Still, was he a fool to trust her? Because no matter how he felt about her, she was still the King’s daughter. Perhaps her kindness was a trap?
He finished his porridge, far more slowly than he would’ve liked, resisting the urge to lick the bowl clean. There’d be no food now until nightfall when the soup would be served. If those watery bowls of liquid could be called soup.
As he stood to return his bowl, he let his glance sweep the room as subtly as he could manage. Soon there’d be a new Whisperer to replace Slight Limp who’d been taken to the dungeon when a coughing fit had taken hold of him during breakfast a few days earlier. It was doubtful he’d ever return. A trip to the dungeon was usually a one-way ticket.
His gaze caught on an unfamiliar head bent forward at the table. A female, he thought by the shape of her shoulders, although he hadn’t been able to look for long enough to tell. With their shapeless gray robes and hoods, gender was sometimes hard to pick immediately.
He took his bowl to the cleaning room and handed it to the Whisperers assigned to the dishes, grateful today as he was every day, that this hadn’t been his assignment. Washing one thousand bowls and spoons without making a sound must be one of the most difficult jobs in the palace.
He wove his way slowly between the tables, waiting for the right moment to shift his gaze to the new Whisperer, hoping this one would last longer than the previous few had. More often than not, they’d only last a few days, before they broke. If they lasted longer than that, then usually they were here to stay. For this reason, he waited a week until he named them. It was even more heart-breaking to lose a comrade when they had a name.
A guard stood at each of the doors, observing them eat. The Conductor was at the rear of the room, tapping his sword on the floor as a warning, each time he saw or heard something he didn’t like. It was the only noise in the room. Occasionally the sword would be used without the warning.
Chancing a glance, Jeremiah lifted his head, disappointed to see the new Whisperer had her head turned away. His glance was enough to make him sure it was a female. It was also enough to unsettle him. Her shape wasn’t the shape of a stranger at all. There was something hauntingly familiar about her. Was she an old Whisperer returned from the dungeon? Was Wide Nostrils back at last?
His head snapped back down at the sound of the tapping of the sword. The Conductor had noticed his gaze. He must be more careful. There was plenty of time to study this new Whisperer later.
A spoon clattered to the floor on the other side of the room and a clear gasp rang out. The room froze, even more silent than the silence that’d come before it, as each Whisperer held their breath. Please, let the Conductor show mercy. The clumsy Whisperer held still, half standing with a bowl clutched in his hand. The shaking of the bowl gave away the fear of the man who held it. It was Nine Fingers. Jeremiah had dreaded this day he knew would come, having witnessed his clumsiness before, when it’d gone unnoticed by the Conductor.
The other Whisperers continued to eat in silence, outwardly denying what they knew was about to happen. A noise like that wouldn’t go unpunished.
Jeremiah took the opportunity to turn his head to see the new female Whisperer, knowing this was his only chance. The Conductor had bigger crimes to punish. He scanned the tables, searching for her, only to find her looking straight back at him.
Their eyes locked and held. Jeremiah’s knees weakened, as his porridge threatened to make another appearance. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t possibly be.
No!
Silent tears spilled from his eyes and he wiped them away, helpless to stop them. He shook his head, his feet glued to the carpet.
The new Whisperer mouthed the words I’m okay.
But she wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay. And it would never be okay again.
As the sound of Nine Fingers being dragged away rang out across the dining hall, Jeremiah was unable to stop a name from escaping his lips. It was a name he never wanted to say in here. The name of a person he never wanted to see sitting before him like this.
“Micah!” he gasped, walking slowly from the room so he could find somewhere private where he could weep.
MICAH
THE BEFORE
“Come back, Jeremi-ah!” Micah’s voice broke with the pain of her words. She was sitting on the branch of a tree, looking toward the arena, as she swung her short legs in front of her.
The arena looked so innocent on top of Mount Allegro. If Micah didn’t know what it was, she might even think this long, rectangular building was beautiful with its oval dome made from gold. Although she knew that to take one step on Mount Allegro, would be certain to land her in the King’s dungeon. She could see the King’s palace looming behind the arena, its stone walls a stark contrast to the golden roof of the arena, as it stretched its way into the sky. It had to be five levels high at least, unlike the homes in the Valley of the Blessed, every one of which was a single level high. Even the wealthiest people in the valley couldn’t afford to construct anything that required something as elaborate as stairs.
It was hard to think that somewhere on top of that mountain was her brother. He belonged in the valley, not up in the clouds.
“Come back, Jeremiah!” Micah cried out again. He’d been gone for almost three moons now and she missed him in a way that made her heart feel like it had a piece missing.
“He’s not coming back.” She looked down to see Tallis standing at the base of the tree, staring up at her. She liked Tallis. He was tall and wiry and reminded her of a stork. She told him that once and he’d stood on one leg and flapped his arms and squawked.
“Tallis!” She wasn’t expecting to see him here. He’d been behaving as if he were an old man ever since Jeremiah left. What happened wasn’t his fault. Well, no more than it was hers. She’d also encouraged Jeremiah to go and get his orange that day.
“Surprise!” he said, using her favorite word, except the way he said it, it sounded more like a death sentence than the magical word she’d always believed it to be.
Micah patted the space next to her on the branch and motioned for him to join her.
“I can’t climb up there.” He shook his head.
“Can so,” she said, wondering what the problem was.
Realizing he wasn’t going to join her, she swung herself out of the tree and landed at Tallis’s feet.
“I want him to come back,” she said, sitting down on the grass, pleased that Tallis hadn’t become such an old man that he couldn’t sit beside her.
“He’s never coming back.” He wrapped his arm around her and she snuggled closer, pretending for a moment that he was Jeremiah.
“He has to come back! If he knew what’s happened since he left, he’d be running home, straight down that mountain.”
“They’d kill him before he reached the bottom. You know that. And besides, he doesn’t know. He never will. Face it, Micah. He’s gone.”
She wrenched her body away from him at these words. She didn’t want to hear it, despite knowing it was true. She would never see her brother again.
Or her father, whose body was still fresh in his grave. She wasn’t sure of it—nobody could be—but she strongly suspected it’d been the medicine that’d killed him. The Conductor had promised the King would feed them for the rest of their lives. Except he never said how long he was going to let them live. Da had been doing all right at first, improving every day with food in his belly, until he’d been given the medicine. That was what had killed him. There could be no other explanation.
And now Ma wasn’t looking well either. People said it was just the baby getting closer, but Micah didn’t believe them. It was more than that. Babies didn’t make your skin turn gray or your hair fall out. She was being poisoned just like Da was. Micah had begged her to stop taking the vitamins the palace was supplying her with, but Ma wouldn’t listen. She’d even accused Micah of being jealous of the gift Jeremiah’s sacrifice had provided.
“I think the vitamins
are making my mother’s head go crazy,” she said, feeling all her fight slip from her body.
“What vitamins?” Tallis plucked a blade of grass from the ground and twirled it between his fingers.
“The King gives her vitamins for the baby. They’re killing her. Just like they killed my father.”
“Tip them out then!” Tallis threw the grass aside and looked at her, his eyes wide and his mouth dropping open.
“Tried that.” Micah shrugged. “She just goes and gets more.”
“Then tip those out too.”
She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. She was hoping he’d tell her she was being foolish. Instead, he believed her every word. She didn’t want to be right about this.
“Can I live with you if—”
“Micah! Don’t. She’ll be okay,” he soothed.
“The food’s getting less, you know. Each week, things are missing. Soon there’ll be nothing. And we don’t even have Jeremiah to help us now.”
“You’ve got me.” Tallis wrapped his arm around her again.
“You have your own family to worry about.” She reached for Jeremiah’s lucky walnut shell that she’d worn around her neck since the day he’d left. She didn’t even take it off to sleep. So far it hadn’t brought her any luck, but it did make her feel close to Jeremiah. It was the only small part of him she had left, if you didn’t count the memories she was holding onto.
“We’ll figure something out.” Tallis gave her shoulder a squeeze.
“Like what?”
“I dunno. Like something.”
She looked at her brother’s best friend. He was kind. He was fun—well, he used to be—although he wasn’t being very smart. If something was going to be figured out, it was going to have to be by her. She was going to get Jeremiah out of the palace. Somehow.
“What do you think he’s doing right at this moment?” she asked.
“Eating a roast chicken.” Tallis patted his stomach. “With potatoes and gravy and juicy green peas.”
Micah blinked back some tears. This didn’t seem likely, however, she hoped it was true. Jeremiah loved to eat and they’d never had enough food to fill his belly.
“What do you think that test was all about?” she asked. “Why did they care what he saw in those paintings? Tell me again what they looked like.”
“Just dots with a shape inside. Nothing special.”
“I don’t get it. Jeremiah said he couldn’t see them, except for the first one.”
“Shh.” He put his finger to his lips. “He also said he wasn’t supposed to tell us that. Be careful who you say that to. We don’t want him getting into any trouble.”
“Any more than he’s already in.”
“We don’t know that.”
She did. She could feel it. As bad as things were for them, she was certain her brother was suffering even more.
“It just doesn’t make sense to me,” she said. “Why would they want people who can’t see the shapes? Wouldn’t they want the people who can see them?”
Tallis shrugged. “Who knows. Have you ever known King Virtus to do anything that makes sense? One day, when Princess Rose becomes Queen, things will change.”
That was the hope the people clung to. The Princess didn’t go out in public, however, a few villagers who’d been to the palace had claimed to have seen her. The general consensus was that she had a kind face. Micah wasn’t sure about this. Jeremiah had a kind face too and look how far that’d gotten him.
“I hate the King.” Micah picked up a stone and threw it toward Mount Allegro. “He stole my brother and my father. And now he’s trying to steal my mother and the baby. He’s not going to get me, though. He’s not.”
“Maybe I’ll get you instead.” Tallis bared his teeth and held up his hands like claws. Thrilled to see a glimpse of the old Tallis return, Micah scrambled to her feet and squealed.
Tallis roared and Micah took off in the direction of the valley, her laughter slowing down her steps, until Tallis caught her and scooped her into the air, lifting her onto his shoulders and galloping forward.
“Faster, donkey, faster,” she cried, pretending to whip him.
“I’m not a donkey! I’m a scary beast!”
She laughed louder this time, turning her troubles to a small moment of joy and keeping it warm inside. That was what she missed most about Jeremiah. Laughing with him. She could still hear his laugh inside her ears.
“Where to, Princess Micah?” asked Tallis, when they reached the edge of town.
“Princesses don’t ride on the shoulders of scary beasts.” Micah grabbed at Tallis’s hair to steady herself.
“Ouch! Then I’m a dragon. Princesses always ride on the backs of dragons.”
“Fly me home, dragon! Back to my palace at once!”
She laughed, glad she wasn’t a princess for real. The Princess and her sisters must have a dreadful life being locked inside the palace. She’d bet the Princess didn’t know how to do cartwheels or juggle five stones in the air. She just sat in the palace all day brushing her hair and asking her maid to do up her frilly dress. How boring!
“Hey Tallis,” she said, wriggling free from his shoulders, to walk beside him. “Do you think Jeremiah’s met Princess Rose?”
“I don’t know.” The expression on his face changed and the old man in him returned, as his shoulders hunched over. “You ask strange questions sometimes.”
“Because I think she’ll fall in love with him and let him go.”
“Oh, Micah. Princesses don’t fall in love with people like Jeremiah.”
“Why not? He’s handsome. Better looking than her fat, ugly father.” She pulled a face to show her disgust.
“Micah! Hush! Don’t be saying these things in the street. I told you before, you never know who can hear you.” He bent down to get eye level with her. “Jeremiah gave up lots of things to keep you safe. Don’t you go getting yourself into any trouble. You have to live two lives now. One for him and one for you.”
Micah wondered exactly how she was going to do that. The one life she lived now already seemed pretty full up.
“Bye, Dragon,” she said, when they reached her front door.
“Bye, Princess.”
She curtsied, holding out her dress as she dipped and noticing how dirty her fingernails were. Jeremiah would’ve told her to clean them. Maybe it was time to take that bath she’d been avoiding all week.
She went inside and closed the door.
“I’m hooooome.” She hopped on her left leg, deciding maybe she’d give that a go for the rest of the day, instead of walking, to see how many hops it would take for her leg to get tired.
“Micah!” The tone of her mother’s voice made her forget instantly about hopping. Or walking. She ran through their small house, looking for her.
She stopped when she found her, grinding to a halt so fast she got a splinter in her bare foot.
Her mother was lying on the floor of the kitchen with blood soaking through her clothes and pooling around her.
“Ma!” she gasped.
“Micah, you’re here.” She smiled at Micah and reached out her hand.
Micah wanted to go to her, hold her hand and make everything okay, except she couldn’t get her feet to move forward. She was eleven years old. Too young to be a mother to her own mother. She still needed her mother for herself.
“Please.” Ma’s voice was croaky. It seemed a miracle she was actually alive. Micah had no idea that much blood could fit inside a person.
Forcing herself to step forward, she crouched next to her mother and took her hand, watching blood mingle with dirt as their fingers entwined.
“You were right,” Ma said. “The vitamins…”
“It’s okay,” she said, knowing it wasn’t. There was nothing okay about this.
“You must save Jeremiah.” Her mother’s words seemed as much of a struggle to get out as they were for Micah to hear.
“I’m so afraid.�
� Now her own words were a whisper. Admitting she was scared was difficult. People with lives like theirs didn’t speak of being afraid. They kept themselves brave. It was the only way to face the challenges of every moment of every day.
“You can do it,” her mother said, her words now barely audible. “You can do anything. You’re the most amazing girl in the whole wide world.”
“Tallis called me a princess.” She wasn’t sure why she said this. It just seemed right to fill the air with words.
“You’re not a princess. You’re so much better than a princess. You’re Micah. You’re my girl.” Her mother’s squeeze of her hand was so weak it was barely there, yet she felt it. Just as she felt the love pouring between their hearts.
“I’ll get the doctor,” said Micah, knowing it was far too late for that. “And I’ll get you a blanket. Your teeth are chattering.”
She left her mother’s side and ran to her bed, knowing there was a risk she wouldn’t make it back to her in time. For a selfish moment, she wondered if that would be so bad. She was afraid to be there at the moment she slipped away.
She’d been there when her father had closed his eyes and that image had haunted her dreams every night. Losing her mother was even worse. Not just because this was the woman who’d carried her in her womb, but because the moment her heart stopped beating, then so would that of the baby. Her brother or sister who would never have a chance. Did any of them ever really have a chance? There had to be a better way to live than this. Maybe being a princess wouldn’t be so bad after all.
The Kingdoms of Evernow Box Set Page 4
