Duplicities (Imaginations Book 2) Page 9

  I nodded, not actually certain I had thought that out as quickly as he had. He did think more deviously than I, just naturally. Too many years living with the river folk.

  Michael walked to my father, chatting with him and nodding at me.

  “You know that's bound to be a bad conversation.”

  “You figure?” I glanced at Lyle, smiling even though his face made me sad.

  “Yes. He’s easily negotiating trading you and your virtue for several pieces of gold or whatever base monetary trade they make here in the wilderness. I suppose chickens would be good currency. He could get many chickens for it.” I swatted him, making him laugh. “Do you know what I would I do for a chicken right now?”

  I shoved him lightly. “No, what?”

  He laughed, shaking his head and shutting it down before he could answer. I didn't force the answer. I imagined he felt guilty for having fun. I sort of did.

  I linked my fingers into his. “I know this is probably the wrong choice but it’s the one that feels right in my stomach.”

  He looked down at our fingers and nodded. “Magic.”

  I laughed. Him and magic.

  He lifted our hands and pressed a soft kiss into the back of my hand. He didn't say a single thing after that, but I knew it was his way of telling me he would wait me out. He would wait for the guilt and worry over Bran’s feelings to ease in us both.

  My father motioned for us to come to him and Michael. We walked with our fingers linked still. My father caught them in his gaze but spoke about something completely opposite to handholding, “We’re going to split up. Michael has described the journey to The Lost City for me. He’s going to go with you, Lyle, and Murphy to find the slavers. Now that everyone has lost the reset, we should be doing quite well. They will understand what has happened and the urgency with which we travel. There shouldn’t be any surprises in that area. The slavers will be taking their prizes back to The Undead City. So they won’t be patrolling. It looks like it will take me several days to get to The Lost City. I’ll meet with the king and explain who I am. That should buy us some sort of amnesty.” Again his eyes darted to our hands. Lyle squeezed under the scrutiny instead of letting go. He was exactly that person, one who held on tighter, the harder things got. Not like me at all.

  I nodded but Lyle spoke, “We will be a day and a half from here to The Undead City. We’ll stop at the kingdom on our way. We might be able to salvage some of the supplies.”

  Michael scoffed. “You haven’t ever seen how thorough those bastards are. There won’t even be a bone to pick your teeth with in the kingdom. They’ll have burned it to the ground.”

  Murphy nodded at the sun rising. “We need to be on our way. We all need to sleep somewhere safe tonight. You guys will need to find shelter, in case the weather out here is intense.”

  My father grabbed me, hugging tightly. “Find Greg.”

  I nodded, wanting to cry but I held it back. “Keep Mom safe.”

  “I will.” He kissed my cheek and reached for Lyle’s hand. “I trust you will keep her safe?”

  He nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Murphy slapped Lyle on the back. “She will be safer than anyone else.” His eyes darted to the people sleeping on the ground again and then to my dad. “Mr. Caddie, you need to remember how fragile they are when they just get their memories back. And remember to move fast, faster than you think you can.”

  My father agreed, still obviously not a fan of Murphy’s.

  I climbed back onto the horse, Lyle climbing on behind me and wrapping his arms around me. Murphy and Michael ran for the truck. We headed away from the people silently, not wanting to draw attention to their camp.

  I closed my eyes and let Lyle take the reins. I leaned back into him and pretended we were back at the inn, in the bed we swore to meet at if we ever got lost or separated.

  When we got to the kingdom after a full day’s ride, I gasped. It was exactly as Michael had said it would be, burned to the ground and in ruin. I walked past several dead bodies, grimacing at the smell of the charred flesh. The gates had been destroyed and the grounds muddied in rainwater and blood.

  Lyle gripped to me as I walked, letting him hold my hand tightly. When we got to the place we had changed and cleaned up, I barely recognized the washhouse. It was rubble. Everything was rubble.

  Feet stuck out from the washhouse under rocks and wood that hadn’t burned. I lifted the wood with my boot to ensure it wasn’t either of them. I pulled away from Lyle, running from dead body to dead body, searching for two faces. None of the people we had come to the kingdom with were dead on the ground. They looked to all be soldiers. Clearly the women and children made better slaves than a man who would fight back.

  I walked until I saw a face I knew. I paused, mourning the corpse of Lori, the brawny man who had been first to show us true kindness. He had been a good man and deserved a better fate than this one.

  From across the yard of bodies and broken buildings I saw Lyle watching me. His eyes lowered to the ground in front of him. He looked like he wanted to call me but he didn't. He just stared at the ground. I knew what it was but I shook my head, telling myself there was no way the world was that cruel. We would each lose a brother in one day? No. The world wasn't that terrible of a place, was it?

  My feet led me to him. They walked blindly because dread had taken over everything else. I couldn't even really see, I was so scared. I knew it was Greg the moment Lyle walked to me, his arms out because he wanted to stop me. He wanted to prevent me from seeing it. But I had to. I pushed him, sliding out of his arms and running to the body on the ground. A heaving cry slipped from my lips as I dropped to the cold dead body of my brother. A sword stuck in his side, coated in old black blood. I ripped it from him, tossing it aside. The wound oozed as I pressed down on him as a gagging cry of garbled words slipped from my mouth. I breathed and coughed my words and tears as everything was taken from me.

  I covered him with myself, understanding Lyle’s need to cover Bran with himself, protecting him from death or whatever was coming for him. My eyes dropped to the ring on his left hand. My father and mother had rings that way. Rings that meant they were paired. But this one was much finer. It was ornately carved and silver. His finger was puffy when I pulled it off, but once it was in my hand I closed my fingers around it.

  My head lifted to the sky and my heart burned with pain, true pain. I had learned about loss already but this was something else. This was something I knew would never fix inside of me. The loss of Bran and my brother in one day was too much. Rage built inside of me in my stomach. It roared and burned inside of me.

  I turned, grabbing the sword that had taken my brother from me, the brother who saved me. The brother who had protected me my whole life. I clutched the evil sword, bent forward and pressed a single kiss on the cold, pale cheek of my brother. I got up fast and walked back to the gates. Michael gave me a look. “Sorry, kid. I didn’t see him.”

  I snarled something that resembled words and climbed back on top of the horse. I didn't wait for Lyle, I rode into the woods. I had one vision, one mission.

  Revenge.

  The Undead City

  There was no way to explain the feeling inside of me when I saw it again. The city was no worse for wear even after the fire Lyle had started. Black smoke still billowed into the darkening sky from the disgusting city of dirty poles and thin brick stacks still coated in the black stuff coming out the top.

  I stopped the horse and jumped off. The truck came up on me instantly, each of them jumping down and running toward me. I didn't move, I was terrified.

  “I can honestly say I have never seen anything this terrible in all my life,” Murphy muttered, obviously as disturbed as we had been the first time.

  “The City of the Undead. They burn coal from the old coal mine. The slaves they take work the coal mine. Well, some of them.” Michael shrugged. He was getting used to seeing it.

  “Coal, that’s the weird r
ock that burns like wood, right?”

  Lyle nodded, touching me with the back of his hand.

  The city was a fair size but I remembered the layout. It was spread out like our city, only the buildings weren’t like ours. The lines weren’t squared. Everything was a jumbled mess of shanties, houses, and taller buildings with damage done to them. I could see the filth on the buildings and the landscape.

  “You remember that spot there then, huh?” Michael pointed to the right. “Where the slaves are taken to the auction? People trade for them there.”

  Murphy gave us all a look. “Trading humans still disgusts me more than the superior engineers.”

  Lyle shook his head. “Michael explained it perfectly to us. Everyone here owns something. The man who is the strongest and has the largest group of men who will fight for him owns the coal mine. He trades the coal to people for food, liquor, cloth, or whatever he fancies. The farmers live on the far side, near the riverbanks. They work their farms and trade their food for protection or coal, or whatever they fancy. No one works together without a price. You may not walk up to a tree, pick an apple, and eat it. They will call that stealing and cut your hand off.”

  Michael sighed. “That about sums it up. These are barbaric people. The land isn’t the value here. It’s all about the individual who amasses the largest army. So the slaves are no different than a loaf of bread or an apple. They are a currency. They may be protection, workers, or lovers. Whatever you, who holds the whip, want them to be.” It was the same speech as last time.

  “Let’s get this over with. I want out of here. Now.” Murphy gave us a nod. “What’s the plan?”

  Lyle shook his head. “Not a clue, but I know we need to try to do the same thing as last time: diversion, rescue, burn this hole in the ground to the very rocks it’s built on. We can’t let them recover this time.”

  Murphy gave a grim look. “Me and you handle the diversion and Michael and Gwyn take on the rescue?”

  Lyle paused, giving me a look. I nodded. “That sounds right.”

  Michael sighed, clearly not happy. “Why do I have to be involved?”

  Murphy held a sword on him. “I don't have the issues Lyle has with being a bad man.”

  Michael scoffed at the threat. “Then we should get along fine.” He nodded at me. “Let’s go, kid.” He was not pleased. That much was obvious.

  We ran down the side of the hill as fast as we could, jumping logs and bushes. My legs ached, but I pushed myself onward. When we got close to the city, we slowed and made our way to the right. There was the gate we had come past last time. Again it was guarded but this time it was by four men. We walked past it, still in the woods and watching every angle. We assumed they would be waiting for retaliation.

  I pointed at a building on the edge of town. “Last time I climbed in a window over there.”

  We crept along slowly. The houses and shanties were made to be the wall of the city. There were long poles with sharpened tops filling the gaps between the houses, pointing out at the woods as if they would scare us off. But honestly, who would run into a pole like that?

  The walls of the shanties were made of sharp metal sheets. The only way in was through a window of one of the houses or the gate. I had no desire to ruin our plan with the gate so I snuck to the window of the shanty and lifted myself inside. Michael followed, wrinkling his nose. “This place stinks.”

  And it did. He was right. The smell of the coal-mine town was dirty and metallic but layered in a moldy dank stench. We snuck through the house, pulling on clothes. I wiped my hand along the window and dragged the filth through my hair like last time. Michael winced and did the same, hiding his dark-blond hair. When we were grubby enough I nodded. “Let’s scout the area. I did that last time. We’ll scout and wait and see what they’ve done with the slaves.”

  He shrugged. “It’s your plan. I don't think we should be here.” He glanced out the filthy window and smiled. “It looks like they might be partying, celebrating their success. Maybe they aren’t expecting anything in return, thinking they crippled us.”

  I scoffed. “They did.” I slid the sword into my holster on Michael’s back, just the way one of the people on the streets had it. I linked my arm with his. “We need to keep our eyes down.”

  He nodded, taking a deep breath as I opened the door and walked outside. My boots squished in the muddy street as I stepped out of the house. Michael caught on fast, seeing the way men dragged women rather than walking with them. He dragged me forcefully, earning grins and gleams from the men drinking on the side of the pathway through town.

  A woman chewed the red nut, spitting on the ground in front of me. Michael raised a hand at her but she laughed a toothless grin at him. He grunted and stalked off, dragging me behind him.

  The noise of the muddled words was worse with the drinking everyone was doing. A mug of stinky ale was thrust into my hand. I took a sip but Michael stole it from me instantly, swatting me in the head. I took the abuse. The sound of the stinky city seemed more intense this time. People flooded the streets acting more animated than last time.

  A woman shrieked with laughter as she got a whack on the butt from a large man who dragged her into the house. They tumbled, laughing and screeching.

  Every person we encountered was drunk to the point they were limited in all movements and actions. We couldn't have come at a better time.

  I led Michael in a way that looked like he was leading me to the auction tents. None of the slaves were there. It wasn't like last time at all.

  I walked past it, hoping the diversion wasn't coming soon because I hadn’t found a single slave.

  “The mines,” Michael muttered to me.

  I glanced up at him, earning another swat.

  “The mines. They would want to party with the work still going on.” He led me around town, to the wide entrance I never saw the last time we were here. He pulled me to the edge of the crowd where I could finally see the opening in the earth.

  I stopped, staring at it. I had never seen anything so disturbing in all my life. It was a pit with layers like a fancy cake, going into the ground. People worked the paths along the edges, steering and pushing buckets on wheels and pushing bins. Whips cracked and people screamed. It was like the opposite of the Heaven I had seen in the books with the beliefs of God. It was the Hell that had been described.

  I winced and let Michael drag me along the wide entrance like we were skirting it. When we got to the side of a building he pushed me into the corner like we were kissing passionately. “We need to wait for the diversion, then we run down there, freeing the slaves. You have a better chance of surviving this terrible idea with a weapon. You take the sword from my back the moment we know they’re getting the town’s attention for us. I’ll use my hands and my knife.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  My brother’s kind face and sweet disposition broke my heart. The fact he’d possibly married Amber broke my heart even more. They had fallen in love. They had married and started a life. They had given up on us coming back and moved on to be with each other. I wondered if she would be able to remember she had married him or if he had died before she could retain that. That started a fire in my heart and my belly that I knew I would need. It would fuel my killing of the slavers. I forced myself to see the death of Bran and Greg and combined it with all of the victims the slavers had forced a terrible life on.

  He cocked his head to the side, grinning cruelly. “You know, you sort of suit this dirty look. Brings out the blue in your eyes.”

  I was shivering, not certain if it was anticipation or fear, but I couldn't respond with my usual brand of wit. There wasn't much to joke about to start with. The Last City didn't breed a lot of humor.

  The first boom hit making me jump, almost into Michael’s arms. He started to laugh. “Here we go.” He turned and ran for the mine, dragging me too. He ripped the blade off his back and tossed it at me. When my fingers gripped to the hilt I knew—bad peop
le were about to die a terrible death.

  I didn't need to muster the pain and suffering I had felt. I didn't have to work at killing them. The first man I saw holding a whip got a sliced off arm and a stab wound in the neck. The images of blood and gore floated past my brain but it refused to acknowledge any of it as anything but pure, sweet revenge.

  Michael freed slaves, shouting as loudly as he could that they needed to run for the forest behind the city. People cried, screaming and trying to talk to us but we ran down the path, killing in sync. I stabbed and he tossed. He used his size to throw men from the edges of the pathways. Blood splattered into my mouth as I hacked and stabbed, using the limited training I had received and the magic in my stomach that lied and told me I was invincible.

  The wailing faces of the slaves got lost in a sea of confusion as the booming behind us got louder. People saw us fighting against the slavers and started helping. They grabbed weapons they didn't fully understand and began firing and hacking with us.

  A woman in barely a full outfit shoved a man over the edge of the rocks. She screamed terrible things at him as he fell to his death. Her wild eyes met mine for a moment and I recognized her instantly. I ran to her, wrapping my arms around her filthy and shaking body. It was Mrs. Barker, my school teacher. She dropped to the dirty ground, collapsing in tears and confusion. “I’ve got you.” I held her and cooed like she had done my entire life. She had told on Brooke. She was the reason Brooke was here somewhere, and yet I could not show her the same cruelty she had shown my friend.

  I held her tightly and stroked her head, whispering that I was there and she would be fine. I didn't know how much of it was lies; I didn't care. It all felt worth it, holding her. It stopped feeling fruitless and empty.

  Hands grabbed at us, lifting us and shoving us toward the path. Michael screamed as hundreds of slaves came running up the path. Some lay dead in the dirt, others over the edge of the layers of earth, and some of the ones still living looked lost. They stood perfectly still, confused and frightened. The rest ran at us, making a wave of fear and the possibility of freedom.