The Agrista (Between the Lines Book 1) (21 page)

  “Oh, would you look at the time? I need to change his bandages. I’ll be but a moment, dears.” Sage politely excused herself and crossed the room to Christopher’s bedside.

  A strangled scream tore through the room as Sage’s knobby fingers deftly removed the young boy’s bandages. Shock tightened her features and ravaged her healthy color as her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

  Marie rushed to her side just in time to catch her. At her age, a nasty fall could be fatal. She helped Sage into a nearby chair and fumbled for a pulse, relieved to feel a faint thrum beating beneath her papery skin. She immediately looked to Cerin for direction.

  Cerin calmly set his tea down and crossed the room to Christopher. He peeled away the viscid bandage to reveal waxy blue skin daubed with a puffy layer of amber. He curiously sniffed the loose dressing before bringing it to his lips and testing it with the tip of his tongue, causing Marie’s stomach to drop as she struggled to hold down her lunch.

  “Honey,” he remarked cheerfully. “Blue is Laylia’s favorite color, you know. Bria must’ve kept that in mind when she dyed the boy’s skin.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Perfectly healthy, I’d wager. Though, I’d like to know for sure,” he added skeptically. “I need Rustroot, Cumber oil, Bitterberry juice, and a mortar and pestle. Sage should have everything we need. Judging by the plethora of plant life and her economic status, I’d say she’s an Herbalist. Pretty ironic, considering her name,” Cerin joked as he rifled through her kitchen. “You’d think being an herbalist would be a more appealing occupation. Financially, I mean. Ovis practically deifies horticulture.”

  “What are you doing?” Marie hissed. “What if she wakes up?”

  “Oh, I believe she already has.” Marie yelped as she waved a hand over Sage’s stony eyes. “She’s catatonic from shock, you see. She won’t remember any of this.” Cerin set to mixing the ingredients, which basically amounted to a potent cosmetic remover.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Pretty sure.”

  “
Pretty
sure? That’s comforting!”

  “Apply this to the boy’s skin while I get a wet cloth.” Marie did as she was told, afraid that Sage might come to at any moment.

  Marie applied a generous amount of the mixture to the boy’s skin, shrinking away from the foul odor that immediately permeated the air. Sure enough, when Cerin scoured the boy’s skin with a wet cloth, flashes of healthy peach shone through.

  It was an extremely tedious process, and they had to rigorously rinse the cloth out every few strokes, but by the time they finished, Christopher looked like a normal boy. Sage remained conveniently catatonic until they’d finished.

  “My boy! He looks normal!” Sage said, astonished, suddenly coming to. “How did you…”

  “The same thing happened to my son. A local doctor from my hometown gave me a formula for his skin that made him all better. At least, in that regard.” It was the best excuse Marie could think of.

  “Interesting,” Sage fixed Marie with a curious stare. “So silly of me, but I seem to have forgotten to ask you where you’re from,” she smiled, flashing little, round teeth worn down to nubs.

  “Agricole.” It was the only town Marie knew of other than Marketown, and there was probably a bounty on their heads there.

  “Pardon me for asking, but why didn’t you stay in Agricole? After all, that’s where the doctor is currently. She won’t arrive in Artifex until tomorrow.
Surely
, you knew?”

  Marie was silent for a moment as Sage tore into her with her determined brown eyes. She was about to break down and tell the truth when Cerin finally spoke up.

  “Carrie’s my sister!” he blurted out, feigning hysteria.

  “We ran away from home,” Marie said, following Cerin’s lead.

  “I thought you looked a little young to be a mother. Still, you’re old enough to know better,” Sage reprimanded.

  “Please don’t send us back!” Cerin melodramatically dropped to his knees, groveling.

  “Please!” Marie fell to her knees beside him and hid her shame with a curtain of loose locks.

  “Our parents beat us!” Cerin lurched forward and pretended to sob into the worn tapestry. He was quite convincing.

  “With little liars like you, I can’t say I blame ‘em!” Sage’s hands were drawn to her hips in a position of scorn. “Your parents must be worried sick about you!” She shook her head, letting her hands fall limp at her sides.

  “I doubt it. The only thing my father will miss is having two live subjects to use for target practice. If I hadn’t taken Darren away when I did, Father would’ve killed him eventually!” Marie hesitated, mentally constructing the details of her story. “We have an aunt in the next town. She’s agreed to take us in.” Sage watched them with a doubtful eye. Marie couldn’t blame her. She didn’t believe their story either.

  “I don’t feel right about it, but you’ve helped me with Christopher, so I suppose I can return the favor,” she sighed. “You can stay in the loft for the night, but I want you gone first thing in the mornin’. I don’t appreciate being lied to, children.”

  Sage prepared a simple dinner of boiled greens and fresh squeezed lemonade that night. The three of them ate in awkward silence, not once raising their eyes from their plates. Sage refused any help when tending to the dishes. Marie did her best to make idle small talk to ease the tension in the room, but received a chilly reception.

  “Aren’t you going to wake your grandson to eat?” she asked softly.

  “He’s been in a coma for two days,” Sage answered coldly, refusing to elaborate. “I think I’ll retire for the night. Everything you need is already in the loft. I suppose I won’t see you in the morning,” Her face suddenly softened. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for Christopher.” Sage bid them goodnight and turned out the lights, forcing them to find their way up the ladder in the pitch black.

  They clambered up the ladder to the loft, and found several blankets and pillows, neatly folded up and piled in the corner. Marie had a hard time imagining little old Sage making her way up here, and wondered how she was fairing without the aid of her young grandson. Marie created a makeshift bed for her and Cerin using all of the blankets and pillows. She propped herself up on her elbow and watched him expectantly.

  “What was the point of today?” She sighed loudly as she settled onto her back.

  “Today wasn’t fruitless! We accomplished our objective. We found out that the plague is fake.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Christopher’s symptoms are all imagined. No, I shouldn’t say that,” he quickly corrected himself. “He may actually be experiencing them. The brain is a powerful organ, and in this case, I believe it’s the culprit. The majority of his symptoms are psychosomatic. The one physical symptom he exuded was nothing more than a heavy application of cosmetics and honey.”

“Okay, but how do you explain the coma?”

  “Ah yes, that,” he nodded. “It’s only a theory,” he prefaced. “I believe Bria administered Sleep Solution so that the child didn’t wake when she applied the cosmetics. He’s a small boy, and I can’t imagine Bria’s very knowledgeable pertaining to medications and their proper dosage. I surmise she overdosed him.”

  “It’s been
days
. Could it have that much of a lasting effect?”

  “Most assuredly. If not counteracted with another substance, he could be unconscious for months. I plan on rousing him awake with Slugsalt in the morning, to confirm my hypothesis and ease my conscience. I don’t want to report back inaccurate information, especially when I’m vulnerable to the sickness myself in this pathetic little body, and in the midst of its breeding grounds.”

  Cerin suddenly went uncharacteristically quiet as he pulled a piece of graphite from one of his many pockets. He began wildly scrawling on a small piece of paper as he hummed cheerily to himself. When he finished, he intricately folded it so that it took on the shape of a bird, and applied a drop of clear liquid from one of a multitude of vials.

  The liquid, which he vaguely referred to as
Flight’s Fancy,
animated the limp parchment. The paper bird got to its feet and flew in the direction of Isabel, where the others were waiting most impatiently.

  “That’s so cool!” Marie peered out the window and watched the bird shrink into the distance.

  “Another invention of mine,” he boasted proudly. “It can be applied to almost any material, but each one requires different amounts of the solution, naturally. You write the longitude and latitude coordinates on the object, apply the potion, and it doesn’t stop until it’s reached its destination. Originally, I invented it for faster communication, but I like to have fun with it every now and then,” he flashed a toothy grin.

  “What did the message say?”

  “I told them that Bria was in Artifex recently. If she’s already moved on to the next town, Laylia should be here tomorrow. If not, she’ll stay put in Agricole. It’s pretty easy to see how they operate.”

  “What happens now?”

  “The others will intercept Laylia before she arrives, and lure Bria to her distress, I assume.”

  “So, we’re finished?” It seemed too easy. “What will happen to all of the children? I know they’re not actually sick, but their parents think they are. Won’t there be mass panic when the doctor doesn’t show up?”

  “Sage is smart. I’ve no doubt she’ll do the neighborly thing and inform the others of what she’s learned. I left a batch of the skin solution on the table, too. As an herbalist, she’ll be able to breakdown the formula. Aside from that, most people will figure it out on their own. While I’ve learned that people often aren’t as smart as I’d like them to be, they’re smarter than I give them credit for. Eventually, they’ll realize their kids aren’t dying, and life will go back to normal.”

  “Cerin?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you have something in your millions of pockets that can keep nightmares away?”

  “Not yet, but I’ll look into it,” he was already running through theories and constructing formulas in his mind before he’d finished speaking, not even taking the time to consider
why
Marie had asked the question.

  “I appreciate it, but it doesn’t help me tonight,” she whispered into her pillow.

ACCORDING TO PLAN

 
W
isps of sunlight broke through the clouds and bled into the horizon, spilling over the rolling hills like liquid gold. A steady stream of bright light poured in through the large window of the loft, dappling Marie’s face with shadows of fire. The rush of welcome heat pried her tired eyes open to face the first breath of morning.

  “You snore.” Marie jumped at the sound of Cerin’s voice. It was obvious by his wide eyes and chipper tone that he’d been awake for some time now.

  “No I don’t!”

  “You do.”

  “If I snore, Amelia would’ve told me.”

  “She was probably too polite to say anything.”

 
Amelia, too polite? Ha!
“Obviously, you don’t have that problem,” she said dryly.

  “Your snoring kept me up all night. Making you aware of your obtrusive deficiency is my way of retaliating,” he grinned impishly.

  “Obtrusive deficiency?” she rolled her eyes. “Humph. Well,
you’re
an intellectual snob!”

  “I won’t deny your assessment, but I can’t say that I agree. I think you simply misunderstand me.”

  “Ugh. I’m too tired for this! Let’s get going before Sage wakes up. I can’t bear to see that look on her face again, and I have a feeling she’s an early riser.”

  “Fine by me,” Cerin whispered as he slithered down the loft ladder.

  Cerin carefully tiptoed around Christopher’s bedside and showily waved an open vial of Slugsalt under his nose. The boy sputtered to life like an old car engine, hacking and coughing as he regarded the goofily smiling stranger at the foot of his bed with the utmost confusion.

  Cerin decided it was more fun to keep the child guessing, and offered no explanation as he sauntered away and forced Marie out the door, gently closing it behind him. Aside from sprinting across the property line to avoid Sage’s inevitable inquiry, the two of them were in no rush to get back to the ship and slowed to a leisurely pace once they reached town.

  While Cerin preferred cities – a hotbed of delicious sin, as he put it – and had no desire to linger here, he wanted even less to be stuffed into a tin box like a smelly little fish, and that’s exactly how he felt on
Isa-hell
, the name graciously provided by his little sister that he immediately took a liking to.

  They admired the colorful scenery as they strolled down several side paths, lengthening their route by quite some time. Artifex’s summer looked a lot like New York’s fall, but far exceeded the range of colors that illuminated the shaggy tree line. An artist would have a field day drawing inspiration from the foliage of Ovis, though Marie surmised they might find their palette lacking.

  Marie was a little sad to leave Ovis. Things were simpler here, and it reminded her of home far more than any other place they’d been. Magic – albeit nothing short of remarkable – made her feel disconnected from her surroundings and the people in them. She wasn’t able to harness it herself, and it made her feel like even more of a failure than she did back home.

  She let out a shaky sigh as the outline of the ship came into view, just past the ridge of the next hilltop. She stopped and took a moment to admire her surroundings, reluctantly leaving them behind as she marched toward the ship with faltering exertion.

  “I don’t want to be here, but I want to be
there
even less,” Cerin nodded toward the ship.

  “Yeah, I’m so sick of that damn ship.”

  “There is a silver lining, though.”

  “What’s that?” she chortled, somewhat hysterically.

  “The fact that the ship is no longer in Stealth Mode signifies that they no longer need to hide. They must’ve found Bria
and
Laylia. We can go home,” he sighed contentedly.

  “Home,” she pondered. “Where
is
home?”

  “Nowhere particular for me. I go where the action is.”

  “Ha! I go where the action
isn’t
.”

  Marie slowed her steps when she saw a stranger looming in the doorway of the ship, grinning from ear to ear. Bria, she assumed. She would have to be extra careful to refer to Bria as a
she
. Her appearance screamed
him,
despite her obvious effort to mask the truth with layers of vibrant polyester.

  Bria had broad shoulders, narrow hips, and feet the size of rowboats. Her fingers and toes were as plump as sausages and twice as long. She wore a skintight dress that was meant to flatter the
female
form, and hugged her body in all the wrong places.

  Deep-set brown eyes interlaced with lavender and burgundy complimented her olive skin, coated heavily with several layers of bronzer that elongated her slightly crooked hooknose. Apparently, Bria had been in a tangle or two in her day, which came as a bit of a surprise, considering how harmless she looked in her flamboyant attire.

  A mop of synthetic red curls swept across the sharp cheekbones of her wide face, matching the crimson blush generously applied to the apples of her cheeks. A rich rouge accentuated her full lips, constantly turned up into an impish grin that hinted at a flare for drama. 

  “You better turn back now if you’re afraid of a little action! Now that
I’m
here, I’m going to spice up this drab little ship. There’s no telling what’ll happen if I get a moment alone with our sexy captain!” Bria winked. “Sorry, Raephy, baby. I know you love this dinky little thing, though I’ll never understand why!” Bria had a flamboyant way of speaking. She drew out all of her words with punishing slowness, adding extra syllables here and there while accentuating her S’s with a forced lisp. “I suppose it has its own brand of charm. It
could
be rather romantic!” she giggled, forgetting about Marie and Cerin as she traipsed over to Raeph with an awkward sway. He looked utterly terrified.

  Bria buried the back of Raeph’s head in the generous slope of her breasts, enveloping his face and boxing his ears with the extraordinary large – albeit exceptionally firm – mounds.

 
Maybe I should help him.
Considering how Raeph had abandoned Marie in the pub earlier, maybe not.
Serves him right,
she thought smugly.

  Marie found herself shamelessly watching the two of them as Raeph struggled against Bria’s bulging muscles, wondering if her breasts were implants. They looked real enough.

  “They’re not real. It’s an enhanced breastplate.” Laylia seemed to suddenly materialize behind Marie, giggling.

  “They totally
feel
real! You wanna feel ‘em?” Bria spun her body around to face the two of them.

 
She’s
Laylia’s Umbra?
Marie tried not to laugh as Bria charged toward them with her arms effeminately high at her sides.

  “Sure, why not? This is a strange introduction, though.” Marie awkwardly gave Bria’s breast an obligatory squeeze. When she didn’t give her immediate assessment, Bria filled in the blanks for her.

  “You don’t think so?” She nervously pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “I suppose yours
are
softer,” she said as she squeezed Marie’s breast, not even thinking to ask for permission.

  “Hey, this game looks like fun. I wanna play too!” Raeph said wolfishly.

  “You can squeeze
me
anytime, Raephy!” Bria’s giggle coaxed a shudder from Raeph and a smile from Alex.

  “Obviously, you’re Mariella. If you haven’t guessed, I’m Laylia, and this is Bria,” the petite female flipped her gauzy, blonde hair in introduction.

“It’s not the other way around?” Marie teased.

  “No,” Laylia snorted. “I like you,” she suddenly cocked her head as she examined Marie. “I’ve always wanted a sister, you know!” Laylia gathered Marie in an unexpected hug.

  “Fallon’s your sister,” Marie pointed out as she uncomfortably shimmied out of Laylia’s grasp.

  “She’s more like a brother,” Laylia whispered with a sidelong glance at Fallon, and the two of them beginning giggling like little school girls.

  “I heard that!” Fallon nonchalantly sent a pocketknife spiraling through the air, toward Laylia’s face. Bria skillfully caught it between her fingers without turning her gaze from Raeph. It seemed she was a
very
capable protector, after all.

  Laylia was, simply put, adorable. No taller than five feet and no more than one-hundred pounds, she had a small waist, wide hips, and small, perky breasts. Tendrils of silvery blonde hair swept across the small of her back and framed her pale, heart-shaped face, making her exotic hazel eyes pop with verdant brilliance.

  A natural shade of rose illuminated her rounded cheeks, giving her a youthful glow that softened her features. Her plump lips formed a perfect cupid’s bow that was always smiling; a little too much to seem genuine. At first glance, she looked barely out of her teens, but when Marie took a closer look, she looked every bit her age of thirty-two by the worry lines gently woven into her forehead.

  Laylia suddenly took a step back, as if offended by Marie’s appearance. Her small, pink mouth twisted into a moue of disapproval as she looked Marie over appraisingly. The scrutiny of her gaze stripped Marie naked. Bria quickly joined in, unafraid to express her outrage verbally.

  “
What
are you wearing?” Bria spun Marie in a circle and clicked her tongue in distaste.

 
She’s one to talk!
“I didn’t
choose
this outfit. I was undercover!”    

  “Thank god for that!” Bria guffawed.

  “Bria, be nice,” Laylia laughed. “Come with me, sister.” Laylia didn’t wait for an answer as she dragged Marie into the bathroom, practically kicking and screaming. “I’m going to give you a makeover!” she announced excitedly. “Though I wish we had better quarters for it. Oh well!” She firmly grasped Marie’s shoulders and forced her down on the toilet.

  “No, that’s quite alright!” Marie avidly shook her head.

  “We’re stuck on this ship for the next few days. What else is there to do?” she reasoned devilishly. “Do you not trust me?” Laylia asked, suddenly serious.

  “I don’t
know
you yet.”

  “Well, if you
did
know me, you’d know that I’m as stubborn as a Dooble, and I won’t stop pestering you until you say yes.”

  “Ugh. Fine!”

  “Yay!”

  After an eternity of plucking, scrubbing, twisting and pulling, Marie felt like she’d spent the last few hours being scalped. Her hair had been intricately braided down the side, and the ends whorled out in loose waves that softly cascaded over her right shoulder.

  It was simple, yet elegant, much like the cosmetics Laylia applied. Light browns and natural pinks accentuated Marie’s natural glow, though if she were to see herself, she’d be unrecognizable.

  “Finished!”

  “I’m in pain,” Marie grimaced.

  “You know, I’ve been slaving away for hours, so I hope that’s your version of a
thank you
.”

  “Sorry,” Marie laughed bashfully. “It’s just that my head hurts and I’m numb from the waist down,” she shifted uncomfortably.

  “Well, I’m not done torturing you just yet!” Laylia flashed her perfect white teeth in a sadistic smile that made Marie quail. “We still have to find the perfect ensemble,” she tacked on cheerfully, pulling a small wooden box from the folds of her dress, where she seemed to mysteriously store everything.

  The box was no bigger than the tip of her pinky. She placed it in the center of the floor, dabbled a few drops of hot water over it and jumped back. The box instantly stretched to the entire length of the room and half the width, causing Marie to inhale sharply as she spryly jumped to her feet and parried away.

  “What is it?” Marie asked.

  “An armoire.”

  “How did you…”

  “Magic,” Laylia said simply. “I see no one has taught you how to use yours. We can’t do much, really. None of us have mastered it quite like Cerin, and even he’s rather out of his league. Don’t tell him
I
said that, though. He’d see it as a challenge, and who knows what mishap he’d cause!” she laughed. “It’s really just cheap parlor tricks here and there. Our abilities pale in comparison to what the Umbra can do, but it’s enough to make life a little more interesting, and a
lot
easier. I can teach you, if you’d like.”

  “Really? I would
love
that!”

  “Choose something.” Laylia sidestepped and jerked her head toward the armoire.

  There wasn’t much room to work with, but Marie did her best. The armoire was filled with nearly two dozen dresses in a variety of colors. Each one was breathtakingly beautiful.
Not that I’m into that sort of thing,
she sternly reminded herself.