All That Is Red

Home > Young Adult > All That Is Red > Page 10
All That Is Red Page 10

by Anna Caltabiano

I raced through the paths bending around each building with Nalin crutching after me. We ran to Gerrard’s rooms, but upon finding them empty, we resorted to asking random people on the path where he was. Most ignored us, but some were polite enough to say that they didn’t know. An old Trigon man pointed us toward the direction where he had last seen the general. We hoped he was still in the vicinity.

  “Maybe we should look for General Devonport or the boy instead?” Nalin suggested.

  “No, Gerrard will know how to best handle this.” I was sure of it.

  As we turned the bend in the path, we found the man we needed. Gerrard stood in the shade of a building with a person’s neck in his grasp. He was holding someone against the wall, murmuring intimidating words to their ears.

  “It’s her,” an astonished Nalin whispered by my side.

  In the dim shadows, I could barely make out the facial features of the girl I bumped into earlier today. Her face was marred by a distasteful glare directed entirely at the general. It was a cold look, but Gerrard seemed unaffected by it.

  “Lynette,” Gerrard growled, shaking her pretty little neck in his hand. “This is your last chance to tell me where the papers are. I know you have them.” I saw his grip tighten.

  “Never,” she choked out, gagging on the bit of air she managed to obtain. Gerrard’s grip tightened further and I saw his knuckles turn pale as Lynette’s face blanched.

  “I have a feeling I know where they are,” I said, stepping out from the other side of the building. Lynette’s face turned even paler, though I wouldn’t have thought it possible at that point. I brought my face close to hers. “Do you remember me?”

  I took the liberty of slipping off her sweater, revealing a ragged Red shirt underneath it. The cardigan didn’t seem like anything special. It had a row of Red buttons, some missing, some broken, that trailed down like small beads rolling off a tabletop, but that wasn’t what first caught my eye. I had thought it quite odd when I saw her wearing the sweater this morning with the weather being as temperate as it was. I searched the cardigan, until my fingers caused the crinkling of paper. I reached into a sewn-on pocket on the inside back of the sweater and, as I suspected, the papers were there.

  Gerrard’s grip on her neck slackened and he pushed her away from the wall. “If you know what’s good for you, scram.”

  “You’re just going to let her go?” Nalin asked, voicing exactly what was on my mind.

  “She doesn’t have the papers. Without them, she’s useless, both to us and the White.”

  “You mean they’ll ... they’ll kill her?” Nalin asked.

  “Precisely,” Gerrard said in a cool, reserved manner that I thought was very much unlike him. “Think of it as them taking out the trash for us. That way we don’t have to.”

  I had never seen him speak like this, but then again, I had never seen him almost strangle a spy either. It was a different man in front of me and, although I knew it was necessary in these times, I didn’t like this side of him.

  “We should go to my rooms,” Gerrard said, as he looked around.

  People were congregated around us gawking. I knew they hadn’t seen anything since they came well after Lynette had disappeared. However, having an audience made us all feel uneasy.

  Trying to act relatively normal, we walked to the general’s chambers. Out of breath, but still filled with adrenalin, Nalin and Gerrard both puffed. Knowing I was supposed to feel something, anything, confused maybe, but not feeling anything at all, I felt out of place.

  We reached the general’s rooms and closed the door behind us. Locking the world away on the other side, it was a safe haven for us.

  “You have the papers?” the general asked.

  I confirmed the fact to their relieved sighs and laid them out on his desk.

  There were at least twenty pages in all. Maps, drawings, notes; there was page after page of information on our cause. One page caught my eye. It was an unmistakable drawing of my room. The window, the desk, and the bed were in their right places. Even the quilt covering the bed had the correct patterns on it and there, beneath the quilt, I saw something that resembled a head. It was mine.

  “Some of these are copies of my maps,” Nalin said, picking a few sheets out of the pile.

  “Then we know they’re not safe,” Gerrard said. “We can move you to one of my rooms where you can stay under the security of my guards.”

  “That would be helpful,” Nalin said. “I just ... I didn’t know that they were spying on me, too.” I knew he must have been shocked that the White had sent out a spy to keep tabs on him as well.

  “That’s why it’s called spying, Nalin.” the general replied gruffly. “Everyone is spied on and no one’s life is private anymore.”

  “We have to tell the commander,” Gerrard said. I knew all of us thought of the deceased commander when he said that. But we had to remember that the commander was really only a title, a position to fill, and though I filled it now, to everyone else the boy was their commander.

  “We have to tell the commander,” Gerrard said. I knew all of us thought of the deceased commander when he said that. But we had to remember that the commander was really only a title, a position to fill, and though I filled it now, to everyone else the boy was their commander.

  Gerrard sent one of his assistants out to get the boy. While waiting, he led us to a room deeper in his quarters. The furnishings of the room, a bed and a bedside table, were sparse, but they were made up for by the rich wallpaper and carpet that seemed to envelope us all within itself.

  The walls were decorated with none other than light. It was a painting, but the light seemed real. It glowed and danced in front of our eyes. At the same time, the light was both all colors and none. It undulated, hugging in shadows. The light sprawled out and touched all corners of the room. There was nowhere it couldn’t go.

  “The walls are breathtaking,” Nalin said and, truly, they were.

  “They should be,” Gerrard said with his familiar laugh. It lit his face up and he seemed more like the man I used to know. “I paid your grandfather a pretty penny to get him to paint them.”

  “My grandfather?” Nalin asked, as his hand reached out to touch the light.

  We heard a sudden noise coming from the other room and everyone stood rigid. Gerrard cautiously opened the door, but relaxed upon seeing who it was. The boy strolled in and joined us.

  “What’s going on?” he asked. “Is everything all right? Is anyone hurt?” He sounded alarmed.

  Gerrard reassured him that no one was hurt and everything, for the time being, was fine. “We found these,” Gerrard said, tossing him a few of the papers.

  “I don’t understand the meaning of this,” the boy said. “What are these?”

  “They’re maps and notes,” Nalin told him.

  “I can see that,” he replied a little testily. “But where did they come from? Are they yours?”

  “A few of them are,” Nalin responded honestly. “But they’re copies.”

  “Copies? I specifically asked you not to make copies,” the boy said. “If they got into the wrong hands ...”

  Nalin cut him off. “I didn’t make those copies.”

  “Then who did?” the boy demanded. “And what do you two have to do with this?” he asked Gerrard and me.

  “Lynette did,” Nalin said.

  “Lynette? What did she want with the copies?” The boy was still not putting two and two together.

  “She wanted to give them to the White,” Gerrard interrupted his confusion. “She was a spy.”

  “A spy? Lynette?” The new commander sunk down onto the bed looking more like a boy than the leader of a rebellion. “I almost entrusted the cause’s representation to a spy.” he mumbled, cradling his head in his hands. To the general, he simply asked, “Did you take care of her?”

  All of us in the room knew what he meant, but none of us, including the boy and Gerrard, could voice it aloud.

  “Ye
s.”

  “This goes to confirm all the more that we need a confrontation with the White,” the boy said looking at me.

  “A confrontation?” Nalin asked. We had forgotten that he was the only one here who didn’t know of the boy’s plans.

  “A face to face talk with the White,” the boy explained.

  “I’m ... I’m not sure that’s a good idea ...” Nalin started.

  “Save your breath,” the boy said. “I’m sure I’ve heard your argument before, but we have to do whatever we can to prevent a war.”

  “Even if doing so is against the people’s wishes?” Nalin asked. It wasn’t his place to ask, but as the boy remained silent, he seemed to have hit at something.

  When the boy eventually spoke, his answer was against what Nalin had hoped. “Yes.”

  “And you’re fine with this?” Nalin turned to me.

  “I trust the boy,” I said, making it clear I backed him up. “Though I am the leader of the cause, the boy is the face of it. We need unity in our midst.”

  The silence was deafening in the room. After I had spoken the final words, no one had dared appose me.

  “Speaking of the confrontation,” Gerrard said in an attempt to ease the mood around us. “I’ve drafted the letter.” He walked across to his desk to get a piece of Red paper and promptly handed it to the boy.

  All eyes were on him, as he attentively read over the letter. He looked to me for permission and upon receiving it, he gave the letter back to Gerrard. “Send it immediately,” he stated.

  Gerrard handed the letter over to his messenger with the same instructions. The messenger left at once, the entire weight of the cause resting directly on him.

  CHAPTER 11

  Exactly a week to the day later, we received word from the White. It came on White stationary and looked like something truly befitting The Pure One. The boy read it with a grim face, but overall, he seemed pleased with its contents.

  “We’ve set the date,” he told me.

  “And the location?” I asked.

  “And the location,” he confirmed with a smile.

  “Have you picked the two envoys to represent the cause?”

  “Yes, I have,” the boy said. “Alaric and Odessa. I think they’ll represent our interests well.”

  I was tempted to mention the last time he had said something of that sort, but I willed my tongue to be silent. Instead, I tactfully replied, “I’m sure they will.” In reality, I was worried for the whole convention, but I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind. I trusted the boy with everything important to me, including the cause. If he thought this was the right thing to do, it surely must be.

  “I’ll send them tomorrow,” he continued. “As you know, it’s a few days walk to the meeting place between our two lands.”

  “Yes, and now we must attend to something else.” I had decided to push the issue.

  “To what?” he asked.

  “To announcing your succession to the post of commander,” I said. “We’ve done away with the spies and now the people have to know they have a government to rely upon.”

  “Yes,” he said simply.

  I had been prepared to argue my point, so this easy victory came as a surprise. “Then you’ll do it?”

  “As soon as I can.” His voice was dismissive and wordlessly cued me to leave, but I refused to listen or respond to it.

  “Tomorrow?” I pressed.

  “I said, as soon as I can.” His tone was quick to light on anger and I sensed something behind it. It was something he tried to hide, yet in doing so, he made it very apparent.

  “What are you afraid of?” I asked the boy.

  “Afraid of? Nothing?”

  “You’re scared of something. That’s why you keep delaying it.”

  I watched his face for a sign that I had hit the right mark. The boy struggled in keeping his countenance smooth and unwavering, but I saw through it.

  “What are you afraid of?” I repeated again gently. “Are you afraid that they somehow won’t accept you?”

  “Yes.” His utterance was soft and cloaked in his breath, yet it was a definite answer. “Yes.”

  “You’re one of them. You’re accepted by them. You’ve helped through all the recent happenings. You were there bathing the injured’s wounds alongside their mothers, wives, and children. You’re a part of them, something I can never be.”

  “How can I help when I don’t even know who I am?” His voice was strained, as he strived to formulate his thoughts into words. “They don’t know me ... I don’t even know me.” His throat closed, trapping his thoughts. “Who am I?”

  “To them, you’re a friend, a brother, a son, and a father. You’re a helper, someone who does good and who is good. And soon, you’ll be a leader. Isn’t that enough?”

  My words were pained. What the boy really wanted was an identity, a name he could call himself. But I couldn’t give him that. No one could. He had to find it himself. Nonetheless, he had something close to what he wanted. He had what he was to other people; relationships and roles that defined him. That wasn’t the same as a name, but it was something.

  There’s no substitute for emotions. Emotions make us people. Without them, we’re just shells of what used to be. The unfeelings aren’t people, but they once were.

  “Thank you,” he said faintly.

  I couldn’t tell if it was a tactful dismissal or sincere gratitude. Either way, I left and went to seek solace with Gerrard, who, by now, I thought of as a friend. When I couldn’t say something to the boy, I sought a listening ear from him.

  “Do you think I did the right thing?” I asked Gerrard, after relaying what had just occurred.

  “Personally, yes. I think you did do the right thing. You might have given him the final push he needed to take action. But the real judge is time. Only time can tell.”

  I knew he was right, but I still wondered if my words were too sharp. Was I too severe? Now I could only wait to find out and I truly hoped my words had moved something inside the boy to take some action. At this point, that was what the cause needed. Action, any action. If we sat on our hands any longer, I believed we would surely self-destruct.

  Gerrard poured a Red liquid into two glasses and handed one to me. I remembered the drink from when the old commander was still alive and I took a long slow gulp of it. It had the same taste, bittersweet, one could call it.

  “There were more fights today,” Gerrard said.

  “Between who?”

  “Groups of Trigons and humans.”

  The fights were getting increasingly worse. They had started as only words thrown back and forth between the Trigons and humans, but that had evolved into action. Now there were full-blown fights.

  “Did anyone get hurt?” I asked.

  “Members of both sides, but luckily Devonport was there to prevent further damage,” he said.

  Though I didn’t wish for war, sometimes I found myself thinking that a common enemy would have the potential to unite the Red cause. The animosity between humans and Trigons had gone on for as long as anyone could remember. They had been forced to band together to hold against the White, but now with that threat further away from us, we were crumbling and everyone could sense it.

  The general and I talked into the night and through the early morning. It was preferable to worrying by myself in my room and I sensed that Gerrard also had his own concerns to unload.

  I awoke to the sound of cheering drifting in from the nearby window. I realized that Gerrard and I had both fallen asleep at the table and my mouth tasted of memories that had emerged with the Red drink we had last night.

  When I walked to the window, I was greeted with a welcome sight. It looked like every single member of the cause was gathered around the boy. He was filling the silence with his words, which were being received by the people with great optimism. They cheered at every other word he said and seemed so devoted.

  There was one person whose grin was
more radiant than the boy’s or anyone else’s and seeing it there surprised me. It was Devonport standing in the very front near the boy. She seemed to hang on every word the boy said.

  “He did it, didn’t he?” It was Gerrard who was now up and peering over my shoulder at the window. “He won the people over and he has earned the respect of Devonport.”

  “It’s high time he has.”

  CHAPTER 12

  There was a knock at the door and I nodded toward Elspheth to open it.

  Elspheth was here under the boy’s command. He had insisted that I needed someone to help me with my daily tasks, however mundane they might be. I had allowed this on the condition that I did not have to change rooms. I had become attached to my room, and by now, I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving it for another.

  “Lilith is here to see you,” Elspheth announced stiffly. She swiftly sat down in an extra chair by the door, all the while keeping an eye on Lilith. She was the only one I knew who didn’t fall immediately under Lilith’s spell upon meeting her. Rather, she looked quite wary of her.

  “Lilith!” I opened my arms, as she flew into them. I tried to look as happy and as excited as she appeared, but in the back of my mind, I wondered if she saw the real me.

  “I came to visit you!”

  “I hope she isn’t too much trouble,” a voice called and then Aurelee’s head peeked in from the door. “She said that she just had to see you. She wanted to spend the day with you.”

  “She’s no trouble at all,” I replied. “In fact, I was starting to miss her. I can look after her today and walk her over after dinner if you’d like.”

  “That would be wonderful,” she said.

  “Bye, Grandmama!” Lilith waved. Turning to me she asked, “Where’s the boy?”

  “He’s probably in his own room. Do you want to visit him?”

  She nodded.

  I looked at Elspheth. “I’m not sure when we’ll be back. If anyone asks, we’ll be at the commander’s quarters.” I was careful not to call him the boy when speaking to Elspheth, due to her stubbornly correcting me every time.

  “He’s our leader now,” she would say. “Even you must be respectful.” If only she knew what really was occurring.

 

‹ Prev