"He said things he shouldn't have known," Ms. Abagail said softly.
Wyatt didn't have an answer for her. And the urgency of their position negated the need to give one.
"Lucy," Ms. Abagail said as the sound of the distant army became less distant with each breath.
Lucy didn't respond.
"The Bad Man's been latched on to her for way longer than I've known it even existed," Wyatt said. "At least in talking form, anyway."
"Well, I hate to state the obvious, but we need to get out of here. We can worry about the Bad Man later," Ms. Abagail said.
Wyatt cast a glance at the sky, expecting it to be filled with the fire-braided Draygans, but it was still clear. For now. "It may take a while for the Regents to get to us, but that won't matter if they send their Draygans ahead first."
"Suggestions?" Ms. Abagail asked.
"Nothing any of us are going to like," he said, turning his attention to his sister. He took a breath and grabbed her shoulders. He shook her as hard as he dared. "Lucy!" he bellowed.
The girl snapped from her trance and locked eyes with Wyatt. He didn't let up. The time for subtlety had passed, and she already hated him and blamed him. What was one more grievance?
"You need to get us out of here, right now," he said forcefully, still gripping her tightly by the shoulders.
Lucy shook her head. "I can't."
"It doesn't matter where you take us, but you need to use your magic and get us out of here."
"I can't," she repeated, shaking her head.
Wyatt shook her harder and brought his face close to hers. "If you don't, we are going to die. Or worse. The Lord Regent and all of his monsters are coming for us. For you. We need your magic and we need it now."
"The Bad Man said I can't play with magic and memories anymore," Lucy said, crying.
Wyatt faltered for a bit. He had feared what the Bad Man had said to her at the end. He had thought it was more blame against himself, but now he saw it was far worse than that.
"You have to," Wyatt said.
"The Bad Man said he would leave us all alone if I didn't go into any more memories."
"Uh, Wyatt..." Ms. Abagail said.
Wyatt knew they were running out of time.
"Lucy," he said. "The Bad Man is a liar. Everything it told you—has ever told you—is a lie. It doesn't want any of us to remember. It just wants to torture us. Scare us."
"I am scared," Lucy said. "But if I don't do it again, we'll be safe. I want to be safe."
Ms. Abagail said something, but Wyatt didn't hear it. A deep anger was brewing at his core.
"Lucy!" he shouted as loud as he could. Lucy flinched and squeezed her eyes shut. Even in the moment, Wyatt hated what he was doing to her. "The Lord Regent is coming. And when he does, we lose. Everyone loses. Ms. Abagail, you, me, Rozen, Athena—"
"I don't care about them," Lucy blurted. Her eyes opened, the blue of them like hard ice. "You care about Athena more than you care about me. I'm your sister."
It was Wyatt's turn to flinch. "I do care about you," he said.
"No, you don't," Lucy shouted. Somehow, she got her legs beneath her and lunged upward and outward from the shelf of snow, bowling Wyatt over. "Liar! You never cared about me. You killed Mom and Dad and left me. You left me! And now all you want is dumb, stupid Athena. You left me alone!"
"That's not true," Wyatt said. Ms. Abagail grabbed his arm and helped him stand.
"The Bad Man was right. You're the monster. And if you want Athena so bad then go get her," Lucy said. Her face was red, coated in a mix of tears and sweat. She took a step toward Wyatt.
Wyatt opened his mouth to further plead with her, but then he caught a glint of green in the middle of her chest, obscured by her shirt, but still visible.
"That's right," he said as sternly as he could. Lucy froze. Wyatt didn't let her recover. He stepped forward, saying, "I do only care about Athena. She's a real friend, unlike you. The Bad Man is a liar, but I guess you're just too stupid to realize it. Athena wouldn't be so gullible. She'd fight."
Lucy's frown deepened and her hands twisted into small fists. Wyatt could see her whole body tense, ready to attack. But then there was a brief flash of green light and she stopped. Her entire demeanor melted away as she grabbed her amulet.
"No!" she screamed. "No, I can't! He said I can't."
Wyatt grabbed Ms. Abagail by the arm and surged forward, eyes locked on the growing green light. He cursed himself for whatever damage he had caused to their relationship, but they had to survive. He would find a way to repair the rift.
Suddenly, Lucy stopped shouting at the same moment the green glow of her hidden amulet winked out. Wyatt's eyes had never left the magical stone, knowing it would be their savior, but it no longer burned with its telltale magic. Had they already crossed into a different place and time? No, that couldn't be. Wyatt hadn't been touching Lucy, and as far as he knew, he needed to be in contact with—
"Lucy!" Ms. Abagail shouted, breaking from his side and snapping Wyatt from his stupor.
Ms. Abagail caught Lucy as she fell. It was then that Wyatt saw the look in Lucy's eyes and noticed the feathers of the arrow shaft that jutted from his sister's shoulder. And it was then that he sensed the presence behind him.
Wyatt didn't bother turning to face the enemy. He knew it would accomplish nothing. He went to Lucy, falling at her side, dragged down by his leaden heart. He cradled her body along with Ms. Abagail. Lucy's eyes danced around, unfocused, and blood was already turning her shirt red.
"I'm sorry," Wyatt managed to say. "Lucy, I'm sorry."
CHAPTER NINE
WYATT HARDLY REMEMBERED the journey through the snow to the Regency's camp. He couldn't let his eyes or hands leave Lucy. It seemed Ms. Abagail felt the same. Together they held her as the Regents tossed them unceremoniously into the back of a wooden sled. They didn't bother binding their hands. There would be no escape.
"It's not your fault," Ms. Abagail said.
In his periphery, Wyatt could see nothing but armed soldiers. The snow crunched beneath the sled, but he could no longer see it. He flicked his gaze to Ms. Abagail for a brief moment.
"I shouldn't have said those things," he said.
Wordlessly, he slipped his hands under Ms. Abagail's and pressed on the flesh around the arrow that remained buried in Lucy's shoulder. Ms. Abagail withdrew her hands and flexed them. It seemed the bleeding had stopped, but Lucy remained unresponsive. Not unconscious, but not fully aware either. Wyatt thought it was shock, but he also wondered if she hadn't retreated into her mind on purpose, to escape him. If she survived, Wyatt feared it wouldn't be his sister that emerged. And he couldn't blame her.
"Maybe not, but I know what you were trying to do," Ms. Abagail said. "Sometimes you have to do something...crappy...to do something good."
"What if she never comes back? What if she—"
"Don't even think that, Wyatt. She'll be okay."
"How can you say that?" Wyatt asked, looking up at her. He could see pillars of smoke rising into the blue sky, and he could smell the rich scent of burning wood. It wouldn't be long until they met whatever fate awaited them. "None of this is okay. It just keeps getting worse and worse. Lucy was right. It is my fault. Magic, no magic. Doesn't matter. I'm a failure."
Ms. Abagail looked like she wanted to say something, but didn't.
The sled slowed to a stop and they were dragged off it. Wyatt clung to Lucy, trying to shield her from further trauma, forcing the Regents to drag them together. Ms. Abagail shoved off the Regents with a curse and walked alongside them, staying close to Wyatt and Lucy.
The valley before Sanctuary was filled with Regents, tents, and what Wyatt thought were siege weapons in early stages of construction. The sky was littered with Draygans, further boxing them in. The ground was a mix of mud and trampled snow, but Wyatt thought little of it as the Regents dragged him through it. He fought to keep Lucy away from the muck, fearing what the filth woul
d do to her wound. Her eyes remained unfocused, but she held a weak smile and Wyatt felt her fingers tighten around his arms.
"I'm not getting in there," Ms. Abagail said at some point.
Wyatt looked at her, standing with her arms folded across her chest, looking more defiant than Wyatt could dream of being in the moment. He wanted to fight. He wanted to shout and kill. And he wanted most of all to take back the words he had said to Lucy. Twice now he had let his frustration take hold of his tongue, and neither time led to anything but further anguish.
Without saying a word, a Regent shoved Ms. Abagail with all four of his arms. The young woman left her feet with a shout and then disappeared into the ground. It was just enough to bolster Wyatt into action. He struggled to stand in the muck while still holding on to Lucy, but he managed.
"I want to see the Lord Regent," Wyatt said calmly, turning away from the large hole in the ground into which Ms. Abagail had vanished.
Wyatt was surrounded by Regents, but none seemed to hear his request. They slowly closed in on him, forcing him nearer the hole. Wyatt had no idea how far down it went; he could see only blackness from where he stood, and no sounds came from the depths.
"Take me to the Lord Regent," Wyatt said, louder this time, eyes flashing from Regent to Regent.
Again, they ignored his demand, continuing to close in. Wyatt was less than a step from the muddy maw. Lucy clung weakly to his chest and Wyatt squeezed tighter, though he knew his grip was weakening. But he wouldn't let her go.
A Regent stepped up to Wyatt and leaned forward until they were face to face. He sneered and raised a single finger, pointing it at Wyatt.
"I demand to be taken to—"
Before Wyatt had a chance to finish, the Regent jabbed his finger into Wyatt's forehead with such force that he nearly flew off his feet. Instead of flailing his arms and fighting for balance, he ducked his head against Lucy's, held her tight, and let himself fall backwards into the unknown.
Ms. Abagail had tried to cushion Wyatt and Lucy's fall, but the impact had still sent lightning bolts of pain throughout his body. But he held on to Lucy, hoping to have lessened any potential damage to her.
Ms. Abagail grunted as she helped guide Wyatt to the wall of their new prison. The hole was deep enough that they sat upon wet, not frozen, soil. In fact, leaning against it, Wyatt felt warmer than he had on the surface.
"Here, let me take her," Ms. Abagail said, loosening Wyatt's grip on his sister.
Wyatt nodded dumbly and helped lay Lucy on her back as gently as possible. The sun gave enough light to see by, and after a quick glance around, Wyatt knew they inhabited the pit alone. Part of him had hoped to find Athena. Or Rozen. Or even a friendly elf.
"Lucy, can you hear me?" Ms. Abagail asked.
Wyatt grimaced at the pain in his ribs and leaned close to Lucy's face, trying to detect even the slightest indication of life.
Lucy mumbled something, eyes still closed. Her words were little more than noise, but it was enough for Wyatt to breathe a sigh of relief.
"Should we take the arrow out?" he asked.
Ms. Abagail shook her head. "Don't think so. It may be the only thing slowing the bleeding. If we rip it out, she could bleed to..."
"We have to do something."
"Give me your shirt," Ms. Abagail said, gesturing at Wyatt.
In another time and place, Wyatt would have argued, or at least come up with a sarcastic response, but there, next to his dying sister, he did as was asked. He handed his shirt to Ms. Abagail, who pressed it against Lucy's wound, carefully wrapping it around the protruding arrow shaft. Lucy squirmed and moaned, but quickly fell silent again.
Ms. Abagail looked up and nodded at Wyatt. "You okay?"
Wyatt looked down at his chest. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's from having my Druids' seed ripped out," he said, running a finger over the vicious scar centered on his chest. "Long story."
"Huh?" Ms. Abagail asked, brow furrowed, head tilted to the side.
"My scar. It's fine. My own fault, anyway. Kind of what got us in this mess, though."
"Wait. You think that happened here? In fantasy land?" Ms. Abagail asked.
A dull thud from above whisked away any response Wyatt could have given. Looking up, he saw the dark gray of a metal grate lying across the pit's opening, sealing them in. It took away some of their light, segmenting the sun into a dozen singular beams.
"Is that really necessary?" Wyatt shouted upward. "Not like we were climbing out any time soon!"
He received no response. Something about that infuriated Wyatt, and he climbed to his feet, still shouting. "Hey, you can't just keep us down here! I know the Lord Regent wants me. Come and get me! Unless you're scared. Is that it? Big, bad Lord Regent scared of a fifteen-year-old boy and his magic sister? Well, you should be. Because I will get out of here, one way or another, and when I do, you're all going to pay! You hear me?!" There came nothing but the sound of wind whistling over the metal grate. Wyatt snarled and thought to jump for the opening though it lay a dozen feet over his head. "Answer me! I said—"
Ms. Abagail put a hand on his back. "That's not going to help, Wyatt," she said calmly.
Wyatt turned so abruptly that he caught her with an errant elbow and sent her to the ground. She hit the ground with a wet smack and cursed.
Wyatt fell to his knees in front of her. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean...are you okay?"
Ms. Abagail pushed herself up until she was sitting against the dirt wall and stretched out her legs. She stared back for a long moment before saying, "Yeah, I'm fine. But you need to keep your head on straight. Lucy needs you focused. And so do I. We're in this together, remember? Whatever this is."
Wyatt nodded dumbly and sat next to her, within reach of Lucy. He watched her chest slowly rise and fall, reassuring himself that there was still hope.
"We need to fix her up," Wyatt said. "She's our only way out of this. Unless they do take us to the Lord Regent, and even then..."
"...we need her magic," Ms. Abagail finished. "Yeah, I know. But until that happens, we need to stay focused. Hopefully Lucy will pull through on her own, but..."
"You don't need to keep censoring yourself," Wyatt said, still watching Lucy. "I know this is bad. I know she could die; we could all die."
Ms. Abagail said nothing more, and Wyatt had nothing left to say. He shifted against the dirt and narrowed his gaze, ever scrutinizing Lucy's still form, fearing each rise of her chest would be the last.
Something hitting the floor of the prison pit shook Wyatt awake. He lunged forward, anxiously looking about.
"Lucy!" he shouted at the same time he cursed himself for having fallen asleep.
Their dirt cell was dark, only the faint glow of a hidden moon allowing Wyatt to see his own hands, if just barely. Ms. Abagail shifted at his side and groaned. "Ah, shit," she said.
"What?" Wyatt hissed in her direction. He could only see a dim outline of the woman as she stood up.
"Forgot where we were for a bit. Didn't mean to fall asleep."
"Me neither," Wyatt admitted. He crawled forward and found Lucy, first with his hands and then with his eyes as he leaned close enough to hear her soft breath. "She's still breathing," he said. "Lucy?" His sister rolled toward him and said something that sounded like his name. "No, don't move, it's all right," he said, wrapping her hand in his. It was warmer than he expected, and new hope grew within him.
"I can't see a thing," Ms. Abagail said.
"What was that?" he asked, trying to decipher the gloom.
"Not sure," Ms. Abagail said.
Wyatt stood, cupped his hands around his mouth, and bellowed, "Hello! Hello! You can't keep us down here forever!"
"Ow," Ms. Abagail said. "Oh, I think they dropped food or something."
Wyatt turned toward her voice, but couldn't locate her.
"Yeah, feels like biscuits or rolls or something. Just a few, though."
"How about you come down here yourself?" Wyatt
shouted.
"I don't think that's going to help," Ms. Abagail said, appearing at his side. Wyatt could make out a small bundle in her hands.
"Well, we need to do something," Wyatt said. "Lucy may still be alive, but she needs help, and I'm tired of being toyed with."
Something moved at the edge of their pit. Wyatt heard the sound of snow crunching and a fleeting shadow darted past the grate.
"Hey!" he shouted. "I see you, coward!"
"Wyatt," Ms. Abagail urged.
He shrugged off her touch and meant to resume his shouting, but a voice from above answered before he could.
"It would be best if you remained silent," whispered the voice.
"Who's there?" he asked. "Who are you?"
"Doesn't matter," the voice answered. "But if you wish to survive, you must remain silent."
"And how long will that last us?" Wyatt challenged. "My sister needs help. She's hurt. Tell the Lord Regent I'm tired of playing his games."
"Please, Master," the voice said, still whispering from just out of view.
"I said—wait, Master?" he asked. "Who are you? Why did you call me that?" Something about the voice was familiar, but it was difficult to be certain, hearing only a whisper.
"A friend," the voice replied. "There is more than just stale biscuits in the bundle."
Wyatt heard Ms. Abagail drop to her knees and begin rummaging through the sack's contents, but Wyatt was too preoccupied with the stranger to join in. "Who are you? Why are you helping us? Do I know you? How did—"
"Please," the voice interjected. "There is little time."
"Time for what?" Wyatt asked.
The only reply Wyatt got was the muffled sound of fleeing footsteps in the snow. He stared up at the grate for several more moments, but knew the stranger was gone.
"What is all this?" Ms. Abagail asked.
Wyatt shook his head and knelt next to her. Ms. Abagail had spread out all the items they had been given. Besides four biscuits, there was a pouch of herbs, a small vial of dark fluid, three marble-sized black orbs, and a wad of thread with a small, curved needle.
The Remembered Page 9
