On the Meldon Plain (The Fourline Trilogy Book 2)

by Brondos, Pam

  “This isn’t going to hold me much longer.” He gestured to the cloud hiding his feet. He sank midcalf into its swirling gray wisps. “Let me in.”

  “Lights down,” Nat said. The bars of light disappeared, and the room was thrown into darkness. A triangular pendant light appeared above her and cast a warm glow.

  “You need to invite me in,” he reminded her. He sank lower into the cloud.

  “Come in,” she said quickly before he fell out of sight. Soris jumped over the ledge. “You look completely healed.” Nat gazed at the exposed skin around the neck of his loose brown shirt, unable to find any hint of blue skin or bite marks. “She did it. Ethet healed you,” she said, amazed. Hope surged within her.

  “No,” he said and turned away from her when she stepped closer.

  She felt her heart ache at the coldness in his voice. She wrung her hands and was about to apologize when his voice cut through the silence.

  “No one healed me,” he hissed. He spun in place and stood directly under the pendant light. Smooth blue skin rippled over his face, neck, and torso. His fingers fused together into the pointed ends of long spiderlike limbs. The brown shirt fell to the floor, exposing a gaping wound running down a rigid abdomen. Nat stumbled back as Soris transformed into the Nala she’d killed by the river.

  The creature’s meaty back legs twitched, and then it sprang into the air. Nat’s instincts kicked in even though her mind was tied up with the horror of the metamorphosis in front of her. She sprinted into the darkness of her dream space. A thin, high-pitched hiss filled the air, its horrible sound wrapping around her. The Nala’s feet jabbed the ground behind her. She instinctively veered left and felt a slight breeze cooling her brow. Her brain started thinking clearly, and she remembered this was her dream space. She could visualize anything she wanted.

  She imagined a protective space, and instantly a smooth cylinder thrust out of the ground, lifting her into the air. She closed her eyes and thought of Barba’s orb. She felt blazing warmth around her and opened her eyes to a hundred orbs hovering next to her. She focused on the balls of light to make them rain down on the Nala, pelting its skin.

  The creature dodged the orbs and probed the slippery surface of the cylinder for some purchase to cling to. Nat felt the weight of Barba’s old cloak around her shoulders. A dagger hung from her belt. A sense of strength surged through her, and the Warrior Sister markings of a vine and spear on her arm pulsed.

  “You’re dead!” she screamed at the Nala, enraged. The creature scurried around the base of the cylinder. “I killed you,” she growled.

  As she watched it open its black mouth and bite at the orbs hovering around it, she felt her anger bubble over. The cylinder disappeared. Nat landed softly behind the Nala. She stepped to the side and punched the old wound in its abdomen. The Nala doubled over with a gurgling sound.

  “What did you do with Soris?” she demanded. It stabbed the ground and vaulted toward her. Nat ducked and spun into the protective light of the orbs. The spheres brightened and locked together to create a blinding wall between Nat and the creature. The Nala dropped to all fours and shifted its weight back and forth as if it were winding up, ready to strike. Nat closed her eyes and let images roll through her mind.

  A spiral of wind rose from the ground and lifted the creature into the air. Nat focused on the spiral, making it spin faster and faster. The orbs dispersed, and the wind whipped Nat’s cape violently around her legs.

  “What did you do with Soris?” Her voice rose above the roar of the wind. The Nala responded with a long hiss from its narrow lips.

  Nat screamed in rage and the funnel twisted toward the ledge. A human figure shot out of the tornado’s eye. Instead of the Nala, Soris floated over the ledge and spun head over heels into the storm clouds of her dream.

  “No!” Nat screamed.

  “Nat! Wake up!” Nat’s eyes flew open. Cal and Viv stood at the foot of the loft bed, shaking her.

  “Are you okay?” Cal asked. Her eyes were wide, and her blonde hair stuck out at odd angles.

  “I’m okay, I’m okay.” Nat pulled away from them, her heart pounding.

  “You were screaming some weird name.” A deep line formed between Viv’s eyebrows. “It sounded like you were yelling ‘Soris.’”

  At the mention of his name, Nat leaned over the side of the loft and threw up.

  Viv brought Nat a cup of tea and tucked the edge of a blanket under her legs, swaddling her in the striped chair. Nat’s hands quivered when she took the mug. She sipped the hot liquid, burning her lip. Cal wiped the bottom rail of the loft bed a final time.

  “I am so sorry, Viv,” Nat said. The room smelled of vomit and herbal tea. Cal tossed the paper towel into the garbage and disappeared into the bathroom.

  “Could have been worse. You missed my bed, at least.” Viv shrugged. She pulled up a small square ottoman. Nat took another sip, then Viv removed the mug from her shaking hands. Cal emerged from the bathroom and sat on the edge of Viv’s bed, away from the freshly scrubbed floor.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Cal ran her hand over her hair. “I mean, it’s not like I see you that much since you never come home. But even I can tell you’re a serious mess.”

  Nat pulled the blanket tighter across her shoulders.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine.” Cal stood and paced the room. “Viv agrees with me and she lives with you.”

  Nat turned to Viv. Her roommate gave her an apologetic look and said, “Ever since you got back from J-term, you haven’t slept well, you’re constantly distracted, you’ve dropped weight. Every time I try to talk to you about what’s stressing you out, you blow me off or avoid me.”

  “I was busy like this before, Viv. I’m just not feeling . . .” Nat’s voice trailed off. The sharp pain burned deep in her shoulder. She grimaced and looked down, hoping neither Viv nor Cal would notice.

  “And then there’s the money that magically appeared in Mom and Dad’s account,” Cal continued ranting. “I know that money came from you. I don’t know what you did to get it.” She tilted her chin so Nat had to look up to meet her sister’s gaze. “My bet is it has something to do with why you’re a wreck. Mom and Dad can figure out their own problems. They don’t need you trying to fix everything and suffering a nervous breakdown in the process.”

  “Velvet touch, Cal, velvet touch,” Viv said. She pulled Nat’s hand into hers. “Look, can you agree with us that you need help?”

  Nat swallowed and nodded.

  “Good. Will you promise you’ll see someone?”

  “And not next week or next month—tomorrow,” Cal interjected. Viv held up her hand.

  “It’s okay, she’s right,” Nat admitted. “Tomorrow, I promise. I know who I need to see, and I’ll go tomorrow.” A strange sense of relief filled her as she spoke.

  “Good.” Cal flopped onto the air mattress shoved against the desks and pulled the green comforter over her head. Her feet dangled over the edge.

  “Do you need help getting back into the loft?” Viv asked, a look of concern on her face.

  “I think I’ll just stay in the chair, Viv.” Nat pulled her hand away.

  “Okay.” Viv switched on a dim light. “You’re probably not going to sleep, are you?” she asked as she got into her bed.

  “Probably not.” Nat took a long breath to steady her nerves. “Viv?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  Viv nodded and laid her head on her pillow, falling quickly asleep. After watching her roommate’s sleeping form and hearing her sister’s peaceful breathing, Nat pulled her arm out from beneath the blanket. She touched the vines and tiny spear, feeling a sense of calm even though Viv and Cal had just convinced her to do something she’d promised herself she’d never do.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “You’re kidding me,” Nat said to herself and banged her head against the doorframe. A “Closed” sign hung above a handwritten note on the
glass-paned door of the costume shop. “Closed for the season, please contact Barba Gate for inquiries at . . .” An illegible phone number followed.

  Desiccated leaves clustered around the door. She peered through the dirty windows. The shop was dark. A zombie dummy she’d dressed in the window when she’d worked in the costume shop in October lay in pieces on the floor. Her eyes lingered on the broken bits of the mannequin, wishing she’d known then what she knew now. If I’d been honest with Soris, he would’ve known I couldn’t protect him from the Nala.

  She walked past the building’s stucco front, determined to find Barba. She turned the corner of the adjoining warehouse to find the secure door Estos had brought her through so many months ago. Andris’ beat-up truck was parked next to it. Muddy snow covered the broken tailgate.

  She brushed a leaf off the intercom panel next to the metal entrance and pressed a button. “Sister Barba? Professor Gate?” She paused and glanced at the cab of the truck, half expecting to see Andris glaring back at her. “Um, it’s Nat, I need to—” The lock clicked open. She hesitated, then grabbed the handle and opened the door.

  Her boots clanked against the metal stairs. She leaned against the railing when she reached the walkway overlooking the interior forest, greenhouse, and practice arena that took up most of the warehouse. The blue training dummies still hung from the ceiling, interspersed among the trees. She picked up a small rock jammed into a walkway grate and tossed it at one of the suspended figures. The rock missed its mark and tumbled through the thick pine branches.

  Other than the familiar, continuous hum from the greenhouse fans, the warehouse was eerily quiet. She passed through an open door at the end of the walkway. Her steps down the stairs into the kitchen rang out. A single cup sat on the wooden kitchen table. She breathed in, smelling the dried herbs hanging from the ceiling racks, and tried to settle her nerves.

  Silence greeted her when she poked her head into the hallway leading to Ethet’s laboratory. It was dim, but a ray of light shone underneath the doors of the lab. She stumbled on the worn carpet and cursed under her breath before pushing open one of the doors.

  “Hello, Natalie.” Barba lifted a beaker of boiling water from a Bunsen burner and smiled. Nat took a seat on a familiar bench and watched Barba pour the water into two coffee cups. The table where Soris had lain after she’d brought him through the membrane was directly across from her. She looked away and found herself staring into the dark mouth of the tunnel leading to Fourline. She removed her jacket and cleared her throat.

  “Here,” Barba said. She handed Nat one of the cups. Steam curled around her face.

  “Smells familiar,” Nat said, glancing at the array of vials and bottles lining the shelves behind Barba. Did Ethet leave anything that will heal my wound or help me sleep through the night? she wondered.

  “Meldon tea, common beverage for Sisters,” Barba said, interrupting her thoughts. “You had several cups before you returned to Fourline.”

  Common for Sisters, but not me, Nat thought and placed her cup on the bench, in the void between her and the Sister.

  “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’ve finally come back here. I understand why you left us so quickly after you returned with Soris.” Barba’s intelligent eyes softened into a sympathetic look. “I suppose you’re now wondering why your markings never faded?”

  “Barba,” Nat interrupted. Being in the room with the tunnel to Fourline had only increased her anxiety, and Barba’s preoccupation with her markings put her on edge. “I didn’t come to discuss my markings. I’m having some problems.” Her eyes flickered toward the tunnel entrance.

  “What kind of problems?” Barba adjusted her glasses.

  “Sleeping, for one. I can’t sleep without dreaming of Soris and the Nala that bit him, the one I killed.”

  “You killed a Nala?” Barba sat upright.

  “Didn’t Soris tell you?”

  “Natalie, Soris had very little memory of what happened after the Nala attacked him.” Barba placed her cup next to the Bunsen burner and turned down the flame. “I think it’s best you share what occurred with me.”

  Barba’s serious tone caused a flutter of nerves in Nat’s stomach. Her chest tightened and she swallowed. She didn’t want to relive the memory of that day.

  “Well?” Barba crossed her arms and waited. The thrum reverberating from the tunnel entrance filled the silent space between them.

  “I fell asleep instead of watching out for him.” Nat’s voice broke. She traced the lip of her cup with her finger. “When I woke up, I knew something was wrong. The forest was quiet, no birdsong. Soris was by the river, filling our water flask.” Nat closed her eyes, remembering him turning and yelling before the Nala pounced. “A Nala leapt over me, slammed into my shoulder, and landed on Soris. I froze, Sister. I couldn’t move.” Her chin slumped against her chest. “It bit Soris and told me it would make him a duozi.” She wiped a tear away with the back of her sleeve.

  “Natalie, what happened to the Nala?”

  Nat sniffed and glanced at the Sister. She’d never seen Barba look so concerned.

  “It threatened me. I used your dagger and stabbed it, but it was too late for Soris. It was my fault, Barba. If I’d been honest with Soris and told him I wasn’t a real Sister, then maybe he wouldn’t have trusted me so much to protect him. Instead of protecting him, I froze,” she said, her lips turning down.

  “What did you do with the Nala’s body?”

  “What does it matter?” she asked, irritated with Barba’s interest in the creature. “It’s dead.”

  “It matters a great deal.”

  “I pushed the body into the river and went to find help for Soris.”

  Barba entwined her fingers and walked toward the tunnel entrance. “Natalie, these dreams you’ve been having . . . Are Soris and the dead Nala in them?”

  “Yes, and last night the creature got into my dream space.”

  “You invited it in?” Barba spun around so fast her glasses lifted off her nose.

  “No . . . Well, yes. I thought the Nala was Soris. Maybe it was. I don’t know.” She pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead. “Look, Sister, like I said, I need help. The Nala wounded me, and the wound hasn’t healed. And these dreams—”

  “It bit you?” Barba rushed to Nat.

  “No, it just grazed my shoulder.”

  Barba pulled the neck of her shirt down, exposing the discolored skin. She poked around the wound.

  “Did Ethet leave anything here that can heal this and stop my nightmares?” Nat stared at the wall of bottles and vials. “Ouch!” She flinched away from Barba’s probing fingers. Barba readjusted the neck of her shirt. She twisted her lips and regarded Nat for a moment before she spoke.

  “You’ll have to ask Ethet, Natalie.”

  “She’s coming back?” Maybe there was an end to her pain.

  “No, my dear, she’s not coming back. But you’re going to Fourline.”

  “What?” Nat’s mouth hung open. “I’m not going back! I never should have gone in the first place.” She thrust a finger at her chest. “If it wasn’t for me, Soris would be . . . Well, he’d be what he was instead of a duozi.”

  “Listen to me, Natalie.” Barba grasped her forearm. “You made it possible for Estos and everyone else to return to Fourline. Since then, we’ve learned how closely linked Mudug and the Nala are. He and the Chemist . . .” A distasteful expression crossed her face. Her grip tightened. “I don’t know how much you saw of Mudug’s dealings, but know this: The people of Fourline are nothing more than disposable pawns to him. People who disagree with him disappear or die like Emilia. He will continue to destroy anyone who counters him, and he’s letting the Nala run rampant. More people will end up like Soris if Mudug isn’t stopped.”

  She took a deep breath. “Estos is the one person who can expose Mudug for what he is and what he’s done.” She dropped her hand. “Without Estos, the rebels have no rallying caus
e. Don’t for a second think what you did was a waste. I am certain Soris feels the same way, regardless of his transformation.”

  “None of that changes the fact that Soris believed I would—that I could—protect him. He believed in me and I lied to him.” Nat clutched the front of her shirt and blinked away her tears. Expressing her guilt openly wasn’t cathartic; it was a knife to her heart.

  “When we sent you in, none of us believed a Nala would attack a Warrior Sister. What happened to Soris wasn’t your fault. It was ours. The Nala were bound by an accord that should have kept both of you safe. We were wrong. The accord is broken.”

  “The Rim Accord.” Nat wiped her nose with her sleeve. She felt exhausted from the rawness of her emotions.

  “Yes, the Rim Accord,” Barba responded. Her expression shifted and she gave Nat a compassionate look. “Wrong or right, I understand you feel responsible for what happened to Soris. If you return to Fourline, you can help not only yourself but Soris as well.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, feeling numb and dizzy at the same time.

  “You need to end the Nala that attacked Soris.”

  “Didn’t you hear me?” Nat snapped. “I stuck a dagger through its abdomen. It’s dead.”

  “No, Natalie, it’s not. Part of it still lives on in both you and Soris.”

  Nat stood up but swayed slightly, shocked by Barba’s words.

  “Sit,” Barba ordered. She ushered Nat to a stool across from the stainless-steel counter. “The Nala have something similar to a gland located in their lower abdomen that’s connected to their brain through a neural pathway. The gland secretes a substance that we Sisters call ‘remnant.’ It is transmitted through Nala venom, and we think it passes indirectly through their blood, sweat, and saliva as well. The Nala use remnant for many purposes: directions, communication, and”—Barba placed her hands on the counter—“as a way to connect with their victims even after they die.”