by Nina Walker
Lucas, I called out. Can you hear me? It’s me. It’s Jessa.
I waited, sure that there was something on the other end, like a slight crackle when the slatebooks connected to each other, and I just needed to listen harder.
Lucas, I tried again. Are you okay? Please, Lucas, if you can just give me a sign. Just say anything so I know you’re all right.
Still, nothing.
Frustration clawed at me. The purple magic pulsed through my body, ready to make a connection, like it too was beginning to panic. It buzzed around, filling me with anxiety.
Lucas, please!
This time, I already knew there wouldn’t be a response to my pleading words. But even so, something was there, lingering, some faint energy on the other end. Surely, it wasn’t all in my mind. I shoved the thick wad of fabric into the pocket of my jeans and dropped my face into sweaty palms, nearly ready to give up. Maybe all of it was in my mind, just wishful thinking, just a heart trying not to be broken. Silly. Hopeless.
Definitely foolish.
I stayed like that for hours, trying again and again to make a connection.
Failing.
Failing so miserably I barely noticed when my cheeks became wet and sore. I didn’t know when I’d begun to cry, silent anguish dripping down my face. It lasted for longer than I’d care to admit. And when the tears could no longer flow, when there was simply nothing left inside to pour out, my mind drifted away.
It was the angry kind of sleep that found me. Not restful or a way to forget the world; there was no peace in it. Rather, it consumed me with heady nightmares, the kind laced with sinking horrors and twisted fears. Worst of all, it held me under and pinned me down with no way to wake myself, no way to escape.
The train had stopped, the low rumble gone.
“There she is,” a sharp voice split through the fog.
My eyes popped open. Before I could react, hands grabbed me. I reached for my stones, but more hands beat me to it and ripped them away. Lights flickered on, illuminating the small area and momentarily blinding me. Yanked from my spot on the floor, my body, heavy from sleep, knocked over the long row of black garment bags.
I blinked, my heart racing, as the white Royal Officer uniforms took over my vision, their badges glistening silver, their ominous weapons inches from my face.
Unmistakable black boots stepped forward. I looked up to find Faulk glowering in my face, her tall, wiry frame stiff, her smile triumphant, her eyes narrowed in pure hatred. She tossed a handful of gray clothes at me and pointed her gun. “Change. Now.”
I debated going for the color since it was all around me. But most of it was synthetic and wouldn’t grant me any favors.
“Now!” she yelled again, voice sharp as a knife.
I turned and stripped as fast as possible, shame and anger in every movement. Without color, I would be hopeless. But I had no way out of this situation, no other choice, but to comply with Faulk. Dressed in only a white bra and panties, I took a risk and slipped the ripped piece of purple fabric inside the cup of my bra. Then I threw on the gray top and shimmied into the thin pants.
Purple wouldn’t get me out of this mess, but it was better than nothing.
“Jessa Heart, you are under arrest.” Faulk grabbed me and pushed me against the doorframe, locking handcuffs around my wrists.
“For what?” I growled, automatically tugging against the grip of metal. She tightened the cuffs even more, the pain biting into my wrists.
“I think you already know,” she snapped, voice right in my ear.
Oh, I did. For attempting to manipulate the King by going for what I thought was his red blood? Yeah, that had been a huge error on my part and arrest-worthy. But I’d never hurt Lucas, and I prayed I wasn’t about to be blamed for whatever had happened to him.
“Is Lucas really dead?” The urge to have answers made me sound desperate, but I didn’t care. I craned my neck to get a better look at her, to see if her reaction gave anything away, but she only shoved my face back into the doorframe. “Please, just tell me the truth. Is he okay?”
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up. If you don’t, I’ll shut you up.” Her voice grew louder. “You’re in a lot of trouble. I wouldn’t be surprised if King Richard orders your execution the moment he sees you.”
My gut twisted. I wouldn’t be surprised either, especially if Lucas really was dead and the King had no leads. I was an easy target. He’d probably kill me himself.
She pulled me from the room, deliberately shoving me into the doorframe before pushing me into the small hallway. On either end of the passenger train, faces stared back, and I ran my eyes over wrinkled foreheads, hands over mouths, and huddles of my old friends.
“Why are you arresting her?” Kenny said, breaking from the crowd and moving in close. His eyebrows arched in concern, but guilt lit his expression. “I thought you said she was in trouble. You were supposed to help her!”
Faulk eyed him with disdain. “You got what you wanted, boy. You got your reward. Don’t ask questions. We know what we’re doing.”
A dark cloud enveloped me, and I sighed heavily. Kenny. Kenny had turned me in. He’d seemed so trustworthy, helped me when I’d saved Toby. When would I learn that I could trust no one? Madame Silver stood behind him, her eyes wide with anguish. I couldn’t blame her, she’d known this would happen. She’d been smart enough to get me out, but I’d been the one to go back on my word.
“You’re sure nobody else knew she was in there?” Faulk asked Kenny.
“I’m sure,” he sputtered.
“You know we have ways to detect if you’re lying.”
Dread crashed through me. If he told the truth, it would implicate the entire company. They would be punished. Severely. But, in retrospect, I had gone into that storage car alone. Kenny wasn’t lying, he just wasn’t telling the entire truth.
“I’m sure,” he went on. “I went in there to get something and found her, so I called the hotline right away.”
Faulk nodded. “My colleagues will be conducting interviews.”
A wave of dizziness fell over me.
“And if everything checks out, you will be rewarded, as promised.”
Kenny’s mouth twisted but his eyes widened, and the dizziness running through my mind doubled. Of course, I couldn’t trust these people not to turn me in. Money was money. Who was I to them when a fortune was on the line?
Faulk yanked me down the thin hall to the exit, down the steps, and out toward a waiting car. I’d spent enough time in black, shiny cars over the last six months, and just the sight of it made tears spring to my eyes. My stomach turned and before I could stop myself, I bent at the waist and lost what little I had in my stomach. It spread across the pavement and splattered Faulk’s shoes. “Sorry,” I muttered, not that I really cared. A small laugh escaped me.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding,” she growled, spinning me around so quick the dizziness came back with a vengeance. She backhanded me across the face, hard enough for my breath to catch and my vision to blur.
Everything fell to darkness.
I caught the faint sandalwood scent of Lucas; it crashed me from the tip of weightlessness back into reality. My heart, so closed until now, fluttered open—my eyes, too. My surroundings took form, from hazy to solid—I was in his surroundings, too. I shot up, a mix of fear and longing clenching me so tight I could hardly breathe.
I was lying in the center of a large bed, in the bedroom we'd been meant to share together. The fireplace, the furniture, the long, sheer curtains—everything appeared as we’d left it, as if waiting for my return. Part of me wished I’d never left it that night. If I’d stayed here with Lucas, we might not be in this mess. Maybe I could have protected him from whatever happened, and maybe he could have done the same for me. Maybe he would still be in here with me now, instead of the wispy traces of his scent, a pale comparison to the real thing.
I buried my head into his pillow, tears fi
lling my eyes. I’d gone and ruined everything and now that I was back, I was more of a prisoner than ever. And I didn’t have Lucas. I didn’t have anyone. But at least I was here. At least now I had a chance to find him. Somehow. Someway.
Maybe this was not only the better way, but also the only way. Maybe this was what needed to happen all along. It was the only hope I had, and it still didn’t change the fact that I was once again in my gilded prison.
I sat up and peered around, noticing there was something a little off about the room. There was no usable color. I wasn’t surprised. The furniture was dark oak, the linens were all white, and the floors the same polished alabaster marble found in most of the palace. Even the rug and wall hangings had been removed, and after checking the dresser drawers and the closet, I only found black, gray, or white, but nothing usable.
Deep in my gut, I knew that the doors would be locked, the windows, too. Still, ever the naïve optimist, I rolled from the bed and checked them anyway. The silver door handle didn’t budge, and the window was firmly shut in place. I ran a finger along the line of fresh nails buried along the painted windowsill and sighed.
At least I wasn’t expected to wear prison clothes. That had to mean something. I went back to the closet to study the casual outfits and formal gowns, finding a group of pressed Guardian uniforms hanging in the back. Breath catching in my throat, I ran my fingers along the material of my old uniform and felt my heart kick in protest. I had been so close to getting away from this outfit and everything it meant. The idea of wearing them hardly seemed appropriate, but I could take a hint when I saw one.
Besides, I needed to get cleaned up while I still had the chance.
I hurried to the shower and got myself ready as quickly as I could, partly from the anticipation of what the day would hold for someone under arrest, but partly from curiosity as to why I was locked up in here instead of downstairs with all the other criminals. If I had to guess, I’d say I was going to find out what was going on sooner rather than later. Surely I wasn’t just going to be accepted back into the fold as a Guardian? But according to the latest broadcast, I was still the princess. But that didn’t make sense either, given the circumstances of my disappearance.
Dressing in the bathroom, I found the strip of purple fabric I’d stolen and returned it to the spot inside of my bra, tucking it against my skin. I felt a little silly hiding something there, because what would happen if they made me strip? I couldn’t worry about that. It was all the color I had left, and it was coming with me, just in case. Freshened up and waiting for whatever came next, I sat back on the bed, foot tapping restlessly on the floor. Breakfast, perhaps? My stomach pinched at the thought.
I closed my eyes and relaxed, thinking of Lucas, wondering if he was near, hoping he was okay. I was no stranger to pain and sadness lately, but even imagining him no longer being alive tore a giant hole inside me. I was nervous to try the purple magic again for that very reason. What if it didn’t work? What if it failed so miserably I had no choice but to accept Lucas’s death? I touched my side, close to the purple fabric. If it didn’t work, if he didn’t respond now that I was back in our home, I swore my heart would crumble.
I swallowed and took several deep breaths, my chest rising and falling with effort. Whatever the case, whatever happened, I had to be strong. There wasn’t any more time to question things. I was back in the palace, and if Lucas was hiding somewhere, he was probably close. I could do this.
Mind made up, the purple came to me instantly, quickening my pulse. With steady thoughts, I reached out for him. At first, there was nothing, but then a small flicker of familiar energy rose on the other end.
Lucas! I called out. Lucas, are you okay? Is that you? Can you hear me?
The door flew open. I blinked several times, instantly losing the telepathic magic. With the color safely tucked away, nobody would know what had just happened. I cleared the magic from my body and turned to face my intruder.
King Richard.
“You,” he spat, striding into the room with clenched fists. A few guards shuffled in after him, and the door slammed with a thud.
I held up my hands in surrender, mouth falling open, unable to utter a word. He loomed over me, looking taller than I remembered. Bigger. And angrier than I’d ever seen him, the clarity in his steel eyes was startling. His hair was slicked back and his suit was pressed to perfection, the polished exterior did little to hide the animal within.
“You have a lot of explaining to do,” he growled low, a thick vein in his forehead bulging, his sunken cheeks making his facial bones extra severe. “Unfortunately, Reed is still on the frontline. He’s been rather useful to me there, but I’m starting to regret that decision.” He eyed me with contempt as his presence overtook the room. “I’m going to give you one chance to tell me the truth, and if you don't, I swear on my wife’s grave, I will drag you by that pretty hair of yours all the way to the frontline to beg at Reed’s feet.”
My stomach flipped. Reed was the most powerful blue alchemist in the kingdom and I had too much to hide. I should have been more careful than to end up here! With all the suspicion cast in my direction, and Reed to interrogate me about everything, I’d have to fight harder than ever to overcome him. But I’d done it before. I could do it again. Still, I needed that to be the last resort.
“Okay,” I squeaked. I cleared my throat, grasping for confidence. “Okay, I'll tell you.” How was I going to pull this off?
I gripped the edge of the bed sheet, wishing I could manipulate white and get out of here. I tried to clear my mind, noticing instead that my whole body had grown cold.
He leaned in front of me, eyes narrowed into angry slits. “Are you with the Resistance?”
There was no point in lying. I’d already tried and failed to manipulate the man’s blood. He hated me, would never trust me again.
“Yes.”
Slam! He slapped me across the face. It was so unexpected, so shocking, I didn’t brace myself. I fell back onto the bed and cowered. He didn’t seem to care either way. His face was beet red as he towered over me.
“How long?” he demanded.
“Since not long after I got here. Sasha and Jasmine recruited me.”
“Who else?”
“What?” I sputtered, the terror multiplying.
“You know what!” he yelled, voice booming through the room.
How was I going to keep others out of this one? Lucas had been part of the Resistance for a time, and I couldn’t possibly tell his father. Madame Silver had helped me, and she could be so easily implicated. That sweet old woman, Ruth, the farmer Taysom Greene and his family, and so many others ... even the couple at the palace. I couldn’t turn these people in. They had helped me. Any suspicion on them would ultimately mean their deaths. I’d seen for myself how Richard had twisted things to punish anyone he wanted. There were no consequences for a king.
“Who else is Resistance?” he demanded again.
“I don’t know,” I lied. If it came to the point that Reed got the truth from me using his persuasive magic, then so be it. Right now, I was all about lying through my teeth for as long as I could manage.
“I don’t believe you,” he said slowly, once again clenching his fists.
“No, it was only those two. When Jasmine died, the Resistance died too,” I pleaded.
Died… I gritted my death. Murder was the appropriate word for what had happened to Jasmine. I longed to say it, but given my vulnerable position, I needed to appear as cooperative as possible, but without revealing too much. I needed to appear chastised, apologetic.
“If that’s true, then who has been trying to assassinate my family?” He began to pace the room, arms flying about as he spoke. His guards stood back, expressions placid. But they followed him with their careful eyes, as if they knew to watch out, as if they understood the viper was about to strike.
“I don’t know, honestly, I don’t,” I said.
“Again, Jessa, I don
’t believe you. You’re a liar.”
He should know…
“Is Lucas really dead?” I asked, changing the subject to what I really longed to be discussing. Richard didn’t take the bait.
“Where did you go? The night you attacked me, tried to ruin me, where did you disappear to?”
There was no way around this one. But I could bend the truth. If I stuck close enough to what happened, then maybe he would believe the lies I was weaving.
“Your son, he got me out.”
He spun toward me, face growing pale, jaw slacking in shock.
“Lucas said you’d never forgive me,” I continued, holding up my hands in surrender. “He thought you were going to have me executed for treason after what I did. He snuck me out of the palace. I’ve been traveling by myself ever since.”
“My son snuck you out?” His eyes narrowed, realization dawning in them. “So you don’t know what happened to him.”
I shook my head. “I don’t.”
“Isn’t it interesting that when we found you, you were stowed away on a train heading North. If you were really so eager to get away from me, then it seems your story doesn’t add up.”
I scooted back and crawled to the top of the bed, pressing my back against the headboard.
“I came back to see if Lucas was really dead,” I croaked.
He silently strode to the window, peering out with his hands clasped behind his back. Outside, winter was nearing its end, but the earth was still in hibernation. I wondered if it reflected the rage simmering under King Richard’s exterior.
He glared back at me and stalked forward, finger pointed. “Tell me the full truth. Who else helped you?”
I bit my lip as I shook my head. “No one.”
