Spurned Queen

Chapter 22: Crossing

Lexi

It was moonrise by the time Rowan and I arrived at the veil.

"So, are you ready?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Don't lose your head. Don't focus on the colors. Don't listen to the sounds. Hold your breath. And most importantly, don't let go of my hand."

"What will happen if I do?" he asked fearfully.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But the In-between is a very tricky place. It might dump us anywhere at all. If we're not holding hands, it might separate us and that would be a disaster."

"Okay," he gulped, squaring his shoulders and facing the veil with a brave face. He reeked of fear and uncertainty. But he was pretty curious too. I shrugged. Those were my emotions too on my first time.

I grabbed his hand. "Keep your wits about you," I concluded. "We might have to run, fight, swim, anything. If that is the case, do not get lost in the grandeur of the place."

"I won't," he grouched. "I've been on missions before, you know."

I rolled my eyes.

I formed a small fireball in my palm and tossed it at the veil. It worked. The previously inconspicuous opening between trees shimmered and rippled in recognition, giving the appearance of a thin veil of water.

We jumped.

Immediately, we were sucked into the In-between. Swathes of clouds swirled around our bodies, with flashes of multicolored lightning. I couldn't see anything other than the maelstrom, and the only indication I had of Rowan's presence was the fingers digging into my hand in a vice like grip. I braced my legs.

The In-between spat us out. I landed impressively on my feet while my charge tumbled head over heels. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt before he could roll further on the cobbled ground.

He gasped, or tried to, as I clamped a hand over his mouth as I assessed our surroundings.

We were in a narrow space walled in by tall, quartz walls. It was closed at three sides. Above, the sky was low and grey with rain clouds that were currently beginning to pelt us with drops. I looked down and saw that we stood in a trench, leading me to believe that we were at the back of one of the houses.

The rain fell harder, and water began to gather at our feet.

"Come on," I urged Rowan. He pushed tawny hair out of his face and followed me. We reached the corner of the house and I peeked round it. The alley led out to the wide street. The houses across the road were tall and made of pink-tinged quartz. I smiled.

"We're in the capital city," I whispered to Rowan. "There's someone I know who lives here. He'll help us. Come on."

I didn't make my way to the street, rather continued along the back alleys. "How do you know where we are?" asked Rowan.

"This world is practically color coded," I explained over the rain. "Other cities and villages usually have houses made of granite and painted white. Only the head of a village or the governor of a city can get a quartz house, and it has to be the color of the kingdom. In the capital cities, however, nearly all houses and buildings are built with that kingdom's color of quartz. So when I saw that the houses are built of pink quartz, I knew that this is the capital city of the kingdom named Nuen."

"How many kingdoms are there?"

"Just a few. Seven or eight, I think. Each has its own color."

"The cities are built of quartz?"

"Yep. I told you everything was more glamorous here."

We continued to weave through the back alleys as I didn't trust the open streets much. A lot of bad stuff could happen, such as being stopped by dragoons and asked to show identification. In that case, we would be either shot down or locked up.

I stopped abruptly, causing Rowan to almost crash into me. Around the next corner, an uproar was going on. We peeked carefully, just in time to see seven huge men surrounding a small, cloaked figure. The men wore dragoons' uniform, and their unicorns stood obediently behind them in the street.

"Yield, 605! Don't put up a fight and we'll just forget you escaped," their leader growled.

"Don't come any closer," the cloaked child warned. Her voice was extremely soft even as it was laced with a threat. She couldn't have been even ten years old. Her hood had fallen back, exposing short, spiky brown hair to the rain. The dragoons, mages by the look of it, ignored her.

"I'm not going back," she said, louder, and this time her voice cracked. "I'm not going back there, I'm not crazy," she sobbed.

Rowan tugged my arm. "Typical thing a mad person would say. Let's go, Lexi." But I was transfixed. I felt an urgent pull to this girl. I couldn't look away as Rowan pulled harder. "Come on, we'll get in trouble if we're seen," he hissed in my ear, but I barely heard.

The dragoon stepped forward, and she raised her hands threateningly. "Stay back!" They stopped. "Leave me alone," pleaded the girl. "I just want to be left alone. I don't want to be used for experiments and tests, I hate those needles. I'm not going to hurt anyone, just let me go." As she spoke, one of the mages behind her lunged and tackled her to the ground. She screamed and kicked her feet and writhed in a weak attempt to free herself, but they kept her pinned firmly. Lattis growled aloud. I started forward but Rowan pulled be back. "Are you crazy? They're police! We're aliens!"

The leader laughed. "Oh, you're a far too valuable specimen, 605."

Specimen, snarled Lattis in fury.

The leader produced a syringe of what I assumed to be a sedative. But from the recognition and terror on the girl's face, it had to be far worse. The guard on top of her yelped suddenly and jumped, loosing his hold. The girl snatched her hands away from him and all hell broke loose.

She released a terrible scream. I broke free of Rowan's hold as she raised her hands. Several dragoons screamed. One aimed a streak of flame towards her. I jumped, crashing into her to knock her out of the way. I snatched the fire from the air just before it hit me. I spun it into a glowing yellow ball and hurled it at another one.

That's when the stench hit me. The putrid odour of rot assaulted my senses like a spear, making me cover my nose and double over. I needed to vomit. A quick glance at Rowan showed that he was experiencing the same. Meanwhile, the six remaining men screamed and dropped like flies. One pulled off his boot. Slimy white pus slid out, harboring small chunks of red flesh that used to be the man's foot. I retched violently. The little girl stood still among the chaos, men screaming miserably and hurling at the sight of their own rotting bodies. Her hands were still up, face cold and empty of emotion. She slowly closed her hands into fists. The rot shot up their bodies, causing them to scream and writhe on the ground as the effluvium got impossibly worse.

Soon, they were dead. Needless to say, Rowan and I were on our knees, not far behind.

The girl stood before her work, blinking at the decomposed bodies. She turned and stared at me. As she did, I trembled in what I had not felt for a very, very long time— fear. Fear and awe of this child.

She regarded me for a moment without a word. Then she turned and fled.