by Pam Brondos
She was looking around for any option that would get her to the ground in one piece when the sound of low voices and snorting horses traveled across the open meadow. Three riders had appeared from a cluster of trees directly across from her. Their thick blue coats fell to their stirrups, and white circles were emblazoned on their coat sleeves. She squinted to get a better look. They all had pointed beards like Andris. She pressed her back against the trunk of the tree and listened to their voices. Estos had a reason he wanted this paper hidden, and the riders didn’t look particularly friendly. The bark scratched the back of her neck as she tucked herself tightly into the branches.
“Huya,” a rider urged his horse into the meadow. It swung its head and stomped at the ground.
“Yah!” one rider yelled, digging his heels into his horse. The horse twisted to the side, nearly unsaddling the rider. The horses high-stepped in nervous circles. After two more attempts to press the horses forward, the riders retreated into the forest.
Nat sprang from the branch and landed in a heap beyond the saplings. The ground, soft with decaying aspen leaves, buffered her fall. She tested out her legs and ankles. Besides another long scrape on her arm, everything felt okay. She scooped her cloak off the meadow floor and ran for the tree line.
Her heart pounded like she was running a race. She glanced behind her. Gnarled trees lined the edge of the forest. She jumped onto the forest path. Branches laden with triangular-shaped leaves raked her cloak. Her foot caught on a root, sending her sprawling onto the forest floor. Dirt and soggy leaves clung to her throbbing hand. She pushed herself up and jogged a few steps before running hard into the woods.
Her breath was coming in ragged gasps when she reached the red boulder. In the distance, the tops of two trees swayed back and forth, but the trees around her were still. When she looked at the distant trees again, a blue object flew from the top of one of the trees to another. Growing larger, the blurry shape transformed into a lean figure. Adrenaline surged through her body, and she sprinted to the rocky cliff. Where was the entrance? Her mind remembered every step of the path, but she couldn’t remember where the entrance was. A strange light shone from between a crack in the cliff. Jagged rocks scraped her arms, but she plunged toward the light. An opaque rock pulsated in front of her. The surface gave under her fingers. She flung her body at the rock and tumbled onto the floor of the tunnel. A strange glass ball floated above her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Nat stumbled behind the glass ball and out of the tunnel.
Oberfisk greeted her with a giant smile. “I knew you could do it!” He clapped her on the shoulder, sending her flailing into the room.
“Oberfisk, be careful. Bring her here.” Ethet motioned to a low bench along the wall. She and Annin rolled up Nat’s sleeves, inspecting every inch of skin. Annin examined her swollen hand carefully.
“Annin,” Nat whispered, her voice urgent.
“What?” she asked as she turned Nat’s hand over.
“Am I dreaming? Because all of this is too real, but it was totally surreal back there.”
Annin stopped and looked up at her. Nat trembled as their eyes met. A look of sympathy briefly flashed across Annin’s face but disappeared as quickly as it came.
“You’re not dreaming, Nat. And you’re not crazy, at least not yet. Welcome to the family, Sister.” A silver arch appeared above Annin’s eye patch as she gave Nat a little smile. Nat slumped against the wall and looked around at the people in the room.
“Porc tree, nothing else other than a few scrapes,” Ethet announced. Everyone in the room except Nat let out a breath.
“What do you mean ‘nothing else’?” Nat pulled her hand back.
“No other wounds is what she means.” Annin stood swiftly. She accepted a small bowl from Ethet, which she thrust at Nat. “Here, rub this on your hand. It will help with the swelling.”
Nat took the bowl, then watched Annin move around the sterile room. She darted from place to place like a hummingbird, standing still only long enough to put something away before she moved again.
“You delivered the message without any problems, then?” Barba hovered at Nat’s side, her red hair frizzier than usual.
Nat regarded her for a moment. Barba had lied. Estos had lied. Who were these people? She began rubbing the salve onto the tender skin. The instant the salve touched her hand, the pain began to recede, but her agitation did not. She needed to get away from them and that tunnel.
“Well?” Barba asked.
Nat waited several moments, savoring the anxiety building in the room. How do they like it? she wondered with a little animus. How do they like being kept in the dark?
“Depends on what you define as a problem,” Nat finally said, her voice low. “I had a problem being in a forest where there shouldn’t have been a forest. I had a problem when my feet were more in control of me than my head. I had a problem with the ring of prickly trees piercing my skin.” Her voice continued to rise. “I had a problem seeing three armed men that looked like him”—she pointed to Andris as he walked into the room—“pass too close while I was stuck in the stupid tree.” She took a deep breath. “I had a problem with something blue chasing me through the tops of the trees on my way back. And did I mention that I had a problem with wherever it was you sent me?” she yelled and pointed to the tunnel.
“The blue thing—was it far behind? Did it see you enter the cliff?” Ethet asked, ignoring Nat’s hysteria.
“What?” Nat shook in little spasms of anger. The bowl tumbled out of her hand.
“Was the blue thing far behind?” Ethet shook her head and bent her long frame to retrieve the bowl.
None of them seemed the least bit fazed by Nat’s outburst. She looked from face to face. Oberfisk looked away. Barba held her hands at her side. Estos and Andris stood with their backs to the gaping entrance. She closed her eyes and bent her head. What she needed was to get out of here—and fast. Answer the question and leave, she commanded herself. She lifted her head and focused on Ethet. She brought her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly.
“It was far enough away when I noticed it, and it was just a blur of color. What is it?” she asked, her voice flat.
“A blue monkey.” Everyone turned to Andris. Estos rolled his eyes. “They’re rare, but occasionally show up in those woods,” Andris continued in a professorial tone, ignoring Estos’ grimaces.
“Oh, please.” Nat released her knees, unhooked her cloak, and tossed it on the bench. The dagger clattered to the floor. She removed her boots, which landed in the opposite corner of the room. “I’m getting my things and then I’m gone.” She walked over to Andris while unstrapping her belt. “Do you really think I’m that stupid?” She shoved the belt into his chest. It felt like she’d just slapped a brick wall. “There are no blue monkeys in North America, Andris. There are no forests that grow inside limestone cliffs!” she said, backing away toward the door.
“No one said you were in North America.” Andris walked to the tunnel entrance and looked into the darkness. Nat stopped and watched him. She knew she should leave, but curiosity got the better of her.
“Since no one else seems willing, are you going to tell me where I went?” She meant the question to be both an accusation and a challenge, and she shot Estos a quick look before turning back to Andris. But all she got from him was a sneer that, she decided, looked a lot like his smile.
Barba began picking up the articles of discarded clothing. “Andris, since you seem intent on goading the girl, you can explain.” She gave him a disapproving look. He shrugged and rolled his eyes. “But”—Barba held up a hand as Nat began to speak—“I need you to answer a few questions first.”
Nat crossed her arms. Maybe she’d get some answers of her own if she played along. “Go ahead.”
“You placed the message in the tree?”
“Yes,” she
said through clenched teeth.
“The men that you saw—how many were there?” Estos was at Barba’s side. He had an apologetic look on his face.
“Three. They were on the other side of the meadow. I know they didn’t see me, because I was sitting on a branch on the opposite side of the tree.”
“Why were you sitting in the tree?” Estos furrowed his brow. “I told you to put the paper in the eye and leave, not to climb the tree.”
“I had a problem with reaching the tree.” Nat held up her swollen hand.
“Oh,” Estos said. “He must have planted them there to protect it,” he said to himself, loud enough for Nat to overhear.
Nat leaned against the wall. “Whoever ‘he’ is, he did a good job.” Her hand still hurt, but less so. Her head was beginning to pound. She suddenly remembered the envelope of money. She addressed the room. “I’ll tell you what happened without interruption, then you’ll give me my money and let me go home.”
At first, no one spoke, then Estos said, “Of course.”
Nat relayed the events. Even Annin stood still as she described her run back to the entrance. When she finished, Andris broke the silence.
“It appears you earned your money.” He tossed the envelope to her. “Go change and I’ll take you home. I think everyone else needs a little time to digest the implications of your successful outing.” He held the door open. Nat shuddered slightly as she passed him.
“I’ll go with you.” Estos started to follow her.
“No, my lord. You need to be part of the conversation, since it was your idea to bring her in.” Andris closed the door on him and followed Nat to the base of the stairs. “Your things are in your room,” he said, pointing to the stairs as if she needed directions. “Get dressed, and I’ll wait for you outside the front entrance of the shop.”
He disappeared down the hall, leaving Nat alone. The more she was around Andris, the more she disliked him. She had no intention of being around him ever again after today.
When Nat pushed open the shop’s door, a slightly rusted orange Power Wagon belched black smoke in front of her. She trudged toward it, squinting through the bright snow. The passenger door opened with a groan. She climbed in and used both hands to pull the door shut. She kept one hand on the door handle in case she had to make a quick escape.
A few cars moved slowly through the deep snow that covered the side streets. A city plow sat square in the middle of the road where it had broken down. Andris skirted the workers trying to coax the plow back to life and barely missed taking out a fire hydrant. She tightened her grip on the door handle and wondered where Andris had gotten his driver’s license, if he even had one.
He reached the main road leading to campus. A three-foot-high bank of snow ran down the middle of the road. He gunned the engine and blasted through the bank, then turned the truck into the parking lot of the Student Center.
“Over there.” Nat gestured to the entrance and pulled her bag over her shoulder. She did not want him dropping her off at her dorm. He slowed the truck to a stop, but when she pulled on the door handle, Andris quickly clamped his hand down on hers.
“A few things before you get out, Natalie.” He released his grip, and she lifted her hand away from the door, knowing that arguing would be pointless. He turned off the engine.
“Go ahead.” She stared out the cracked windshield at the lone snowplow making its way across the parking lot. The faster he said what he needed to, the sooner she could put this bizarre experience behind her.
“I don’t trust you.” The sound of the plow scraping against the asphalt filled the cab. Andris continued, “Before you get the idea of telling anyone about what you saw this morning, think carefully. No one will ever believe you. The entrance is easily hidden. Our predecessor knew there was too much at stake to leave it undefended. If anyone were ever to come poking around, they would simply find a studio for stage and theater props.” His voice was cold.
He waited, and finally Nat said, “You’ve made your point. May I go now?”
“Not yet.”
She sank back into the seat.
“As I see it, you have two choices. You can step out of this car and never see any one of us again, except Cairn or Estos in passing. What you saw and did today will become a memory of a strange dream that will slowly disappear over time. Annin will make certain of that.” Andris tapped a finger to his head. “Or, as much as I hate to even suggest it, you can continue to help us since you’ve now proven yourself useful.”
She felt her cheeks grow hot and turned toward him. “Why would I help you—any of you? You all deceived me and messed with my head to get me to do something that I never would have agreed to do. Why would I ever do anything for any of you again?” The reflection off the snow highlighted the tiny lines around Andris’ green eyes as he smiled. Nat suppressed an urge to punch him.
“We have lots of money,” he said, taunting her.
“I think I’d rather find another source.” Nat had a feeling they knew all about her financial problems.
“Nothing will pay as well as we would. Well, I can think of a few other things, but they don’t really seem your style. Then again, I could be wrong.” He swatted away her slap, gripped her wrist, and leaned in close. “You learned something today that just obliterated so many of your truths. Until Annin gets into your head, you won’t stop thinking about any of it. You won’t stop wondering what it was you experienced.” He let go, and she yanked her arm away. “The only way to find the answers is to help us. It’s your decision to make, but don’t wait too long. Annin has a very long reach unless you know how to block her.” He gestured to the door and started the engine.
Nat flew out of the truck and up the stairs to the Student Center in a matter of seconds. From behind the safety of the thick glass doors, she watched Andris lean over, pull the door shut, and roll away. The campus plow slowly scraped over the tire tracks. Nat looked down. A scrolling green vine peeked out from under her coat sleeve.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Nat lapped the early morning joggers occupying the inner lanes of the indoor track. Her feet flew over the spongy surface. She lengthened her stride, pushing herself to run faster. Sweat poured from her brow and stung her eyes. She wiped it away and glanced at the vine and spear markings on her forearm before quickly looking at the massive clock hanging high on the wall. The thick black hands read 5:45. She’d been running almost an hour.
The white lane lines blurred and turned a hue of pink against the reddish color of the track. The color reminded her of the red boulder. She slowed her pace. Bright lights reflected off the bleachers set against one wall of the athletic facility. Estos sat on the lowest row and leaned over the tubular guardrail that separated the bleachers from the track. She ran by twice without lifting her eyes. On the third pass, she stopped right in the middle of the track and stared up at him.
“What do you want?” she said, her chest heaving.
“I need to talk to you, Natalie—please.” His eyes looked slate gray from where she stood. She tilted her chin and let out a long, slow breath. The tip of her ponytail clung to her sweaty back. She jogged farther down the track and grabbed a dented water bottle and towel. The metal stairs leading to the bleachers made a hollow ringing sound with each step she took. She draped the towel over her neck, unscrewed the water bottle, and walked along the narrow walkway toward Estos. He stood and rubbed his palms against his pants.
Good, he’s nervous, she thought as she took a swig of water. She sat on the grooved bleacher and watched the joggers pass on the other side of the guardrail.
“May I tell you a story?”
“That’s an odd way to start this conversation, but go ahead. You’ve got fifteen minutes.” She kept looking at the track, but sensed each small movement he made when he sat next to her.
“There’s a place called Fourline.”
“Not Canada.” She pressed the water bottle against her lips.
“No, not Canada.” He laughed and Nat couldn’t help herself. She turned and gave him a wry smile. Little lines formed around his eyes when he smiled in return, but dark circles lingered under his long lashes. She wiped the towel across her neck.
“About six years ago, my sister was killed right after her coronation as regent of Fourline.” The laughter disappeared from his eyes.
Nat’s hand froze midair. She carefully placed her bottle on the bench.
“A man my family trusted for decades secretly ordered her murder. He took over as temporary regent. He lied to the people, making them believe the Sisters—people like Barba and Ethet—had a hand in her death. Then he began systematically destroying the Sisters’ Houses and everything that made our country prosperous and safe. He told my people that the Sisters had conspired with”—he paused and glanced at his clenched fists—“with an enemy that was wreaking havoc along our coastline and southern forests. He sowed so much fear that enough people started to believe him, thinking he was the only one who could protect Fourline after my sister’s murder.” His voice was full of bitterness, and Nat felt an overwhelming sense of loss when she examined his face. She held her questions and listened.
