Mark of Betrayal

Page 30

Mike opened his mouth and Falcon stood straight, but Blade disappeared up the stairs again before they could object to his…friendliness.
“Okay, on that note.” Morgaine pulled my hand a little. “Let’s go see Eileen.”
“Emily?” I heard Mike say as Morg and I started up the stairs.
“Still here,” she trilled in a chirpy voice.
I wanted to stay and hear what she was going to say about David. Assuming she was going to say anything about him. Whatever it was, though, Falcon was in the ‘circle of trust’, but not Blade. I wondered why. Maybe certain members of the Private Guard were to be permanently kept in Mushroom Land. In fact, that dark, imaginary place seemed to own too many of us right now—and I would have to put David in there, too, to keep him safe from the truth about my feelings for his dead brother.
“Ara?” Morgaine startled me from my thoughts. “Can you experience any one emotion for long enough to decide how you’re feeling? You're exhausting me.”
“Sorry, Morg. Too much going on in here.” I tapped my head.
“What else is new?”
“Sorry,” I said again.
“So? What was that thing in there—what were you thinking when Mike said you had to meet Eileen?”
“Oh.” I bit my lip. “Um. Nothing, really. I just kind of thought to myself how easy it’d be if I just shot a bolt of electricity at Drake’s head and ended this thing.”
“Whoa.” Her eyes widened. “Moody today. Are you okay?”
“Not really. I'm tired. Like, spiritually tired. I actually just want to go hom—”
“Shh. Don't say it.” She grabbed my arm, her fingers making small impressions in my flesh. “I know, okay, but you shouldn’t say that here. These people need you, Princess, more than you need to live a normal life.”
“I know, Morg.” I nodded. “Why do you think I'm still here?”
* * *
The short puff of each breath I took made my lungs tight. I’d been running so long I couldn't remember how to find my way out. My tiny feet pattered, one over the other, in the short-clipped grass, while my fingertips trailed along the sharp, rain-dotted edges of the brush. It smelled like pine and fresh water, even though the maze was planted of shrub, and though the sun was bright outside these walls, the shadows behind them were thick, making it dark down here.
I looked behind me again, feeling him there, feeling his presence, hearing his breath through the gaps in the leaves. He was close; he’d find me soon, and despite this being a web of changing walls, I knew there was nowhere to hide. There never was. Running was my only option.
“Where are you?” his voice jeered in a creeping, ringing tone. “I'm coming to find you, Princess.”
I squatted down and tucked my knees to my chest, hugging them tight, wishing I could make my breaths quiet, like his.
“Where are you?” he called again; I turned my head a little, seeing a bulk figure stop beyond the wall right beside me—filling out the green gaps in the brush with his darkness.
My whole body became stiff, hoping he wouldn’t reach through the hedge and grab me.
“Lili?” He moved on again, and I relaxed. “Lili?”
Above me, a crow cawed loudly, its silky black wings reflecting the glare of the sun, and under its evil call, the voice of the man trailed away; I was safe. For now.
I dared to peek, my lips falling softly apart when I saw his cloak floating around a distant corner; his feet were gone, his ghostly figure looming, purposeful. He knew where he was going, and this was all a game—just a game, where he let me think I’d escaped.
“Lili.” His tone peaked on the end. “My little Lili, where are you?”
Little Lili? I looked down at my small hands; the nails were squared, the skin pink, almost transparent with youth. Lili? Who was Lili?
“Ah-hu!” Deep blue eyes set on my face, the ghostly fiend jumping out at me; I squealed, taking off in a run, but he grabbed my arm. “I got you, Little Lili. You can never hide from me. I always hear you.” He released me and I scrambled back on my heels, stopping in the arms of the shrub wall. “Now, time to run again—and this time,” he said, “don't make it so easy to find you—”
My eyes snapped open to Morgaine’s face; she pulled her hand back from my shoulder, her mouth moving with words I couldn’t hear. Inside my chest, a thumping pulse owned my breath, and the feel of that man’s hand on my arm remained.
As my soul floated gently back down to earth, my tired gaze drifted from Eileen, still pacing, going on with her lecture, to the dome roof above my bed. And the shocking blue eyes of the man in my dream smiled back at me. Drake. The man in the glass, having a tea party with Lilith—Little Lili—was Drake.
I took a few deep breaths and composed myself.
“You okay?” Morg whispered.
“I had a dream.”
“When?”
“Now.” I nodded to myself on the chair. “Just then.”
“Amara, you were awake this whole time. You were talking to me.”
I stared forward. “I was?”
She nodded at Eileen when she turned and gave us a glare, her eyes questioning our attention. “Yeah. Don't tell me you've mastered not paying attention—to the point where you can sleep and hold conversations.”
I slinked down in my chair, taking the pressure off my numb butt, and cast a quick glance to the windows, seeing the daylight slip behind the horizon. The smell of bonfire smoke rose up from the forest below and even the sound of the knights’ laughter managed to find its way into my room to remind me of all the fun I was missing out on.
“So, what was your dream about?” Morg asked, leaning closer.
I took a heart-steadying breath and closed my eyes, looking back into the maze and all its darkness. “Drake—coming to get me.”
“Don't worry, Princess.” She took my hand and flipped it over, showing the long crease in my palm, around my thumb. “You have a long life-line. He’s not going to get you.”
“It’s not death or capture I’m afraid of, Morg.”
“Then what is it?”
I looked out the window again, frowning. “The hunt.”
Loud music and laughter filled the warm, summer air—distant but homely in the leafy rims of the enchanted forest. I traipsed down the dark trail toward it, with my fluffy friend-slash-guard-dog beside me, feeling safer once I spotted the orange glow of firelight.
“What do you reckon, Petey—is that the right spot?”
Petey took off, leaving me behind, charging forward to break apart a group of knights with a spritely bound; they jumped back, laughing and petting his head eagerly.
Falcon frowned at the dog, then looked up—looked around, his wide eyes relaxing as soon as he saw me.
I waved; he nodded casually and went back to his conversation.
“Hey!” Eric stumbled, drunk and loud, toward me. “Kiddo? What took you so long?”
“That woman!” I charged into the glow of the bonfire and stopped right in front of Mike. “She practically gave me a full exposition. I only just broke free. See?” I unravelled the blanket I brought from my bedroom and showed the same skirt and white top I was wearing earlier. “I didn't even have time to change.”
“Wow.” Mike handed me a plastic cup. “You must have been desperate to get out of there.”
My gaze narrowed, watching him sip his drink, his eyes shifting edgily. “Why do I get the sudden feeling you had me kept under deliberate imprisonment?”
“Beats me.” He shrugged, sniffing once before turning and walking toward the group Petey was in.
I looked down at the cup of cola in my hand—at the bubbles popping, then let out a long breath. The bonfire crackled in front of me, its rising embers floating on the heat to the tops of the trees, like orange fairies, while the gentle glow spread warmth out over the clearing, giving a kind of border to the intimate little gathering.
After a few more breaths, the burning timber, with its homely smell of winter smoke, simmered my irritation down another notch. I settled myself against the trunk of a tree a few meters away from the fire and watched the knights sit in companionship around the blaze, talking and joking with a kind energy you’d see on people celebrating.
“Hi.” A man fell heavily beside me, spilling his drink near my shoe.
I looked up from the sloppy mess on the bark-covered floor and into a pair of black, smiling eyes. “Hey, Blade.”
“Tough day?” he asked.
“You have no idea. That woman was a nightmare.”
“Well, it’s over now.” He reached across and, with the tips of his fingers, untangled a small piece of bonfire ash from my hair.
“Thanks.” I smiled then blew it away.
“So, My Queen? Who will you be sinking your teeth into first tonight?”
The key to nightmares I’d locked up turned inside me, opening the door; I looked away.
“Hey, what’s up?” He gently turned my face back.
“It’s just…whenever I think of human blood, it reminds me of…of…”
“Of when you were tortured?”
I nodded, pressing my lips in. “You know about that, huh?”
He nodded. “It was one of our first lessons.”
“I…I feel trapped, you know. When I taste it, it makes me feel like I'm laying flat on my back again, with someone doing things to me I don't want them to do. And I can't make it stop.”
He wrapped his arm over my shoulder. “It’s okay. If you don't want to do it tonight, I’ll talk to Mike for you. Hey?” He laughed then. “Maybe I can get you drunk, and you can pretend to pass out.”
“Thanks, Blade.” The bile in my throat flooded away with a small laugh, but came back as I watched Mike for a moment. “I don't think I’ll be doing any drinking, though.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I'm under age, for one.”
“And two?” Blade pressed.
“Two?” Two is that the last time I drank alcohol, I lost my mother and baby brother. “Two is I don’t drink.”
“Smart girl.” He nodded and sipped his. “So, where did you get your name—it’s really…”
“Odd?” I grinned.
“Well, I was going to say pretty, but since you said it first.” He nodded. “Yeah, odd.”
“Um.” I shuffled, wriggling the dirt and bark off my upper thigh, sticking where my skirt rose up a little. “Amara was my grandmother’s name.”
“What about the ‘Rose’ part?” he asked, and his English accent sounded smoother than usual; I smiled to myself.
“Well, that was supposedly because my skin was like the softness of a rose petal.”
“Really?” He lifted his hand, his touch hovering above my arm. “May I?”
I let the blanket fall away and closed my eyes as Blade stroked his fingertip down my skin. “Yeah. Beautiful. Wow. Who’d have thought?”
I leaned my elbows over my knees and sat forward; the distant warmth of the firelight glowed against my bare arms. “So what’s your real name then?”
“That’s kind of the point of a nickname, Ara—so you don't have to use your real name.” He ran his hands over his hair, sitting back against the tree trunk, a wide grin lighting up his eyes.
“But I want to know. I'm curious.”
“Why?”
“I know all the other knights’ names.”
Blade looked around, checking the darkness of the dry, leafy forest, then looked at the fire again. “It’s like a scar, my name. It’s a part of my past I don't really want to wear.”
“Why?”
He shrunk a little. “I’ve done some bad things. Before I jumped onto the right side of the fence, I…well, let’s just say I had a rough start. I don't really wish to wear my father’s name.”
“So, it’s your surname you don't like?”
He shrugged.
“Well, what’s your first name?”
He hesitated. “Thomas.”
“Thomas,” I said to myself. “Nice. So, can I call you Tom?”
He breathed out through his smile and shook his head.
“What?” I shrugged. “I was serious.”
“I know. That’s why I didn’t answer you.” He picked up a stick and started snapping it into pieces. “Look, Ara, I like you—but we’re not even supposed to be talking like this.” Blade looked over at Mike. “If he thinks for one second that I'm crossing the line between guard and . . .” He shrugged, one corner of his lip lifting into his cheek. “He’ll kick me outta the Core.”
I nodded. “Okay. Blade, it is.”
He groaned, leaning back slightly. “No, call me Tom—but only in private. Okay?”
A smile forced itself across my face. “Okay, Tom-but-only-in-private.”
“Aw, you’re a laugh, aren't ya?” He chuckled.
“What’s happenin’ guys?” Falcon fell beside me.
“We’re just talking,” I said casually.
“Right.” He looked at Tom. “Lookin’ pretty cosy over here.”
“Relax, man. We’re just talking,” Blade said, then sighed and stood up, heading for the fire.
“Talking? That’s all, huh?” Falcon asked me.