She knelt and felt his forehead, gliding her hand down his face as he looked up at her. When she helped him stand, he hissed when he put pressure on his right foot.

  “I’m a bastard, eh?” Bixby said, chuckling again. “You forget. I’m the one in charge here. I decide who stays and who must return to the prison.” Her gaze drilled Rohnan. “Or perhaps he would prefer to lie beneath the glass floor again. How was it there, Rohnan? Did you have enough time to think about how your actions impact everyone around you?”

  “I have done nothing wrong,” he ground out. “You have no say in what Jacey and I do.”

  “I don’t, but the fae king does, and he’s displeased.” She studied her nails.

  Duvoe studied Bixby. I hated Bixby, but sometimes, I hated him even more, because he stood by and let her do whatever she wanted with us. He enabled her. And he supported her, cheering her on with his laughter. He was always around while she harassed us, but he never intervened. Did he take pleasure in watching her cruelty in action?

  “I don’t care what the king thinks,” Jacey said. “Rohnan and I are together, and nothing is going to change that.”

  “You think so?” Bixby said. “Then you don’t understand magic very well, do you?”

  Jacey started toward Bixby again, but Rohnan held her back.

  “What are you planning?” Jacey raged. “Tell us.”

  “As if I would?” The smile Bixby raised sent goosebumps down my spine. For the first time since we left the catacombs, I felt true fear. This woman controlled everything. Us, the tests, and even the parallel Reformatory.

  But if my assumption was correct, she didn’t control the parallel Reformatory. How could we use this against her?

  “Let them go,” Duvoe said in a dry voice. “I’d like to watch them take the next test. It should prove…interesting.”

  Chills wracked my spine. What did he know about the next test?

  Bixby huffed and stalked back and forth in the foyer, her high heels clicking on the flooring and her black dress swishing across her calves. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and sighed. “This time, I will let them go, but you won’t be able to change my mind again.” Her attention wandered across us. Brodin stood still, his hand on my shoulder—for support, not to hold me back. Jacey spoke quietly to Rohnan, who nodded. And Kylie quivered, a rabbit pinned in place by the stare of a coyote. If Bixby didn’t need her, she’d rip Kylie apart.

  None of us liked being under Bixby’s eyes.

  “Go,” she finally said. “Take the third test. And then we’ll talk.”

  “I’m going to take them all,” I said. “And then you’re going to release us.”

  Bixby smiled. “Why would I do that?”

  “Don’t forget the rules. If we pass all the tests, we can leave. We’re,” I made air quotes, “reformed and allowed to depart the island.”

  “That’s not quite true,” she said with a slick smile.

  “What do you mean?” My uncle had confirmed this, but my uncle wasn’t here now. Did he have any say about what happened at the Reformatory or had his comment been speculation?

  I hadn’t pinned all my hopes on this, however. We’d made a rough plan.

  “You may make it through the four tests, but then it is up to me to decide if you leave the island,” Bixby said.

  “You have no say in it,” I said, not playing my hand, but also unable to keep my mouth shut.

  “You forget who you are and what you’re wearing.” Her gaze fell on my tennas. They tightened, and my head swam. What was she doing to me? “I’m not releasing anyone who steals my dragons.”

  “You know we won’t give them to you,” I said.

  “That’s not what you promised,” Duvoe said, his cheeks flushed scarlet.

  “I think our plans have changed.” Please, let them change. I couldn’t give into his demand.

  “Then you’ll die,” Bixby said. “Either during one of the tests, because they’re endless, my dear, or if you try to leave the island.”

  “If you mean the creatures, we’ll find a way past them.” Assuming we ditched the tennas.

  “Haven’t you heard?” she said with a slick smile. “Your tennas will detonate if you try to remove them.”

  That wasn’t true, was it?

  The look in Brodin’s eyes said we didn’t want to test it.

  Bixby grunted and lifted both arms.

  A blink, and we stood on the main path encircling Bixby’s Reformatory. Without discussion, we started down the path, heading for the next test. We could talk about this latest development once we entered the challenge.

  After taking the third path, we found ourselves walking on a wooden boardwalk meandering through a marsh filled with clusters of cattails on either side. The thick, bushy brown pods had come apart, shedding cottony seeds in hope of creating a new generation. A deep, gurgling ribbit sent m
e spinning, and I spied a frog sitting on the boardwalk behind us. Not any old frog, but a big, mossy brown one with beady black eyes. The size of a small dog, it watched me, unblinking.

  Talk about creeping me out. I didn’t mind frogs, but preferred them the size of my thumb, not my mom’s pet beagle.

  Before I could either scurry to catch up with my friends—who had kept going, oblivious to the creature watching—the frog leaped into the murky water, barely making a splash.

  Shrugging it off, I caught up to the others and held Brodin back. Once there was some distance between us, we continued, our shoes clunk-clunk-clunking on the cupped wooden boards.

  “Tell me my future paths,” I said. Most of the time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Especially when it was becoming clear one of them had a good chance of coming true.

  He squinted as he looked around, before his gaze narrowed on something behind me.

  When I spun, I found nothing but lily pads floating on smooth, brackish water and swamp grasses fluttering in the wind, their dried tops scratching together.

  I turned back to Brodin and leaned against the rickety wooden railing riding along this part of the boardwalk. “I need to know before we try to get out of here.”

  He took a deep breath and puffed it out. “All three of your possible future paths were the same.”

  “What?” Stretching my arms out on either side, I gripped the weathered railing. “What did you see?”

  “That’s the problem.” He growled and raked his hair. “In every one of them, I killed you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “What do you mean, you killed me?” I said as dread unfurled its wings inside me. “This isn’t possible.”

  His arms splayed wide. “I’m not going to do it.”

  “I’d never believe you would, but how can there only be one path? Everyone else has three different ones.”

  After scratching his head, he tugged on his ear. “Maybe the paths aren’t our possible futures.”

  “I hope not but tell me what happens.”

  “I’m battling my father, and you appear beside me.”

  Grimness stole through me like a dark cloud covering the sun before a storm. “Where was this? Do you remember?”

  “I fought him in the lobby of the Seeker’s Headquarters.”

  Everything started there. I made my blood bond with the Master Seeker, who’d taken advantage of my eagerness to find my father. It was also where he threatened to use my sister against me.

  “In one of your paths, you were fighting him.” My voice came out shaky, and I broke out in a sweat. “With a fillinette. Our paths are entwined.”

  “He took it from me and slashed my throat.”

  “You saw your possible future; one of your paths. But you said you hadn’t.” I wasn’t accusing him of lying, because I knew—

  “I was there with you in each of your possible paths and they all ended with me fighting my father with you by my side. That’s why I know it’s the path I’m meant to follow.”

  “You’ll die. I’m not going to let it happen,” I said fiercely. I hugged my arms around my waist.

  Stepping forward, he cupped my face with his warm palms and gave me a quick, searing kiss before lifting his head. Our gazes locked, and I never wanted to pull away. Right now, we were together. Who knew what the next moment would bring?

  “You died, too,” he said. “And I’m as determined as you to change what happens. Don’t count me—us—out yet.”

  “If you don’t go to him, it can’t happen.”

  Ahead, the others stopped and turned. They watched us, maybe waiting to see how this would play out.

  How could they know I battled for Brodin’s survival? This had been coming, building, rising to its head. We would’ve had it out sometime.

  “I have to challenge him,” he said. “It’s my destiny.”

  “It’s not.” I whirled around to face him. “You pick your destiny, not fate. You control your actions.”

  “It’s not like that,” he said, pleading. His fingers dropped onto my shoulders and tightened, his urgency coming through in his touch. “Don’t you see?”

  “No. How can I? Tell me.” The words were jerked out of me, choked with emotion. I wasn’t worried about me. I was prepared to do whatever I must to save my sister and Brodin, even if I died doing it. But if he went to his father, if he challenged the Master Seeker, Brodin would set himself on a course he couldn’t escape, a path where I couldn’t save him.

  “The Master Seeker raised me, but he’s not my father,” Brodin said.

  “You’re…” I frowned. “Does he know this?”

  “He didn’t, but I assume he does now. That’s why he’s eager to kill me.”

  “If he’s not your father, then—”

  Brodin’s body tightened as if prepared for a blow. “I’m half-sketar witch.”

  Ah. “You made fun of sketar witches when we first met.”

  “I always do. My mother said it might protect me.”

  “You’re the one he’s been searching for all this time. He killed your mother because she wouldn’t tell him where to find a certain half-sketar witch. Why is he so desperate to kill you?”

  “Because he was told by a Scryer that a half-sketar witch would be his downfall.”

  Leaning against the railing again, I propped my arms up. The wooden structure creaked, but it felt sturdy enough to hold my weight.

  I studied Brodin’s face, and there was no missing his pain and sorrow, plus the ache he must feel knowing the man he’d called father, the man who raised him, was determined to kill him.

  “He killed my mother,” he said, and it was clear from his tone there would be no talking him out of what he ached to do next. “I have to revenge her.”

  “Revenge is a bitter drink to swallow. It burns on its way down and sits in your gut like battery acid.”

  “I have no choice.”

  “There are always choices. Choose life.” I couldn’t say choose me, because I’ll never put him in a position where he had to let go of his quest or lose me. This wasn’t all or nothing.

  He growled, but I could tell he wouldn’t relent.

  “If you’re determined to see this path through, we’ll do it together,” I said.

  “I won’t let you die.”

  “I’ve seen you die, so it’s even, I guess.” While my lips twitched upward, I wasn’t joking. Not really. “Like I said earlier, knowledge is power. Now we know. Now we can make plans and change what happens.”

  “I don’t think it’s as easy as that.”

  “Life never is. Magic never is. But there must be a way out of this trap.”

  “You think so? I’m not optimistic. I believe we’re on one path in life and that’s it. There’s no deviation.”

  I flung up my hands. “I can’t…” Choking back my fear, I tried to speak in a reasonable tone. “I don’t like this. I’m worried. I want to help you. I want to be there with you to keep it from happening.”

  “I get it, Tria. This is why I don’t want you there. Like you said, knowledge is power, and I know what happens if you come with me. I won’t go unprepared, but I will go alone. If I take you with me, I set your course with the same ending.” His voice broke. “Please don’t push this. No matter what happens to me, I can’t watch you die.”

  “That’s how I feel. I—”

  The wooden rail behind me collapsed.

  I tumbled backward, into the murky water.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The frog waited for me. It grabbed onto my ankle and pulled me down, down.

  Cold water shocked through me like a lightning bolt, and I couldn’t move or think. I couldn’t breathe.

  My arms flailed, and I kicked, but the creature latched onto my hair. It hauled me behind it, its strong legs jerking out, dragging me to the bottom, then along a mucky surface. My butt banged on rocks and sunken logs; plus other things I was glad I couldn’t identify. My body hit
the lip of an underwater cliff, and I tumbled over the edge. The frog was relentless, pulling me away from any chance of help. We hit clearer water, and I could finally see, but no matter how desperately I struggled, I couldn’t break the frog’s grip. I couldn’t get free.

  Air. Air! My lungs quivered, deprived of air, and my brain whirled as darkness roared across my mind.

  When I began to believe I’d be unable to resist sucking in brackish water, the frog dipped into a hole in a rocky wall, hauling me with it. My sides scraped the opening, and the feeling I’d get stuck and remain here forever consumed me. I thrashed, but that only made things worse, as my arms took a beating against the rock wall. I bumped my head hard enough that I saw stars in the black sky crowding around me.

  I pictured Fleur in my mind. Brodin. Everyone I loved more than life itself. I’m sorry…

  We bobbed up out of the water, and I gasped in mossy air.

  The frog stroked forward, its back legs flicking, propelling us toward a sandy shore.

  I peered around, trying to place myself. Another cave?

  No, a sinkhole. I read about them in school. A round cavern in the ground, with a hole in the ceiling to let in light. Vines draped from above and down the walls. The purplish, leafy vegetation swayed as if a breeze cut through the room. Birds darted in and out of the hole, and dusky brown creatures clung to the roof, flicking out webbed wings and emitting high-pitched chirps.

  Releasing me in the shallow water, the frog left the small pool and hopped up onto the narrow shore. Stopping, it turned and croaked.

  “Coming,” I groaned, trying to make my sore limbs move. “I might as well find out what comes next. I take it this is the next test?”

  The frog sat on its haunches and stared at me with its beady black eyes. Its dark brown body rippled, and I swore gold flecks danced beneath the skin’s surface.

  “Talkative thing, aren’t you?” I said, crawling up onto the shore. I wanted to flop on my belly and recover, maybe take a nap to get over the trauma, but time was short, and I needed to find a way out of this challenge. Even more, I needed to test our theory that I could escape without completing the test.