Powerful, page 6
‘Then wear it I shall,’ I reassure him.
After fumbling for the door – an action typically associated with when his eyes linger over me – I hurry out onto the alleyway.
Sun dapples my face, freckling my nose with warmth as I hurry down Loot. I find the Fort thankfully untouched, seeing that to the untrained eye it is, in fact, a pile of garbage. I’m reminded of my decision to redecorate for Pae when she returns and add the task to my mental list of chores.
Lifting one of the many rugs, I find clothing buried beneath, belonging to the bundle I’d thrown into the alley during my attempted robbery. After meeting Mak, I came back to properly collect and dust off my work before ensuring every scrap of fabric was hidden beneath the many layers of the Fort.
Once I’ve gathered the bundle of clothing in my arms, I set off towards the corner I’ve neglected for nearly two weeks now. But after tonight, I will no longer be fed for free or cozied up beneath the cover of his sheets – not that I wouldn’t want that to continue. But Mak has made it very clear that I shouldn’t be seeing him after our mission. Though, I have yet to find a good reason as to why.
He makes me happy, for whatever absurdly odd reason. He’s not exactly a ray of sunshine, but perhaps something equivalent to moonlight. Mysterious and unnerving. Equally as beautiful, yet, soft enough to stare at.
With thoughts of Mak consuming whatever rationality I had left, I hurry down the bustling street. I’m nearly at my corner now and have yet to drop a single item of clothing. This is something I hope will become a regular occurrence. With that goal in mind, I hug the mass of fabric tighter as I hurry towards the mouth of my usual alley.
Most merchants have carts to sell from. I have other methods.
Years ago, Pae and I fastened a long wire across the opening of this alley, and I am shocked to find the rusty nails still holding. While balancing the bundle of clothing in my arms, I begin draping them across the line to display my handiwork. It makes for a makeshift sort of banner, colorful enough to draw attention.
Once each piece is arranged to my liking, I plop down beneath the display and fight the urge to pick at my nails in boredom. Deciding to spend my time wisely, I begin fiddling with the bits of leftover leather from Mak’s uniform.
The display of his knife collection comes to mind as I run my thumb over the smooth material. He has no way to carry them on him without fear of being stabbed by protruding blades.
That’s when an idea begins to form. Patterns and measurements are suddenly swirling behind my closed eyelids, aligning into a tangible design. I begin tearing fabric and pinning corners, watching my idea come to life.
That’s when my stomach grumbles at me, the sound a reminder of the little money I have. And with that in mind, I smile brightly at each person who passes, as if that is enough to persuade them to buy something.
And just when I’m starting to think my attempts are scaring customers away, a man strolls towards me.
I stand, drape my project over the wire, and greet him with what I hope is a slightly less desperate smile. I watch him grow closer, watch fuzzy features familiarize with every step.
I know this man. His is one of the faces I see when shutting my eyes before bed.
This is one of the men that followed me.
‘Hello, pretty,’ he croons, closing the distance between us. ‘You’re even nicer to look at in the daytime.’
My eyes shift nervously, glancing at the passing people. With what may be a false sense of security, I attempt to keep things civil. Professional despite my discomfort.
‘Good morning, sir.’ His responding smirk is unsettling. ‘Is there anything in particular you’re looking for? Perhaps there is a missus you are shopping for? Because I have this beautiful blue top that—’
‘I’d like to see it on you,’ he cuts in, voice raspy and blue eyes burning. ‘Well, off of you, actually.’
I take a step back, feeling the grimy wall suddenly against my shoulders. My voice quivers, but I force the words out. ‘I think you should leave now.’
My eyes linger on his blossoming black eye as he runs a hand through oily brown hair. His smile only grows more crazed. ‘Oh, no, I’m not letting you out of my sight again, pretty.’
My lips part, allowing words to stumble out. ‘Please, I—’
‘Did I not take care of you properly the first time?’
That dry voice cuts through my own, full of challenge. My eyes lift to the looming figure now suddenly behind the man closing in on me.
Mak looks relaxed, bored even, as he waits expectantly with arms crossed over a broad chest. Most of his ebony hair is tied back with a strap, though several pieces fall around his face, blowing in the soft breeze. That strand of silver peeks out at me, glinting with familiarity and comfort.
Tears well at the mere sight of him.
The man whips round, eyes widening. ‘Shit.’
I’m not exactly sure how it happened, seeing that I chose quite the inopportune moment to blink. But the man’s face is suddenly shoved against the grimy wall beside me while the length of Mak’s arm presses against the back of his neck.
‘You are a pathetically slow learner,’ Mak says dryly. ‘I figured one black eye would be enough to get my point across. But it seems you’d like a matching one.’
‘I-I didn’t recognize her, I swear!’ The man’s voice is muffled against the brick.
Mak leans in, his voice a murmur. ‘We both know why that’s a lie.’
And then he’s grabbing the man by the collar to roughly turn him round, shoving his back against the wall. He sputters, forcing Mak to speak over him. ‘Dena, I think you should do the honors.’
‘W-What?’ I croak from where I’m gawking beside him.
‘It will be good practice.’ He says this simply, as though I have any idea of what he’s suggesting. ‘I would have let you punch me if it came to it, but this is a far more appealing option.’
‘You… You want me to punch him?’ I shake my head in protest. ‘No, you go ahead. I’m good.’
‘Dena.’
‘Really, I’ll leave this one up to you,’ I assure with an unconvincing smile. ‘This is more your thing.’
With a sigh, he reaches out a hand to close round my arm, dragging me towards him against my will. ‘Come on. This is part of your training.’
He squares my shoulders, positioning me for a punch. ‘Mak, I —’
‘Think of what him and his friends tried to do.’ His voice is a murmur. ‘Think of what he will continue to try with other women in the slums.’
I take a steadying breath, letting his words sink in. But it’s what he says next that has my fist flying towards the man’s face.
‘Think of what he would try to do to Pae.’
The man sputters, spitting blood from his mouth. Pain shoots down my arm, feeling as though my knuckles have been dipped in fire. My shout is strained. ‘Plagues!’
He raises his eyebrows at my exclamation. ‘Come on, tell me how you really feel.’
Hugging my hand, I glance around before quietly proclaiming what I’d bitten back. ‘Shit! That hurt like… like hell!’
I smile timidly despite the pain, feeling proud of my profanity. And when Mak musters the slightest smile, I know he feels the same. ‘Good form, hun. Maybe you have learned something.’ Then he turns to the cowering figure pinned against the wall. ‘Don’t let me ever see you again.’
He’s gone in an instant, sprinting down the street and shoving bodies aside. Shaking out my aching hand, I watch Mak track the man’s movements until he’s disappeared into the crowd. ‘Th-Thank you,’ I whisper before letting my head fall limply against his chest.
His arms hesitate before encircling me, and I don’t waste a second before doing the same. When I finally release him from my crushing hug, I clear my throat, earning his attention for my quiet question. ‘What did you do that night you went looking for those men?’
He brushes stray strands of hair from his face. ‘I found them.’
I lean in. ‘And after that?’
He looks at me blankly. ‘I thought I ensured that they would never come within your vicinity again. Clearly, I failed.’
I blink about a dozen times before finally finding my voice. ‘Why did you think he was lying about not recognizing me? I mean, it was dark that one night and—’
‘He was lying, Adena.’ His voice cuts through my own. ‘Just believe that.’
I open my mouth to spew several more questions when he suddenly steps away. ‘How about a sticky bun to celebrate your first assault?’
I smack his arm lightly. ‘And I don’t plan on ever doing it again. My hand hurts. And I kind of need that to sew.’ After a quick moment of contemplation, I add, ‘But I will never turn down a sticky bun.’
His lips twitch. ‘Oh, I know.’
I watch him vanish onto the street before allowing myself to slump against the wall. My heart still pounds against my chest, and I squeeze my eyes shut as if that will slow it.
A firm tap on my shoulder interrupts my deep breathing.
It’s an Imperial my eyes open to, smelling of starch and frowning with indifference. I startle at the sight and stagger backwards into the wall. The man looks unfazed by this, only opening his mouth to recite the words he’s been given.
‘I am here to escort you to the castle.’
The stolen sticky bun flashes before my eyes, and right when I’m sure that I’ll be imprisoned for my crime, he says, ‘You have been summoned as a seamstress on behalf of a Purging Trials contestant.’
‘Pae,’ I whisper before he pushes on despite the drop of my jaw.
‘Yes, for Paedyn Gray.’ He looks very displeased that this is how he is spending his morning. ‘She is waiting for you in the coach.’
CHAPTER 9 Adena
He looks to be guarding the sticky bun with his life.
I weave between bodies, forcing my way towards him. He’s wrapped his arms around my treat, protecting the precious cargo from several flying elbows.
‘Mak!’ My shout is swallowed up in the commotion, but I force my voice louder. ‘Mak!’
When his head whips in my direction, I wave my hands in the air, jumping high enough to catch his attention. At the sight of me, I swear he smiles.
He jerks his head towards a nearby alley – a silent order to follow. I stumble behind him, pushing through the crowd until I’m able to suck in the open air of the alleyway.
‘What’s going on?’ He examines me closely. ‘Is everything okay?’
My lips split into a smile, my voice a squeal. ‘Everything is more than okay! She’s here. She’s here and she’s taking me with her!’
‘Slow down.’ He steps towards me, placing a hand on my shoulder. ‘Who’s here?’
‘Pae!’ Words tumble from my mouth. ‘An Imperial told me that I’m being sent to the palace to become her seamstress for the Trial’s balls! Isn’t that amazing? I’ll get to sew her dresses and—’
‘When?’
The flat tone of his voice makes me falter. ‘Um, now, actually. But I told the Imperial that I had to say goodbye, so I’ve been trying to find you before I have to get back to him.’
‘But,’ his voice is alarmingly lethal, ‘we have our mission tonight. We have a plan. A plan for both of us to sneak into the castle.’
I shake my head, hoping a smile will lighten the mood. ‘Mak, your uniform is done. You are free to go to the castle whenever you—’
‘No, it will be much riskier without you. I need your power there with me,’ he mumbles, more to himself.
I shift on my feet. ‘Look, I can see why you would be nervous to go alone. Why don’t you just write Hera a note, and I can make sure it gets to—’
‘You don’t understand!’ he shouts, shoving a hand through his disheveled hair. ‘I need to be there! We were meant to go together so I could ensure you’d be in my range, but now I’ll have no idea where you are…’
He trails off, murmuring more things I don’t understand. ‘Mak.’ He shakes his head at the mention of his name. ‘I… I don’t understand. What are you talking about?’
I reach out a hand, hoping to run it comfortingly down his arm. But he steps back, shoving space between us. ‘I need to get her out of there! Out of this kingdom! And if you’re too deep within the castle, I won’t be able to wield your power,’ he rambles. ‘Or worse, I’ll run into the prince who will sense exactly what I am.’
‘Wield my power?’ I echo quietly.
‘Yes, Adena, wield your power,’ he breathes. ‘Because that is what I do. What I am.’ He steps towards me, forcing me back until my shoulders hit the wall. ‘And now it will be even harder to save her.’
My mind reels, running over every bit of information given to us about the Elites. It’s public knowledge that Kai Azer is the only recorded Wielder in all of Ilya. Some believe it is because no one has ever possessed such power, while others speculate that the king has ensured his son is the most powerful Elite in the kingdom by killing off any other threat.
And I think I may be staring at one. May have been staring at one for weeks.
Confusion clogs my throat, forcing me to swallow. ‘You’re not a Phaser.’
He laughs, the sound strained and bitter. ‘No, honey. I’m not. And Hera is going to die in these Trials if I can’t get her out.’
I shake my head, fighting the tears starting to sting my eyes. ‘Get her out? You mean, run away with her?’ He opens his mouth, but anger is already spitting out of mine. ‘You were going to leave me! You were going to get Hera and flee the kingdom!’ I suck in a quivering breath. ‘You were going to die when they caught you.’
‘I was bound to die anyway,’ he breathes. ‘It was only a matter of time before someone found out what I am. And there can only be one Wielder in the kingdom.’
My vision clouds with unshed tears. ‘You lied to me. You used me.’
He shakes his head, urging me to understand. ‘Hera is all I have left—’
‘You had me!’ I choke. ‘You had me, and I would have kept your secret. You have no idea what I’m willing to do for the people I care about. But you lied.’ I stumble towards the street, wiping furiously at my damp cheeks. ‘At least I had the decency to say goodbye.’
I shake out of Mak’s grasp, hearing the faint shout of my name as I disappear into the current of people.
CHAPTER 10 Makoto
I watch her climb into the coach, reliving the moment I watched Hera do the same.
When the door swings shut, she’s sealed from sight, likely smiling with her friend as though she wasn’t just wiping tears from her face. Tears that I am to blame for.
I used to wonder what it would take to break her. How long it would be before that happiness of hers was dulled like the rest of us. And now I wish I had never found out.
Because I did this to her.
I turn away when the coach begins rumbling down the road, stealing her away from me. Loot is overflowing with gawking bystanders, all smiles and waves for their contestant who stopped by for a visit.
Pushing carelessly through the crowd, I feel the weight of every surrounding ability, each of them threatening to smother me. It’s the first time in days that I’ve allowed myself to acknowledge the burden of it all, the sheer suffocation of power.
If only she knew what I would give to be like her, be what I lied about. Because the Wielder I am has only ever made me weak. Targeted. Alone.
But all of that was forgotten when I was with her. When I was simply a Phaser in her presence. Now I may never get the privilege of being in her presence again.
Maybe I should have let Father have his way with me. Let him finish what he started the day I earned that gash through my lips. It would have hurt less than lying to Dena through them.
But instead, I ran to Hera – and now I need to do it again. But this time, I’ll be the one saving her.
I shove through the crowd, my mind on the coach that rumbles towards the castle I should be going to tonight. I’ll need to rework my already risky plan, seeing that I won’t have Adena’s power to aid me. Sneaking around unnoticed is no longer an option. Simply posing as an Imperial is the only plan I have left.
I guess I’ll find out just how convincing Adena’s uniform is.
I’m suddenly standing before the door of my shop, shouldering it open with the familiar sound of screeching hinges. The room looks dull, dreary without her light to fill it. Scraps of fabric are all that remain of her, needle and thread my last tether to our time spent together.
I stride slowly around the room, surveying every surface she’s left in shambles. A thin coating of honey sticks to the corner of my work table, marking her usual spot. The padded wall for her practice punches still wears the indents of her knuckles. My eyes snag on the crumbled sheets that once draped over her figure, still smelling of her skin.
I shake my head, astounded by my absurdity. This was never meant to get so out of hand. These feelings were equally unwanted and unpredictable. She was intended to be a means to an end, the first step towards a new life far away from Ilya and the threats lurking within it. I was content to use her if it meant I could smuggle Hera out of these Trials. It was the hope I held on to. Because that was all I had left.
“You had me!”
Her pained voice echoes in my skull, forcing me to relive the bitter words. But that doesn’t make it true. Because I’ll never be able to have her, never be able to bottle her brightness, stow away her smiles. I don’t deserve her – and I’ve known that since the day I saw her with that godawful blue shirt.
I slump onto the edge of my bed, eyes landing on a piece of fabric littering the floor. Bending to pick it up, my thumb brushes over the jumble of loose stitches.
It’s the scrap she forced me to practice on.
But it’s what she’s elegantly stitched up at the top that has a smile tugging at my scar.
