Chapter Six
Verna sits motionless on the sidewalk in front of her home. Lines of dried tears distort her pleasant face into a sort of macabre art. Someone touches Verna’s shoulder, and she looks up into the eyes of a young redhead. Her face is sympathetic. Verna thought her tear wells had run dry, but she proves herself wrong as more spill. She tries to staunch them, wiping the backs of her hands against her eyes, but it doesn’t work, so instead she continues to hold her hands there, hiding. The rays of light from the sunrise peek through the spaces, blinding her still open eyes.
“Verna Crowne . . .” the stranger coos. Warm, smooth fingers pull gently on hers, and as she stands, they caress her face like when comforting a child. “Come with me.”
“Where?” Verna mumbles.
“The Six want to speak with you.”
Verna’s eyes jolt wide. “What?” Her body warms, and the air turns moist around her. The tips of her fingers prickle as if with static electricity, then she hears a great whooshing noise.
Having never teleported before, the act disorientates her. She glances around to get her bearings. She stands in a small meadow, trees line the perimeter. Verna closes her eyes and breathes deeply into her fragile lungs. The hairs on the back of her neck rise as Verna senses others. Figures appear all around her, speaking in low voices. Verna twirls in fear, but the young redheaded woman smiles and grabs her arm, holding her still. A yellow shield bubbles around them.
“I am Nira Henrik,” the redhead proclaims, pointing at herself. “And this,” she gestures to the yellow bubble encompassing them, “is a cloaking spell.”
Another woman appears wearing a cloak black as shadow, so it looks as though her head is floating without a body. A sheer veil covers the lower half of her face. A halo of intricate gold pieces drapes her forehead. Rich brown eyes squint at Verna inquisitively. Brands, tiny and delicate, form her hairline. “Farah Abad,” she says, bowing her head slightly.
A third woman materializes, this one short and plump. Her tanned face is as round as the moon. She smiles as Farah rolls her eyes. “I’m Channery Saelee, and it is a pleasure to meet you.”
Turning to see the last two that finish the circle, Verna sharply inhales. These two she knows. How could she not? They had been the faces of one side of a revolution.
“I am Jarred Roth, and this is my wife, Florence Hilt.” Jarred stands average in height, but with broad shoulders and a gentle face. Green eyes glow. Lines wear his face from too many years of war and loss. As if Time itself holds him accountable for what has happened.
When Verna glances to Florence, she finds she can’t take her eyes from her. Chains wrap around Florence’s branded hands and bare feet. Her wild eyes rake over Verna, dancing between the colors of blue and black, while blonde hair turns dark, too. Tears prick at Verna’s eyes and a sob breaks at the back of her throat. Verna sees the truth linger in her morose, knowing eyes. This is the woman who gave Lilah to Verna. Her recognition of both Jarred and Florence does not go unnoticed, both Farah and Channery give her a sharp look.
“Verna Crowne.” Farah says, her veil twinkling in the long light. “Charlotte Crowne, your daughter, went missing during the war, didn’t she? What did she tell you before she died?”
Verna stares into Farah’s eyes and swallows. Her features are sharp and the intricate brands on her forehead exaggerates them. She glances to Florence; the woman’s stare sends a shiver down Verna’s spine.
Farah takes a step into the circle towards Verna, her black cloak silent on the grass. “Well?”
Gathering her sweaty hands in front of her, Verna says, “She . . .”
“It’s all right,” Jarred says, dimples flashing as he smiles. For a moment, she forgets who he is and feels greatly reassured by his words.
“She worked for Alessandra Hilt,” Verna stutters without thinking. If Verna trusts what Charlotte told her, then—
“That woman . . .” a man says, appearing from the darkness and entering the enchanted space without trouble. His white hair contradicts the clean edges of his face. Ren bows with a flourish, then says, “Why? To what end?” His silver eyes hold Verna under their intense examination. She shakes her head.
“Ah, Ren, so nice of you to join us,” Nira says, smiling.
“Verna, we are at your mercy. Alessandra has remained dormant for quite some time. Charlotte is the only lead we have. If Alessandra is planning something, then this could be our one chance to put an end to her crimes.” Jarred looks to Verna, distress resting on his brows.
“Okay,” Verna mumbles. She relays the details of Charlotte’s first attack before telling them of the one that ended her life. “Charlotte said Alessandra plans on attacking the Ludi.”
The Six look to one another, then, slowly, their eyes rest on Florence.
“Florence, why would Alessandra want to return to the Ludi?” Farah says, her voice like venom.
Florence’s chains rattle and sway. Her head shakes in violent twists, while black swallows her hair and eyes.
“Take the spell off, Ren,” Nira says, her words coming out as if she’d thought about the command for some time.
Ren gives Nira a look of apprehension, his silver eyes hardening. She nods. Swiveling to Florence, Ren’s hands lift to her jaw, and he lowers his head, chanting quietly. When the reversal spell is complete, a growl gushes from the back of Florence’s throat.
Florence breathes heavily for a moment, until her complexion returns to a ghostly pale. “Perhaps she is lacking entertainment?”
“Florence—” Jarred touches her shoulder.
“Humph. Very helpful,” Farah says.
Florence hits Verna with the chain around her hands, swinging Verna inside the bundle, as if to embrace her. Their skin touches, and a shiver rakes over Verna’s body. The contact holds for several moments while the five others jump around shouting.
“Be calm,” Florence says in Verna’s mind.
“Okay, okay.”
“Where is Lilah?”
“She’s at Waterstone Academy. Florence, she’s participating in the Ludi.”
“Waterstone? She’s at Waterstone?” she says, her voice shadowed by sorrow. “Marcus . . . I’ll warn him, order him to help her.”
Verna spies glowing incantations in her peripheral vision, every color of the rainbow.
“Florence, let go of her!” Farah threatens.
Florence gives Verna a snug squeeze, then lifts her arms above her head, allowing Verna to leave her grasp. Thank you.
Jarred places his hands to Florence’s temples as the others hold her steady.
“No!” Florence pleads, though now Verna understands it’s all an act. If Florence is going to these lengths, then Verna figures she is withholding the fact that Lilah is alive a secret. Why Florence and Jarred are operating without the help of the others, Verna can’t fathom.
White, filmy smoke clouds Florence’s head, and her body goes limp. Jarred conjures again and her body floats above the ground. He wrings his hands, then turns to Verna. “Are you okay?”
“Fine, fine,” she says.
The Six comes together around Verna, fixing the circle and shield that broke when Florence grabbed her.
Nira, the sprite redheaded woman with nimble limbs, smiles. “Well, this has been a night that you will never forget, won’t it, Verna? Thank you for telling us what you know. Now, we can prepare to stop her.”
Verna’s head aches, and her chest feels as if she’s been punched, but she tries her best to smile. The past couple of days have been tumultuous and beyond comprehension. When she looks back to the circle, it’s anger she finds rising in her gut. Unable to control the red emotion crawling into her heart, Verna yells, “This is all your fault! If you had been stronger, you would have killed her when you had the chance!” Hot tears run down her cheeks. Her throat burns.
“You’re right,” Jarred says, rueful. “We won’t hesitate now.”
“Verna, did Charlotte say why Aless
andra wants to attack the Ludi?” Nira asks gently.
Verna glances to Florence, her hair ebbing out with the quiet wind, then to Nira. “This year’s Ludi is larger than it has been in some time. It would pain me to see so many killed.”
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with the child Alessandra was rumored to have given birth to years ago, would it?” Farah says.
Verna freezes, lying never one of her strengths.
Farah edges closer, the gold pieces on her forehead swaying from the movement. “You are a Guardian. I would assume that you remember all the children brought to you, even ones from years ago?” The aura around her hands illuminates to a purple hue.
“I—of course, yes, I would remember them.” Verna raises her hands and takes a step back.
“Stop this!” Jarred steps in between Farah and Verna. “The rumor is a lie. Alessandra couldn’t get pregnant.”
Verna looks to him; his eyes twinkle a cool green gaze. She feels queasy. “I’d like to go home now.”
Nira pulls Verna toward her with a gentle tug. “Ah. There is no going home.”
The train to the Ludi moves quickly but not fast enough for the scars of the war to go unseen. Miles of burned earth stretches beyond her window. Lilah has been on this train many times on her coming and goings from the academies, but the view never fails to give her a gripping chill. The land sings a dirge over the charred remains that have turned to dust and rot. Looking out her window, she winces and closes her eyes, unable to imagine the screams that must have filled the air the day that this town and its people burned.
Hours pass and Lilah drifts into sleep. When she wakes, the sun is hanging low in the sky and light shines through the trees on the side of the train cabin. A couple minutes are filled with green sights outside the window, until the train curves out of the thin forest and into an open expanse. More black earth greets her eyes, except in one spot. A green sprout shoots up from the middle of the field. Tiny branches reach for the blue sky. She smiles. It seems as though Nature can rebalance any chaos. Turning grim, she wonders what the land would look like without anyone inhabiting it. How beautiful it would be without a single scar laid by their hands.
Alicia sleeps opposite her. Somehow, they managed to snag a cabin with just the two of them. Alicia sleeps noisily, speaking every so often words that Lilah can’t understand. She knows she ought to try and catch up on her sleep, but she’s restless. One of the Hilt sisters is my mother? Lilah watches Alicia’s chest rising and falling. What about the things clearly rifled with on her desk and Marcus’s strange behavior? She shakes the thoughts away. She doesn’t want to know what it all means.
With Alicia asleep, Lilah takes a moment to mill about outside of their cabin. The Nox and Lux keep separate, though Lilah always lends an eye to the back of the box door to catch a glimpse of the other side. Of course, she’s seen plenty of Lux during her visits with Verna, but she always finds them curious. Their arms are clean of brands, since the tenebrae punishment is only a Nox tradition, and there was something in their eyes, a kind twinkling of light no Nox Lilah knows possess.
Moving down the tight hall, she finds it strange to walk in the opposite direction of the train as it propels infinity forward, as if it is a small act of rebellion, an impossible one that lands her nowhere. Somehow, the act reassures her. The fact that she tries to move against the tide before giving in to its pull.
She finds a food booth filled with sweat treats, and her stomach growls hungrily at the sight. Dinner has already been served, sent to each cabin hours ago. It was a thick broth and some bread, decent enough for the journey and fairly typical food for the train. But now, looking at the little treats, she can’t resist.
“How much for the little cake?” she says, eyeing the slice with a wolfish grin.
“A single piece,” the vendor says, a man of about thirty, wearing a striped suit and matching hat. The outfit is comical, and on her first ride as a child, she remembers laughing at the vendors as she and Verna passed them. Now, though, she considers them to be strangely perfect for their task. Striped like the walls of the train that imprisons him, he nearly melts into the fabric, becoming a faceless creature beyond Lilah’s imagination. She feels an odd kind of camaraderie to the man. She, too, knows what it is like to appear so outlandish and yet go unseen.
“Great, I’ll take a slice.” She hands the man a piece—the smallest round coin of their currency—and in return is handed a plate with the cake and a fork. On the way back to her cabin, she swipes some of the icing off the side and licks it off her finger, savoring the taste.
“You didn’t get me some?” Alicia says, her voice crestfallen. Lilah simply shakes her head and takes another bite of the cake. The thought hadn’t even crossed her mind.
Time moves quickly as the smudges of towns and countryside pass, slowly becoming incoherent. Dusk approaches, and Lilah succumbs to sleep once more as the sun kisses the horizon. She falls asleep knowing tomorrow will be a new adventure. By tonight, she’ll be in another town, but unlike the others, she won’t pass through this one.
Lilah moves toward the door where yellow light streams from underneath. A familiar melody floats through the air. The smell of ash wafts into her nostrils. She turns the handle and strides into a house she’s seen before in dreams years ago—a lifetime ago. The yellow light radiates down from the ceiling, blinding Lilah momentarily.
“My darling girl . . .” a voice coos.
Lilah moves toward the voice and the woman, her thoughts drifting to the book, to the facts. “Mother? That’s who you are, right?” she says, her voice seeped in desperation. The thirst for an answer drowns her. She takes many steps, but does not find the woman. “Mother?” her voice is a whisper, a wish. Lilah reaches her hand out, but touches nothing. She lets her arm fall to her side.
“Ah, this is the answer you seek most?” The voice floats around the room like an echo, a fragment of the real thing.
Lilah breathes a sigh. Closing her eyes, she lies down on the ground of clouds. A warm hand wraps around Lilah’s. She opens her eyes but doesn’t see whom the hand belongs to. She tries to pull her hand from the woman’s grip, but her strength is too immense. Somehow, the woman manages to pull Lilah closer, closer. Lilah recoils from the face that emerges. Her black eyes lock with Lilah’s, and her hair, swaying against the clouds, reflects in Lilah’s horrified gaze.
Lilah gasps awake and stares down at her hands with a shudder.
“What were you dreaming about?” Alicia nudges her friend’s shoulder. “Are you thinking about all the adventures we’re going to have tonight?” Alicia wiggles her shoulders and winks.
Lilah rolls her eyes. “You know, if we were to get caught—”
“You’d die a happy girl with all the fun we’d had?” Alicia laughs. “Come on! It’s the first taste of freedom we’ll get until graduation! Lighten up a bit.”
“I never said I wouldn’t go, I’m just saying we need to be cautious. Students from all over the country are coming, and spectators from across the ocean, too.” If they’re caught, it’ll likely be the end of the Ludi for her and possibly put them in a lot of danger. The hairs on her arms stand on end, and the dream percolates in Lilah’s mind. What does it mean? What does all of it mean?
Alicia fake swoons at Lilah’s words and blinks her eyes in a frantic way. “You mean, I could find a foreign lover?”
Lilah laughs. “You really are incorrigible, you know.”
When the train stops, Lilah finds herself speechless. Shrouded in a thick fog, a city stands in the darkness of night. Stiff from sitting for such a long time, she shakes her legs. She nudges Alicia, who wakes with a startled swing of her arm. Lilah laughs, grabs her bag from the rack above their heads, and heads out of the cabin. The students file out of their respective cabins, following Director Elmer and Instructor Petrovna out onto the platform.
With the rest of the group, Lilah and Alicia wade quietly through the street, taking in the strange bu
ildings. The city itself is old, but the structures have been rebuilt, so that it can house and host the competitors for the Ludi. Banners fly on doors, and graffiti of signa are on street corners. The Lux city resounds with a strange and off-putting sensation. Even the air is light and comforting. She turns to see Alicia staring off in child-like wonderment.
A turn around the corner and the group reaches their destination: a tall and wide gray building. Director Elmer holds the door open while the students walk inside. The internal fixtures are just as intriguing as the rest of the city. The history of each year of the Ludi is spread on one wall, a giant mural of victories and loses. Lilah follows it, surprised when she comes upon several years blacked out.
“That was when darkness spread over the world,” a grave voice says.
Lilah turns to see an older man with a wide-brimmed hat standing before her, his face obscured completely by the darkness, Lilah wonders if something more sinister is hidden beneath the shadow. A pin on his coat shines against his tweed coat.
“Come, child, this way.” He points to a hallway. “Your academy is on the third floor.”
Intrigued with the mural, Lilah hadn’t noticed her academy leaving the lobby. She follows the stranger, who walks with a slight hunch, down the hallway to an elevator.
He points at the wall where an array of buttons alight. “Hit number three and turn right.”
“Thank you,” Lilah doesn’t know the man’s name so she adds, “sir.”
“Thorpe,” he says, “Van Thorpe is the name.”
The clear glass door shuts, and the elevator shoots up two floors. When the doors open, she finds herself in solitude. Turning to the right, she walks down the row of doors, until she spots one that says “Alicia.” She knocks on the door.
Alicia opens with a smirk. “You made it.”
“Thanks for leaving me back there,” Lilah says, crossing her arms.
Premonition Page 8
