by Nina Walker
“You too, Jessa,” I said. “You can’t fight.”
She shook her head. “I won’t.”
I kissed her one last time. Then I snatched what was left of the gray and white rose from the floor, went invisible as quickly as possible, and returned to my room.
The next morning, I woke early with complete clarity. I knew what I had to do.
17
Jessa
I floated on dreams all night and well into the morning. Dreams about Lucas and growing old together. Dreams about reuniting with my family. Dancing again, always, the dreams had dancing. Every time my consciousness pushed me toward waking, I was pulled back under. Back into the weightless surrender.
Lacey is learning to walk. Her chubby fingers grip onto my index fingers. They feel warm, sweaty. She toddles between my legs as we shuffle across the living room.
“Look, Dad, she’s doing it.” I laugh.
She peers up at me, startled by my laugh, I think. Her blond hair is curly around her face, like a halo. It reminds me of a wig because it’s only a few inches long. Her blue eyes mirror my own.
“My girls.” Dad smiles, and we walk toward him. One step. Two steps. Three. Four.
When we’re only a couple away, I slip my fingers from her grip. She hardly notices, finishing the final few on her own before plunging into the safety of Dad’s arms.
Mom stands over me as I sit on the bathroom counter.
“Let me see,” she says, motioning to my feet.
I have big socks on, and after a moment, I peel them off one at a time. There are blisters on almost every toe, above my heel is rubbed raw, and the whole foot is beet red. “How long has it been like this?” she asks.
I shrug. I don’t want her to get mad because I don’t want her to make me stop.
“I’m going to talk to your teacher,” she says. “See if we can get you a better fitting pair of pointe shoes next time.” I exhale a sigh of relief. “You didn’t think I was going to make you quit, did you?” she asks. “I would never do that to you, Jessa. I know how much you love this. I’m proud of you, honey.”
I stick my feet in the sink, running cold water over the sores. I know the pain might not be temporary. Battered feet are part of ballet. Still, it’s so worth it.
The dreams continued. Fragmented memories mixed with hope. Some made no sense and then perfect sense in the way dreams often did. What mattered was the right people were there. What mattered was how it felt. The sunlight started to pitter-patter across my face. I could feel the warmth pouring in, asking a question—but I wasn’t ready to answer it.
I rolled over.
I run along behind her, my bare feet smoothing the dewy grass. The light filters between the trees, catching her blond hair. Her laugh has a way of calling to me. I want to play. She is taller than me, so I have to hurry to catch up. My legs are still chubby. Hers are sticks.
“Show me,” I say, grabbing at a dandelion. She looks around, back at the house, at the fence.
“Come,” she says, taking off again.
We go to our favorite spot: the trees where no one can see us. The place where it’s safe to play.
“Show me,” I ask again. Does she hear me? Does she know what I want? I push the flower at her, but she already has one in her hand. She smiles, and we sit, our knees touching.
“Don’t tell anyone,” she says. She squeezes the dandelion; the yellow comes off in her hand. It floats into the air, hovering just between us.
“Magic.” I giggle.
“Shh…” she says, blowing it toward me.
When it hits, I erupt into a fit of laughter. I suddenly have the best idea. “Let’s climb the tree. I go, up, up, up.”
“No,” she says. But I’ve already gone. It was easy. I’m high. So high. Too high. I’m scared to come down. I start to scream. “Frankie! Jessa!” Someone calls. Mom? I scream again. I want down.
“What is she doing all the way up there?” someone says. “How was that possible for her to move that fast?”
It’s not Mom.
I sat up, my breath rushing out of me. The dreams were all so vivid, so real, but that last one was something else. And it wasn’t the first time I’d had it, either. I climbed out of bed and I attempted to tame the mane that is my hair after sleeping on it wet. I couldn’t rid my mind of the images. The dandelion. The girl.
Was it a recurring dream or a memory?
I tried to grab onto the last fragments of it, but with every minute, the dream slipped farther and farther from my mind. I held onto the memory of my mother calling my name. That was right, wasn’t it? And whom else had she been calling for? I couldn’t quite remember well enough. But it felt important.
I stretched my body for a moment, then flopped out of bed. Next, I opened my closet and dressed in the same thing I wore almost every day. At least it was comfortable. Checking the time, I groaned when I realized I’d slept through breakfast. I had combat training every morning and needed to get moving. Combat didn’t scare me nearly as much as it used to, and today would be no different, even though most of the best fighters had been whisked away for the war. Plus, Branson was gone.
I went through the motions of training in a bit of a daze. Slumped against the wall, I sipped at my water bottle and took in the remaining alchemists who populated the gym. Part of me was training, going to class, going through the motions. The other part was wondering where Lucas was, wondering how we were possibly going to make it work. And I was absolutely giddy about last night, which was foolish. But I couldn’t help it.
I sighed and wiped at the sweat on my neck with a towel.
I trusted him; he would figure it out. I couldn’t wait until the day when we didn’t have to hide our relationship anymore. And then another part of me was solely focused on the night to come. The initiation. I would swear my allegiance to the monarchy and perform a task in front of my peers. And then? The Resistance would do…something.
It was almost time, and whatever happened, I was ready. Throwing my towel and bottle to the side, I pushed off the wall and strode forward with confidence.
I brushed at invisible wrinkles in my satin gown. The dress was midnight black and hugged my torso in a sweetheart neckline, leaving my shoulders bare. It tapered out at the hips and ended just above the knees. Delivered in a velvet box, it had arrived courtesy of the king, along with strappy black heels and a gorgeous diamond necklace. I’d put the ensemble together and even spent an hour painstakingly straightening my hair. After applying smoky eye makeup and red lipstick, I’d been pleased when I’d left my room. And more than a little nervous.
I clutched the invitation in my hand, once more checking that I was at the correct entrance. I allowed myself a moment to breathe, then pushed open the doors and walked inside. Blinking, I stared wide-eyed at the scene before me. It was more than I expected. The place was packed, the ballroom filled with round tables and a sea of faces. White tablecloths adorned each one and a colorful floral centerpiece was placed identically in each center. All the guardians in residence were already seated, as were the officers.
In tandem, the whole room turned to face me.
I grimaced but quickly recovered with a smile. I quickly realized that since the invitation had been so specific about when and where I entered, I shouldn’t be surprised to see everyone already seated, expecting me.
“And here is the guest of honor,” King Richard’s voice boomed through the speakers. Applause rang out, and I gave a little wave. Richard stood at a podium on top of a stage that appeared to be set up just in front of me. I quickly moved to join him and he continued. “Please, join the royal family for our meal, and then we’ll get started. A little magical presentation during dessert, anyone?” The crowd tittered; I was going to puke.
Apparently the initiation meant I had to perform magic in front of everyone and swear my allegiance to the royal family. I could do it. Breathe. I scanned the crowd, frozen to the spot, when Lucas caught my eye. He nodded to me, smiling. I scurried
off the stage to join his table below, sitting across from him and his fiancée. She smiled warmly at me, and my stomach seized. Richard joined us at that moment, taking the seat next to mine.
“You know, Jessa,” he said, “you’re a very special girl. It’s usually the case that alchemists are initiated into the Guardians of Color once a year. We put on a big production that they all get to share. But you get the spotlight all to yourself tonight.”
“Congratulations,” Celia purred.
I quickly glanced her way, muttering my thanks, before turning back to my food. Her hand wrapped around Lucas’s upper arm didn’t go unnoticed.
“She is a special girl.” Lucas smiled. My gaze shot to him, and I was unable to speak. His eyes glowed as he stared at me. He didn’t try to hide it, even in front of Celia or Richard. My cheeks flamed, and I bit back my smile. He was gorgeous, of course—he always was—but dressed immaculately in a tux with his hair styled to messy-perfection and a cleanly shaved face was a really good look on him.
We ate a four-course dinner but I hardly swallowed a bite. I contributed almost nothing to the conversation. I was too nervous. Nervous to be at this table. To do the magic. To even be here. Whatever I was asked to do, I prayed I wouldn’t make a fool out of myself. I couldn’t even think about what would happen with the Resistance afterward; it sent my nerves into overdrive.
“Time to go,” King Richard said into my ear before standing and heading to the podium.
I took a deep breath. Lucas nodded, and I allowed myself to be comforted—if only for a moment. Then I followed Richard onto the stage.
“My friends,” the king said, “it is a special occasion that we get to initiate Jessa into our family. The Guardians of Color have long been a pillar of this kingdom, serving in a variety of important roles. It is because of you that we are so strong. Though you may stay out of the public eye, you are the cornerstone of our society. Thank you for all that you do.”
The crowd applauded.
“And a big thanks as well to the officers.” He motioned to their tables. Only a small fraction was in attendance, which sent a little wave of shock through me. I assumed the rest were helping with the war effort. But the palace was normally swarming with officers, and there were only a few tables of officers tonight. “Without your steadfast commitment to the law, none of this would be possible.” More clapping. “Jessa came to us in less than desirable circumstances. As most of you know, she accidentally manipulated color during a ballet performance. Luckily for her, we were able to bring her in and train her like one of our own.”
I climbed the five steps to the stage and stood next to the king. I smiled, hoping my discomfort was well hidden. It seemed the way he remembered how I was “brought in” and the way I remembered it were two different things. Typical.
“Now, I think it’s time we dim the lights and get started, don’t you?”
More clapping, even a few cheers from the alchemists. I blinked, somewhat amazed at the sound. Turned out, I’d come a long way with my peers over the last few months.
As the lights dimmed, a spotlight illuminated the stage. I was dizzy. Momentarily blinded. A longing burned in my chest. Memory. In my life before the palace, this feeling was accompanied by a ballet performance. The lights created a cocoon around the stage, shrouding the audience in darkness. It used to be a comfort for me, made it easier for me to relax. This time, the nerves didn’t go away; they only increased. Everyone was watching, and I couldn’t watch them back.
“Jessa passed green, orange, and yellow alchemy.” Richard’s voice vibrated around the room.
Someone must have removed him from the stage, because I was alone now. Frozen. Dazed under the lights. Alone on the stage. But not alone. Hundreds of eyes blinked back at me.
“She also showed signs of strong aptitude in purple. But what is most curious about her is a couple of unique abilities. Abilities we hope to study and replicate in more guardians. You see, when we first met her, she had inadvertently pulled the purple from her dress—a feat not uncommon, even though it wasn’t the organic materials that come easiest with magic. No, it was the fact that the purple separated into primary colors: blue and red. Now that was rather impressive.”
The crowd broke into whispers. They’d heard the rumors, of course, but this confirmed it.
“We haven’t since replicated the act, but we will,” Richard continued. The way he said it wasn’t in disappointment; it was calm, assured. As if he was bragging about me: I was his possession, a new toy, and he’d almost figured me out.
An icy chill trickled down my spine, but I stood taller.
“However, we were able to conclude that she can manipulate red.” More whispers followed his words. “Would you like to see it in action?”
They cheered, a thrum of nervous excitement rushed through the room.
Oh, no. I don’t know if I can do this.
Part of me had wondered if Richard would continue to keep my red alchemy a secret.
Guess not.
Still, something nagged at me. He wanted to replicate it in others, sure, but that didn’t mean he could. If it were true that he’d had access to this magic on and off over the years, he’d have already done that. Right? So why this big show? I fought the urge to run.
“Jessa, darling girl, are you ready?”
No! But I nodded. I had to do whatever he wanted. I ignored the ocean of panic that was rising, pushing it down.
“Now, I think her favorite teacher would be a wonderful help to us today. Who better to help demonstrate this than the woman who has taught you so much?” Richard purred. “Jasmine, please join us on stage. That is if you don’t mind.”
I gasped. I wanted to shake my head, to refuse, but my entire body was frozen to the spot. I had to play along.
Someone shuffled from the back of the room, and molten fear rolled through my body, creeping and hot. No! I couldn’t do this to her of all people, it was too dangerous. What if I hurt her? What if she revealed her true identity?
“Ah, here she comes,” Richard continued. His voice sounded as charismatic as ever, but I couldn’t bear to look at his expression. “Please give her a round of applause.”
The crowd clapped, but the applause was stilted. Slow. Nobody knew what this meant. Even testing red alchemy on someone felt wrong to me. Did they think so too? But this? Jasmine was one of the most respected alchemists in the community.
She ambled to the stage, a warm smile lighting her face. When she finally looked at me, a flash of something crossed her eyes. Something controlled. I didn’t understand. What was I supposed to do?
“Please, Jasmine, have a seat.”
A chair was brought onto the stage. I barely noticed as someone placed something in my palm. I looked down at it, my stomach turning. A small knife. The blade glistened in the spotlight.
“Red alchemy has long been sought after. We know that red is connected to belonging, family, and loyalty,” Richard said. I finally glanced over at him, taking in his animated gestures as he spoke. “What’s interesting is we haven’t been able to do much with red materials, flowers, plants, rocks, and such. But blood, on the other hand, for some that is a different story.”
I bit my lip, sucking in a breath.
“Jessa, please show us.”
I stared at Jasmine, willing her to do something. Tell me what to do! She reached up and took the knife from me. I was barely holding it. Then she smiled at me, her eyes sad, and she cut herself across the arm. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Just do your best and everything will work out.”
The knife clattered to the floor.
I fought back tears and reached for her arm. The blood wet my hand, slick and metallic. I cleared my mind, took a deep breath, feeling as the magic weaved its way into her blood. It pulsed out in tendrils of red magic and then shot up her arm. She jerked.
The crowd cheered, once again, as red alchemy swirled into the air. I expected Richard to interject and order me to tel
l her to do one thing or another, but he didn’t. I wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. I needed to show them what was possible with red alchemy. The more I pulled the red from her blood, the more side effects she would have.
I pushed the red magic farther into her, felt the power surging through me as well. “Dance!” I called.
Immediately, she stood and began to move to a beat only she could hear.
“Freeze!”
She did, one leg balanced in the air.
“Sit down.”
She sat right there on the floor.
“What’s your name?”
“Jasmine,” she replied, calm.
“Where do you live?”
“The palace.”
“Go and sit in your chair.”
And now we’re done, right? I looked out in the crowd, took a little bow, and made my way toward the edge of stage.
“Not so fast, Jessa,” the king sing-songed. His voice echoed through the room. I stopped. “That was a charming little presentation of red alchemy. As you can see, manipulating the color out of a person’s own blood and then using it on them allows for mind control.” The crowd was utterly silent. The room even had a faint echo. “Now, I’m curious. Do you think we could control someone enough to tell us the truth?”
Terror gripped my entire body. No. I couldn’t do this. I shook my head. “It’s used for actions. Blue is used for communication,” I protested.
The king laughed as he strolled over to me, carrying the microphone in his hand now. “Blue is very useful, that is true. Persuasion, listening, trying to figure out if someone is being honest. But red, now, I think red takes it to a new level, don’t you?”
“I don’t know,” I breathed. What was I supposed to do? Run?
“I think you do know,” he said. “But no matter, let’s find out. Go to Jasmine, put your hand back on her wound, and repeat what I tell you. Got it?”
I stared at the room, blinking rapidly. Would someone save me? Where was the Resistance? Shouldn’t they be here by now? Something was wrong.
