by Arden, Mari
The Saguinox female is walking in the center, slowly examining us. When she gets to me, I lower my eyes, holding my breath. The seconds tick by before she finally grunts, moving to the person next to me. Nymphora catches my eyes, mouthing what is going on? I only shake my head in answer because, really, I'm the newbie here. She probably knows more than me.
After many torturous minutes the Saguinox walks back to the center and claps her hands for our attention. I roll my eyes because it isn't necessary, considering the only sounds heard are her heavy walking. I glance up as she begins to talk, and my eyes widen as I notice something behind her.
A door.
It's barely visible, neatly camouflaged just like the windows and doors on their ships are. My curiosity piqued, it takes every ounce of willpower to look away.
"The one thing you all have in common are the disgusting smells that roll off of you like shit. We have pets on Sangine that smell less than you," she snickers. I grate my teeth in anger. "No one can be offered smelling or looking like you do."
My heart clenches in my chest. Offered?
"This is the bathing room." She gestures up and around, but I know better than to raise my head to look. "New offerings will be given to you to wear. Your job is to clean yourselves and make your body presentable. If you're around filth enough, you start to stink like it. And I'm tired of smelling shit."
My chest is squeezing itself, and I glance at Chloris. She looks as sick as I feel. I'd never seen a green face go white before.
The guard's voice is hard as she continues. "Escape is an illusion. Should you attempt, he will find you, and you will be very sorry." With the standard Saguinox warning issued, she turns her back, and walks out. We're left with three smirking guards who suddenly look very interested in us and I want to vomit.
"You may go," she calls to us over her shoulders, but we're not sure what she means or where to go. I look up, and gasp at what I see. My eyes drift over white walls, and white floors. To the side of us are golden curtains. I assume they're shower curtains because there are white tiles underneath. A showerhead peeks through, glinting. To the other side of us is a petite fountain. It's gorgeous and grand, something found in aristocratic homes in ancient Greece. Blue water shimmers inside, and everything is so beautiful I almost forget where I am. This place is a stark contrast to our prison cells. Just being here makes me feel cleaner.
"What. The. Heck." Nymphora whispers to me, sliding closer. "They work us all day, then they want us clean and bring us to a place like this?"
I shake my head. "I don't understand. Do you think they're planning to sacrifice all of us in one final, grand offering?"
She looks bleaker than I've ever seen her. "I don't know."
None of us are sure what to do so we follow each other. One enters into a shower stall, and slips her dress off, leaving it hanging on the shower curtain. I glance at the guards, and they're watching us with hot gazes. One in particular is staring hard at Chloris, his gaze too forceful for my liking. My hands curl into fists, and I resist the urge to smack the smiles from their faces. I'm stubborn, and I endure as long as I can. Before long, hot air from each stall drifts over, beckoning me. I can smell dirt and sweat on my body, and the warmth is so delightful I finally give in.
Raising the heavy golden curtains, I marvel at the clean tiles, and the shiny showerhead. It looks more expensive than anything I've ever been able to afford. The irony doesn't escape me: I'm locked in a prison, worked to death, but dressed in couture red, showering in a palatial bathroom.
This is so sick.
It reminds me of prisoners on death row. The night before they're sentenced to die they get to choose any meal they want. It can be as elaborate as they desire, one last piece of heaven before they're shut out forever. That thought leaves a dry taste in my mouth, and I don't enjoy the shower as much as I want to.
Pulling off my dress, I hang it over the shower curtains. It's not very high and my head and neck are still visible. I turn a knob and instantly hot water cascades over my skin, making my hair heavy. My brown locks turn black when wet, and I move it to the side, clutching the showerhead. I can hear the deep voices of the male guards, and I give them my back, seething with hatred. I hear fabric slipping down, and I turn just in time to see one take my dress, grinning wickedly as his eyes travel down my skin.
My hands are hot, and I lift my fist, but the sound of something smoldering distracts me. What the--
I gasp as I look down, seeing my small fist smoking under the water. I shout out, but the water overpowers my cries. I look frantically around to see if anyone notices, but no one does, enjoying their last bit of comfort before the doom. Nymphora is beside me, and she looks curious at my frantic expression. I raise my fist to show her, but the smoke is gone, devoured by a torrent of water. Her expression is puzzled, and I turn back, shaking with a new fear.
Something's wrong with me. Rhys's voice in my head, and the strange hotness in my body. I try to cover every inch of my skin with water, desperate to drown out the heat inside.
Nymphora walks by, wrapped in a red towel. She hands me the one in her hands, and I wrap it securely around my chest before stepping out. The first things I notice are the other girls. Some are taking showers for a second or third time, basking in the little comfort. Others are lounging around, sitting on the ledge of the fountain. They don't talk much because there isn't much to say. For an instant, the sight looks normal like a bunch of girls having a spa day. Nymphora, with her blue skin steps into view, and the picture breaks, replaced with a more stark reality.
The second thing I notice is there are no guards in sight. I stop short, blinking, but no glowing eyes appear. I'm not stupid enough to think of escape, but my mind is anxious as another idea sprouts.
"Nymphora," I talk casually, standing beside her. "Do you see what I'm seeing?"
She glances around nonchalantly, lazily turning her head. "No guards."
"Exactly," I murmur. We both catch each other's eyes, thinking the same thing.
"We probably don't have much time. But it's not likely we'll get another chance."
She's nodding. "Yes. We'll need someone to watch for us, warn us when they come." Simultaneously, we both search for a spot of green. It doesn't take long to find Chloris. She's off to the side, away from the group. Her eyes are half closed, and she looks deep in thought.
"Maybe I should be the one to ask her," I glance at Nymphora. "Something tells me you two aren't the best of friends." Her nostrils flare out in agreement, but she doesn't elaborate further. There isn't a lot of time so I don't hesitate, strolling with determination forward.
"Hi Chloris."
She opens one eye to look at me. "Aren't you supposed to be plotting something stupid and deadly right about now? No one's around to catch you."
It doesn't surprise me she's noticed the absent guards.
"Funny, you should say that," I begin, trying to sound light.
Both her eyes open, and she's staring as if she can read my mind.
"I was hoping that maybe you could do me a favor."
"No."
I swallow because she's definitely mad at me. "Chloris," I try again. "You know as well as I do what this means." I hold my hands out, gesturing to my newly cleaned body. "You heard her. We're offerings. We're not meant to ever leave this place." She flinches, and I press harder, coming closer. "There is hope. We can escape. But we can't do it without your help." I plead. "We're as good as dead here, Chloris. Can't you see that?"
She's looking away from me, staring at the floor.
Precious time slips away with each passing moment.
"Help us," I urge her. "Help yourself. Help this world."
I didn't mean to sound as dramatic as I did, yet when the words leave my mouth I know I'm right. "If we stay here, no one will make it out to warn the people. The Saguinox will take us all." I shake my head. "Nothing will ever be the same."
That seems to jolt her a little bit, and she glanc
es up at me. "Nothing will ever be the same for you no matter if I help you or not."
I look away because she's right. Even if I make it out of here, I'll never be able to live the same life, knowing there are creatures like Chloris and the Saguinox out there. My dad's face drifts into my mind, and a fresh pang of homesickness stabs at my heart. "Help me. Just give us a chance."
Her eyes are unblinking. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into with her," she finally says, nodding to Nymphora.
Something cold comes over me with her words. "It doesn't matter. We have to get out of here."
She gives me a look that says you've been warned. "I'll help you," she agrees.
I breathe a sigh of relief and I almost hug her. "Thank you."
She doesn't say anything and she doesn't look happy.
"We need you to watch for the guards, and warn us when they come. We're-"
"I don't need to know what stupid thing you're about to do," she interrupts. "You just do what you need to do, and I'll play my part."
"Can you give us a whistle or something if you see them?"
She whistles, and the sound is perfect: low, but high pitched enough it travels. Another whistle answers back, and we turn. Nymphora is giving us the thumbs up. This seems to distress Chloris more, and without a word she walks off, moving slowly to the entrance.
I rush to Nymphora. "Ready?"
She gives me a hard look and says with a smirk, "Of course."
I point to the door on the opposite side of us. It's behind the fountain, and is barely visible inside the wall. I'd only notice it because there was a black line as thick as a piece of hair visible in the light. "It's a door. They're good at disguising entrances."
"Wouldn't doubt it."
"I'm good at not being seen," I inform her, still amazed something I hated my whole life might be the only thing keeping me alive.
She lifts a perfect blue eyebrow. "So am I."
We smile at each other in understanding. "Let's go."
My heart is pounding, and adrenaline is pulsing from my core, but I manage to move with casual nonchalance. It feels like forever, but I'm sure it's only several seconds before we reach the white wall. A few girls are having whispered conversations, yet it's too quiet. My eyes find Chloris to reassure myself she's there, and I spot her almost instantly, leaning against the door, head bowed. She looks so alone. A stab of regret hits my conscience. I look at Nymphora's blazing eyes and I know I've done what is best.
I signal with my hand, and Nymphora moves forward, blocking my small body with her taller one. Fingers fumbling, I try to find something on the wall to hold onto; maybe a latch or handle, anything. I press both my palms on where I think the door might be and push it sideways, like I'm moving a sliding door. A soft click, and I still, sucking in a fast breath. I push again, harder this time, and the door moves.
"I got it," I whisper to Nymphora.
"Go in. Quickly!"
I don't wait to be told twice. I slide the wall, wincing when it makes more noise than I want. When the space is wide enough, I slip my body through.
"Nymphora," I whisper urgently. "Come in."
She does, struggling to fit her tail in, and I slide the door further back. When she's inside, I push it until it's an inch from being closed.
Alarmed, I voice a sudden thought in my head. "What if we can't hear Chloris?" It's too late now, and I want to kick myself for my impulsiveness.
"We will," Nymphora assures me. "She saw you go through. She knows where we are. She'll come here to warn us," she says confidently. I close my eyes in relief. So Chloris was looking.
Suddenly, I smell something burning.
The scent is sweet and smoky at the same time, like rotten beef over a frying pan or burning rubber in syrup. The smell is so pungent I taste it in my mouth.
Flesh.
Chapter 18
We're in a hallway, and it's elaborately carved with swirling designs inside and on the pale walls. The design's so exquisite I can't help but wonder if corridors in Heaven are like this. When I peer closely I notice stained glass pieces decorating one side of a wall. They're meticulously cut out, each piece a perfect puzzle part to another. The colors are stunning, flashing deep jewel tones that make my senses ravenous for more. I'm so busy looking at each individual part I don't see the whole picture until I move, taking a step backward. What I see makes my skin crawl. I hear a sharp intake of breath and I know Nymphora has seen what I'm looking at.
Eyes. A dozen haunting, glowing eyes peek out from every which way, all looking up at one thing: a crystal. The eyes are staring at it, worshipping the precious stone like a god. Maybe it is. The crystal reminds me of the Washington monument with its elongated sides, and triangular top. It glitters brighter than the eyes, and I'm transfixed by its startling clarity. I lift a finger to touch the glass, and it's hard, cold- unreal.
Nymphora shudders. "Something so beautiful shouldn't be so evil."
I can't tell if she's talking about the crystal or the Saguinox. Maybe both.
The terrible smell continues to assault my senses. I want to gag. "Do you smell that?"
She sniffs the air, her blue nostrils flaring out. Something's burning. She looks at me, and I'm sure we're thinking the same thing.
"I think it's coming from over there." I point to a double door at the end. It's wide and like the one we slid from there are barely any lines to indicate an entrance. Even though I don't want to, my body ambles over, hesitant. Briefly, I wonder if there are cameras, but I doubt it. From what I'm learning about our captors, their arrogance prevents them from thinking anyone can do what we're about to try.
This time there are handles, one on each door. I pull at the golden bars, grunting from the effort. "Locked," I say with aggravation. "Damn it."
I move to the side and let Nymphora try.
She tugs at it, pushing back on one side of the door with one hand, while pulling the side next to it with the other. She struggles, but the double doors remain still. She hisses. "If only my powers worked."
I scan around, searching for anything of use, but the corridor is empty. I look at the stained glass painting. "Hmm."
I walk over, and attempt to take a piece off.
"What are you doing, Kenna?"
I'm too focused on what I want to do to answer. The little pieces are glued tight together so it's hard to tell where one begins and the other ends.
"Kenna?" she prods again.
One hand is flat against the glass, and the other is delicately trying to pry it apart. "I'm trying to get a piece out so we can use the edge to pick the lock."
She makes a sound from behind me. I turn back, letting out a breath.
"It's worth a shot," I say, a bit defensive when I see her incredulous expression.
She shakes her head. "Not your best idea."
"Desperate times call for desperate measures. Do you have a better idea?"
"Actually." Nymphora glances at the lock underneath the handles again, pensive. She turns back, smiling deviously. "I think I have something that might work." She lifts a finger up, and I watch in utter amazement as one blue fingernail starts to elongate slowly, the tip thin and pointy like a needle.
I take in a sharp breath. "I thought you said your powers are locked."
"They are." She looks at the shiny blue nail. "This isn't my power. It's a part of my body."
"You have six inch claws inside your body?" I ask in amazement. "That would've been nice to know before."
She snorts. "What can I do with these? Scratch the Saguinox to death?"
"Maybe."
She rolls her eyes.
I kneel beside her as she gently maneuvers the pointy end of her nail inside the keyhole. I've never picked a lock before, but I don't reveal that. "Just poke around until you hear a click or a gear shift," I advise.
Her eyes narrow in concentration. She jerks back, yelling "Ow!" She pulls her nail out. She looks annoyed, as she picks the broken piece
off with her other hand. "It broke."
"It'll grow back, right?" I ask, worried.
"Yeah. By tonight, probably."
"We can't wait that long!" I shriek.
She sends me a cool glance. "Relax. I got nine more." She flashes me her hands. Her pinky is growing, unsheathing like a fragile sword. The end is even smaller and pointier than her index nail had been.
"Oh." I wonder if I look as sheepish as I feel. "This place is making me dumb," I mutter.
She's laughing when she says, "The jury's still out on that one."
I give her a look, but I don't reply. Within moments, this nail breaks too, but I don't freak out because her other pinky expands, elongating until it's touching the door.
"I think I'm pushing too hard," she thinks out loud. I hold my breath in anticipation. Come on, I think. Work! Then there's a heavy click, followed by a heavier, relieved sigh from me.
She gives me a triumphant smile. "One for us, zero for the glowing aliens."
"Um, I think you mean five for the glowing aliens, and one for us," I correct, thinking about the people lost to the crystal.
She shrugs. "If you want to look at the glass half empty…"
"Shh." I hear sounds. Something is sizzling from the inside. I open the door a crack, just enough to see through. A soft breeze hits me and I'm reminded I'm naked beneath my red towel.
The female guard who took us to the bathing room this morning is standing with her hands behind her back, inspecting two figures in red robes. My heart jumps to my throat as I recognize the two men from before. Both are standing with their heads bowed, still as statues. I see a door, half opened from behind them, and I know they've been "cleaned" in preparation for this moment. The robes look fresh and the scarlet color is brilliant against the white walls.
Like the hallway we're in and the bath room, this space is completely white. The room is large, and it isn't an extension of the building. The ceiling is pyramid shaped, and seems to be made from a combination of Styrofoam and plastic, clearly alien made. The top seems to glimmer, sparkling gently. Even the colorless floors have a slight glean to them, reflecting light from its surface.
