R
When I awakened, my arm was bandaged with gauze. The technology was definitely more advanced than what they had in Serre. Who knew what they did to it. For once, I didn’t want to find out.
Father chuckled. "Enjoy your sleep?"
“Surprisingly.” I yawned. “Yes.”
"It'll be your last one unless you repent to The Commander. Let’s be a family again,” Father begged.
I gulped. “Father… I can’t betray my friends. They’re a part of my family too.”
"When The Dreamers killed your mom, I swore to protect you. I won’t let you join your friends on that death row.”
“Father… The Dreamers didn’t kill her. Mai did.”
“Without proof, The Regime’s all we have.”
“Father…”
He placed a blindfold over my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
When we made it to our destination, he removed the blindfold, my eyes struggling to adjust to the pale light.
Mr. Knight’s next few words were quiet. “The last time I’ll see your face is midnight. No one’s getting you out of this.”
He nudged me into a prison cell, Wes and another boy on my right. My hands pressed against a cold cement floor, stains evidence of previous torture.
“Calista?” Wes had a cut on his temple, still fresh by the purple pus coming from it.
I took a deep breath and released it, trying to not jump straight to Mai’s spy accusation. “I found out about my mom. It was Mai. Mai killed her.”
“That makes perfect sense. That girl’s a halfwit witch.” Parts of the stranger’s face were swollen, including the upper portion of his lip, though his voice sounded familiar to my ears. The black circle covering his eye was a clear sign that he had been beaten to a pulp. I was caught off guard by some of the dried blood on his maroon shirt, the dry brown color looked revolting.
“Calista, this is Xiang. Kuan-yin’s cousin,” Wes spoke cautiously.
I glanced around. “Where’s Ju-long?”
“He…” Xiang’s head hung low. “He was taken away to be dismembered.”
My lip quivered. “No, that can’t be true…”
“The dream-killers have gone too far this time. He gave them the answers he wanted.”
My eyes narrowed. “Interesting coming from you. Mai said you worked for her.”
“Calista, I…” the guilt in his eyes was undeniable.
I clenched my teeth together. “How could you?! All this time, I’ve been a pawn… and to think we had a connection and…”
“That isn’t true. Not now anyway…”
“Was lying to Ambert part of your plan too?”
“At first, but not now,” Wes croaked.
“Then The Commander was right! You’re a spy!”
“Not until you and Ambert changed that.”
“And why would he have anything to do with this?” I asked.
“... I was supposed to kill you. Turn him against Dreamers.” Wes lowered his eyes. “But I couldn’t do that. You were so nice to me. About Aurelia. About everything. I couldn’t kill you after I felt my emotions kickstart.”
My heart fluttered in my chest, but I couldn’t help but be wary. He could’ve been playing with my feelings. That’s what spies did. It’s probably what happened to so many others: Becky, June… maybe tons more were ensnared by the promises of dreams. What made me any different? Tears spilled from my eyes.
“The Regime places rigorous training on their spies. It’s a wonder you retained any Dreamer ideology at all.” Xiang looked out the barred window.
“The Commander told me he’d let Aurelia go if I did! Okay!?” Wes looked my direction. “When Henry died, The Regime caught me. Told me about Aurelia. So, I did what they ordered me. I found candidates in schools for Project Dark Phoenix. Brought them in. Got them captured. Turned them against Dreamers… it was sickening.”
Everything he did was for Aurelia. Rebelling was for Aurelia. His artwork was for Aurelia. Deception for Aurelia. All of it for Aurelia’s safety. He had that kind of dedication to his sister. Was the same dedication poured into the resistance? Thoughts turned in my head. If he cared about Aurelia that much, I should’ve died.
“What made you change your mind?” I placed my head on his shoulder.
A moment of silence quickly passed the time.
“At first.” Wes swallowed a lump his throat. “Desperation. You promised to find Aurelia. To help me get her out. Then it grew to friendship. And then…”
He brushed his hand against my head, slowly comforting me.
“And then what?” I looked up at him.
“Then I saw you for who you really were: a beautiful, creative, freckle-covered girl with the power to change the world. More mesmerizing than any other Dreamer I’d met.”
“But I ruined everything. I let my foster mom die.”
“I won’t allow those murderers to outlive us. We’ll get out together and free Aurelia. I don’t care how.” Wes' face was dark, deep flame behind his eyes.
A giggle came from the shadows. “Wow! Anything, huh?”
“Get out of here, Commander!” I yelled.
Wes’ lip quivered as Mai revealed herself, her hands soaked in blood. Dustin and Enya laid at her feet. Besides obvious cuts on their faces, Enya wore a new neck collar, which I was sure would shock her if she wasn’t obedient, just like a Regime dog. Mai unlocked another cell and ordered two guards to place Dustin and Enya into it.
Mai tilted her head. “Not happy to see me?”
“You witch…” Enya spat blood on the ground. She tried to summon flame in her hand, but the collar sparked her neck.
“You’re no fun.” Mai’s crooked smile widened.
I narrowed my eyes. “Ambert will stop you.”
“Will he?” Mai laughed. “I’m enjoying our game of cat and mouse, but it’s getting old. He’s probably just as bored as me if he isn’t getting a guilt trip.”
“No one talks about Ambert that way,” Wes said.
Xiang croaked, “No one would get captured for a random pile of radicals.”
“Well, duh, but I’ve got his best friends. He’ll come. If he doesn’t, well, guess he’s as bad as me. Doubt he’ll live with that… the fact his friends will fuel Project Dark Phoenix. The fact they’re going to join with my magic and science. Such a great blend… sinister, but fun.”
“Ambert would do anything to protect us,” I said.
Mai walked away. “I’m counting on that.”
I shivered. We had to get out of here.
FOURTY
Ambert
This was my climax. The end. The final. Either The Regime would uphold my terms, or Base Darkguard would be out of operation.
The sun glowed a faint orange against the horizon. Silence in the musty air left the base solemn against the vibrant skyline. A fence in front of me kept my friends and sister confined in a place no one returned from — at least until today.
I stretched open my hand, stirring up a cloud of dust that choked away at the morning air. A low sound rumbled in my ears. Closing my hand, the dust rested as it did before. I knew the extent of what I could do, but I wouldn’t use it on anyone else — not again. The agony of high pitches shattering a skull’s eardrums was worse than a bullet.
Even if music was beautiful, sounds could be deadly.
A lump lodged itself in my throat, and I took a long breath to force down my fear. Sweat streamed down my forehead. I wiped it away.
Here I was, a scrawny seventeen-year-old with nothing but his wits and power over sound waves — and that was if I didn’t give into the darkness in my blood. The same darkness Mai fell into. The same darkness my mother passed on to me.
I was different than Mai. I had a great life with great friends. Yet, here I was, having to confront her.
If I had to take heroic steps, it wasn’t on a battlefield with friends like I imagined. Instead,
I was alone. Sand swirled about the lands ahead. Steam rose as rays of light melted away what little moisture remained. Beyond the forts composing the base, there were little signs of life beyond an occasional patch of stubbly grass.
With my violin, I played a few scratchy notes before continuing to string a melody. The chained fence around Base Darkguard rattled at the rollercoaster of sounds, and that was fine by me.
On the balcony above the gate, a familiar girl with pink-ribboned pigtails gazed down with a crooked smile on her face. The black swirled marking on her left arm blended with her dress. She tapped her fingers on a metal bar.
Mai giggled. “I knew you couldn’t resist.”
“I just want to talk.” I lowered my violin.
“You’ve gotta be here for more than a chat.” Mai leaned over and blew a whistle.
Soldiers surrounded her, eager to help. Their faces scoffed at me and a few guards sneered toward the back. They didn’t know I still had the advantage.
“Let my friends, Cal, and Enya go.” I clenched my fist, keeping myself firm but still in control.
The wind blew again, brushing dirt onto my white attire, worn down from the travel. I shoved my hair back away from my face and held my ground, not slumping just like Mr. Knight did in his duties.
“Ooh — and what are you gonna do about it?” Mai laughed.
“See this?” I raised my right hand next to my head. “I can send sound waves powerful enough to kill someone. The damage isn’t pretty. It would be impossible to put it back together.”
Mai’s eyes widened for a second, but she quickly regained her composure. “Why do you think I care?”
“Because, Commander, I’m the one you said had the most potential. Kill me, and The Regime has no future. Make me your enemy, and Base Darkguard’s going down. I suggest you get out a pen before we have to fight.”
“You’re threatening me?!”
The pause lingered forever. My eyes scanned for a move in the soldiers’ formation or any signs of a hidden attack. If she did anything, I had to follow through with my blow. I drew in rapid, sharp breaths. Was I ready for that? Committing a suicide run — a move even Battle Strategy 101 said was risky — was something I didn’t think I was ready to do. If it prevented Mai from taking advantage of my friends, I couldn’t turn back.
“Your move, Commander Mai.”
“…If only The High Council was that smart.” Mai’s crooked grin widened. “Let’s welcome The Sparrow of Silence home.”
“Of course, Commander.” the guard adjacent to Mai saluted her.
A portion of the chain-link fence swung open, guarded by men with rifles. Each stood straight, head held high for their country and its ideals. Some glared at me; their expressions failed to conceal their loathing.
I was number one on The Regime’s Most Wanted. They heard the tales of my abominable actions. Every radical thing I’d done to protect Cal, every move I played to survive, was seen as a detestable act.
I shoved down another wave of panic and tried to organize the chaos inside my mind. Without a game plan, nothing would end well. Playing my cards right had to become my first priority, even over my own life. Many others had their lives at stake because I dragged them into this mess.
For Dreamers, for Enya. For Cal…
Mai skipped down the stairs to meet me, her face lit with thrill and enthusiasm. “This way.”
Creek — Step. Creek — Another step. Instead of the soft rustling of sand, a clamor of screams echoed down every hallway. Mai skipped along, not phased by the sounds. The screams in Darkguard oozed it with death and sorrow like something evil had taken it long ago. The twisted Commander seemed used to it. Part of it.
She bounced on the inside, ready for this moment — a moment she calculated. Her ink-colored eyes gazed at me like I was an opportunity. Not heartless like she’d been with Vana, Cal, and the others, but secretly burning with a desire. A desire to manipulate me to her advantage and snatch a chance to get what she wanted.
Too bad Mai didn’t know I planned for that too. The pistol in my back pocket didn’t get any lighter.
FOURTY-ONE
Ambert
Mai led me into another room through a sliding glass door. A circular translucent table sat in the center, a chair at both sides. The room itself was all white like Serre, and so dead silent, my own heartbeat thumped in my ears: shallow, rapid, scared.
On the table laid a quill and a jar for ink, and on the wall was a cabinet — white like the mask The Regime wore over itself. No one judged the system. No one but the people who opposed it.
“Take a seat.” Mai smiled and took the seat closest to the cabinet.
I sat in the wooden chair, making a squeak as I did so. Leaning back, I drummed my fingers on the table. I closed my eyes and took a few breaths. Anything to protect Cal. Anything to help Enya. That’s all I had to focus on.
“Want anything? I’ve got tea, cakes, water...” Mai’s face looked at me earnestly like those times in Safe Haven long ago.
“Maybe a slice of cake. That’s it,” I said, monotone.
Mai giggled and nodded to a guard. “I’ve wanted you to come here, believe it or not.”
“Me?” I asked. “Because I’m your hand selection?”
“I actually kept you for two-ish years before handing you to Knight. When we won the first rebellion, I wish The Regime would’ve let me keep you. This place would’ve really cultivated your talent.”
“Sure…” I started.
The guard came by with a plate. Chocolate cake with glossy, caramel icing sat on it, and a piped flame was designed on its side in fulvous-colored icing.
“Chocolate’s my favorite,” Mai explained. “Never could bring myself to outlaw it. That’d just be plain evil!”
“Guess so.” I took a bite of the cake, letting the delicious dessert ooze in my mouth. Leftover and canned food couldn’t compare to something freshly baked and filled with frosting.
“You’re being quiet, for an optimist. Is it the darkness here?”
“I’m not a pacifist or an optimist: I’m an idealist with big goals. Does The Regime find that scary?”
Mai sipped from her tea before making her answer. “Something scary and something great.”
She popped up from her seat and opened the cabinet. Rows of scrolls sat on the shelves, as well as a small, black-swirled box. Mai took a key from her pocket and opened it, reaching for the scroll inside. When she was finished, she locked the box, closed the cabinet, and skipped back to her chair.
“What’s that?” I eyed her and the scroll.
Mai smiled. “There’s the inquisitive version of Ambert! Besides that and your potency for magic, you know how dangerous you are. This scroll has our terms, and you’re going to sign it so I’ll let go of your friends.”
“What’s the catch?”
“How about you read it yourself?” Mai unrolled the scroll.
AMBERT GREER
To save for when he’s old enough to consent.
Under the terms of this contract, he’s now a possession of The Commander and The Regime. You owe The Commander a life-debt, and in that service, you must abide by The Regime’s laws and be kept The Commander’s prisoner to extents…
There was so much in this scroll: from conditions to procedures to plans. Not all of it could fit into a single entry, but, rest assured, every word of it sunk into me like a stake. At the end of the document, a line laid for me to sign. A huge line with vacant space between itself and the text.
Mai wanted a huge, confident signature on her monstrosity of a contract. It was the only way Cal and Enya would be safe, even if I didn’t like it. Even if I’d have to keep my mouth shut on most of its terms, I had to go through with this. It was the only choice to save The Dreamers from war.
I took the quill out of its container and dabbed it on the paper. No ink. Just my luck.
“You forgot to fill the in
k.” I placed the quill back in its place.
Mai’s face lit up. “Then you’re actually going to sign it?”
“Yes,” I spoke with confidence, though inside my nerves clawed for release.
“Even after reading the conditions?”
“Yes.”
“Even after reading what will happen after you put your name here?”
“Yes!”
“... You’d really do anything for those you care about, wouldn’t you?” Mai’s twisted smile widened.
“Will you give me the ink now?”
“Hold it. This contract is a commitment. In order to make sure you’ll never go against your word, we’re needing a special kind of ink.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, especially when she passed me a knife.
Mai cocked her eyebrow. “You know what you have to do.”
She wanted more than a pen signature. She wanted a blood oath. Something unbreakable, even if we talked out a verbal agreement or if she broke terms. It was a risk I had to take.
I raised the knife on the table and held it against my left palm. Breath in, breath out. It would only be a little blood. Tearing through the layers of skin, a fierce red flowed from my hand and into the dark container.
I wrapped a piece of my white shirt around my wound and dipped the white quill in the blood. The clash of red and white caught my attention. In it, I saw light and dark, war and innocence, chaos and organization. Juxtaposition — all in one place. All in my hands. There was so much power in what I was doing, yet I was so helpless against it. My dreams and sacrifices lined up.
With a stroke Wes would use on an artwork, I wrote out my name: legible, cursive like an emperor would be proud of. There it was on the paper, confident just like Mai wanted.
Ambert Alexander Knight Greer
“You signed it!” Mai squealed and grasped the scroll like a stuffed animal. “I’m so happy!”
I didn’t speak a word. Did I just do that?
Splintering Reality (Breaking Order Series Book 2) Page 27