The Agrista (Between the Lines Book 1) (15 page)

  “There are exceptions to the rule, and to be completely honest, we don’t fully understand it,” Cayden replied with a hint of embarrassment.

  “Besides, Bria is
biologically
male, but she dresses like a woman and demands to be treated as one,” said Alex.

  “She sure doesn’t
look
like a woman,” Raeph shivered.

  “Don’t be so closed-minded, Raeph. Perhaps she
feels
like one,” Fallon winked.

  “Probably more so than you do,” he mumbled incoherently.

“What was that?” Fallon growled.

  “Nothing!”

  “Why does Bria dress like a woman?” asked Marie, not wanting to deviate from the topic.

  “Who knows?” Cerin guffawed.

  “I mean, if an Umbra is the antithesis of the person they protect, and Bria dresses like a woman, does that mean Laylia’s extremely masculine?”

  “You’re thinking about it too literally. We Umbra still have free will. We’re perfectly capable of choice,” Alex spoke harshly, making it obvious she’d offended him.

  “The five of you can discuss this until you’re blue in the face, but I need to know where we’re going. It’s impossible to stay under the radar when you’re sitting in the same spot for so long, and it’s causing us to burn through Isabel’s energy reserves much faster,” said Raeph, aptly changed the subject.

  “Sadly, I cannot give you a destination, because I have no idea where Laylia and Bria are. Perhaps the best course of action would be to return to Milités to gather Intel and refresh our supplies.” Cayden stroked his strong, dimpled chin.

  “I
might
know where she is,” Cerin half-raised his hand as he was bombarded with doubtful glances. “I keep my ear to the ground every time I travel. Apparently, there’s some epidemic on Ovis. A disease that only affects children. It practically broke out overnight, followed by the appearance of a pretty, blonde doctor offering up a cure for a perfectly
unreasonable
price.”

  “That has Laylia written all over it,” Alex shook his head.

  “She’s a doctor?” Marie beamed. Finally, a potentially
normal
sibling!

  “A doctor, a poet, a painter...it’s constantly changing,” Alex rolled his eyes.

 
She hasn’t figured out what she wants to do with her life yet. So what? Neither have I.
Marie crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.

  “Set the course for Ovis,” Cayden ordered. “It takes several hours to get there from our current location. It’s a good opportunity for everyone to get some rest.” He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes and melted into the top bunk across from Alex.

  “Hey, Marie!” Raeph tossed her a small pouch filled with round, gelatinous beads, assuming her hyper-vigilance signified quick reflexes. Instead, it hit her in the face.

  “What’s this?” She grimaced, rubbing her forehead.

  “Pain medication. Don’t take too many, or you’ll go into a coma.”

  “That’s comforting,” she mumbled, skeptically eyeing the pouch.

  “I’m exhausted,” Cerin announced over a loud yawn as he settled into the bunk across from Marie, only to be yanked from the cushy fortress and thrown onto the unforgiving steel floor. Fallon smiled victoriously as she snuggled into the covers, still warm from Cerin’s body.

  “Where am I supposed to sleep?” he whined, holding himself against the chill.

  “No one cares,” Alex and Fallon replied in unison.

  Cerin muttered angrily under his breath as he trudged to the front of the ship, noisily throwing himself into the chair next to Raeph. The old friends perched stiffly at the face of Isabel, looking straight ahead to the endless diamond sky as they embarked upon a new course.

SECRETS

 
T
he reaction was instantaneous. Almost immediately after Marie popped one of the pills into her mouth, pins and needles pulsed beneath her skin as a soothing sensation washed over her body, lapping her nerves like a gently waning tide.

  The stale, coppery scent of blood hung thick in the air, snapping Marie awake as it invaded her nostrils like an angry squadron, firing off signals to her eyes in an explosion of synapses. She slapped her palms down on the cold, hard floor and forced herself upright with a gasp.

  “Where am I?” The wavering candlelight didn’t provide much clarity.

  The chilling familiarity of her surroundings sapped her energy and replaced it with uneasiness. She instinctively knew this place like an inescapable nightmare that preyed on her dreaming mind and plagued her waking hours, yet she couldn’t recall whose domain it was.

  She clambered to her feet and stumbled to the nearest stream of dappled light. She ripped a skinny candle from an iron sconce and used the dim glow to forge a path.

  Her eyes struggled to adjust to the dark as she ambled forward through the thin line of tunnel vision. Willowy shadows danced along the walls with an anxious flutter as a foreboding, unseen presence nipped at her heels, growing stronger with every quivering breath.

  Each flicker of shaded flame caused Marie’s heart to shudder. Shivers racked her body and rattled her bones. She nervously shuffled her feet forward until she felt a rough fabric curl beneath her toes. The soft weight behind it nearly threw her off balance as she clumsily sidestepped.

  She tentatively lowered her gaze to see what lie at her feet. “What is that?” she squinted.

  Marie slid her feet back and fell to her knees, hesitantly outstretching her arm. She sharply withdrew her hand when her fingertips skimmed across a cool, waxy surface. The foreign sensation and sinking feeling wrenched her breaths and left her trembling.

  Strips of tattered cloth caught her eye as they traced the line of a ripped servant’s dress, all the way up to the woman’s bared breasts. The surrounding pale skin was purple and crusted with splashes of crimson.

  “Oh my god,” Marie pressed two fingers to the underside of the woman’s limp wrist, feeling for a pulse, but she couldn’t detect even the slightest thrum. A wave of panic crashed over Marie as her uncertainty swelled.

  She leaned forward and placed her ear to the woman’s chest. The soft echo of a heartbeat imbued her with relief, though the hollow rhythm was fainter than a whisper. Wisps of air rattled through her lungs with a labored wheeze. She was alive, but not for much longer if Marie didn’t do something.

  “Wake up!” Marie whimpered as she took firm hold of the woman’s shoulders and shook her gently. “Please! You need to wake up!” a sense of urgency bled into her pleas as a cold weight bared down her, breathing down her neck and tickling her spine as her fear became palpable. “I don’t know what to do!” That wasn’t entirely true. She understood the basics of resuscitation, but had never attempted it herself.

  Marie pinched the base of the candle and slid it alongside the woman’s body. Waves of golden curls splayed wildly across the floor, spilling out from the woman like honey as they framed the sharp planes of her face with a warm glow.

  Johanna?
Marie’s heart dropped like an anchor. The small frame, pale skin and golden curls bared a startling resemblance to the young servant girl that had saved Marie and Alex from being discovered at by Cailene and Prince Marcel. “It can’t be!” The person before her was a woman, not a child. Still, logic didn’t mollify the sinking feeling in her gut. “Please, please, please don’t be her!” She squeezed her eyes shut so tight that a throbbing pain branched out across the bridge of her nose. If it weren’t for Johanna, Marie and Alex probably wouldn’t have made it out of the castle alive. She deserved a better fate than
this
.

  Marie apprehensively slid the candle toward the woman’s face.

  “What the?” She flung herself back, knocking the candle on its side. Her scream grew trapped in her throat, trying to claw itself free with a raspy gargle.

  Using the curtains for leverage, she frantically pulled herself to her feet, unable to peel her eyes from the disfigured creature before her. There was a blank slate where the woman’s face should be; a diaphanous canvas of ashen cellophane stretched tight across her frail bones.

  “Who could’ve done this to you?” Marie felt the burn of bile in the back of her throat. “How are you still alive? My god, how are you
breathing
?” she croaked.

  To the left of her, a slow hiss evolved into a steady sizzle as heady tendrils of black smoke wafted up her nostrils, demanding her immediate attention. She watched in horror as vibrant flames eagerly laced across the wall, eviscerating the macabre decor draped lazily across the carved stone, smoldering like brimstone.

  The fire coiled around them like a snake posed to strike, lashing them with waves of heat that nearly brought Marie to her knees. An opaque smoke billowed out from the growing barricade of flames, filling her lungs like sand and anchoring her to the ground as she dropped to her stomach, retching and coughing.

  Every breath gave way to a slow burn, scorching the back of her throat as the intense heat licked her face. Tears exploded from the corners of her eyes, burning like acid as they wove a path down her swollen cheeks. The flames escalated alongside her fear as she became lost in the sea of fire, desperately searching the rapid current for a place to catch her breath.

  Marie bolted upright, emerging from the flames as gloriously as a phoenix rising from the ashes. Not far in the distance, she caught the barest glimpse of a set of large doors, as hazy as an afterthought from a dream.

  She dropped to her hands and knees in search of the woman, scraping her palms along the jagged stone until they were bloody and throbbing. She couldn’t leave that poor creature to burn to death in her own personal hell.

  Plumes of thick, black smoke blanketed the ceiling, spitting out charred debris as if expelling poison. The torrential downpour of ash incited an angry roar that swept across the flames and ignited several explosions of heat. Marie couldn’t see the woman anywhere.

  “I’ll get help!” she called out on the off-chance the woman was conscious. She hoped to god she wasn’t.

  Marie kept her head down and dragged herself forward by her elbows. She winced when the sizzling stone floor cut into her flesh, immediately veining out in blisters. She deadened herself to the pain and propelled herself forward through the stifling air, feeling as if she were swimming through boiling cement.

  Marie came to an abrupt stop when her face collided with a hard surface. She fought the dizzying feeling threatening to leave her here to die, and grasped at tepid whispers of air that breathed respite as she struggled to her feet.

  She put all of her weight behind her next movement, and shouldered the doors open with a loud bang. The fresh, crisp air filled her lungs, as soothing as ice melting over a burn.

  “Help!” Marie tried to scream, but her voice was nothing more than a gravely whisper.

  “Still your tongue!” Marie’s ears perked at a faint whisper. Soft, yet demanding. Her eyes lazily scrolled over the painfully white interior, only to discover that she was alone. “Brace yourself and look down!” the voice hissed impatiently.

  Marie jerked her head down and swallowed the sudden rise of vomit. The realization of her surroundings cut into her like a knife, deflating her lungs instantly. This was the last place in the world she wanted to be. Quinque castle, crouched over the Floor of Faces.

  “I’m dreaming,” Marie said decidedly. “This is a nightmare. It has to be!” She scrambled back and tucked herself into the corner, doing her damnedest to ignore the agony of those writhing beneath her, screaming pains of protest.

  “Hush! This is no time for hysterics! You did me a favor by destroying my body in the fire, and now I shall do you one,” Marie looked down to see the detached face of a young woman speaking to her, woven into the grotesque tapestry. Her resemblance to Johanna stole Marie’s breath away.

  “The body I found in the last room...It was yours?” The woman’s face somberly nodded. “I
destroyed
you?” Marie blanched. “Oh god. Oh god, I’m so sorry!” Marie stammered unintelligibly through a sudden outpour of tears.

  “Shed no tears on my account! You
saved
me!” the woman smiled as her face began to slowly disappear.

  “How did I
save
you?”

  “You destroyed my body,” the words lanced through Marie a second time, carving out her insides and leaving her hollow. “I am no longer Marcel’s doll. I can
finally
rest!”

  “I don’t understand…”

  “There’s no time to explain,” the woman’s face continued to fade until it became nothing more than tendrils of smoke dancing through the air.

  “There’s never any time!” Marie screamed, beating her fists against the wall.

  “You will know the truth soon enough. This I have foreseen. We’ve but a moment,” panic crept into the woman’s voice as the echo of footfalls rang through the halls. “An emerald will appear in my place. It is what’s left of my life force. Take it! Speak the word
révéyé
, and it will return you safely,” the woman’s pleading tone wrested Marie’s attention away from the surrounding faces, bellowing in anguish.

  Marie closed her fingers around the stone as soon as it began to materialize. Cailene’s puppets poured in through the doors and descended upon her like water crashing against the rocks. She slammed her eyes shut and cradled the emerald close to her chest.

  “Révéyé! Révéyé! Révéyé!” Marie screamed the words so fast they slurred together.

  “Marie!” Alex’s voice reverberated through her mind. The force of will behind it shook her awake. “It’s okay! You’re safe!” She languidly opened her eyes to see Alex, Cayden and Raeph huddled over her, their faces wrought with worry.

  That was all a dream?
A confused smile slowly crept across her face, filling the others with relief.

  “I told you not to take too many of those damn pills!” Raeph scolded.

  Marie felt the hot prickle of tears sting her eyes as her temper rose. She could still feel the heat of the flames licking her face with agonizing slowness. Her skin was still tender from scraping bare flesh over searing stone, simmering like hot embers.

  She reflexively clenched her fists. A sharp pain dug into her right palm and lanced up her arm. She was still holding the emerald. It wasn’t just a dream.

  “You’ve been unconscious for a long time. We were quite worried. Especially when you grew hot to the touch. Your fever seems to have diminished completely upon your awakening, though,” Cayden placed his cool palm over her clammy flesh, surprisingly soft for the calloused hands of a skilled warrior. “It’s odd, really.”

  “I find it stranger that she woke up screaming in tongues,” Raeph flinched.

  “She wasn’t speaking in tongues,” Cayden half-smiled. “She was speaking the language of the Rebels.
Révéyé
means
wake
,” he explained. “Speaking of which, how did you come to know that word?” There was an impatient edge to his voice that put Marie ill at ease.

  “How do
you
know that word, Cayden? Soldiers aren’t known to fraternize with extremists,” Raeph countered accusingly before Marie had a chance to answer. He knew better than to talk to his superior that way. His unexplained protectiveness over that damn woman was causing him to act rashly.

  “I am well-versed in the languages of all potential allies,” Cayden shrugged.

  “
Allies
?”

  “Drop it, Raeph.” Alex’s sole concern was Marie, and she was whiter than a sheet. He didn’t have time to referee a political debate.

  “I heard it in my dream,” Marie’s meek admission made the room fall silent.

  Marie held the emerald flush against her chest, mindlessly exploring the smooth facets with her fingertips as she recalled the young woman’s haunting smile. She was
happy
to die. Knowing that didn’t assuage the guilt gnawing at Marie. It devoured her from the inside out and leaked into her expression, despite her best efforts to mask it.

  “People with royal blood,” Marie began. Cerin cut her off without a second thought.

  “It’d be simpler if you refer to us as royals,” he corrected. One of Cerin’s biggest faults was his tendency to talk over and down to people, never directly
to
them.

  “It’d be simpler if you didn’t interrupt me.”
Great
.
Another Amelia
. “Anyway,” she rolled her eyes. “Do
royals
have special talents pertaining to dreams?” Marie had several questions, but she figured she’d start there.