The Broken World

by Lindsey Klingele

  “Where have you been?” She didn’t mean to accuse him, but her words came out sounding that way.

  Merek’s eyes narrowed. “Out for a ride. Same as you, I suspect.”

  Liv bit back a response and walked with Merek toward the house. She was still surprised, every day, with his decision to stay in Los Angeles and help her fix what the portals had broken. When she and Peter had come back to find the world a mess, Joe and Merek had helped fill in all the blanks. Liv had given Merek his brother’s letter, expecting him to ask her to open a portal so he could go back home right away. But instead, Merek had said he had a “mission” to tend to first.

  “They’ll be worried about you,” Liv had said, confused. “Everything’s safe in Caelum now. If you don’t go back, Rafe will think something’s happened. Cedric—”

  Merek had scoffed. “Cedric? He is the one who left me here—after giving me a thrashing for no reason, as you surely remember. As for Rafe, I have never been top on his list of worries. I am sure he can wait a while to see his wayward baby brother once again.”

  At that, Merek had tucked the note from Rafe into his pants and turned abruptly away. Liv hadn’t pressed the issue. Truthfully, she was glad Merek was here and willing to help out. Tracking down an impossible-to-find Knight was more than a one-woman job. Actually, it was a job for a whole squad, one with plenty of cars, time, and working Wi-Fi—none of which Liv had. She’d use any help Merek was willing to give.

  Still, as shorthanded and overwhelmed as they’d all felt these two months, Liv was at least happy to know that Daisy and Shannon were both out of Los Angeles. She’d been freaked out to learn that Shannon had been put in the hospital by a Knight. And as much as she missed her best friend, she knew Shannon was where she needed to be—safe and with her family.

  Daisy, too, was safe at boarding school, even though Liv hadn’t been able to email her since the lightning fire in Venice took out the power on the west half of the city. But Liv’s gut told her that her sister was fine—after all, the only upside to someone taking out the Knights of Valere one by one was that the Knights would probably be too busy running and/or getting murdered to try to track down Liv and her siblings.

  And as for Malquin—there hadn’t been a single sighting of him since he fled the castle after killing Cedric’s father. There was no way of knowing where he was or what he was getting up to—or even if he was still in LA—but Liv still wasted many hours wondering about it.

  “Are you hungry?” Liv asked Merek as she opened the front door of the mansion. She kept her voice upbeat to make up for her earlier sharpness.

  “Always,” Merek answered.

  “Great, let’s grab a quick lunch and then spend the afternoon tracking down another lead?”

  Merek nodded, following her inside. But when Liv stepped into the dim front room, a figure bounced forward, blocking her way to the kitchen.

  “Finally!” Peter said, moving quickly toward her on his crutch. His leg was still in the process of healing, but he’d gotten much better at navigating around the house. “I’ve been waiting for you for hours.”

  “What for?”

  “Joe said when you got back we could go on a supply run. We’re short on water.”

  Liv frowned. “Again?”

  Peter shrugged. “You’re the one who insists on washing your hair so much. Can we go now?”

  “Twice a week isn’t that much,” Liv muttered, self-consciously touching one hand to her hair. It wasn’t like she had anyone to impress, but some habits were hard to break, even in a semi-apocalypse.

  “Whatever,” Peter said, shrugging. “I’ve been stuck in this house for two days. I’d drink the rest of the water myself just to have an excuse to leave the house.”

  Liv sighed, thinking about her plans to spend another afternoon trying to track down Martin. The search should take priority, but Peter was right—it had been two days since he’d been able to leave the house. Because of his leg, he couldn’t ride a moped, and they’d decided as a group to use Joe’s Jeep only when they had to. Which left Peter stuck, alone, most of the time.

  “All right,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  Changing her plans was almost worth it to see the smile that stretched across Peter’s face. He pushed his pair of replacement glasses up his nose with one hand as he moved past Liv and out into the orange-y daylight.

  “Up for a trip?” Liv asked Merek.

  He hesitated briefly before responding. “I think we should return to the location on Beverly for supplies.”

  Liv peered at him. This was the second time Merek had suggested they go to the Ralphs on Beverly for their supply run. “Why? There’s, like, three stores that are closer.”

  “But most of them have been emptied already. That location had the most untouched water containers left.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t think—”

  “I remember very clearly.” The determination in Merek’s voice surprised Liv. She got the sense, again, that there was something going on that he wasn’t telling her.

  “Who cares which store we go to?” Peter said, his crutch hitting the ground as he hurried back to them. “Can we just go?”

  Liv pulled her gaze away from Merek, deciding to leave it alone for now. “Yeah, let’s go.”

  Liv drove the Jeep quickly but carefully. The large vehicle was much more conspicuous than the mopeds, but they needed it to haul water jugs and supplies back to the mansion. Liv just had to be careful not to draw the attention of the evacuation crews or anyone who’d stayed behind in the city for less-than-honorable reasons.

  When she pulled into Ralphs’s parking lot, she maneuvered the Jeep along the side of the building, where it couldn’t be easily seen from the street. The parking lot in front of the store was a wreck, littered with shopping carts and abandoned produce. One car with four flat tires was parked across three spaces. But, like most of LA, it was completely empty of people.

  “All right, let’s do this quick,” Liv said. “I’m starving.”

  “I will scout the perimeter,” Merek said, jumping out of the Jeep.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary—” Liv called out after him, but he was already gone.

  “Come on, you know how much he loves scouting the perimeter. Why take that away from him?” Peter said, grinning.

  Liv gave a half shrug. “Good point.”

  She got out of the Jeep and followed Peter inside the abandoned Ralphs. The iron gate that usually slid across the doors to keep people out at night was busted up on one side, as if something heavy had been thrown against it—or driven into it. Beyond that, the glass doors themselves had been completely disassembled. The store inside was dark, except for what little light filtered in through the front windows.

  Liv grabbed the handle of a lone shopping cart and pushed it toward the soda and water aisle. The shelves were mostly empty, some even pulled away from their metal backs and tossed to the floor. Still, there were some bottles of sparkling water and cans of ginger ale pushed to the back of some shelves, and they might even spot some bottles of still water if they were lucky.

  They started hauling bottles into the cart. For the first few weeks after she’d come back to LA, Joe had been the one to go on most of the supply runs, always leaving bills near the cash register to pay for what they’d taken. But then he’d run out of bills, and it wasn’t like there was anyone left to claim them, anyway. Liv had convinced Joe that they’d settle up with the grocery chain after fixing the city.

  Peter hummed as they worked, his voice growing louder and louder until his humming transformed into words.

  “It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fiiiiine.”

  “Really?” Liv rolled her eyes as she tossed a six-pack of orange-flavored mini water bottles into the cart.

  “Come on, Liv, there’s no one in here. There’s no one for miles. If you’re going to have an apocalypse, you might as well revel in the upsides. Like singing at the top of
your lungs in a grocery store without people looking at you weird.”

  Liv sighed, looking up the darkened aisle. “I don’t really think this situation has any upsides.”

  “You’re right,” Peter said. “We should definitely be depressed all the time instead. Spend another few hours sitting in the dark, bitching about the heat and talking about the dead bodies you guys keep finding.”

  “Peter—”

  “I know I’m not out there with you, seeing what you’re seeing every day. But I’m living this, too. I’m worried, too. About Malquin being here and maybe still looking for us, and about who’s killing all those Knights. About if things will ever be normal again. But right now, in this very second, we’re in the middle of an abandoned grocery store, Liv. We’re filling up a cart with whatever we want, and no one’s yelling at us. It’s every foster kid’s dream. Hell, it’s every kid’s dream.”

  Liv couldn’t help laughing. “I think you and I have very different dreams.”

  Peter smiled. Behind the lenses of his glasses, Liv spotted a familiar glint in his eyes, one she hadn’t seen in months. It was the same sort of spark she’d seen in him when he first came to LA and learned about the portals. He’d been more excited at the prospect of an adventure than scared of the dangers they were facing. It was that same spark that had made him run off to another world with Emme. But it was also that spark that made Peter . . . Peter. And it had been gone for a long time.

  “Maybe you’re right.” Peter sighed, leaning on his crutch.

  Liv looked over the boring items in their cart, thinking. They only ever took exactly what they needed on these supply runs. It had never occurred to her to turn it into something fun.

  She looked up at a Peter with a grin.

  “Maybe . . . or maybe I just want to keep all the Doritos to myself.”

  Peter grinned. “You’d have to get to them before me.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  “It’s a promise.” Peter repositioned himself on his crutch and threw his free hand into the air. “Then let the Great Doritos Hunt begin!”

  Liv couldn’t help laughing as Peter hobbled off from her quickly, making his way to the snack food aisle. She turned on one heel and ran toward the front registers instead. She knew that she was wasting time, and that there was so much she needed to do. Get supplies. Keep tracking down Knights. Try not to think about Cedric. Fix the world. But for now—for just this second—she didn’t want to think about earthquakes or Gravity Incidents or portals. She wanted, for once, to focus on an upside.

  Even if it was just one small, Cool Ranch–flavored upside.

  Liv searched through the smaller shelves that lined the registers. Most of the candy, mints, and batteries were gone, the tabloids and magazines left behind. Liv kept her eyes peeled for the shiny corner of a Doritos bag, a smile still on her face. That is, until movement outside the store’s large front window caught her eye.

  Someone was slipping out a window of the apartment building next to the Ralphs. Merek.

  “What’s he doing?” Liv murmured. She moved closer to the window, watching as Merek gripped the edge of a railing and dropped down to the concrete.

  “Give up already?” Peter called from behind her.

  But Liv didn’t turn to face him. Instead, she ran outside.

  “Merek?” Liv called, her feet slapping against pavement. Across the parking lot, Merek’s head shot up. His cheeks colored, as though he’d been caught doing something.

  “What were you doing up there?” Liv asked, slowing as she neared the apartment building. “Why—”

  But Merek’s head jerked—not to look at Liv, but at something behind her. His eyes narrowed, his entire body tensed. Liv’s heart raced as she turned, but all she saw was a tall man slowly ambling down the sidewalk in front of the parking lot, heading toward the apartment building. The man appeared to be limping, dragging one foot behind him and wincing in pain with each step.

  Before Liv could ask Merek what was wrong, he went shooting off like a snapped rubber band—one aimed directly at the tall stranger.

  “Merek!” Liv yelled. She ran after him, but he was a Guardian—too fast for her to catch. The tall man looked up as Merek approached, and Liv got a better view of his face. His skin was paper white, and he wore a pair of tortoiseshell glasses. He tried to run, but he was moving too slowly.

  Merek reached the man and threw him, face-first, to the ground.

  “Hey!” Liv yelled, panting as she drew closer.

  “It’s him,” Merek growled. He was heaving, his eyes still full of fury. “The Knight who hurt Shannon.”

  Liv could barely process Merek’s words. The Knight who hurt Shannon? But how? And then it clicked—the reason Merek always wanted to come to this particular Ralphs, and why he’d been coming out of the apartment building window.

  “You’ve been looking for him, haven’t you? All this time?”

  Merek didn’t bother responding. He put one toe under the man’s stomach and rolled him over onto his back.

  Liv gasped. Up close, the man’s skin was ghostly white and cracking in places, fine dark lines trailing out from the corners of his mouth and eyes. He smelled terrible, like a combination of sewage and rotting meat. But that wasn’t what made Liv draw back in shock. It was his eyes—his all-black eyes, big and wide as marbles.

  The man wasn’t a man at all. He was a wrath.

  Merek and Liv both took a step back at the same time, just as the pale man gnashed his sharpened teeth together and then spasmed in a cough.

  “That’s not . . . possible,” Merek said.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Liv whispered at the same time.

  Because even aside from looking like a monster in human form, there was clearly something very, very wrong with this man. He tried to roll back into sitting position, but didn’t seem to have the energy to get up off the concrete. He opened his mouth to speak, but a black bubble formed over his lips instead. It popped, dribbling a bit of blackish fluid down the side of his chin.

  “What’s going on?” Liv heard Peter ask. She turned to see her brother moving across the parking lot as fast as he could on one crutch.

  “Stay back!” Liv yelled. “It’s . . . a wrath. I think.”

  “No, he’s a Knight,” Merek said. “I remember his face. I remember what he did—”

  “We should try to get him to Joe,” Liv said, cutting Merek off quickly. If she could just think of a plan for what to do next, it might quiet the panic in her mind. “See if he knows anything—”

  “Liv,” Merek snapped. “This man is a Knight—was a Knight—I saw him just two months ago, and he was a man, not a wrath. The same one who hurt Shannon. I am positive.”

  Liv shook her head. “But that can’t be. How can he be a Knight and a wrath?”

  On the ground, the man gurgled again. More black fluid came from his mouth. His thin hands curled into fists.

  “Hey,” Merek said to the man—the wrath—whatever. “What are you?”

  On the ground, the man didn’t respond. His black eyes flitted back and forth, back and forth.

  “He is dying.”

  The man’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Without thinking, Liv dropped down to her knees next to him. She’d seen eyes like his before—in Los Angeles and in Caelum both. This creature didn’t have horns or thick graying skin, but she knew what he was. There was no denying it.

  “What happened to you?” she asked, trying to keep the man’s attention.

  His jet-black eyes settled on hers, but she couldn’t read anything in them but fear. His face grew paler by the second, the lines around his mouth getting darker. He stopped trying to talk, and then fell still. Though his eyes were still open and staring, Liv knew they were no longer seeing her.

  “He’s gone,” she whispered.

  Merek still looked down at the man, his face twisted in disgust. “Good.”

  “Merek,” Liv said, “no matter what this�
��person—did, I don’t think he deserved this.”

  “What is this?” Peter asked. “What the hell is going on?”

  “I have no idea,” Liv whispered, her eyes still transfixed on the dead man with the wrath’s eyes. If Merek was right, if the creature before her had been a man, then somehow he’d been transformed into a monster. She had no clue how that was even possible, or what it meant. No clue if this, too, was somehow her fault. And no clue what strange and terrible thing might happen next.

  How could she get used to this new reality—let alone fix it—when the rules kept changing?

  THE MAN WHO WOULD BE KING

  King Cedric III had an itch he just could not scratch.

  Literally—he had an itch above his knee that would be near impossible to reach through his layers of pants and robes. And even if he could reach it, it would be considered rude to interrupt his audience session to do so.

  So he bit his lip, trying to take his attention away from his knee and focus on what the man in front of him was saying. It was difficult to do, especially as the air in the audience chamber was so stifling hot that more than a few guards around the edges of the room were on the verge of nodding off. Plus, the man speaking to Cedric had his head down and directed his words at the ground rather than looking his king in the eye.

  His king.

  It still felt unreal to Cedric, though his coronation ceremony had taken place almost immediately after they’d put his father in the ground, nearly two months past. But it was a lot to get used to all at once—the sheer number of men and women, from the guards to the cooks, who looked to him for direction every single day; the way servants no longer joked with him playfully, but instead averted their eyes when he spoke; the way the crown on his head pulled tight at the skin and gave him a constant headache—

  Stop complaining, Cedric. Pay attention.

  “—almost gone, Majesty. Not all of it, but almost all, and we don’t know what to do . . .”

  The man standing before the high-backed throne looked just a few years older than Cedric. He had wheat-colored hair covering the top of his head, though it was hard to make out his features as he stared intently at the stone floor. Cedric’s mind wandered as he imagined what the man was staring at down there, until he eventually realized the man had stopped talking.