“Until death do us part, my dear Jack,” I say.
I turn, pulling out a hankie tucked within my bodice, and wipe away my soon-to-be-dead fiancé’s kiss.
A shudder rocks me awake. After putting the hovercycle on autopilot with the coordinates for the king’s location, I belted the safety straps and cried myself to sleep. Life in the Labyrinth was sheltered, literally. Confined first by living walls and then by horrifying monsters, my home was a prison I could never escape from no matter how much I ached for freedom. Now I long for the things that I may never have again: the stories told by the fire pit, nightly lullabies sung by the young mothers rocking their infants to sleep, the morning smell of wet leaves mingled with freshly brewed tea. My ma and pa.
The sky remains as dark as it did when I left the village. It should be daytime by now. I tap the gears on the dashboard clock. It ticks at a steady beat, indicating that it is functioning properly. I had estimated that the flight would take a day, but I couldn’t have slept that long, could I? And surely I’d have arrived by now.
The hovercycle rattles again, but this time steam billows from the engine compartment. The constant hum from the propellers slows, and the cycle begins to drop. Below, a large body of water is as inky as the early morning sky. With as far as I’ve traveled, it could only be the Manx Sea. Another jerk sends my pulse sprinting through my veins. I attempt to kick-start the engine, but the machine sputters. As the hovercycle loses altitude, I search for somewhere to land.
Torchlight flickers along the edge of a shoreline. In the shadows of the dancing flames, I can barely see the outline of domed huts. Hope and fear mingle in my thoughts as I wonder whether the residents of the coastal town are hostile or friendly. Either way, with the swift descent of my hovercycle, I doubt I will make it to the land before I lose all power.
With no other options available, I’ll have to take my chances with the strangers. Aiming for the shore, I prepare to abandon the doomed machine. A chill races through me. Any body of water this far north is cool on a warm day, but with these early winter temperatures, the water is likely cold enough to kill me. Once I hit the water, twenty minutes is all I’ll have before hypothermia sets in. Thirty at most.
With a flip of a lever the vehicle switches from autopilot to manual, disengaging the crank arms below the foot cages. The propellers halt, making the craft list. Before it has time to topple me over, I pedal furiously. Although it isn’t enough to gain altitude, it does slow my fall.
Within minutes, muscle fatigue sets in. I grit my teeth, forcing my legs to keep moving. The whoosh of the propellers is inconsistent, wavering as I struggle to keep moving. It won’t be long before my muscles give out. The shore is hundreds of meters away. I’ll never make it.
The whitecaps on the undulating sea draw close. Salty spray mists my face. I slam my hand down hard on the chrome emergency button, expecting the foot cages to spring open, but only my right foot releases. My left boot remains attached within the toe cage. Panicked, I struggle to pull my foot free.
I take in a breath just before the craft plunges into the water.
The hovercycle bobs once before the sea overtakes it, bringing me down with it. My toes and fingers immediately freeze, and I quickly start to sink. I swing my right leg off the machine, draw my father’s gun, and place the barrel on the cage latch. Squeezing the trigger, the locking mechanism shatters when the bullet strikes the metal. Shoving my weapon back into its holster, I kick as hard as my legs will manage.
My lungs burn, desperately needing air. When I break the water’s surface, I gasp. I can hardly manage a breath as the brisk wind sweeps across my face. Treading water does not dispel the numbness that wraps my body like a blanket of needles. My teeth chatter and my eyelids grow heavy as I start to swim to shore. The coastline seems miles away. Waves toss me about in the turbulent sea. Each time I go under, I kick and sputter back to the surface.
You’re almost there, I tell myself, thinking of whatever encouraging words my parents would give me. Just keep going. Don’t give up.
My vision blurs. I can’t focus on the beckoning light beyond the water’s surface.
“Come on, Gail. One arm at a time,” I say aloud. My words are slurred.
Fatigue finds its home in my muscles. Unable to kick, I flip onto my back, trying to stay afloat. My throat burns when the icy seawater spills past my numb lips.
I’m dying.
This is it. My life snuffed out like the flame of a candle.
I’ve let down my father.
The Bloodred Queen will never be stopped.
I’ve failed the world.
I take one final sweet breath and give in to the roiling waves.
A gonizing screams once billowed throughout the prison— but not any longer. Other than the snap of a whip, all is quiet. Doc hangs limply from wrist shackles bolted to the stone pillar as the others look on from their separate cells. I check the pocket watch attached to the chain belt I wear. It’s a lovely accessory confiscated from one of the Everland girls. What was her name? Ah yes, Lily.
It is almost noon. The queen will be expecting me shortly, so it’s time to wrap this up.
I must admit, it is quite impressive how long Doc’s lasted. While the cries persisted through the first twenty lashes, the last thirty were met with silence. Even Lily’s pleas to end his suffering have become quiet. Instead she watches the Haploraffen soldier flog Doc with tearstained cheeks and a murderous glare.
Behind their own cell bars, the other captives appear defeated. Gwen, Alyssa, Maddox, and Pickpocket keep their gazes to the floor, seeming unable to watch their comrade’s torture. Even Jack appears uneasy as he stands by and watches the flogging.
Pete, on the other hand, glares at me, fire in his expression.
These eight are the only survivors of Evergreen.
“You killed her,” Pete says through clenched teeth. “You killed Bella. You murdered the entire village.”
“Circumstantial casualties,” I say with a shrug.
Pete’s knuckles turn white as he grips his bars. His dark hair hangs messily in his face. “I swear to you, Katt, I will kill you. For every innocent person you have murdered, and especially Bella, you will die.”
I laugh. “Calm down, Lost Boy, you’ll be getting your hands plenty bloody in time, only it won’t be mine.”
Pete’s expression draws up into a snarl, but he says nothing. I imagine he’s concocting a dozen ways to spill my blood. Fortunately, if my plans go as I hope, he won’t be alive by the end of the week and neither will the Bloodred Queen.
The young doctor moans, shifting slightly in his shackles. Deep gashes zigzag across his muscular back, seeping with blood.
Judging by the portraits on the walls throughout the castle, the Bloodred Queen was once quite beautiful. Now she sits on her throne, tapping her long, clawed nails against one another, her skin turning greener by the day. All either of us desire is the antidote to the disease that has consumed us. Yet Doc remains uncooperative, revealing nothing.
“Enough!” Jack says, seizing the whip from the Haploraffen soldier. “He’s no good to anyone if you kill him.”
I shrug. “I have no plans to kill him. Just to bring him close enough to wishing he were dead so I can torture him again until he gives me what I want.”
Jack rolls up his sleeve and exposes his arm. “Just take my blood. I’ve received the antidote. You can figure out the cure from that. You have everything else you need. The Professor’s research, the vial of the virus, and the apple.”
“The apothecarists have not found a proper cure, and there are new aches and symptoms every day. I don’t have time for them to dissect your blood to find the antibodies they need. Doc, on the other hand, has …” I pause, biting my lip before I correct myself. “Had developed an antidote that worked,” I say, nodding toward Jack’s scarred fingers. “He made it once, he’ll make it again.”
I pace slowly around Doc, the heels of my boots clicking
against the rock floor. Each step like the second hand of a clock, ticking down until I rise up as queen. “Either Doc creates the cure, or he’ll suffer greatly. One way or another, he’ll give me what I want.”
Jack grips Doc by his chin and turns his face toward him. The young doctor, covered in sweat and drool, barely opens his eyes.
“Haven’t you had enough?” he asks. “Just agree to her terms. She’s going to kill you!”
Grinning, I’m certain that Doc will surrender. Especially with the urging of Jack, once a Lost Kid himself.
Panting, Doc stumbles through his words. “I’d rather gouge my own eyes out before I gave either of you the antidote.”
At Doc’s response, rage courses through me. “I can make that happen.”
Snatching the crop from Jack’s hand, I land three more lashes.
“Stop it!” Lily shouts, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Please, just stop!”
Hesitating a moment, I stare into Lily’s beautiful eyes. It occurs to me that perhaps there’s no bodily harm I can inflict that will make Doc bend to my request. However, he is not without his weaknesses.
“You’re right. Killing the doctor would do me no good, would it? Perhaps I’ve been going at this all wrong.
“Bring the girl,” I say with a nod to the Haploraffen flogger. Heeding my instruction, it trudges toward Lily, its steel footsteps sounding like a death march. The tip of its finger opens, exposing a skeleton key. It unlocks Lily’s cell door and drags her next to Doc. She is thrown violently to the floor. Doc, pale and appearing exhausted, peers at her. Panic sets in as he realizes what’s about to happen.
“What are you doing?” Jack says, his eyes wide.
“Leave her alone!” Gwen shouts.
“I’ll take her lashings,” Doc says, desperation in his tone.
Standing over Lily, I stare into her defiant glare. “I want that antidote, and if you won’t produce it, maybe watching one of your own suffer will change your mind.”
Raising the whip, I prepare to bring it down violently on Lily. She doesn’t turn it away. Only fixes her gaze on me, determined and fearless.
“Wait! I’ll tell you,” Doc says, his voice weak.
Lily’s head turns toward Doc. “No, you won’t,” she insists. “You know as soon as she has control of that antidote the entire world will be at her command. You can’t give it to her. She’ll—”
She doesn’t have a chance to finish her thought. With the back side of my hand, I slap her across the face with such force that her cheek blooms a bright pink.
“Your voice is not the one I want to hear,” I say. Nudging Doc with the toe of my boot, I draw his attention. “Start singing.”
“Doc, don’t you do it,” Maddox growls. “Giving her the antidote will destroy any chance of undoing the Bloodred Queen’s destruction.”
Jack shakes his head, his gaze darting from me to Doc. Clearly his allegiance lies with the Lost Kids, but I’ll be sure to rectify his disloyalty at a later time.
“He’s right. The antidote in her hands is as dangerous as the disease itself,” Alyssa says.
Doc drops his chin to his chest, choked sobs coming from him.
I kneel and pat his disheveled blond hair. “That’s a good boy.”
“Hey, Doc,” Pickpocket says. Doc looks at him, peering through his overgrown locks. “We’ve got your back, buddy. You don’t have to do this.”
Doc bites his lip, seeming unsure what to do. I give him a moment, but only one.
“I don’t have all day,” I say. Standing, I return to Lily and raise the crop. This time, fear is evident in her expression. “Perhaps a few lashings across that pretty little face of yours will change their minds.”
“No!” Doc screams as I bring down the whip hard.
Lily raises an arm and turns her head away. The crop slashes the skin of her forearm. She yells in pain.
“Stop! I’ll do it!” Doc says, his words filled with sorrow. “I’ll make the antidote. Just leave her alone.”
Crouching, I say, “I knew we could come to an understanding. Now there’s one last task we need to discuss.”
“Katt, I swear, you won’t get away with this,” Pete says. “You will die; if not by my hand, by another.”
Standing, I pace in front of the prison doors before stopping outside Pete’s cell. “You want blood to spill, I’ve got just the offer for you.”
“Come a little closer, Katt, and I’ll fulfill that offer,” he says, fury taut across his features.
“Not mine,” I chuckle. “Now, how would that benefit me?”
“It’d put you out of your misery,” he retorts. “You were just moaning about how much your body aches. I’d happily help rid you of the pain forever.”
“An offer I’ll have to refuse, but the blood I can propose to you is the Bloodred Queen’s,” I say.
“The queen? You’ve got a whole army of mutant monkeys that can accomplish that for you,” Maddox says.
One of the Haploraffen guards growls and bares its teeth in Maddox’s direction.
“No offense,” Maddox says, holding his hands up. “You’re handsome mutant monkeys, as far as mutant monkeys go.”
Again, I pace the cells. “That’s the thing; while I may control them, they’ll never turn on their creator.”
“Creator?” Alyssa asks.
Jack drops his gaze to the ground. “My stepmother,” he says under his breath.
“The Bloodred Queen made them; she controls them,” I say. “Since they would never harm her, perhaps you might make her blood spill.”
Pete’s eyes narrow. “I’d rather spill your blood. You killed Bella.”
“And the Bloodred Queen killed everyone else important to you. She launched the attack on London. She is the one who set loose the virus to begin with. And ever since then, every Lost Kid, every person you’ve aligned with aside from these here, she’s behind their deaths,” I say. “And if the rumors are true, she killed your sister.”
Pete reaches through the bars, but I’m too far from his grasp. “The mention of my sister on your lips ever again will result in taking a limb, or two, or four, from your cold-blooded body.”
I shrug. “I guess I’ll just have to let you and your friends rot away in these cells.”
Turning, I find Lily and Doc clutching each other, stirring an idea in my head. “Bring Gwen,” I tell the Haploraffen guard.
The rage slips from Pete’s expression and is replaced with concern. “What are you doing with her?” he asks.
Jack steps in front of me. “Katt, you’ve made your point. Leave Gwen alone.”
“Your opinion was not asked for,” I say, shoving him to the side.
The Haploraffen guard retrieves Gwen, ignoring her protests, and places her in shackles. He drags her over to me.
“The extract,” I say.
The Haploraffen guard nods and hands me the dose of poison. The golden liquid shimmers within the glass tubing of the small injection needle. Grabbing Gwen’s hand, I prick her finger with the tiny needle and press down on the plunger.
Gwen takes in a breath before going limp.
“What have you done to her?” Pete shouts.
“Ensuring that you do what I ask,” I say. “That small amount of liquid has put her into a deep sleep much like what Jack experienced, only there’s one catch. If you refuse me, I’ll give her another dose that will kill her instantly.”
Pete rattles his bars in fury. “I swear, Katt, on Gwen’s life I will kill you!”
“Promises, promises,” I say with a wave of my hand. “I’m giving you a gift, Pete. The chance to kill the Bloodred Queen. Isn’t that what you’ve wanted all along?”
“You just said that these hunks of metal would never turn on the queen,” Maddox says, clearly frustrated. “I’ve had my fair share of poppy tea over time; however, what you’re talking about is mad. How do you expect us to kill the Bloodred Queen escorted by her own guard? My math might be wrong, but I
don’t see us on the right side of this deal.”
“They’ll never spill her blood, but they won’t prevent it either. And while I control the Haploraffen, they’ll do just about anything but kill the queen by their own volition,” I say. “Therefore, it’ll take you to kill her.”
“So what are the guards for? Just let us go get the job done,” Lily says.
I laugh. “And let you wander the castle grounds on your own? That suggestion is about as absurd as they come.”
“Let me escort them,” Jack says.
“Even more absurd,” I say. “Your history of wavering allegiances speaks for itself, and until I know you’re on board with my plan, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
Jack frowns.
“So we kill the queen and get you the antidote. And then what?” Pickpocket asks.
“You can have Gwen back, completely restored to health. When you’ve held up your end of the bargain, I’ll send you back home,” I say.
“Home?” Maddox asks, eyeing the rest wearily. “Where’s home?”
“That remains to be determined,” I say, turning to the Haploraffen guard. “Escort those two to the laboratory. I want guards at the prison exit and one keeping tabs on the rest here in the prison until Doc and Pete return. As for Gwen, I have a sweet little place tucked away where she can slumber until my demands are met.”
“Where are you taking her?” Pete growls.
“Trust me, Lost Boy, she’ll be well cared for until you’ve fulfilled your end of the deal,” I say, patting his cheek as he struggles in the guard’s grip. Turning toward the Haploraffen holding Gwen’s limp body, I wave a hand. “Take her to the tower. And, Jack, you’ll be joining me.”
Wearily, Jack looks at the Lost Kids before following the Haploraffen guard holding Gwen.
“Bring her back!” Pete shouts. “I swear, Katt, you’ll be dead by the end of this night.”
Sauntering down the hallway to the entrance, I enjoy the sweet harmony as my prisoners protest while the Haploraffen bend to my demands.
Water laps at my face. I shiver, my teeth chattering. Barely lucid, I curl into a ball. The murmur of voices surrounds me, but I’m too exhausted. Too cold. The last dregs of night lull me to sleep despite dawn’s light. While I dodged one bullet by not drowning, death by hypothermia is an agonizing but welcome friend. I drift in and out of consciousness, catching fragments of images.
Ozland Page 6
