The Marked Girl

by Lindsey Klingele

  A part of Liv knew that Cedric was right, that she was in way over her head here. She doubted that the Knights would be able to track her down to this house after she and Cedric lost them in San Diego, but the wraths had been distressingly good at keeping up with Cedric and his group. A group that now included her.

  Still, the thought of getting away by herself for just two hours, to sit in the sunshine with Shannon, being normal for just a little bit . . . it was too tempting to pass up. Especially since it was starting to really sink in that her previously “normal” life was about to change, probably forever. After all, being a scroll made her a fugitive from the Knights. Could fugitives do senior year? Or go to college? Or make movies?

  The future she had so carefully planned and waited for was slipping away, and she wanted—needed—to see Shannon and hold on to what she could. But how could she explain that to Cedric?

  “I must agree with Cedric on this,” Kat said, though her face was still stormy, probably because she was thinking about the motel. “I am sorry, Liv, but you cannot think only about yourself right now. You are no longer just a girl. You are our only means to get back to Caelum.”

  “Right. Just some scroll. Some ticket home,” Liv shot back. She could feel the force of her argument against the two of them wavering as they stood side by side. They looked impressive, almost regal.

  And in the end, she knew they could keep her here in this room as long as they wanted. She might be a supernatural scroll thingy with one or two self-defense moves up her sleeve, but she still had all the muscle of a sixteen-year-old girl who’d taken her gym class pass/fail.

  She’d have to try another tactic.

  “I’ll help you get home, but I won’t be your prisoner,” Liv said. At the word prisoner, Cedric winced slightly. “All I want is to see my best friend in a safe, public place for a couple of hours. You can even come with me if you want. Then, if any wraths somehow manage to find us, I’ll have just as much protection there as I would here.” Liv met Cedric’s eyes as she continued. “Unless you don’t think you can take them.”

  Cedric’s jaw tightened. “That is not the problem. I can handle the wraths—”

  “Good. Then there should be no issue with us going.”

  “Cedric—” Kat turned to Cedric.

  But Liv spoke over Kat, looking directly into Cedric’s eyes. “You need me,” she said. “But I need this, Cedric. Please.”

  Cedric looked at her for a few moments more before he gave a slight nod. “Liv is right. We cannot cower in fear of them—the wraths or the Knights. We need to determine what Malquin is up to, but we need Liv’s cooperation as well if we want to get home.”

  Liv let out a long breath.

  “Well, isn’t this an interesting turn,” Merek said. He smirked as he looked between Kat and Cedric. “And do you agree with him now, Katerina? Haven’t you always said we should follow him in all things, because he is our leader?”

  Kat looked stretched tight, like a rubber band about to snap. She turned to Cedric. “You are sure about this?”

  A flicker of doubt rose up in Cedric’s face, and Liv felt guilty. She remembered him telling her how hard it was to be the leader. To have every decision fall to him.

  “I am,” Cedric said, then looked to Liv. “I will keep you in my sight at all times. And we will only be gone for a couple of hours?”

  “Yes,” Liv said as she exhaled sharply, afraid to say anything else that might work against her.

  “I guess it is all decided then,” Kat said, her voice brittle. “Though I am going with you should there be any trouble.”

  Merek swung his legs off the side of the armchair and onto the floor. He tilted his head up at Liv. “I think I will go as well.”

  Cedric narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

  “To see more of this world, mostly,” Merek responded with a lazy grin. “Now that I know we are close to going home, I find myself interested in exploring more of this place than its dungeons and dusty rooms. Besides, I prefer to be present should things come to fisticuffs between Kat and our suddenly interesting new friend here.”

  “Then you will be disappointed,” Kat said. Merek shrugged.

  “We should go soon,” Cedric said, raising his voice a little louder than necessary to cut through the tension.

  Liv explained they’d just have to make a quick stop at the Walgreens on the corner, where she’d withdraw more cash and buy some cheap disposable phones for everyone, just in case. As they started to get ready, Liv slipped out onto the front porch.

  She wanted to enjoy a little precious time alone in the sunshine, without feeling weighed down by the expectations of everyone in the house. Without feeling watched.

  She got about fifteen seconds.

  The front door of the house opened, and Liv heard someone walk out onto the porch. Without even turning around, she said, “Cedric, I’m okay—”

  “It’s not Cedric.”

  Liv turned to see Kat shut the front door and move toward her.

  “Oh. Hi.”

  Kat wore a faded T-shirt and jeans that were torn at the knee. She looked comfortable in them, and confident, though they must certainly have been different from her regular clothes of, what—armor? Tiaras? Liv couldn’t picture it. She suddenly wondered what type of girl Kat would be if she’d been born on Earth. If she wasn’t a medieval warrior princess. Would she have been stuck-up? Artsy? A cheerleader?

  Would they have been friends?

  Kat stopped next to Liv by the porch railing. She looked out over the street and the houses across the way. “I saw what you did in there. With Cedric.”

  “What?”

  “Stop,” Kat said, then turned to look at Liv. “Do not pretend. I have seen the way he looks at you. I know you have seen it, too.”

  Kat’s dark eyes bored into Liv’s, and Liv looked away. She could feel herself flushing.

  “I’m not sure . . . ,” she started. “I mean, I don’t think he and I . . . he talks about you. A lot.”

  Kat gave a small smile. “I am not jealous. Despite what Merek might believe.”

  Liv just nodded. “Okay.”

  “Whatever . . . flirtations Cedric has now, they do not matter. None of that matters.” Liv could hear the unspoken pronoun in Kat’s words. You don’t matter.

  “Cedric and I are going to be together. We have known it since we were children, and nothing can change that. It is what is best for Caelum, which means it is best for us.” Kat paused, then looked back toward the front window of the house. Nothing was visible through the window, but she and Liv both knew Cedric was in there.

  Kat turned back to Liv. “He will make a great leader someday. I know it. A king has to be able to make the hard decisions, to do what is right even if he does not want to. Cedric is capable of that, but here . . .”

  Kat gestured to the space around them, to the street, the houses. To the very air. “Here, it is harder for him. It is confusing.”

  Liv didn’t know what to say.

  “I know he cares for you,” Kat continued, “but you cannot use that to turn him away from his responsibility.”

  “I didn’t use anything,” Liv said, defensive. But she remembered the way Cedric’s eyes had softened when she pleaded, right before he gave in. “And I don’t plan on getting in the way of anyone’s responsibility.”

  “I am glad,” Kat said, her voice cool and even as her dark eyes stared down into Liv’s. “Because that is a good way for people to get hurt.” With that, Kat turned around and walked back into the house.

  And Liv suddenly knew what type of girl Kat would be if she had been born on Earth.

  One to watch out for.

  As soon as the Griffith Park Observatory came into view through Liv’s windshield, she felt immediately lighter. Cedric, Kat, and Merek had barely spoken as she made the long, winding drive up the steep hill overlooking the whole of Los Angeles, and by the time she reached the top and parked the car, they were all lookin
g around with wide eyes. The observatory stood directly in front of them, a massive half-globe structure filled with tourists and surrounded by hiking trails.

  They walked toward the railing on one side of the observatory and looked out, taking in the view of the hills, of the Hollywood sign, of the downtown skyscrapers off in the distance.

  “It’s like the view from the Westing Mountains in Caelum, only . . . more,” Merek said, eyes wide.

  “When have you ever climbed the Westing Mountains?” Cedric asked.

  Merek’s face transformed from awestruck into his trademark sneer. “You do not know everything about me.”

  Cedric shrugged and turned back to the view.

  “I’m a bit early to meet Shannon,” Liv said, then pointed to the top of the observatory. “Up there.”

  Cedric scanned the roof, putting his hand to his eyes to shield them from the bright sunlight as he did so. “I will keep my eyes on you from here.”

  Merek snorted. “I am sure you will.”

  Cedric opened his mouth to reply, then seemed to think better of it. He turned to Kat. “Come, let us check the perimeter.” He pointedly turned his back on Merek as he walked off with Kat.

  As soon as they were gone, Liv turned to Merek. “Why do you have to do that? Go and make everything all awkward?”

  Merek shrugged with one shoulder. “Everything is already awkward. I am merely giving it voice.”

  “No, it’s more than that. You always give Cedric such a hard time—”

  “Believe me,” Merek said, turning back to face the Hollywood sign. “In all of Cedric’s life, he has never known a hard time.”

  “That’s a bit unfair.”

  “Unfair? You have known him just a few days, and already you rush to his defense, though he does not need it. I have seen Cedric turn mathematics problems into gibberish and still earn top marks from his tutors. I have seen him cut into his dinner with a sword just to show off, and receive only applause as response. I have seen him flirt with every girl in Caelum while treating his own future bride like a hunting mate, and yet she stays by his side. No matter what he does, his future is assured. He will one day rule an entire kingdom, and all he had to do to earn it was be born. And you speak of fairness?”

  Liv quietly studied the darkened expression on Merek’s face. She remembered what Cedric had said about Merek a few days earlier, that he was a second son, and what that meant for his future.

  “You’re right,” she said. Merek turned to her, shocked. “It is unfair. I forget, sometimes, what a different world you guys came from. I mean, things aren’t all equality, sunshine, and rainbows here, but at least most people can make their own futures.”

  Merek shook his head. “How do you mean?”

  “Here, it’s not supposed to matter where a person comes from or who they are. They can be a leader anyway. Or a business tycoon or a YouTube star. Anything. Not that it’s always easy. I mean, less than ten percent of all film directors are women, but I fully intend to break through the system, and no one can stop me. Like Lara Croft, but without all the killing people . . .”

  Merek looked confused.

  “Sorry. Got a little rant-y there. But my point is that here, ideally, anyone can be anything. Especially in LA. That’s kind of why this city is awesome.”

  Merek didn’t respond with a snarky comeback. He looked out over the city, his expression thoughtful. “Anything . . . ?”

  “Anything. So long as you work at it. And aren’t such a dick all the time.”

  Merek either didn’t notice the insult or didn’t know what it meant. He continued to stare out over the Hollywood Hills, still lost in thought.

  Liv checked the time on her cell phone. “I gotta go meet Shannon . . .”

  Merek nodded, and Liv turned and walked toward the observatory. She passed the statue of James Dean’s head and the group of tourists who were posing around it. She made her way through families and amateur photographers, slipping inside and taking the elevator that led to the rooftop observation area.

  Although it was easily the coolest part of the whole building, the rooftop was often empty of visitors and tourists. Liv walked to the waist-high cement wall that lined the area and sat down before peering over. From up high, she could see Cedric and Kat rejoining Merek, tiny shapes in the parking lot.

  It was five minutes before she and Shannon were supposed to meet, so Liv expected her best friend to show up anytime within the next half hour. She was surprised to hear footsteps approaching from behind just a few minutes later.

  “The world must really be ending if you showed up on time—” Liv turned, her words cut short when she saw who was approaching.

  “Hello, Olivia.” Joe stopped a few feet away. He clasped his scuffed leather briefcase in front of him. His expression was so full of disappointment that Liv averted her eyes.

  “Shannon told you I’d be here?” she asked. “She set me up?”

  “Don’t blame her. She’s worried about you. Plus, I was pretty persuasive.”

  Joe took a seat on the half-wall next to Liv. She didn’t move over to make more room for him, and he perched there awkwardly.

  “There was once a time when I didn’t have to stoop to subterfuge to see you,” he said, and set his briefcase down on the roof. He opened it and pulled out a manila folder.

  “I have to show you something,” Joe continued, his voice somber. He flipped open the folder and put it on Liv’s lap. She assumed the folder would contain information on her next placement, but the second she looked down at it, her stomach dropped. Cedric’s face was staring back at her. The image of him was grainy, taken from a security camera that must have been outside the museum. He was facing off against a man in a torn T-shirt. Although his back was to the camera, Liv knew the man was actually a wrath. In the photo, Cedric was very clearly aiming his sword in the wrath’s direction. Liv flipped through the rest of the pictures quickly, and in one she saw herself in the corner of the frame. Her back was to the camera, her hair flying behind her. But it was definitely her.

  “They haven’t identified you yet,” Joe said, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “I hope it’s not a mistake that I haven’t turned you in—”

  “Joe, I can explain.”

  “Your little friend with the sword is wanted for assault and battery, and for connection to the assault of a police officer.”

  “That wasn’t him! It was the—”

  “The what?”

  Liv breathed in deep. How could she explain this in a way that wouldn’t cause Joe to label her as “potentially deranged” in her file?

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into?” Joe’s voice started to rise. But not in anger, Liv realized. In fear.

  “I know what it looks like, Joe, but you have to trust me. This boy—Cedric—he wasn’t the one who hurt that cop. . . .”

  Liv trailed off, and she looked away from Joe. He took the folder back and flipped to the last picture, a blown-up image of Cedric and his sword. Its hilt had markings carved onto it; they were visible, though grainy.

  “And where did he get this?”

  Liv tried to think up a quick answer, but Joe didn’t wait for her to respond. “Look at the markings on this sword. Do they look . . . familiar to you?”

  That was odd. Joe should have been asking why Liv was hanging around guys with swords, but instead he noticed the markings?

  Liv’s throat suddenly felt dry, and her mind was spinning. She knew that Joe had seen her tattoo before. He was the one who had taken her away from the Hannigans after they’d given it to her. In fact, he was the one who told her the tattoo had come from the Hannigans in the first place. And she’d always believed him. Why wouldn’t she? He was Joe, solid, reliable Joe . . .

  “There are things I have to tell you, Liv.” Joe set the file down and turned to face her. “Things I wanted to protect you from. But I think that maybe not telling you has put you in even greater danger.”

 
Joe’s voice grew fuzzy in Liv’s ears. “What are you saying?”

  Joe reached out and took one of her hands into his. He looked directly at her, with those same clear, comforting eyes that she had been able to count on for almost her entire life.

  “What are you saying, Joe?”

  “I’m saying that you’re special. You were born with a type of . . . ability. A strange and rare ability. But one that could attract dangerous people . . .”

  Joe’s eyes searched Liv’s face as she tried to process what he was saying. She yanked her hand from Joe’s and looked down over the edge of the wall, at the ground and the people milling below. She couldn’t focus on any one person . . . they all seemed to be spinning, going in and out of focus, as she stared. For just a moment it seemed as though the bottom of the world had just dropped out beneath her, and she was just seconds from tumbling down, down, down . . .

  “You know?” she managed to whisper, tearing her eyes away from the ground and back to Joe. “You know what I am? What the tattoo does? Everything?”

  “Liv . . .”

  “No.” She pushed herself backward from him. “I almost died last night. We went looking for information and some Knight tried to kill me, and all this time you knew everything?”

  Joe looked like he might be sick.

  “They found you? The Knights of Valere?” He ran his free hand through what was left of his hair. “Thank God you’re still alive.”

  “I wouldn’t have been in danger at all if I’d known. We would never have gone to the professor, never put ourselves in that position. Why didn’t you tell me? And how . . . how did you know?”

  “I only ever wanted to keep you safe,” Joe said, his whole body sagging like a puppet whose strings had been cut. “I promise, Liv.”

  “Don’t promise. Explain.”

  “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “Let’s start with the tattoo. Or the scroll, or whatever it is,” Liv said. “Did the Hannigans even have anything to do with it, or was that a lie?”

  Joe looked at the ground for just a moment. “They didn’t give it to you. It’s not really a tattoo at all. You were born with it, although it was probably faint and small enough to pass for an odd birthmark at first. That’s the way it works with all children of the scrolls. They’re born with the markings, but they don’t start to darken until the fifth or sixth year.”