Perchance to Dream

by Lyssa Chiavari

  “‘Fits’?” Ferda repeated. “You mean, like seizures? Miranda, all that stuff your friend was saying this morning—was he talking about you?”

  “No. I mean, he was, but it’s nothing to concern yourself over, Ferda…”

  She put her hands on my shoulders and looked me square in the eye. “Miranda, please. You are in a very dangerous situation. You have got to tell me everything that’s going on.”

  I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers. Every part of me wanted to fight her on this. I’d never been able to tell the whole truth to anybody. I wasn’t even sure I knew how.

  But I was sick to death of being alone. I couldn’t carry this by myself anymore. And if I had to have someone share the load with me, for some reason… I wanted it to be Ferda.

  So I told her. Everything.

  The truth was draining. It poured out of me like water from a sieve, exhausting me completely. When I got to the end, I felt even more tired than I had when she’d woken me, but my soul felt light in a way I’d never experienced before.

  Ferda’s arms were around me, holding me up and enveloping me with warmth. “Damn it, Miranda, you can’t stay there,” she said softly in my ear. “This is too much for any person. We need to get you off Gale.”

  I smiled into her shoulder. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  She pulled back and looked down at me. “I mean it. You’d be safe here on Orbe. And we have actual doctors here who might be able to do something about your seizures. None of that ‘treatable ailment’ nonsense.”

  I blinked. “Truthfully?”

  “Of course! Papá has starships at his disposal. We can bring you here tonight. But we can’t get into your city, it’s too well armed. Can you get out?”

  The excitement I’d felt at the idea of leaving was dampened immediately by a fresh wave of anxiety. My stomach flip-flopped with nausea. I swallowed it down and said, “I’ll have to speak with my parents first. If I leave, they’ll have to come as well.”

  “Uh, no, no no,” Ferda interrupted. “I needed to talk to you about that. I didn’t want to say anything while you were feeling ill, but… I sensed you, earlier. I know you heard what we said. Prosper is your father?”

  I looked down at my feet. “Evidently.”

  “Everyone on Orbe believes Prosper was killed by Nio and Bastian. If he’s alive, then…” She hesitated, then blurted, “Then maybe we were wrong. Maybe his brother didn’t betray him. Maybe he was working with them all along.”

  I gaped at her. “Of course not!”

  “Can you be sure?”

  I bristled. Yes, my father had lied to me, but he’d been trying to protect me. His fear of the Watch and the Brotherhood was real. I didn’t know how he’d escaped them, but he must have, somehow. I couldn’t believe he would have voluntarily forced not just our family, but the whole of Gale into the lives we led now. There was a reason for everything that had happened, and I needed to know the truth. I couldn’t just abandon my parents to the Watch.

  “We can’t take any chances, Miranda. It’s too dangerous. Maybe sometime in the future, we can go back for them, but—”

  “No,” I said firmly. “I’m not going to leave my family, and certainly not before I even get a chance to talk to them. Even if my father is guilty, what about my mother? And what about Ari? I can’t go until I know he’s safe, too.”

  “Miranda, every minute you stay on Gale, your life is at risk.”

  “You think I’m not aware of that?” I snapped. “That’s been my entire existence from the moment I was born.”

  Ferda’s eyes glistened, but she fought back resolutely. “I just want to protect you,” she said.

  The openness in her voice made my heartbeat stumble. I wanted to reach up and wipe the tears off her cheeks. I balled my hands into fists instead.

  “But I have to protect my family,” I said.

  “Miranda,” Ferda protested, but I shut my eyes and closed the connection.

  ❦

  My parents did not return home that night.

  It was past midnight when I awakened after my argument with Ferda, but they were not in the bedroom beside me. It took some time for the effects of the amber liquid to wear off enough for me to rise from my pallet and investigate the kitchen, but they were not there, either.

  I couldn’t understand why my parents had not returned home. Or had they come home, found me unconscious, and left to get help? Travel was forbidden after nightfall; perhaps they got caught by sunset and would not be able to go out again until daybreak.

  Or maybe Ferda was right, and they couldn’t be trusted after all.

  I sat awake for the rest of the night, worrying. My body felt sluggish and heavy, and it was difficult to think clearly. I didn’t know why the medicine had had this effect on me, but I was certain that I would not be taking it again.

  Throughout the night, I heard sounds I’d never heard before, like whispered voices. Snatches of conversation here and there, though when I strained to listen, the sounds would vanish. I couldn’t be sure if it was the wind or my imagination, but I felt unsettled.

  At last, the sun began to rise, but still my parents did not appear. I wasn’t sure what I should do—stay and wait for them? Education was compulsory, so if I skipped I would be sure to receive a visit from the Watch. And I couldn’t guarantee my father and mother would return, even if I stayed here.

  I was beginning to regret not accepting Ferda’s offer of escape.

  Finally, I could wait no longer. I would just have to go to education and try to figure out what to do next afterward. At least this would give me the chance to check on Ari and make sure he was all right.

  The throng of my peers seemed louder than usual as I walked to the education center, as if there were more voices speaking than there were people on the street. They echoed bizarrely, reverberating out of sync. The muscles on the right side of my face tightened again, the way they had that day at Ban’s home. I needed to focus on something else.

  Eventually I settled for counting my footsteps. One hundred twenty-seven down the street. Sixty-three through the square. Up the steps, thirteen. Down the hallway to my classroom, twenty-nine.

  I passed through the doorway and froze, taken aback by the complete silence that I encountered inside the classroom.

  The neat rows of desks had been rearranged. The day before, the room had held five rows of five. Now there were six rows of four. I realized, with a lurch of my stomach, that a desk was missing.

  Ari.

  My peers hesitated in the aisles, glancing at the educator for instructions. His smile was pleasant and unwavering. “Come, now,” he said, “we haven’t all morning. Take your seats. Alphabetical, as usual.” He suddenly laughed, making my innards drop out from within me. “Now, now, Azer, have you forgotten yourself? You take the second seat, not the third. Behind Adriana, like always.”

  The color had drained from Azer’s face, but he laughed hollowly along with the educator. “Like always,” he repeated. “How silly of me.”

  Whispers echoed across the classroom. “He really did it.” “Poor Ari.” “I’ve got to be more careful.”

  I looked around in alarm. Were they really so reckless as to speak aloud? Then I realized, gooseflesh forming on my arm, that none of their mouths were moving.

  I was hearing their thoughts. All of them.

  “Excellent,” the educator said from the pulpit. “Now, to begin. Before we turn to the Litany, I would like to ask the lot of you a question: what is disease?”

  The sound of shuffling as my peers glanced at one another was muffled by an indecipherable mishmash of disembodied voices in my mind. Finally, a girl near the back of the room hesitantly stood and inclined her head. “A disease is a disorder of the body, sir. One that causes the body to no longer function properly.”

  “Would you say that a disease could be something that causes the body to no longer correctly respond to the proper impulses of the br
ain?”

  “I suppose so, sir.”

  The educator smiled. “Very good. Have a seat, Uxia.” He flipped open his text.

  “The Litany of the Brothers, book one, chapter forty-three, line two hundred and eleven. ‘And so the Brothers created the world anew, one living body. Each member a part, each part bound together.’ We are all one, my students. But we must remember that a body can only live with a head. The head rules the body; the brain controls every aspect of its being. Without the brain, the heart cannot beat. Blood will not flow. Life cannot continue.”

  He spoke evenly, his smile never fading, as blithely as if he were discussing the pleasant warmth of a summer day. “The Brotherhood is the Head of the Great Body of Gale. The Watch are their Eyes. We cannot live without their guidance. Remember, any part of the body that does not respond correctly to the proper impulses of the brain can be said to be diseased. And diseases can be infectious. For the health and wellbeing of the body as a whole, diseases must be cured… or eradicated.”

  I stared resolutely at my knuckles, the taut skin white against the dark wood of my desk. I couldn’t bear to look at the educator, not when his thoughts were radiating such giddy delight at the grief of Ari’s friends and the terror of those who feared making his same mistakes. If I looked on his face now, I was sure I would do something I might not live to regret.

  There was a dry crackling as the educator began to turn the pages of the heavy tome on the podium before him. At last he spoke, his voice throaty and somber.

  “Now, let us begin our studies. Book three, chapter nine, line ninety-two: The Lamentation of the Shunned One. ‘What shall become of me, who opposed the Will of Destiny?’ the usurper cried.

  “And the storm whispered to him, ‘Alone, alone, ever alone. In misery ‘til the fierce winds of the tempest blow the ashes of your bones to the sky.’”

  ❦

  My head was pounding as I left the education center. The disjointed thought-voices of my peers had assaulted me all morning, and between my own fears and the grief over Ari, I felt like my brain was going to explode.

  I was so preoccupied, I didn’t notice him until it was too late.

  “Miranda,” said Ban, falling into step beside me as casually and naturally as an old friend. “I’m so glad I caught you. If you don’t mind, I need you to accompany me back to my domicile.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t, Ban,” I replied, hoping my voice did not betray my contempt—or worse, my fear. “My mother is expecting me.”

  “Indeed she is, but you will not find her at your home. She is at mine.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “Your home? But why?”

  “I will explain when we get there. The streets are not safe.”

  I was reluctant to follow him, but my eagerness to see my mother—and find out why she and my father had not returned last night—outweighed any doubts. I allowed him to lead me through the streets to the same small, gray building as before.

  But when I crossed the threshold into Ban’s house, my mother, of course, was nowhere to be seen.

  “Where is she?” I asked.

  Ban merely chuckled in reply. And then the electronic noise from before was back, but a thousand times louder. It was in me, around me, crushing me with its intensity. I could not even hear the sound of my own scream as I fell to my knees and blacked out.

  ❦

  All my life, I’d thought I could recognize a monster. They were the otherworldly creatures from the legends and the Litany, dragons and evil gods. Something Other.

  How foolish I’d been. If only I’d known, then, that the most deadly of monsters are the ones who can conceal themselves in plain sight. The ones who just look like ordinary people.

  My body felt heavy as I awakened, the way it had after taking the amber medicine. I tried to raise my hands to rub my throbbing temples, but I found I could not move them. My arms were strapped down to the table I now lay on.

  “I’m glad you’re awake, dear Miranda,” Ban said. I turned my head to look at him. He stood in front of the stone-topped counter, mixing some liquids in a glass cylinder. “I wished to speak to you before my brethren from the Watch arrive.”

  “Ban,” I murmured. My voice was thick from saliva pooled at the back of my throat. I swallowed with difficulty. “Where is my mother?”

  “Ah, not here, I’m afraid. You’ll have to forgive the deception. I believe that she was apprehended by the Watch yesterday, along with your father. They should be in the Citadel of the Brothers awaiting judgment by now. The Watch likely is on their way for you, as well, but I had some unfinished business that I wanted to tend to first.”

  I attempted to focus my eyes on him, but just keeping my lids up took effort. “What do you want from me? I never did anything to you. You promised to help me…”

  “Of course I did. After all, as your mother pointed out, I ‘owe’ your father.”

  “But why? How do you even know my father?”

  Ban snickered. “You haven’t noticed the family resemblance?”

  My foggy mind snapped to attention. “What are you talking about?”

  “Poor, sweet Miranda. Just a child, really. Too young to know the other side of Gale, the game all we grownups play.” He came over and stroked my forehead with mock affection, but his ragged nails scraped and scratched my skin.

  “I know it’s all a lie,” I spat. “I know about the revolution. And about the meige.”

  “Oh, excellent. That will save me quite a bit of time. Do you know, then, that your father was once the most powerful man in the land?” He nodded when I said nothing. “But what you might not be aware, little one, is that there was more to Prosper’s old life than just palatial finery and parlor tricks. The man called Spero has much hidden in his proverbial closet. For example, another family. One he abandoned.”

  The breath left me. “What?”

  “It’s true, little sister, it’s true. Prosper may have been a great meiga, but he was surpassed in his power by another. A woman named Cora. My mother.” Ban had still been stroking my forehead as he spoke, but now he grabbed a chunk of my short hair, yanking it so hard my scalp burned with pain. I yelped, but he did not relent. He leaned close, his breath hot and oppressive.

  “They called her a witch, you know. They put her to death for it. But her power was the same as Prosper’s. Why should one die while the other lived? Dear Uncle Nio believed he’d done his brother in, but I knew. I knew he had escaped. Zalo helped him.”

  “Zalo? My grandfather?”

  “The very same. He used to be a member of our father’s cabinet, in the olden days. He secreted Prosper away, helped him create a new life, a new identity. He even offered his own daughter as a bride. Such a generous soul.” His voice dripped sarcasm. “Prosper thought he could hide, but it was only a matter of time until I found him. It’s why I joined the Watch. I won’t rest, not until all the meige are dead. Just like my mother.”

  “I don’t understand,” I stammered. Ban had drifted back toward the counter and resumed stirring his concoction. I didn’t want a sample of whatever was in that cylinder. I had to keep him talking, try to preoccupy him until I could find a way to escape. “If both your parents were meige, shouldn’t you be one, too?”

  “I was inoculated. And unlike you, my inoculation took. It’s very fortunate, you know, that you happened to be a cripple, Miranda. If it weren’t for your fits, it might have been years before I finally found Prosper again.” He turned to me. “Although it’s too bad for you, really. If not for your affliction, I might never have known another meiga lived.”

  I started to protest, but he interrupted me. “There’s no point in denying it, little sister. My”—he smirked—“‘Watchman’s Helper’, if you will, has no effect on ordinary humans.” He pulled a small device from the breast of his tunic. With the press of a button, the electronic noise blipped in my ear once more. I flinched.

  “That sound operates on the sixth plane,” said Ban, “wh
ich only people like you can sense. That’s why I used this to test you. You twitch like a coello every time it goes off. No doubt about it. So I’m afraid there’s no other alternative for you, my dear. The meige must be purged.”

  I twisted my head left and right, trying to discern if there was anything in the room I could use to my advantage, but it was difficult to see anything, strapped down as I was. Frantic, I reached out with my mind in an attempt to probe Ban’s, searching for some sort of crack in his psyche. But I hit a blank wall.

  “That won’t work, Miranda,” he said, not even looking up. “I may not have the power, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to keep others out.”

  My blood ran cold as I belatedly realized that I hadn’t heard anything since I’d entered Ban’s house. It was the first respite I’d had all day. He was right; he could keep me out.

  I was trapped.

  He turned to me, a syringe in his hands. “Technically speaking, I’m supposed to turn violators of the edicts over to the Brothers for judgment. But in this case, I really think the honor should be mine.” His lips turned up pleasantly. “I’m sure Uncle Nio will understand.”

  He stepped toward me, his thumb on the syringe’s plunger.

  No.

  I screamed, and everything in me let loose.

  The energy erupting from my body was more intense than anything I’d felt before—stronger than the fits or even the visions. It was like all my energy, my whole will to live, exploded from me in a burst of power. Ban staggered backward as if flung by a giant. His body slammed into the counter, the glass vials and bottles shattering with the force of his impact.

  I looked down at my hands, free now from the leather straps that had been binding them. I didn’t know how I’d done this, but there was no time to contemplate it. Ban was unconscious and bleeding from a wound on his forehead, but I could see from the rise and fall of his chest that he was not dead. I needed to get away, quickly.

  I burst through the door, moving swiftly but calmly as I could manage down the street. As soon as I was free from Ban’s house, the sounds of others’ thoughts rushed back in, but they were more muted than before, and were quickly overridden by Ferda’s frantic, disembodied voice.