by Nina Walker
She didn’t say more, just busied herself making a pot of tea, as if it was no big deal that she was entertaining what was left of the Resistance.
“I’ll let Mastin know we want to be picked up as soon as possible,” he said. “We’re going to have to travel on foot tomorrow to get to the drop point. It’s not safe in the capitol city, for obvious reasons.”
As if any of this is safe.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the teakettle. First the buzz of water boiling, and then the high-pitched whistle as the steam built inside. I felt like that teakettle, like I too was about to burst open.
“You ought to head out tomorrow. The snow will keep most people inside and the exhibition is happening down south. That’s a pretty good distraction if you ask me.” Sally said with a cackle. She smiled conspiratorially and joined us at the table, placing piping-hot mugs in front of us with a soft thud. The sweet scent of lavender and chamomile filled the air. I took a deep breath and wrapped my shaking hands around the mug. I needed to relax, really think this through.
As much as it terrified me, Sally was right. Tomorrow was our best chance.
I nodded, meeting her honey eyes, and took a long sip. I allowed everything to sink in just as the hot tea warmed my thawing body. “Tomorrow it is. We’ll leave at first light.”
I should have known it wouldn’t be easy. Getting out of the palace was simpler than I would have imagined. Tristan already being at the safe house was the last thing I’d expected to find there. But life wasn’t easy, and I knew better than to assume luck was on our side. I leaned back against the seat and gripped the seatbelt strap that cut across my chest.
Our truck ambled along the snow-packed road. My heart raced at every turn, sure that we were going to hit ice and lose control. Tristan kept his eyes glued in front of him and his hand squeezing my knee. Somehow the torturous snow had become our salvation.
“How are you doing back there?” Jerry asked.
“Just fine,” I muttered.
Tristan was more amicable, as was his way. He leaned forward, his face right behind Jerry’s left shoulder. “Hanging in there. How much longer?”
“Oh, I’d say another hour, at least.” Jerry was a weathered man. He had cracked knuckles and calloused hands from years of manual labor. He was also an old friend to Sally, and an ally to the Resistance.
“Good man.” Tristan patted the back of Jerry’s seat before sinking down into the cracked bench seat where we’d hunkered down for the journey. It was slow going, the snow picking up every now and then, flying past our window. As soon as it would start, it would stop, but that did little to relieve my stress. The roads were beyond anything I’d driven on before.
Sally had been able to connect with Jerry as soon as we’d made our decision to meet Mastin at the drop point. The hardest part of our journey had been the walk. We’d had to amble through the city streets for two miles. Public transport would have been simple, but that wasn’t an option, so it was on foot to meet Jerry and hope he turned out to be someone we could trust.
The three of us had been in the pickup for four hours, Jerry at the wheel. There wasn’t a lot of chitchat. Not because we didn’t have anything to say, I could have talked Tristan’s ear off. It was Jerry. I didn’t know him. He was a necessary evil, someone I didn’t want to let in on any extra information. Not to mention, the terrible roads kept my anxiety at maximum level. Tristan seemed to handle it like a pro, but me? I was jumpy and stiff all at the same time. It made my stomach ball into a tight knot by the time Jerry pulled off the road.
“This is it,” he said. “These are the coordinates you gave me.”
“Thanks man,” Tristan said.
“Good luck.”
Tristan swung open the door with a loud squeak and we jumped out of the tall truck. Our boots sunk into the snowdrifts, the cold wrapped over us once again, and we trudged into an open field. There was nothing here but snow.
Jerry didn’t wait. With a quick salute and nod, he backed his truck around and drove away. The fumes of exhaust were all that was left, and soon, even that was gone.
We huddled close and waited. What if they don’t make it? What if we freeze to death out here? The thoughts circled my mind like vultures.
Something faint sounded in the distance. A thudding echo.
“There!” Tristan pointed to a black speck in the otherwise white sky.
The West American chopper came in fast and low, until it was right above us. A door slid open and a ladder rolled out in uneven movements, the end landing at our feet. The noise of the rudder screamed through the landscape as I took the ladder first, Tristan close behind. We toppled into the belly of the chopper and a bulky soldier slid the door closed behind us.
“Ready to go?” he yelled.
We nodded and fell back into the seats, strapping our harnesses as the helicopter swooped up and away.
It was all so easy. Again, I should have known better.
I sat next to Tristan, my head resting on his warm shoulder, watching the landscape fly by in a stream of endless white. There were two other men, West American soldiers, and a pilot up front. They’d introduced themselves, but I’d quickly forgotten their names, too overcome with exhaustion to retain much. My body was still cold, and now that the anxiety of the day was melting away, the heat of my nerves was easing as well.
Mastin isn’t here. I studied the thought in my mind, turning it over. Why did it bother me so much? Why did I care that he hadn’t come along?
My stomach gave a little tug. It was stupid. Not important. He had other things to do and these guys were certainly capable. They’d picked us up on time, hadn’t they? Still, the thought bothered me. And it bothered me that it bothered me!
Something pinged off the side of the chopper with a clatter.
“What was that?” I asked, but before anyone could answer, it happened again, louder.
One of the two men next to us drooped forward, blood pouring from the side of his face. Or…what was left of his face. Adrenaline flared through me as I scrambled to undo my safety restraint.
Gunfire!
“Get down,” Tristan yelled. Not that I had a choice, he was practically on top of me, pushing me to the bed of the chopper.
“We’ve got a tail,” the remaining soldier called out to the pilot.
“Hold on,” the pilot yelled back. The chopper took a deep swerve to the left and dipped, knocking us all off balance. The pilot moved us even lower to the ground in a quick move that sent my stomach flying.
The moment we steadied, Tristan rolled off of me and reached for the guns strapped above the seats. He tossed one to me, and we scrambled to the back, around the slumped body. The remaining soldier had already opened the back window. He hunched over a gun much than ours, firing a barrage of bullets at our enemy. Army trained, the soldier maneuvered the thing like it was an extension of his body. An ounce of comfort warmed me, but I pushed it away. Tristan and I readied ourselves on either side of him.
Just behind us, a New Colony fighter jet zoomed in and out of our wake.
We were in big trouble.
Still, I waited for the perfect opportunity.
When it came, I didn’t hesitate. I pulled my trigger and let out a round of ammunition. It ducked, slowed a fraction, before gaining speed.
“Oh, hell no!” The soldier let loose a string of profanities as he let his firearm loose on the jet.
Ping. Another bullet flew through our machine. The man next to me collapsed, his gun still firing. Tristan jumped on top of him to get ahold of the weapon. I continued to shoot, but something seemed off about this whole thing.
“Shouldn’t they just be trying to bomb us?” I asked. “Kill us all?”
“Not if their orders are to bring you back alive,” Tristan growled.
Horror flashed through me.
“We have backup on the way,” the pilot hollered back. “ETA one minute. Hang in there.”
We gla
nced at each other, eyes wide, hair blowing wildly in the freezing wind. It was them or it was us, and I wasn’t ready to die, nor was I ready to lose Tristan. He gripped the huge gun and pressed the trigger. His muscles fired along with the bullets as he followed the path of the jet. I pressed my body even further to the cold metallic surface and steadied my gun again; one eye closed as I took aim. As I shot, my mind returned to the man beside me. He was splattered with blood across his face from the other fallen men, and I thanked God he hadn’t been the one in their place. I didn’t even know if I believed in God, but if He was real, I thanked him for keeping us alive and prayed it stayed that way.
And then I chastised myself, guilt overwhelming me. Those two soldiers had come to help us, and they’d died for it. Someone would mourn their loss just as much as I would mourn Tristan if he had been in their place.
“They’re here,” he called out. I glanced up and watched three combat planes drop into the sky, seemingly out of nowhere, shooting at the enemy, taking the jet down in a matter of seconds. It fell in a roll of fury, a blossom of fiery orange in the otherwise white landscape.
I choked back a sob as relief washed over me, quickly ducking my face. As I sat up, Tristan pulled me in to a hug. My body gave way.
Our chopper took a sudden dive, and our bodies flew apart. Alarms blared. Lights flashed. My eyes shot to the pilot, slumped forward in his seat, his head covered in a dark blossom of blood. The inertia of falling overwhelmed me. We slid with the fall, moments from death. My scream pierced the world as I dove for the controls.
6
Jessa
The train rumbled beneath me as my head bobbled on Dad’s shoulder. I stretched my neck and I sat up, limbs stiff, bleary eyes on the changing landscape outside the foggy window.
“You doing okay, kid?” Dad said, shifting in his seat as he rolled his neck from side to side. He smiled softly when he caught my eye.
I nodded, my stomach instantly raw with hunger. It growled and Dad stood, reaching out a steady hand to help me up from the seat I’d just spent the night in. I was a breakfast person, always had been, which he knew. I’d always envied my friends who could skip it, no problem. That would make starting the day easier than only being able to think about my stomach. Oh well.
“This way,” Dad said, opening the door to our tiny cabin and stepping out into the narrow hallway. I brushed off my clothes, standing to shake out my legs. I ran my fingers through my mess of hair and grimaced. No use. I joined Dad and we ambled down toward the dining car. Now that the day had started, the bustle of others waking carried through the train, a soft undercurrent to the worries lumbering around in my head.
The exhibition was to be in the southern part of New Colony, an area I’d never traveled to before today. That was normal. Most citizens lived their whole lives in the same cities.
Many of the officers and alchemists still in the palace had been summoned to the event. I thought I’d be staying behind, but just as everyone was getting ready to load up and head out, Faulk came for us. She said Richard wanted to parade me around to the country. “The main reason he’s even doing these exhibitions is to get the people to accept an alchemist as their future queen, so you better behave,” she’d threatened. Her words had stirred me in a way I didn’t like. I was on display now? At least I got to bring Dad along for the trip.
We’d loaded up and had a simple dinner on the train. Faulk had announced that Lucas and Richard were travelling separately by air, something about their protection. I no longer cared. Finally, after a late night of conversing with Dad, I’d fallen asleep, my head pressed awkwardly against the windowpane, another snowstorm raging on the other side of the glass.
After breakfast, we retreated back to our private cabin. The snow was long gone by now. We watched the world outside whirl past us in silence. A few hours later, the train slowed, signaling our arrival.
“I think we’re just outside of Marthasville,” Dad said, pointing to the skyline of an urban city in the distance. “It used to be called Atlanta.”
I nodded. I already knew this from school. Marthasville was one of the original colony names. Everything got a new name when New Colony rose to power. Or, in most cases, an old name restored.
Peering out of the window, I looked for similarities to the Capitol city that I knew so well. The land here was different. The air was thicker and the buildings older. There was none of the shine that the Capitol boasted. But it was much greener.
“Ready?” Dad asked.
“No,” I sighed, but I put my hand in his anyway. He squeezed it once and then we exited the train together.
“The air,” I muttered.
Dad looked at me, eyebrows raised.
I smiled. “It’s so much cleaner here.”
“Over here,” Faulk barked, pulling me from my thoughts. She motioned to us, and we went to her, because what else were we supposed to do?
We were formed into lines and then escorted into a hotel just across the plaza from the train station. I marveled at the size of the trees. They were double our own, with gnarled knobs and stringy moss that hung like curtains. It was slightly chilly and the breeze had a bite, but that was nothing compared to what we’d left behind at the palace.
Royal Officers surrounded us, their guns at the ready. They eyed the onlookers with suspicion. No surprise there, not after the terrorist attack at Queen Natasha’s funeral. But the crowd didn’t seem fazed. Some gaped curiously, some clapped, and many had expressions twisted in fear as they followed us with their suspicious eyes.
They’re not afraid of the guns. They’re afraid of the magic.
“Boo!” Dax, the kid from my disastrous class earlier, yelled at one of the gawkers. The crowd jumped back, and he laughed, a dangerous ring to the sound. A few of his friends snickered along with him, as if taking pleasure in making fun of regular folks. “Did you come out to see the show?” he called back to them as we continued our walk.
I rolled my eyes and Dad and I shared an annoyed look.
Faulk shot over to Dax, grabbing him by his upper arm. She began hissing quiet instructions in his ear and his body deflated, moving toward the center of the Guardians. He didn’t so much as look at the crowd after that.
“Shouldn’t have teased them,” Dad whispered low. “Not when King Richard wants the people to accept alchemy.”
I glanced back at Dax and saw his lips set in a grim line. He caught me looking and glowered.
“That’s her!” someone called out cheerfully over the buzz of the crowd. It took a moment for me to realize I was the “her” they were so excited to see. The alchemists around me seemed to split, taking their distance from Dad and me. As they did, the Royal Officers moved in closer.
“Jessa!” Another voice yelled, this time frenzied.
I studied the crowd, noticing the camera crews. The media was well-controlled by Richard, so I had no doubt he wanted my face plastered across slatebooks all over the New Colony. I smiled and waved politely, inwardly groaning to myself.
Be good. Stay in line. Go along with what Richard wants. And then when he least expects it, make your move.
That was the plan. But as I was surrounded by my fellow Guardians, all of us dressed in our black gear, with hordes of armed Royal Officers gleaming in white uniforms, and a crowd of everyday citizens surrounding us, that plan felt beyond impossible. It was as if it was on one end of the world and I was on the other.
“In here.” Faulk strode up next to me, a rare smile on her face, as she pointed to the front doors of the hotel. Her blonde hair gleamed in the sunlight, making her look younger. What kind of woman would she be if she weren’t an officer? Would she be happier? But her smile was for the cameras, since she wasn’t the type to smile, and the thought made me a little sad. “We’ve got you and your dad a suite. You’ll be expected to smile and say only positive things while you’re here. Always assume you’re on camera.”
I laughed, grinning beautifully. “Got it.” I nodde
d.
“Let’s go inside, then,” Faulk replied.
“Hold on.” I pushed past her toward the crowd. I used to be just like these people. Before coming to the palace, I was living comfortably enough, on the outside of magic and not asking questions, but curious. Always curious.
Did they feel the same way? I wanted to see who they were. See if I saw myself in them.
I approached a family. A mother, holding the outstretched hands of two identical twin boys not much older than Lacey. A man with a full beard stood behind her, one hand resting on one of his son’s shoulders.
“Hi!” One of the boys grinned up at me. He had a hole where his front tooth should be, smooth brown skin, and black, curly hair. He was adorable.
“Hi there,” I said, squatting to meet his gaze. I reached out to shake his tiny hand. “I’m Jessa, it’s very nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
“I’m Theo,” he gushed. “You’re so pretty.”
I blushed. “Thank you.”
“Are you really magic?” he asked, his eyes lighting up.
“Theo!” His mom chastised him. “Be polite.”
I grinned at her, meeting distressed eyes. “He’s all right. I don’t mind the questions,” I said, and she visibly relaxed. I studied the twin boys, both now smiling at me with wonder that danced in their eyes. It wasn’t my engagement that had them interested in me, it was my alchemy, and something about that felt satisfying.
“Yes, I am magic,” I said. “It’s a very special thing. Will you be at the exhibition tomorrow, so I can show you?”
“We didn’t get tickets,” the dad said in a gravelly voice, “but we’ll be watching from home, won’t we boys?”
They nodded, their heads bobbing.
Faulk choose that moment to come up behind me and tug on my arm. “It’s time for the lady to go,” she said to the family. They nodded along with her, eyes wide as saucers. It probably wasn’t everyday an officer of the court addressed them. The crowd had started to cram around the family, every person seemingly eager to hear our conversation. A cameraman stood off to my left, trained on the whole exchange. I gave it a little wave and the crowd cheered.
