The Fractured Empire (The World Apart Series Book 1)

by Robin D. Mahle

  I didn't know whether to believe him or not. One of the reasons I had resisted marrying the prince so fiercely was that I had no natural ability to read people or determine if they were lying. That wasn’t good in a political climate. Over the years, I had, by necessity, learned some of the more basic tells. Clark was exhibiting none of those.

  I could quite effectively don a mask of my own. My heiress face. I drew on that power now, as much for my own strength as the image I was projecting. I waited until I was sure my voice wouldn't crack to ask my next question.

  "You left him alive?" I don't know why I asked when I wasn't sure I'd believe the answer, but I couldn't stop myself. I needed something to cling to, some hope.

  "I did." His answer didn't satisfy me. It felt incomplete, but before I could pry further, the large man spoke.

  "Well, as fascinating as this is, I'm hoping, against the odds, that you have some kind of a plan, Clark. Or were we just going to haul her back to base and keep her there against her will?" He spoke in such an even tone, I couldn't be sure if he was kidding.

  "No, you arse. I do have a plan. We need to go somewhere safe, but not back to base. Besides, I need a few answers, and I know someone who might have them. Gunther can take a look at the necklace when we get there. We'll have to take her with us."

  This statement was met with groans. Most of my concentration was going into maintaining my composure, so it took me a moment to register Clark's words entirely.

  "Like hell I am," I said, shaking my head vehemently. "Take me back to the city. My father will deal with this." I gestured vaguely to the mysterious necklace. Whether or not we always got along, there was little doubt in my mind of my father's ability to move mountains when he wanted to. And I sure as hell trusted him more than I did the men standing before me, whatever their alleged intentions.

  "Whoever your father is, this is out of his league."

  I raised my eyebrows. Clark doesn't know who I am. Interesting.

  He went on to tell me how little he desired my company and used some scare tactics to cajole me into coming along peacefully.

  Finally, the redhead cut him off. "That's enough, Clark. Whatever has put you in this mood, it's not her fault." He crouched in front of me. "My name is Gunther. Do you mind if I ask yours?"

  "Addie." Where had that come from? I hadn’t allowed anyone to call me Addie in exactly five years and three days, not even Nell or Perry. That name had died with my sister. That person had died with my sister. But it was less recognizable than Adelaide.

  "Addie, this must be terrifying for you, waking up in a strange place, not able to move properly. Xavier," he gestured to the large man, "says you should be back to normal in the next twenty minutes or so. I know you have nothing to go off except the word of strangers, but I promise you, coming with us really is your safest option. As soon as we get you free of that necklace, we'll help you get home, and it can be like this never happened." He spoke soothingly, calmly.

  “And if it helps your decision, I think I’ll hang on to this necklace until I can trade it for the one around your neck,” Clark added. Gunther glared at him, but his expression had nothing on mine.

  I had a choice. I could divulge who I was to men whose motives were unknown to me, trusting in the unlikelihood that they wouldn't take advantage of that information. Even if they didn’t, I doubted they would change their plans and risk the necklace falling into someone else's hands when they clearly wanted it for themselves. I could leave the last piece of my sister I had behind. Or, I could go with them and hope they didn't decide to just chop my head off for easier access. If they were going to do that, surely it would've made more sense to do it here, though. Slowly, hesitantly, I nodded.

  I followed my bronze chain as it slipped from Clark’s hand to the pocket of his leather utility belt. Maybe I could find a way to get it back when he was distracted.

  "Looks like we're going to Wesley's," Xavier said with grim resignation. He nodded at me. "If she's not terrified now, she soon will be."

  The Renegade

  I didn't know much about what had happened on Xavier's home island. Father never told us, and Xav didn't want to talk about it. I only knew he felt like he hadn't protected his family from harm and hadn't been able to help them after they’d been hurt.

  Since joining our family, he had poured every ounce of his considerable drive into learning to do those two things. Protect and heal. It was an odd combination, but he excelled at both. Father had wanted us to pursue our passions. So Xav had medicine and sparring. Gunther had science and engineering. I trained relentlessly in everything my father and the men on the boat were willing to teach me over the years, but I never could seem to find that missing piece of myself the way my brothers had.

  Chapter Twelve

  Clark

  Terrifying wasn't the word I would have used to describe Wesley. Unnerving, eccentric, downright obnoxious, but not scary in the traditional sense. Xavier seemed to have his heart set on needling at the girl who had thrown a wrench into all of our plans, though, so I didn't bother to correct him.

  I asked Gunther if he had brought the syringes.

  "No," Xavier answered. "But I did. You're welcome. The two of you don't know what you're doing with them anyway." He dug one out and gestured for me to turn around. He pulled down the top of the uniform and swabbed a spot with alcohol. I braced myself, but that didn't make it any less painful when he plunged the giant needle in. I hissed through my teeth.

  "Maybe next time you'll follow the plan," he said.

  I wasn't brave enough to respond to that when he was holding a needle in my back, so I distracted myself instead. "Addie, huh? That seems a little informal for a girl like you."

  "It hardly matters what you call me if I'm to be with you for as short a time as your friend promised." Though her voice remained icy calm, there was a challenge in her words that grated on me.

  Whatever. Xavier finished up, and I pulled the uniform back up. Though it was too warm for both, I pulled my leather jacket out of my go bag and maneuvered my arms into the sleeves. I felt naked without it.

  That’s better.

  “She needs one too,” I said to Xavier, referring to the injection he had given me. “Her ankle.”

  He looked to the sky but nodded.

  “Needs one what?” she asked.

  We didn’t answer. I dug through my bag for another syringe. I didn’t have any smaller ones, and I had a momentary flash of guilt. It vanished when I caught sight of her arrogant face.

  I handed the clean syringe to Xavier, and he took it. As he kneeled in front of her, her eyes widened in fear.

  “Relax. This will just help your ankle heal, so you can walk on it sooner. Nothing else.” Xavier’s voice was gruff and impatient. He reached for her ankle, and she jerked it back.

  “I don’t care what it does. You’re not sticking that giant thing inside me.” Her face reddened after the words were out, and I chuckled. She turned the full force of the glare on me. “You know what I meant,” she snapped.

  I purposely did not erase the smile from my face. “I’m just going to be straight with you here. You’re wearing something people would kill, will kill, and have killed to get. You can either give yourself the best chance of running away if danger finds you, or you can pansy out now and probably die later. The choice is yours.” I watched her face pale in reaction to my words, then steel in resolve. If she hadn’t been so annoying, I might have been impressed.

  Gunther went to take her hand.

  “I’m sorry, but this will hurt,” he said.

  Addie nodded but moved her hand from his grasp, fisting it in her skirts instead. She jutted out her chin and looked away, and Xavier plunged the sizable needle into her ankle.

  “Damn it!” she yelled.

  “Almost done,” Xav told her, depressing the plunger.

  She only ground her teeth in response, features pinched in pain. When he finally removed the needle, she let out a sm
all sigh of relief.

  “It still needs wrapping. Clark, that sounds like a job for you. Any idiot can wrap an ankle.” He smiled.

  “Then why don’t you do it, Brother?” I shot back.

  “Ha, ha. Because she’s your problem, that’s why. Besides, I already did the hard part.” He got up, making room for me, and leaned against a nearby tree.

  We didn’t have time to argue about this. At least ten minutes had passed since we made it to this clearing. I grabbed a strip of muslin and a pin from the small medical kit in my bag. Addie watched me with wary eyes while I once again crouched before her.

  Gunther still sat beside her, not touching her. I could tell my nicer brother was trying to be comforting with his presence, but I couldn’t tell from her guarded face whether or not he was succeeding. Not that it mattered to me.

  I put my hand around the back of her slim calf and slid it down to position her ankle correctly. She shuffled uncomfortably. Large amber eyes caught my own, and I wondered if I imagined something flickering in them that was decidedly not pain. Just as quickly, it was gone. She looked away.

  I set to wrapping her ankle and foot while Xavier looked over my shoulder and offered helpful suggestions every twelve seconds.

  “Not like that. No, that’s wrong too. You’re terrible at this.”

  “I know how to wrap an ankle, Xavier. Go check the perimeter.”

  “It needs to be tighter there.”

  “Do you want to do this?”

  “Of course not. I have a perimeter to check.”

  Gunther rolled his eyes at our argument. I thought I saw a flicker of sadness cross Addie’s face before the haughty mask snapped back into place. Taking one last look at her expression, I finished the wrap. Her ankle was as secure as it was going to get. She still wouldn’t be able to walk on it right away, though, and we had to get going. Gunther and Xavier had scouted the surroundings before they revealed themselves, but the masked men were undoubtedly still searching for us.

  "We've been here too long already. Someone's going to have to carry the girl." Xavier echoed my thoughts. Gunther hadn't done any real physical training since Father died, so that was out of the question. My shoulder was killing me, and the injection wouldn't kick in for at least a few minutes. We both looked to Xavier, who groaned.

  He picked her up much like one would a rotten sack of eggs, none too gently and held at arm's length. It caused her dress to slip down a little more, not that I noticed. Her bare feet were dangling, one expertly wrapped, and her dark hair was coming loose from the pins that held it. She looked a bit of a mess - not that you'd know it from her demeanor. She maintained a stony silence, eyes fixed in the distance as if she didn't deign to notice she was being hauled around at all.

  I couldn't hold back my grin. Even my brother's considerable strength would not allow him to carry her that way for long. I nearly laughed out loud imagining the awkwardness that would ensue. Then I shook my head. I was never this distractible on a mission.

  All this stress and exhaustion must be getting to me.

  Mind refocused, I cleared the area of any belongings or evidence that we had been there, then set to lead the way to Wesley's.

  The trek was slow but uneventful, unless you counted Addie and Xavier's never-ending bickering. We stuck to back roads and shadows and managed to avoid notice. If anyone did see us, the uniform I was wearing staved off their inquiries.

  "You're pinching my leg."

  "Would you rather I drag you?"

  And on it went. Sympathy coursed through me for Gunther having to put up with this from Xav and me all the time. I never thought I'd be so relieved to reach the shipyard container Wesley called home. A familiar smell of dirt and rust alerted me to the shipyard long before I could make out the hulking shapes. I stopped to get my bearings before navigating the enormous maze of rectangular metal structures.

  "I’m sure my ankle is fine now. Feel free to set me down at any time."

  "Gladly,” Xav said. “I mean, you aren't wearing shoes, and I'm sure your delicate socialite feet are more than accustomed to picking their way across broken bottles and cigarette butts, but here you go." Xavier unceremoniously plopped Addie on her feet. She gingerly tested her ankle but said nothing.

  "Xavier, you can't make Addie walk in this. Pick her back up." This from my more compassionate brother.

  "Whatever. The girl is heavier than she looks. I'll pick her back up when she asks me to. Nicely." He folded his arms over his chest.

  "Don't hold your breath. Or better yet, do." Lending weight to her words, the stubborn girl took off walking. Or limping, rather. In the wrong direction.

  "Wrong way," I alerted her, having finally gotten my bearings despite their banter. She changed course, cursing a bit under her breath. After several paces of listening to her sharp intakes of breath, I turned around and hauled her over my good shoulder.

  "I was doing fine."

  Her pride was unbelievable.

  "Of course you were, but we'd like to get there sometime today, so be a good girl and stay still."

  Her outraged hiss did more to amuse me than anything. In the midst of this mission gone wrong, I found myself with the urge to laugh. I held it back, but there was something about this girl that amused me.

  Xavier hadn't been entirely joking. The weight of the girl and her dress was fairly substantial for how tiny she looked. I had noticed that on the walk to the forest, but it was more pronounced with her on only one shoulder. Her dress was billowing in my face, and I kept having to blow the dirt-covered fabric out of my mouth. Thankfully, it was only a few more minutes to Wesley's container.

  A cautious hand crept toward my belt pocket. She wasn’t shy, I’d give her that. With a sigh, I covered the slim hand with my larger one.

  “I don’t blame you for trying, but that’s not how this works. I told you, you’ll get this necklace back when I get the one I want,” I told her. She growled in my ear, and I chuckled softly.

  The graffiti riddling the containers was too dark to make out, so I pulled the flashlight back out with my free hand and handed it to Xav. It was Gunther who spotted the familiar designs on an otherwise unremarkable blue container. He knocked three short, evenly spaced raps against the metal siding, and we waited.

  Only seconds passed before a faint whirring sounded. Then a rectangular piece of metal grated to the side, revealing a small intercom with a single round button.

  "You will have one opportunity to correctly answer the following riddle if you desire entry into my dwelling." Wesley's dramatic voice crackled through the speaker.

  I rolled my eyes.

  "What comes once in a minute, twice in a moment, and never in a thousand years. Tick tock, you have sixty seconds." The crackle ended, and we were plunged into silence.

  Xavier's groan from behind me matched my feelings exactly. We knew from experience Wesley made no exceptions to his ridiculous rules. I glanced sideways to Gunther, who only shrugged.

  Of course. He hadn't heard anything. I turned around so Xavier could shine the light on my face while I repeated it. I had almost forgotten about the warm weight on my shoulder until I heard a clear voice ring out behind me before I could get a word out to Gunther.

  "It's an M. Now open the bloody door," she demanded.

  She could have just blown our only chance!

  I opened my mouth to let her know that, but was once again cut off, this time by the loud click of the lock disengaging. I could practically feel the smugness radiating off her person. Xavier swung the heavy metal door open, and we were momentarily blinded by fluorescent light. I blinked a few times to adjust my eyes.

  Immediately inside the door was a stairway leading underground. It looked clear of debris, so I set the girl gently down on her feet. I almost missed her warmth, which made no sense at all in the oppressive heat.

  We trusted Wesley as much as we trusted anyone outside of ourselves, but that was no reason to get sloppy. Xavier led the way down
the stairs on full alert. Gunther helped the girl hobble down next, and I followed so I could cover our backs. It was a familiar pattern, one we sank into without thinking. Once everyone was inside, I shut the door, and the lock clicked back into place. It was time to get some answers.

  The Heiress

  I hadn't been the one originally intended for the prince. My sister was Perry's age exactly. She was also charming and beautiful, everything a princess should be. Though we only spent two years on Central before the explosion, we must have been at the palace at least a hundred times. Just so they could get to know each other, our parents had said.

  Perry was an only child, and the three of us had become fast friends. I didn't know whether there was ever any real attraction between he and Ami. They had only been fifteen when they lost the chance to find out. Regardless, neither of them had fought the arrangement when it was brought up. Maybe that was why the idea of marrying him had felt so wrong for so many years. Maybe that was why it still did.

  I had loved Amelie with everything I had, but I had already spent a lifetime in her shadow. Her death had only emphasized that. Was it too much to hope that my marriage would be different?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Adelaide

  The steep stairs zigzagged down one level and then another before spitting our group out at a set of solid steel doors. A heavily-muscled blond man stood in front of them, doing his best to look intimidating. He leveled a gaze at me, and I returned it with interest. I had spent five years with the fiercest warrior in the land by my side. I would not be cowed by a common thug. Locke would have been proud.

  Will be. When I tell him. Because he’s not dead.

  I didn't dare think of him as anything but alive and whole if I wanted to continue. The thought made my heiress mask even colder, and the man gave me a grudging nod. He moved his stare to the three boys, none of whom faltered.