He gives a slight nod. "I saw someone leaving earlier. He was dressed in soldier garb. Mack seemed upset, too, after he had left, but he didn't stay long enough for me to ask, and I figured it wasn't none of my business anyway. I figured he would have told me if it was any concern of mine. He went straight to the training room after that. I thought you were waiting for him there," he says.
"No, I was late. By the time I got there, he was fumin'. He was questionin' my loyalty to the rebellion. Askin' if I was only in it for my own selfish reasons or if I truly wanted to help. I don't get it."
Mack's behavior had really upset me, and I expect Jax to share in my indignation, but he just gives a hollow laugh at my words.
"And that surprises you? You haven't made any secret, Tara, that you’re in this for one reason and one reason only: Ben. Everything else is secondary to you."
I stare at him, shocked.
"That ain’t true!" I say. "I care about other stuff too. Findin' Jane and Thomas … helpin' the rebels … tryin' to make the world a better place for everybody."
"That's a crock of shite, and you know it." The venom in Jax's words startles me. "Not once have I heard you mention defeating the Prezedant or making the world a better place. All you ever say is, 'When I find Ben,' or, 'When we rescue Ben.' And you know what? I don't get it. I don't get your obsession with rescuing the golden boy. Is his rescue the end all for all of our problems? Is the world going to be all sunshine and roses once you have him back? 'Cause news flash, Tara, the world is still going to have the same problems. The Prezedant is still going to be around bringing his misery and fear and oppression. The children and mutants and less fortunate are still going to be in danger from him and his kind, and that includes Finn and me and my whole village. Maybe for once, you should look beyond the length of Ben's shadow and consider helping others than just yourself. Mack has every right to question your commitment 'cause, come to think of it, I do too."
My shock changes to a slow-burning anger. First Mack, now Jax? What the hell had I done to either one of 'em to make 'em talk to me this way? I’d done everything they asked of me so far, including bringing forth this stupid New Bloods’ curse that I still ain't sure I want to possess, and still they question my loyalty? And how dare he question the importance of my freeing Ben.
"Rescuin’ Ben is extremely important to me," I growl. "He’s all that I got left of my entire kin. I guess I cain't expect you to understand that since you still have your ma and Sky and the rest of your village, but me, I got no one. I got no kin, no family to call my own, and that scares me something fierce. He is, and always will be, a huge part of my life. Without him, there ain’t no me."
My words stun him into silence before it’s broken by a harsh snort.
"Shite, Tara is that what you actually think? That he’s all the family you have? That he’s the only person left for you to care about?" He runs a hand through his dark hair. "I can't believe you even feel that way. That is so unbelievably selfish and stupid and narrow-minded that I don't even know what to say."
Why is everyone attacking me today? I kinda wish Coral had just left me asleep in my bed.
"Oh, I think you've said enough already," I snap. "I’ve had just enough of you lot today, you and Mack. I don't need to stick 'round here to hear any more of what you both think of me."
I ignore his insistent yelling of my name as I hurry from the room. I don't want to hear any more of what he has to say. All I know is Ben would never treat me like that or say any of those hurtful things. Ben would know how I felt. He wouldn't have to question any of my motives. And he would never have called me stupid or selfish.
Damn Jax for pissing me off. Just when I think he’s starting to turn around from being a complete jackass, he proves me wrong again. How can he in one moment be the kind, caring Jax who comforted me when Finn was sick and then be the arrogant, know-it-all shite head in the next? I just don't get it or him. And why do I always let him push me this far into anger? I should be used to his self-righteous ways by now. It shouldn't get under my skin so much.
I ain't sure where I'm headed. I just know that I need to get away from this place and Jax and Mack at the moment. There’s too much in my head right now. I ain't sure where I can go, though. Is there any place I could go that would make me feel normal anymore? Any place where I could just be Tara and not a New Blood or a mutie or a freak? Somewhere where nobody wanted anything from me or didn't want me dead. My predicament hits me with alarming clarity, and I suddenly feel like I cain't breathe. Like if I don't get some fresh air soon, I’m gonna suffocate, so I make a beeline for the front door. I don't make it out before I hear my name.
"Tara, stop."
I think about ignoring Mack. I mean, he already yelled at me enough today. Why should I stick around to hear more? I take another step towards the door, desperately wanting to get outside.
"Please, I need to talk to you. I need to explain."
Sighing, I stop and turn around. He’s standing at the door to his book room, but he don't call it a library like Lily did. What was the name he used? Study. That was it. They cain’t even decide on the same name for a book room. No wonder this new world messes me up so much. I stare at him with wary eyes and raise a brow.
"You gonna yell at me some more?’Cause if so, I don't need to hear it," I say.
"Just get in here," he says in irritation, and I give in, following him into the richly decorated room. I’d been in this room before, but the feel of it never ceases to amaze me. The numerous books that lined his walls are worn from use and overflow from every nook and cranny. Weapons, knives, and shooters are stacked haphazardly in corners, and messy piles of papers and charts litter his desk. It’s the only room in this massive place that none of his help is allowed to touch and it shows. But for some reason, the messy room calms me. Maybe on some deep level, I connect with the room. Like no matter how messed up I am, I still serve a purpose like this room does.
He sweeps aside the mountain of papers as he sits and motions for me to take the other chair. I do as he suggests and sink into the soft, fragrant leather. He watches my every move with that one eye, and even though I wanna fidget under his stare, I meet his look without flinching.
"Sooo, we kind of got off on the wrong foot earlier," he says. I stay quiet. He clears his throat and continues. "Yes, well, forgive me. I did not mean to question your commitment or your abilities. I know you’re trying your best. I received some unsettling news, and I took my anger out on you. For that, I am sorry."
"What news?" I ask, my curiousity piqued.
"It doesn't matter," he says, trying to brush it aside, but I argue the point.
"It does matter. If you want me to be a part of this whole thing, Mack, then you cain't just tell me certain things and keep other stuff from me. I need to know everythin’ that’s happenin'. If I need to be totally committed, then you need to be the same."
Forming a steeple with his hands at the tip of his nose, he thinks for a moment, staring at me over his fingers before nodding.
"Very well. You’re right." Sighing, he drops his hands to his desk, and drums his fingers in a nervous pattern. "The visitor this morning was a soldier. A Prezedant aide. A spy for the rebels. He brought me news of one of our people. Someone very close to our cause. She has been detained."
I can tell by the pained look on his face that there’s more, and I feel that familiar clench of worry in my gut.
"Mack …"
He looks at me with eyes filled with sadness, and I know before he even says it.
"It’s Lily."
"No," I yell as I jump to my feet. "No. She said she was gonna be fine. Tater said they let her be."
"Tara, calm down. She has been taken to the Prezedant's estate, yes, but she is not harmed in any way. She’s alive; do not fear."
"Alive? For how long?" I cry. "How long before he kills her tryin' to make her talk? You have to get her outta there, Mack."
"I am aware. She’s no
t in any immediate danger for the moment. She’s not a prisoner in relative terms. She has not been charged with anything. Apparently, the Prezedant has his suspicions, so he ‘invited’ her to his estate to keep an eye on her. Thank the gods she is such a well-known healer. That’s the only thing keeping her alive right now. He’s just keeping her close to watch her, to see if she will slip up and lead him to others. Lily’s smart; she knows what his game plan is."
My fear lessens some at his words but doesn't go away entirely. First Ben, now Lily. We have to do something. Enough of sitting on our arses. I settle back down in the leather chair and take a deep breath.
"Why didn't you tell me this earlier? Why didn't you wake me this mornin' when your spy was here with the news?" I say, my fear escalating to anger.
"Your training is integral to our plan succeeding, Tara. I didn't want to distract you from that. I guess I didn't want to upset you," he says.
I snort at him."Well, guess what? Big time fail. I'm upset. Question is, what are we gonna do about it? What's the plan?"
"This," he says simply.
One finger stabs a white square of paper on his desk and pushes it towards me with such a look of disgust that I hesitate to pick it up. It looks harmless enough, but Mack's face scares me. Fighting my hesitation, I pick up what I believe to be paper, but I'm surprised at the stiffness. I ain't never seen a piece of paper so solid. It’s neatly folded, a beautiful bird in a rainbow of feathers adorning the top of it. I run my finger over the raised drawing, marveling at the workmanship. Inside of the fold, there are words written with such a flourish of loops and swirls that I find myself struggling to pick out the letters as I read it aloud.
"The Prezedant requests your presence at his annual masq- masqa…"
I struggle with the word, and Mack says it for me.
"Masquerade."
"Masquerade party at his home on the evening of the three and one… s…t."
Mack corrects my pronunciation of the numbers, and I shoot him an irritated glance.
"Thirty-first," I repeat it as one word like he’d done. "Festivities begin at 1600 on the eve hour. Please join him for an unforgettable night of delight and entertainment. Re…re-pond-ez… sil... voose…."
I give up on trying to say the last few words, but I get the gist of it all. It’s an invitation to a party. It don’t make sense.
"A celebration? We have to save Lily and Ben, and you’re goin' to a party?"
"Actually, we’re going to a party. As in me and you. Invited into the beast's lair itself," he says and gazes at me as I sit up straighter in my chair, letting his words sink in.
"You’re actually thinkin' about goin'? About me goin'? Why would you want me to get near him? You said yourself I ain't in no way ready to face him yet. I don't understand."
He nods at me, his one eye sparkling brightly.
"Just think about it, Tara. I didn't consider this damned event of his as a possibility at first either. I had forgotten all about this party and how announcing you as my kin would automatically put you on the list for an invitation. An error on my part to be sure. When this was handed to me this morning along with the alarming news of Lily's capture, I panicked a little." He grins at me. "I guess you got the brunt of that panic. You are correct; my first thought was that you could not be anywhere near him yet. You’re in no way ready, but then I realized there is a silver lining. It gives us access to that fortress of his without question. And no doubt that is where he’s keeping the boy as well as Lily now. There has been no sign of the boy anywhere in Skytown, but it’s said the Prezedant keeps his own little house of horrors in the bowels of his estate that not even I have been privy to. If the boy is being held anywhere, then that's where he would be. A masquerade ball is a costume party, an event where your face is expected to be covered. We walk straight in; we won’t have to sneak by or fight our way in. It’s a great opportunity for us to freely roam about to search for Lily and Ben."
Ah, so that’s the plan. To get his own little band of rebels inside to search for our people. Sounds like that’s the easy part. I reckon the hard part is getting them back out.
"Who will be going in?" I say eagerly now, realizing the impact of what he’s telling me.
"Well, my 'servants' will have to accompany us of course. That will give me the excuse to bring at least three men. The invite stands for me, you, Finn, who will not attend of course—he’s way too young, and this will be far too dangerous. And Jax. That gives us a total of six—"
"Wait, what? Jax?" That catches me off guard. "Thought the plan was to pass Jax off as one of your servants. Why would he be included on the invitation?"
"Yes, well, sometimes the best laid plans go awry. Jax simply does not have the humbleness and obscurity to pass himself off as a servant, so I improvised. When I introduced you all at the gate, Jax's identity was changed to your betrothed."
Funny. I coulda sworn Mack just said Jax is supposed to be my betrothed, my promised. But that cain't be right. Surely, I misunderstood.
"Can you say that again?" I say, sticking a finger in my ear and jiggling it to help my hearing. "I think I heard you wrong."
"You did not," Mack says, and as the horror of his words sink in, he at least has the decency to look embarrassed.
"Shizen. Are you pullin' my leg, Mack? Jax is supposed to be my promised?"
"In name only. Don’t get yourself worked up over this. I had to give some sort of explanation to his presence here," he counters.
"And that was the best you could come up with? Servant, stable boy, hell, shite shoveler woulda been better than my … promised." The word sticks in my throat.
He rolls his good eye at me.
"Stop overreacting, girl. It's not as if I am asking you to truly wed the boy. It's just a cover story. One that we will all have to pull off with perfection if we are to attend this event. The thirty-first is but three weeks away. We will have to do an incredible amount of training in that time, and you must work on your social skills. In preparing for that, I sent Tater to fetch someone to help you in that area. Someone knowledgeable but who we can trust to stay tight-lipped on everything they will see here. It’s necessary to help Ben and Lily."
I cain't believe we’re to go through with this. And what the hell does he mean help me with my social skills? I’m social enough, I reckon. But just like the dumbest fish, I fall for the dangley bait and ignore the little alarm bells going off in my head. If it meant helping Lily and possibly finding Ben, then so be it. I will do whatever it takes.
"You really think that's where he’s bein' kept? In the Prezedant's estate?" I say.
"Makes sense, really." Mack taps himself lightly on the forehead. "Don't know why I didn't think of that before. Ben has to be there. He is a very valuable asset; the Prezedant would want to keep him close."
My mindset changes in an instant. The slight panic I felt earlier at attending this celebration turns to excitement. This may be the opportunity we’ve been looking for to find Ben, finally. And all I gotta do is attend a party. Mind you, I still gotta pretend that I fit in with elite society and treat Jax like my promised, but how hard can it be?
6
The Training
"I told you I cain't do it," I snarl and stumble for about the twentieth time, falling painfully to the floor as my ankles twist yet again in these torturous devices called "dress shoes." What the hell is the Duchess thinking putting me in these and expecting me to walk normal. They have to be at least three times higher than my boots with a pointy, spiked heel that could probably take out an eye. No possible way I can walk in these death traps.
Duchess tuts at me in a way that has come to grate on my nerves these past few days and in her high pitched, nasally tone says, "Again. Pull her up, boys."
At her command, both my arms are grabbed and I’m hoisted to my feet by Beanie and Talbert, who quite mysteriously have overcome their fear at being inside Mack's home to be at her every beck and call. I'm sure it ain't got
anything to do with Duchess's tight dresses, or the way her chest seems to threaten to fall outta her dress at any given moment, or the fact that she ran the ill house, the brothel in Littlepass that Tater had tried to hide us in. I'm sure they ain't swayed by none of that, not those two. I ain't gonna lie. At first, it had been kinda nice having them not focus on me, but now? Now, their devotion to her just irritates me to no end.
I reach for 'em as they plop me back on my feet and step away, leaving me tottering on the ridiculous shoes and the fear of falling over again very real. Duchess steps in fronta me. She wears the exact same shoes and makes it look so easy that I actually hate her at this moment.
"Try it again, girl. Lean slightly back and walk heel to toe like I said. Don't rush … walk fluidly. Like so."
She takes a couple of steps and then twirls gracefully on her heels, looking like she was born with those damn shoes on her feet. I try to follow her example. I lean back and take a couple of steps, my feet hitting the floor with exaggerated thuds as I try to walk across the room. I concentrate hard, each step deliberate and measured. Finally, I reach the other side of the room without falling over, and I look up with a self-satisfied grin. I did it. But then I notice Duchess and Tater's looks of horror, and Beanie and Talbert, well, they're trying hard to keep it in, but I can see the idiotic grins behind their hands. They’re laughing at me.
"What?" I say, miffed at their reactions. I’d done it. What’s the problem now?
"Er, maybe, Duchess, we should get her some lower shoes. Yes, that's it. Smaller heels would be more suitable for the girl, don't you agree?" Tater finally breaks the heavy silence. "Because to be quite honest, I’ve seen elephants walk with more elegance and grace."
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