by D. S. Murphy
“Just before she died, my mother told me I was adopted; that my real mother was executed, and that my real father was an elite.”
“But that’s impossible,” Beatrice said, leaning forward. “The elite can’t breed.”
“Apparently not,” I said. “Curate Marcus, he said it was because of my grandfather, John Patten. He stole something from the king – an antidote to the elixir. They think he did experiments on his own daughter, my mother, and that’s why she was able to get pregnant; and that’s why the king can’t compulse me.”
The silence lengthened, and I could tell the others were wary. I’d just confessed to a band of rebels that I was part elite. I was the enemy.
The moment was broken when Camina stirred, sitting up, her pale hair sticking to her warm face. Her fingers grasped for a weapon, before finding the large holes in her shredded shirt and checking her wounds carefully.
“What happened,” she groaned. “Where are we?”
“Don’t worry, we’re safe,” Jasmine said. “Outside the citadel.”
“What have you done?” Her eyes widened, taking in the rocky sanctuary. She rose to her knees, her legs shaking. “We’re escaped rebels now. We were raised to serve the elite. Loyalty, honor, courage. If I hadn’t been chosen, I would have applied to become a soldier or one of the king’s guard. This, this life, I don’t know how to do this.”
“You were injured,” I said. “We saved you.”
“Are you serious?” She spat, glancing around at the cracked cement and creeping vines. “And now what, we live underground like rats, hiding from elite and slagpaw forever?”
“You’re free now. You can choose your own path,” Beatrice said. “Like the rest of us.” Creases formed around her eyes as she smiled, handing Camina a bowl of thin broth.
“I didn’t choose this,” she muttered, turning away and withdrawing into the shadows, away from the fire.
Despite my exhaustion, I couldn’t sleep. The stillness of the cave was broken by slow dripping water and a leathery rustling above that I suspected were bat wings. At any moment the king’s troops could slip into the darkness and slit our throats. And yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about Damien.
Even after he thought I’d betrayed him, he still helped us escape. Did he think by letting me go, he’d be killing his own father? Probably not. At the trials, I almost tried, but I couldn’t risk hitting Jamie or Loralie. Damien couldn’t read my mind. I never had time to explain myself after getting arrested in Algrave. And now I’d run off with rebels. He probably thought I’d manipulated him from the start.
My wide eyes searched the darkness. By the glowing embers of the fire I could make out faded graffiti on the cracked walls.
Vampires suck, wrote one in faded green paint, so old I could barely read it. I didn’t know if it was a joke or a warning.
Death to Elites, read another, in scratchy writing that took up most of the wall. This was probably a rebel holdout, used since the race wars a century ago. When humans and elite had nearly destroyed each other, until King Richard saved them from the brink of extinction. This was the history I knew, at least.
The history I’d been told. The very idea of killing elites sent a shiver down my spine; it was more than a sacrilege, it was a death sentence. Undermine the kingdom and the royal order, and we’d devolve back into decades of war, starvation, sickness and pain. Everyone knew this, and yet the rebels risked everything, trying to change the system. What had I gotten us into?
I hoped Damien would be okay, that King Richard wouldn’t hurt his own son, but I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. In a few decades, he’d probably forget about me, like he had my grandfather.
In the meantime, I was all alone. I didn’t know what I was doing, and I didn’t know what came next. I wished Trevor was here, that I could talk with him. I sat up suddenly. Trevor was right outside. Would he stay a slagpaw forever? I remembered the scratchiness when I’d breathed too much poisonous ash; and coughing up dark phlegm. Without the elixir, I’d have died – or, perhaps, have changed, like Trevor. The elixir countered the effects of toxic poisoning. My heart pounded in my throat and I sat up suddenly. Was it possible Trevor was still in there, that the process could be reversed?
I glanced at my wrist, and glared at the bare skin where the bracelet used to be. I had no idea how much elixir was still in my system, but there had to be some. I wasn’t badly injured in the trials, which meant the unused elixir would stay in my blood longer, until I burned it up with activity.
I tiptoed back out of the cave, careful not to disturb any of Beatrice’s traps, until I opened the door to the ruined lair and stepped outside into the cool night air. The flakes were light tonight, and I could see the patch of light behind the clouds that I knew to be the moon. I’d only seen it once, in a blood memory.
It reminded me of something else; something I’d seen when I kissed Damien at the gates and tasted his blood. A buried trunk, an unmarked grave. My eyes widened as I realized it wasn’t an accident. Damien had pushed that memory towards me; he must have bitten his own lip so he could pass me the information. It was a clue, a place to start looking.
But first, I needed Trevor. He wasn’t at the entrance where I’d left him. I felt exposed, looking out over the horizon. I could see the glowing towers of the royal palace, like jagged crystals against the dark mountains behind it. The citadel of lights. Coming from Algrave, it had always seemed like magic, but I knew now it was science and electricity.
I heard a low rumble over my shoulder and whirled around. My pulse spiked as I saw the slagpaw above me, a dark silhouette against the sky, on a boulder above the crumbling ruins. Its lip curled up in a snarl, displaying a long row of gleaming white teeth.
“Trevor?” I asked cautiously. The beast jumped through the air and I ducked. It landed behind me and padded forward, its hair bristling.
He sniffed the air and his red eyes burned in the darkness, like twin coals. His claws clicked on the ground as he stalked forward, with a guttural growl that seemed to pierce through me.
“Don’t eat me,” I said. “I think, I think I can still help you. If you drink enough elixir. I hope. Nod if you understand.”
What if it was too late, what if the Trevor I knew was already gone?
Tears welled up in my eyes at the thought, but I had to try anyway. I took the jagged shard of broken glass I’d grabbed in the tunnels and pierced my wrist, feeling the warm blood spill down my fingertips. Then I held them up away from my body.
The beast’s eyes grew round with surprise, and he whimpered.
“Do it,” I said, leaning forward. A gust of wind brushed past my dress, freeing my dark hair. It rippled in the moonlight. My white leather jacket, now shredded and torn, and chiffon pink dress, stood out like a rose against the barren landscape. I shivered, suddenly cold, as I cupped my palms into a bowl to pool the blood.
The dark shadow of the slagpaw hovered over me at the edge of the cliff, hesitated a moment, then flicked out its rough tongue, licking my palms and wrists clean.
2
I woke up against something hard, and every part of me ached. I felt the ridges of the rock below me pressing awkwardly into my spine; I’d fallen asleep in the mouth of the ruins, just underneath the overhang of the jagged cliff face.
I’d slept outside, without covering. I sat up and gasped for breath, clutching at my throat, which is when I noticed the naked man beside me.
Trev. His muscles were pale and rigid, but his skin was warm to the touch. I wrapped my arms around him and felt his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest.
“You’re back,” I said softly.
He blinked his eyes open, and looked at me through his long eyelashes. The ones I’d always been jealous of.
“Emily,” he breathed my name, cupping my hand with his large palms. “I had the weirdest dream.”
I laughed, brushing away a tear as he sat up.
Th
en his eyes widened and he covered himself up.
“Wait,” he said. “Why am I naked. Did we—?”
“No!” I said, shoving him with my shoulder.
“Hey, I’m not complaining. I’ve been dreaming for years of waking up next to you naked. I just thought it’d be in a bed, in a house, or something. Where are we anyway?”
“An old structure, somewhere,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “I don’t really know. Yesterday was kind of a blur.” I was high on elixir for most of the day, I realized. It gave me a strange sense of focus; like I remembered the smallest details but none of the context.
“Why are you wearing a dress?” he asked. “And is that makeup?”
“Yesterday was the trials,” I said, rubbing a hand across my face, wiping off a dash of dark eyeshadow and purple glitter.
“Did you win?” he smirked.
“Not exactly,” I said, frowning. Technically, I wasn’t sure how the trials worked. They were always broadcast live to all the compounds, and they wanted the chosen to look fierce and prove themselves loyal and worthy of their elite lords.
I had grabbed the golden trophy first, if only to use it as a weapon against Jessica, and with my foot, not my hand. Though that was before I’d refused to kill Trevor and revealed myself to the king. I wondered what kind of spin he was putting on my escape.
“We should go meet the others,” I said, looking across the valley at the lightening sky. In the daytime, I could barely see the citadel, but I knew where to look and could just make out the shining tips of the highest towers, pointing into the clouds like knives.
In other portions of the surrounding horizon, I made out what might have been black smoke, though it was hard to tell against the gray clouds and flurry of white ash that obscured the view.
“Here,” I said, taking off my jacket. “Maybe put this on.”
“Somehow I don’t think it’s going to fit,” he said, eyeing the garment.
“Cover whatever you can,” I said, gesturing vaguely. He held it in front of him and quirked his eyebrow. He tied the arms around his waist, which barely covered his crotch area and left his butt exposed.
“After you,” he said, gesturing towards the crooked entrance. I smiled and went in first. Without the lamp, it was difficult to see my way forward. I heard Trev stumble and curse a few times as we ducked through the crevices towards the secret hideout. Then I heard the sound of a gun being cocked and froze.
“Who’s there?” a voice called.
“It’s me,” I said, “Emily. And Trev.”
Someone rekindled the fire, and a flashlight shone in our eyes, then lingered on Trev’s nearly naked body.
“Well, hello there,” I heard Jazmine say.
“I’ll be damned,” Frank said, wiping the sleep out of his eyes.
He clasped Trevor in a tight hug. Beatrice kissed him on the cheek, and he nodded towards Luke, who was still leaning against the wall of the cave.
“So, we’re all friends then are we?” I said. But I was glad to see how they greeted him. I couldn’t understand how Trevor, who’d grown up like me and barely left Algrave, could be this close to strangers I’d never met.
“Sorry I wasn’t around to make introductions,” Trevor said. Frank found an extra pair of boxers in his bag, and a black T-shirt. After Trevor was at least partially dressed, we ate a cold breakfast – the remains of some dried meat and nuts, washed down with bitter root tea.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked.
“We should get to my supplies by noon,” Beatrice said. “Until then we keep low and quiet. With any luck the trick at the falls will keep them looking in the wrong direction.”
“Can someone tell me what exactly happened yesterday?” Trevor asked. “And why my ass hurts so much?”
“I might have shot you a few times,” I said. “What do you remember?”
“We were in Algrave then—we got attacked. Soldiers, and elite guards. They moved so quickly. We had elixir, but there were too many. Oh shit, your mom! Em I’m so sorry.” His face twisted into an expression of pain and I squeezed his hand.
“What happened after you were caught?” Frank prodded.
“They took us back to the citadel,” Trevor continued. “Hooked us up to some kind of machine, forcing us to breathe ash. I thought I was dying. I could feel my organs failing, changing. My teeth, my fingers. The hair. Then they let us out. I remember, the air, the smells, the noise. I remember,” he said, his eyes widening. “It’s not clear, just – weapons, smoke, people trying to hurt me, pain, chaos. I lashed out. I tasted blood. Oh my god, I think I killed someone.”
“That would be me,” Camina growled. “Takes more than a slagpaw to take me down.”
“It wasn’t him,” I said, turning to Trevor. “It was the other slagpaw. And no matter what you did, it wasn’t your fault. You weren’t yourself.”
“I smelled something calming, something familiar, and then I saw you. I remembered you. But how did you know it was me?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I did, and here we are.”
“So we ran away together after all,” Trevor smirked, with far too much satisfaction in his eyes.
“That’s a stretch,” I said.
“I’ll take it.”
Yesterday I’d had way too much elixir, more than I’d ever had – more than should be possible. It made me so strong, but now that it was gone my muscles were on fire. Other than that, and feeling gross in my pageant clothes, I felt fine. The marks on my wrist where I’d cut them were almost healed, but not quite. I guess my body had run out of elixir. And I felt lightheaded when I stood up, and weak after only a couple hours walking. I had to stop, short of breath. And my skin itched, though it was hard to tell with the sweat on my neck or ash on my bare skin. We covered our mouths with scraps of fabric, and took turns using the more functional gas masks we’d found in the cave, so we didn’t breathe in too much toxin.
Even so, hiking through the open landscape, for miles and miles, soon had me gasping for air. There was always not quite enough oxygen in the atmosphere.
We left the rocky base of the mountain and trekked through thick woods for hours, getting scratched by thorny brambles until we came to a small cabin. One wall was missing entirely, and moss and roots had grown up through the floorboards. The remains of a small kitchen and fireplace were tucked into one corner, near the wire frame of a bed. A small room to the back was covered in ash. The roof had rotted away completely and I could see branches through the hole in the ceiling.
“Some place you’ve got here,” Jazmine muttered.
“It’s too exposed for a real settlement,” Beatrice said, “but scavengers mostly leave it alone, if they can even find it in the woods.”
She stood on the bedframe and lifted a moldy wooden panel in the ceiling, pulling out a large satchel with supplies.
“It’s not much,” she said, handing us a parcel of clothes wrapped in plastic bags. “A change of clothes, a few weapons, and food for a couple days. There should be a few drops of elixir in the pocket.”
Trevor had spent most of the day in boxers, so he pulled on a pair of jeans, a threadbare blue sweater, and pushed his dark hair out of his eyes.
Camina, Jazmine and I were all mostly still in our bloodstained costumes from the trials – meant more for display than practicality, and definitely unsuited for our current journey.
“I would kill for a shower right now,” Jazmine grunted, pulling on a sweatshirt over her dark, matted hair.
“It’ll have to wait. Bounty hunters and the king’s guard will be out combing the woods, we won’t be safe till we get to Havoc.”
“Havoc?” Jazmine asked.
“Headquarters of the resistance,” Luke grinned. “The last bastion of free-range humans.”
“Here, put these on,” Beatrice said, holding out thin paper masks. “It’s better than nothing, you’ve already been out in the ash too long.
”
I shut the door for a little privacy, stripped out of the pink and white dress, which was stained with dark blood, and put on a thick wool skirt that came down to my ankles. The rough fabric sent shivers down my spine. I felt like I was too hot and too cold at once, but it was clean, and dry, and didn’t make me sick to my stomach. When I turned around, the door creaked open.
“Here,” Trevor said, handing me a glass vial, with a couple drops of elixir still in it. “The others, we decided, this should be yours.”
“Camina needs it more,” I said.
“Camina isn’t the one who opened her wrists last night. Seriously, that was stupid, and risky.”
“You’re welcome,” I said.
He grinned, and mouthed thank you. I tucked the elixir away, though my body ached for it. I’d gotten too used to my daily dosage, and after yesterday’s brutal events, and the bloodletting, I was running on empty. After hesitating another moment, I popped the cork and let one drop fall on the tip of my finger, before rubbing it into my gums and under my tongue.
I leaned against the wall, waiting for the elixir to work itself through my system. When I came out of the bedroom, the pain had faded to a dull headache, and I was almost myself again.
There was just enough gas in the stove to heat up a few cans of soup and have a hot meal with the last of our bread, then we hit the road again. None of us were satisfied with the meager lunch, so I kept an eye out for game while we hiked through the woods.
Somehow I’d managed to keep my bow when we escaped the citadel, but didn’t have any arrows for it. Jazmine and Camina split the sword-like metal legs of the mechanical spiders. They’d wrapped scraps of fabric around the ends to make rough handles. And the rebels had rifles and pistols, but firing them out in the open would alert predators to our location.
We fell into a rhythm, and for a few hours I concentrated only on trying to move through the overgrown landscape without stepping on any dry twigs. We passed craggy trees with bark like stone, covered in patches of bright green moss, and occasionally an abandoned house or car, half buried between the trees. The ash muted our movements, but in the desolate wilderness, every sound seemed like it carried.
