by Unknown
“Ready, Bea?”
“Do I have a choice?” I respond back as I lean forward into Gabe and wrap my arms around his waist. “Let’s get out of here.”
Gabe starts up the speeder, and I can barely hear its engine through the clamor of the wind, thunder, and the ringing of the bell. He pulls his legs up and gets ready to take off through the opposite side of the tent, where the opening hasn’t been tightly secured. Just as we start to move, gunfire tears through the canvas of the tent, perforating it with tiny holes that are ripped open more by the wind. Outside, I can catch the shadows of Rogues who are quickly approaching, but I can’t tell how far away they are.
Both of us duck down, and the speeder comes to a halt as Gabe fumbles for the gun that he has slung around his shoulder. The assault from the outside doesn’t stop, and he drags me off the bike and onto the ground behind it to take cover. “We’re going to have to fight them off!” he yells at me through another thunder crash.
I crawl over to the speeder and prop my rifle up onto the seat, opening fire toward the Rogues. If we want to get out of here, there’s no time to waste. Gabe sets up next to me and pulls back on his trigger, and though it’s hard to see anything in the darkness, when the lightning flashes through the sky, we can catch flickering glimpses of angry, sand-worn faces, and men blindly firing their weapons in our direction.
I continue to squeeze the trigger, and a few of the shadows from the outside drop to the ground, only to be replaced by more. We are outnumbered. How are we ever going to escape?
A bullet wizzes by my ear, and I duck down, only to hear Gabe gasp in pain behind me. I stop firing just long enough to turn and seek him out. “Gabe? Gabe! Are you okay?”
He is somewhere on the ground at first, but then he pulls himself back up and sets his gun on the speeder once more. “I’m hit. They got me in the arm.” He sucks a pained breath in through his teeth. “There are too many of them.”
He confirms what I’ve feared. There are too many of them, and only two of us. The whole camp will be after us now. On top of all of that, Gabe is hurt. Needing to get out of here has become more than a priority.
The Rogues breach the tent, ripping down a large chunk of canvas. The wind blows over some speeders that are close to the edges, and a few people trip over them and fall onto each other. They are like the blind leading the blind, as they aimlessly try to seek us out, using the flashes of lightning to guide their way.
“You need to get out of here,” Gabe murmurs by my ear, then opens fire again, warding off those who are getting too close to us. Men are screaming, adding to the clamor of everything else.
“But what about you?” I am not leaving without him. I can’t leave him behind … not again. Not to these people. They will probably kill Gabe if they get their hands on him, and I would never forgive myself for it.
I’m not given much choice. Gabe picks me up and puts me back onto the speeder. Holding my head in his hands, he looks me in the eyes and then leans in to speak close to my ear. “You have to get out of here. Don’t worry about me. I’ll catch up.”
“I can’t leave you!” I yell back at him, then duck down as gunfire rains over our heads, slicing into the canvas behind us and tearing it open. Outside, I can see how the lightning streak across the sky in branched lines of light, stretching outward and touching many different points on the ground. It illuminates the nothingness that spans on forever in every direction, lending it a certain sort of brilliance.
“You have to.” Gabe’s fingers press into my cheeks and behind my ears, and he pulls me forward, pressing his lips fully against mine. I kiss him back, though it is filled with fear and apprehension, and when he pulls away, I hardly have time to say goodbye before he starts my speeder up. “I’ll find you, Bea.”
“Gabe … ” And then, the Rogues are there, and one of them reaches out to grab my bike to tip it over, but I pull back on the throttle and shoot out of the tent, leaving Gabe behind. I race into the flashing lightning, tears streaming down my cheeks, and an ache in my heart. I can’t hear anything from the camp anymore. Maybe the bell is still ringing, but everything has gone mute for me. Though the sand stings my face, all I can feel is the pressure of Gabe’s lips on mine, and the sinking despair that tears my heart out of my chest.
I head west, back to Aura, sobbing the whole way, until the storm dissipates, and the clouds give way to a beautiful blue sky. It is as if none of this has happened, though the ever-present absence of Gabe reminds me that it did.
I am the messenger of life. I am the bringer of the cure. I am the Seer who has not only left her friend behind once, but has managed to do it again.
I am nothing without Gabe.
***
When I get to Aura’s spaceport, I am quickly met by the guards, who stop my speeder on the edge of the tarmac and practically drag me off its seat. I must look travel-weary and worn, judging by the way they are staring at me. I’ve forgotten about the blood on my shirt, or the irritated redness to my skin from driving under the hot, desert sun. My hair sticks to the sheen of sweat that covers my arms and face, and I am out of breath, as if I’ve run this whole way instead.
It doesn’t take long before they realize who I am, and almost all at once, they let me go and step back. “Queen Beatrice.”
Queen Beatrice. I am a queen now. How could I have forgotten? Not only am I the Keeper of the City and the Abandoner of Friends, but now I am the Queen of Aura.
One of them asks, “Are you hurt?”
I look down at my stained shirt and shake my head. “No.” I am not hurting in any physical sense, at least. “I need to get this to your healers.”
The guards glance at each other in confusion. “Get what to the healers, Your Highness?”
Have they forgotten so easily why I was sent out into nothingness? I reach into the messenger bag and feel around for the plant, though I can’t help but think about Gabe and what has become of him now. Is he already dead? Have they captured him? Are they torturing him?
My fingers brush against the cool leaves of the plant, and I carefully pull it out to let the others see. “I’ve brought back the cure.”
They waste no time getting me into a shuttle to take me to Aura. Everything happens so quickly, and I’m hardly paying attention to any of it. As the shuttle flies over the empty span of land between the spaceport and Aura, I stare out the window and back toward the east, where I’ve left Gabe behind. How am I ever going to explain this to Elan and Brandon? They will never forgive me. Ever. And if they don’t forgive me, how will any of the Seers find it in themselves to accept me back to the City?
I look down to my hands, which cup the little plant with the purple leaves. This plant is going to save the Dreamcatchers from extinction. The plant that will save Echo from his mother’s fate. How can something so little mean something so big? And how could it have brought me to kill a man and abandon my best friend?
The shuttle arrives at the gates, and I’m escorted out of it and toward the palace. The first thing I notice is the silence. No one walks the streets, and there’s a strange odor that lingers in the air, one that reminds me of the slave camps. The stench of dying.
The guards usher me inside, and the heavy doors shut and lock behind us. The once-busy hallways of the palace are empty. Not even the men and women that make up the royal staff are anywhere to be seen. Our footsteps echo for what seem like forever, the clicking sounds bouncing off the walls with every step.
When we turn the last corner, we stop by a room that I’ve not been in before. The guards push the doors open, and inside there is a flurry of healers milling about makeshift lab stations that have been sporadically set up around the room. Vials and tubes push putrid-colored liquids into other vials and tubes, an endless maze of an unknown concoction.
I stop just inside and glance at everything and everyone, the plant still cradled in my hands. At first, the room comes to a stop not because of what I am holding, but because of my presence al
one, and they all bow in respect, a few of them murmuring “Your Highness” in a formal greeting. But then one of them, a woman with bright red hair, notices the plant, and she bounds forward, startling the guards to react and close up around me in protection.
“She has the plant!” the woman blurts, and the room comes alive once more. “She has the plant!” The healers break out into a unified cheer, and were my heart not so heavy with the fact that Gabe is probably being beaten into a bloody mess right now, I would probably smile and rejoice with them.
Instead, I carefully relinquish the plant to the red-haired woman. “Please hurry and turn this into the cure you were searching for.” I lower the tiny plant into the woman’s hands, my fingers brushing across the leaves as I pull away and step back. Immediately, she turns to join her peers once more, and the whole lot of healers get to work.
Tiredly, I look to the guard. “I wish to see my husband now.” Because I can’t possibly stand to see Brandon or Elan right now. I have too much to explain to them, and too little energy to do it. The guards obey and escort me out of the room and through the palace to where Echo’s chambers are. Our chambers.
Outside of his room, there are a handful of royal protectors who quickly move aside for me when I approach. As I get closer to the doors, I smell that odor again, the sickly, deathly scent that makes my stomach turn. Please don’t let it be too late. I wouldn’t be able to stand losing Gabe and Echo all in one day.
The room opens up before me, and inside there are a dozen healers bumbling about with herbs and poultices, carafes of water, and trays of untouched food. I can’t even see where Echo lies, as his bed is surrounded by people, servants and healers alike, all trying to do their jobs.
I clear my throat and once one of them catches my arrival, the rest of them quickly move out of the way. The bustle of people parts before me as I approach Echo’s bed, and when I am but a few steps away, I can see him clearly … and I immediately wish I never looked upon him at all.
He is nothing like how he was in my dream, when he came to visit me last. When I was curled up with Gabe, sleeping beside him. Instead, he is frail, and I can almost see his bones through his paper-thin, transparent skin. His stark blond hair is limp and brittle, and it sticks to his face, which is covered in a fevered sweat. His eyes are closed, and he’s still—too still.
I stop by his side and hesitantly put my hand out to rest on his forearm. “Echo?”
My voice brings his eyes open, and though it is not the most handsome of things, he smiles at me, his chapped lips pulling up at the corners. “Beatrice … ”
“I found it. I brought home the plant.” I say this immediately, not wanting to put him through any more torture of waiting and wondering if I’ve failed or not. The news makes him smile even more, but it’s quick to fade when he starts to cough, and blood droplets spray into the air. He’s slow to cover his mouth, and the tiny dots of red stain the white sheets used to cover him.
“That … that is wonderful news.” Echo puts one of his weak hands over mine and squeezes it. “Hopefully … they can make the antidote in time … ”
I squeeze his hand back, firm and reassuring. “They will, Echo. They will. I don’t want you to worry about it anymore, okay? You need to rest up and get better.” Despite myself, I choke on the words, tears rising to my eyes, and I quickly look away. “Just rest up and get better.”
It’s not clear if Echo had the chance to see the tears or not. But his hand slips off mine and back onto the bed, and he only nods his head in response, too weak to say much more. I can’t stand seeing him in this state, but I would be a bad wife if I walked away from my husband to let him suffer here alone. So, I pull over a chair and sit beside his bed, and at some point, I put my head down on the mattress and close my eyes, falling into a restless, broken sleep.
***
Someone throws back the curtains to the windows and the sunlight floods the room, rousing me from my dreamless slumber. I lift my head to find Echo still sleeping, his breaths coming in ragged inhales and exhales. I sigh, then brush my fingers through my hair as I sit up and notice that most of the healers are gone, and Echo and I are practically alone.
There’s a knocking at the door, to which I call out, though not too loudly. “Come in.”
Jamie and Irene bustle through the door, each of them holding covered silver trays, and each of them sporting smiles as big as their faces, as if oblivious to the fact that Aura is dying.
“It’s nice to see you back, Your Highness,” Jamie chirps as she sets the tray down on a nearby table. Irene rests hers on a table that is closer to Echo, and they both pull off the lids at the same time, revealing the breakfast underneath. The aroma of eggs and cooked meats mingles with the sickening odor, and it makes my stomach churn. But I smile politely, regardless.
“Thank you. I was getting hungry.” I let my gaze fall on Echo, wondering how they’ve been managing to keep him fed this whole time.
That’s when Irene pulls out a thick syringe filled with a pale-yellow something. She hums to herself as she picks up Echo’s arm and sticks him with the needle, which brings him to wake almost immediately. Before he has a chance to cry out in pain, Irene pushes down the plunger and empties the contents into his frail body. “There you go, Your Highness!”
Echo groggily looks to the two women, then turns his head and spots me. It is as if he’s forgotten that I have been here the whole night. He probably had forgotten. “Beatrice.”
“I’m here, Echo.” I motion to Irene to put the tray up on his lap. “Why don’t we try to eat a little bit, okay?”
He looks me over and notes the blood on my shirt. “You’re hurt?”
I forgot about the blood, and the fact that I probably still look a mess, having fallen asleep in a chair after traveling all this way on a speeder bike. Jamie rushes over and pokes at my side where the red stain has spread into a lazy circle. I put my hands down and stop her from prodding any more. “It’s not my blood,” I explain to the three of them, then lift up the shirt to let them see that my stomach is quite intact.
“Oooooh.” Jamie smiles in relief and goes back to milling about and getting things in order while Irene sets Echo’s tray up in a manner that won’t be easily tipped over by his mismanaged movements.
“What … what happened?” Echo insists, even if I really don’t want to rehash the story right here and now. Or ever, for that matter.
I lean forward and pick up his fork, dipping it into the scrambled eggs. Lifting the fork to his lips, I wait for Echo to open them so I can scoop the eggs inside. He only parts his mouth just barely enough for me to get the food in there. “There was a scuffle … when we were trying to leave. A man named Lee tried to force himself on me … ”
“He what?” Echo talks as he chews, and some of the eggs fall out of his mouth. It’s not exactly attractive, but Echo himself is looking worse for the wear anyway.
“He had me pressed to the ground, and I couldn’t get up. So, I stabbed him. In his gut.” I scoop up some more eggs and hold them up to Echo’s mouth, but this time, he doesn’t open it. He just stares into my eyes, wordless.
“It’s okay, Echo. I’m okay. I promise.” I reach out with my other hand and brush back his hair, which is greasy and sweaty. But it’s all I can do to comfort him and cool the heated hatred that boils in his gaze.
“He shouldn’t have dared,” Echo grumbles.
“But he did. And now he is dead because of it.” I take my hand back and set down the fork, choosing to pick up a piece of toast instead. Ripping off a corner, I lift it back to Echo to eat.
He opens his mouth and accepts the toast, and after chewing on it for a little while, he continues on with the questioning. “And what about Gabe?”
The words twist in my chest like a knife, and I immediately lower my eyes.
“Beatrice?” Echo asks again after swallowing down the bread.
I don’t know how long I choose not to answer Echo’s question. Time
seems to drag by forever at some points, and at others it seems to move so quickly I don’t know how to slow it down. In this moment, though, I can’t tell if it is speeding up or stopping all together. Part of me wishes it would go backward, so I can be back at the Rogue camp, so that I can pull Gabe up onto my speeder and tell him that I’m not going anywhere without him, and he can’t make me. I want to go back and save him.
I feel Echo’s hand on mine and it jars me out of my thoughts and back into the present. “I had to leave him behind.”
“Why?”
“Because … ” I start, and I want to finish with “Because I am a horrible friend” but I know that won’t be enough for Echo. Echo wants the truth, and he’s good at finding it. “They were coming after us, and there was a horrible storm, and if we had waited any longer, we would have been caught, and I wouldn’t have been able to get the plant back to Aura.” I put my head in my hands and shake it, closing my eyes. “Gabe got hit in his arm, and the Rogues were closing in on us. Before I had time to think, he put me on the speeder and told me to go … and I went. I left him behind … and I went … ”
There’s a silence that fills the air after my words. No one in the room moves or says a word, and I can only hear myself breathing inside of my hands. Or am I crying now? I can’t figure it out. When Echo puts both his hands on mine and parts my fingers away from my eyes, the cool air touches the tear tracks that run down my cheeks. “I left him behind, Echo...” I whisper in sad, broken words.
Though he is weak and dying, Echo tugs on my wrists, pulling me into the bed beside him, and he wraps his arms around me to hold me close to him. “You had to do it, Beatrice. You had to bring back the cure … ”
“Brandon and Elan are never going to forgive me.”
“I think they would understand, Beatrice. It is not as if you chose to leave Gabe behind, really. You had to.” Echo brushes his hand over my hair, petting it down in long, soothing strokes. Jamie and Irene hover by the end of the bed, keeping an eye on their king, though I also see the way they look at me in pity and concern.
