by Scott Hale
“Yes. Alexander Blodworth smuggled her out of Ghostgrave after the rest of her family had been murdered. We’ve kept her here, out of sight and out of the loop, because having her was a liability. Geharra had always been our rival, but it is clear to us now that Eldrus is our true enemy. If we are to learn anything about our enemy, it would be from someone who lived amongst them.
“She is a gifted botanist, but she has other gifts as well. I believe she may be a spellweaver of some sort. I want you to befriend her, get to know her, and if you can, convert her. Find out how and why she’s been talking to Isla Taggart, and if others know about her.”
“People will find out if I start seeing her,” the Holy Child said.
“We’ll create the necessary story.” Justine paused and studied him. “I know you’re thinking I should just do it myself, right?”
He nodded.
“People don’t trust me the way that they trust you. They call me the Hydra, because they think that I am two-faced and have my hands in everything. No, it has to be you. If you can do this, then you can do anything. The Anointed One will claim he is the true Holy Child. We have to show the people he is nothing more than a fake. Our god is the true god, but that won’t matter if we’ve lost the faith of the flock.”
The Holy Child closed his eyes. He had been looking forward to supper as a means to clear his mind. And in a way, somehow, it had. He felt trusted, more informed. He didn’t grasp the exact implications of working more closely with Justine, but now, for the first time in a very long time, he actually felt important again. Sure, he knew he was important—he was the speaker of god—but even that had become routine. The same thing, day in and day out. Now, he could make a difference. He wouldn’t be waiting for orders but giving them.
“There’s one more thing,” Justine said, a wave of smoke from the incense washing over her. “I heard you had an incident in the chapel today with Grant. He mentioned nightmares and a cult.”
“I don’t know what that was about.” The Holy Child responded so quickly, so thoughtlessly, that even he believed the lie he told. And it seemed Justine did, too.
She nodded and stood up from the table. “Get some rest. You’ve had a long day. Tomorrow will be very different. Think about what I’ve said, and tell me your decision when you’re ready.” She went over to him and kissed his forehead gently. “You and I will make the world a better place. The way god has always wanted it to be. Never forget how fortunate we are to have you. Goodnight, Felix.”
CHAPTER III
When Felix woke the following morning, he had already missed prayer, announcements, and breakfast. If he’d had a nightmare last night, well, he’d missed that, too. Fully rested, but in an absolute panic, he crawled out of bed and started dressing himself.
Why didn’t anyone wake me up? His arms and legs were still asleep. They fought him every chance they could to stop him from getting ready. Not good, not good. People are going to freak out. Finally slipping into his sacred garments, he went at the speed of a sloth to the mirror and gave himself the once-over. Justine did this, he thought, spitting in his palm to flatten the explosion of hair on the top of his head. She really is testing me.
Without knocking, Avery and Mackenzie entered his room and shut the door behind them.
“What’s going on?” he asked, a fresh glob of saliva sitting in his hand.
Mackenzie shook her head in amusement. “All the spit in the world won’t be enough to tame that travesty of a hair-do.” She went to him, took his hand, and wiped it on her armor. “You look like you slept well.”
“Too well,” Felix said. “Why didn’t anyone wake me?”
Avery went to one knee, his armor rustling as he rummaged about on the ground. He stood up, brush in hand, and said, “Mother Abbess Justine ordered us to let you get some rest.”
“Why?” He tilted his head downward. Mackenzie grabbed the brush and went to work on him.
“Because you’ll be too busy talking to god today,” Avery said.
“I will?” He hissed. “Ouch, Mackenzie!” If she brushed him any harder, he’d have a concussion.
She stopped, said, “Don’t be a baby,” and tossed the brush onto his bed. She slipped her hand into a pocket and took out a thin, white key.
“What’s that?”
Mackenzie pressed the key into his hand and closed his fingers around it. Taking him by the shoulders, she turned him to the door and said, “Everyone’s still eating. Go do what you do best.”
Felix raised an eyebrow at Avery.
The guard raised his even higher. “I heard there’s a room in the unfinished part of the cloister. Behind a steel door. Seems as good a place as any to listen to god.”
Felix ran his finger along the teeth of the key. “I’ve always wondered what was behind there.”
“Be back here fifteen minutes before afternoon guidance,” Mackenzie said. She and Avery started out of the room. “Or we’ll send the Night Terror in to—”
Before Avery could finish his sentence, Felix grabbed his journal, pen, and keyring and bolted out of the room.
He hurried to the hiding place and slipped inside. His disguise was there where he left it, but he didn’t need it. Justine had told him Audra would trust him because of who he was. If he went to her as someone else, she’d never open up to him.
I can’t believe she’s letting me do this on my own, he thought, backing out of the hiding place and down into the abandoned closet at its end. Can’t be that dangerous. She wants to keep me around. She wouldn’t take that big a risk. He unlocked the door and, crouching low, entered the unfinished part of the cloister.
Felix jumped as the wind howled through the boards at the passage’s beginning. He could hear it rattling the pathetic barricade, like the undead returning home. As he turned to lock the closet behind him, he noticed wet patches like footprints along the semi-tiled ground. They started at the front of the passage and went past the closet, father back into this forgotten place.
But where the footprints led to, Felix couldn’t be sure. By the time he reached the first junction, he was too far from the front to see anything. He had to go left, that’s where the steel door was, but what if whoever had come through here went left, too? Suddenly, the cold and muted darkness that surrounded him didn’t feel empty like it should have. Standing there, teeth chattering, he swore he could see something in that frigid black, something darker than the dark it hid in. It was large, jagged, with a point like a beak jutting from the top of it.
“It’s just my imagination,” he said aloud. His voice echoed down the left passage. “It’s just my imagination.”
And maybe it had been, because after he said this again, the figure vanished.
Felix puffed out his chest, said a prayer to god, and plunged into the darkness. He started at a snail’s pace. When the wind rose to a wail, he booked it down the passage, stubbing his toes and nicking his legs on the rubble in the way.
When he came here before, he’d had a candle, so he knew that if he ran his fingers along the wall, they should catch on three doors—wood, rock, and glass—before they hit the steel door. And one after the other, they came, until his nails ground to a halt on the thick, heavy door he often daydreamed of.
Quickly, he took out the key. After a good ten seconds of struggle, he unlocked the door. Something buzzed inside the metal. A pinching shock ran up his arm. He quickly let go of the key. But the key didn’t need him. Slowly, it continued to turn on its own, until after two thuds and a click, the key stopped and the door popped open.
Felix, cringing, reached for the key and tore it out before it shocked him again. As he pulled the door back, a sliver of dirty, white light flickered on behind it. He let go of the door and crept through the crack. On the other side, a single fluorescent bulb sat fixed to the ceiling, blinking out a spastic distress signal.
“What is this?”
In awe, Felix closed the door behind him. Before he had the chance, it lock
ed itself. But he didn’t care, because here he was, in one of the most rundown parts of Pyra, and there was electricity coursing through it. He’d challenged Justine and his teachers every chance he could about the Old World technologies, and every time, they swore they were an impossibility.
He squinted, the harsh light starting to agitate his eyes. “I knew it.”
Felix continued forward, to a second, circular, metal door at the end of this small passage. It was locked, so he took out the white key again and changed that. The door shook and opened inward. Light poured out from behind it, like water breaching a dam. With it came a gust of warm air, moist and earthy. Covering his face, he crossed the threshold and pushed the circular door shut.
Felix rubbed his eyes until they were right again. Then, blinking hard, shouted, “Holy crap!”
Statues, tens of them, covered almost completely in long, waxen sheets stood before him. They were tall, double his height, with humpbacks and star-shaped heads. Their feet were exposed—the statues looked to be made out of marble—but when he went to pull the sheets up, he found he couldn’t. They were stuck to the statues, as though a part of them. What were they doing down here? Was there something wrong with them? Felix’s imagination began to run wild, which meant it was time to move on.
But after he cleared the statues, he found there wasn’t much further to go, because past them, there was only a small greenhouse. Most of the glass was covered in flowers and vines. As Felix drew nearer, he saw through the openings a woman inside. She was sitting on a bed in a dirty slip, her back to him, facing the wall of the hollow this place had been built against. And, though he couldn’t hear her, he could tell by the way she moved her hands that she was talking to someone.
Felix bent down and laid his journal on the ground. Should I play stupid? He heard rocks crumbling behind him. He spun around, faced the hallway where the statues stood. There was no one there, but a few of the sheets that covered the statues were swaying slightly, as if someone had walked by.
Or should I pretend to be her friend? He turned back, towards the greenhouse, and froze. The woman was gone.
“What do you want?” the woman called out.
It was Audra, Felix was sure of it. She sounded the same as she had in Isla Taggart’s room. Not responding, he went to the front of the greenhouse, where an ugly jail cell gate acted as a door. It had no keyhole, no way to unlock or open it. The frame of the door was fused to glass surrounding it with nether oil, which meant nothing short of another Trauma would be able to knock it down.
“What are you doing here?”
Felix looked through the bars of the gate, into the greenhouse. Eggs of light hung down from the ceiling; from front to back, they covered the plants growing there in artificial light. In random places, sprinklers would sputter to life and spray the greenery they cowered behind. At the farthest end of the greenhouse, there was a long work bench covered in pots, bags, potions, and tools.
If someone told him all the plants of the world were growing here, he’d probably believe them. Felix didn’t know much about that kind of thing, but some of the flowers were colors he hadn’t even seen before. And there was a small stalk at the back, red markings like teeth running up it, that, when he looked at it, made his veins bulge.
Audra stepped out of the overgrowth running along the side of the greenhouse. “Holy Child or not, you shouldn’t be here.”
Audra of Eldrus. Here she was, not just as a name in a conversation or a shadow on the wall. And she wasn’t what he expected at all. Her hair was long, but greasy, thick with knots that would have to be cut out. She was gaunt, her legs and armpits unshaven. Dry skin fell from her lips as she chewed on them. Her nails had so much dirt under them, they probably had a garden of their own. Felix remembered Justine had said she’d been here since the royal family of Eldrus had been murdered, but why were they treating her like a prisoner?
“Did you come to stare?” He could see through her slip, but he knew he wasn’t supposed to, so he kept looking at her feet, instead. “Did they decide to turn me into a zoo attraction?”
“Isla…” Felix had said something just to say something, but when he said that, he noticed Audra’s eyes widen. “Isla Taggart told me about you.”
“How did you get in here?”
Felix took out his keyring.
“Let me out.”
“I don’t know how.” He heard more rocks crumbling back the way he’d come. He looked at the statues. Again, some of the cloth that covered them was moving.
“You’re lying to me,” Audra said. She padded across the greenhouse, her feet making sucking sounds in the soil.
“You met with Isla Taggart yesterday morning in her bedroom.”
Audra stopped and shot him a nasty look.
“You asked her to help. She wanted to wait until the right moment.” Felix took a deep breath. He had to be careful. “She said you weren’t happy.”
“So she went and told the Holy Child of Penance?” Audra laughed. Her bones pressed against her thin skin as she did so. “I’m not stupid. The Hydra sent you.”
Don’t call her that, Felix thought. He grimaced.
She started to pace. “What do you want?”
Audra had been down here a long time, and short of death, there wasn’t much worse that could happen to her. She would pretend not to trust him, he realized, but she would try to, every chance she could get. He knew what that was like. It was the only way he could get through those days in the South with Samuel Turov.
She growled, “Don’t stare at me.”
Felix’s eyes went to his journal on the ground. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Do you know how to get me out of here?” She sat down on her bed. It sagged with her weight.
“I don’t see a way to unlock the door.”
“You can’t.” She threw up her arms. “I’ve had a long time to search this place. I can’t find the way out. The glass isn’t glass. I don’t know what it is, but I can’t break it.” She bared her knuckles, which were scabby and uneven. “I tried. A lot. But they come in here sometimes, to fix this Old World stuff or to leave food or supplies.”
Felix’s eyes found hers again. “How do they get in?”
Audra shrugged. “They fill the greenhouse up with gas. I don’t wake up for a long time until after they leave.”
“I’m sorry you’re here,” Felix admitted. He wanted to cry, he felt so bad for her. She didn’t deserve this. No one did. God wouldn’t want this.
Audra grunted. She picked her nose and ate what came out of it. “The Hydra would know how to get me out.”
“The… I got this key from Mother Abbess Justine’s room. There might be something… or I could talk to her for you.”
Audra scoffed. “After what your city is saying that my brother did? I don’t think so.”
“Did Isla tell you?”
“No, my real friends did.” She looked at the wall behind the glass beside her bed.
“Who?”
“She didn’t send you.” Audra stood up and walked over to the cell gate. “She wouldn’t forget that detail.”
“Shadows,” Felix blurted out. He remembered how she seemed to come out of Isla’s shadow.
Audra furrowed her brows. “Alexander Blodworth told me about the Worms of the Earth.”
Felix’s voice broke as he asked, “The what?”
“Ask the Hydra,” she said with a smile.
“Like the Red Worm?” Felix was starting to sound like the child he was. He straightened up and took a step back, trying not to look at Audra’s chest.
She grabbed the bars of the gate. “The Hydra knows more than she lets on. Did she tell you why she let Exemplar Samuel Turov kidnap you and take you into Night Terror country?”
“What?” Felix’s manliness deflated. “What are you…? She wouldn’t.”
“I could kill you where you stand,” Audra said. “She probably knows that. But she let you come and see me, anywa
ys.”
“She didn’t send me…”
“You’re a pawn. She moves you to her advantage.” Audra let go of the bars and started to walk away. “Even if you wanted to help me, you couldn’t. You’d turn against me. I know enough about your ‘Holy Child’ kind. I don’t blame you, but I don’t need you.” She disappeared back into the overgrowth and said, “Hear anything from god lately? I prayed a lot that first year. Guess god can’t hear me all the way down here.”
Felix had lost her, but he had to leave anyway, because it was almost time for afternoon guidance. After Audra, all he wanted to do was sit down with Justine and ask her questions. He knew the woman was probably lying, but what were these Worms of the Earth? And why did she say Samuel Turov had taken him on purpose? And Audra could have killed him if she wanted to? He doubted that, but if there was a chance, why did Justine even take the risk?
At nightfall, Felix made his way to Mother Abbess Justine’s quarters, only to find she was gone. Her personal guards told him she had been called away on important business. She would dine with him tomorrow.
“Are you sure?” he asked, sulking. “I need to talk to her.”
“I’m sorry, your holiness,” one of the guards said. “She thought you would appreciate the time to yourself, to reflect on god’s word.
God’s word? He almost laughed. God hasn’t told me anything.
“Dinner was delivered to your room, your holiness,” the other guard added. As though he were speaking to a lost dog, he said, “Mother Abbess Justine is not here.”
Felix returned to his quarters and stayed there the rest of the night. He ate half his dinner and gave the rest to Avery and Mackenzie, who finished it off before he could hand them the silverware. Not wanting to think any more about Audra or what she had said, because he knew his mind would make those things worse than they probably were, he drank a bit of Respite and went to sleep.
After a month of nightmares, he wasn’t surprised to have another. But this time, he wasn’t in the gray place, or with the Night Terror who saved him. This time, he was in the South, back in the house Samuel Turov had kept him in. The old man was in his underwear. He had a switch in his hand.
