Corrupt

Chapter 12

"Yep. Okay. Better. Let's see if we can get your reflexes working, shall we?"

It's the next day. I am covered in scratches and bruises. My "combat training" has leaned more towards me being utterly annihilated by Nyx. My stomach growls. I have no idea what the time is, but it's early. The sun has barely risen. Not that it makes much difference when we're all hiding in the shadows.

"Block!" 

I am snapped out of my daydreams as my shoulder snaps audibly. Nyx has thrown a fist at my face.

"Ow," I groan. "Can we have a break?" 

"No such thing around here. If that was an opponent, and they had a knife, you'd be dead. Watch." 

Before I can even balance myself, Nyx is nimbly throwing her blows at me, shouting as she does so. 

"That's a kill-" 

Chest. 

"Another kill-" 

Neck.

"You're dead three times over-"

Wrist. 

"You won't even be able to crawl to Hell anymore-"

Stomach.

"That's your ear gone-"

She tweaks my ear lightly, but I get the point. I wouldn't survive a second if she - or any of them - turned against me. 

"Okay, okay, I get it," I stumble backwards.

"The least you can do is pay attention, alright? Even if you fight like a drunk slug."

"My hair gets in my eyes, then-"

"That's your problem. Just pay. Attention."

I nod bleakly, head spinning, her frowning face blurring in and out of focus.

"Lynette."

Nyx and I spin around. 

It's Daeva.

"I need you," they tell me. "Now." 

"But she hasn't-" Nyx begins to protest, but cuts off as Daeva raises a gloved hand.

"Now."

Though irritation still flames in her eyes, Nyx nods, defeated, and I brush my hair out of my face, dashing after Daeva, who has already started to walk off. 

"What is it?" I stammer.

"There's something you must see." They reply simply.

"I meant to ask, actually: is there anything else I can eat? I'm starving. I know we ate... Something yesterday..." I try not to gag at the thought. "...But I-"

Without warning, I am thrown to the ground, my weak legs buckling beneath me. I look up, dazed, to meet Daeva Korren's furious glare.

"No. There's not. A man nearly died to get you that fucking bread. I haven't eaten more than a slice of bread for three days. There were some little kids in this gang, originally. They died because we couldn't get them more than a morsel to share. Okay? In case you hadn't noticed, we don't have your fancy pantries here, Little Miss Sunshine. You eat more in a day than we do in our fucking lives. You'll never know what real starving is like. Never. Understand?"

"I- I'm so sorry," I murmur. "I didn't realise-"

"No, you didn't," they sigh. "Get up. Come on. I'll show you what it's really like around here." 

Staggering to my feet, I hide my trembling hands behind my back. Before, I'd only seen Daeva, gruff gang member with a sarcastic sense of humour and a perpetually perfect suit.

Now I've met Daeva Korren, fearsome leader of the rebels, murderer, kidnapper, merciless ruler of the slums. 

And they're terrifying.

We emerge back onto the open roads again. I haven't been out here since I first met Daeva; since Jesper and Mav were killed. I barely had time to look around before. Now I'm glad I didn't.

"Oh," I whisper.

It's a haunting, uncanny image. This must've been a village once. Old community buildings have been boarded up, vandalised, robbed. There are huge messages, written in what I pray isn't blood: 'It's Not Real'; 'Kill Carcaseau'; 'Revolt', repeated time and time again, trailing off in a clumsy splatter. 

My head reels.

Slumped figures line the edges of the grimy, barren streets. Murdered. Brutally. Pools of dried blood surround them, crows perched near, pecking at the exposed bone. 

I struggle not to vomit.

How can this happen? 

"See?" Daeva says calmly from next to me. Their voice is full of anger, but there is an edge of despair, of defeat, that scares me more. "Can you see why they hate you so much?"

"Yes," I breathe, a tear escaping my eyes. This is the opposite of Carcaseau. And still, the maids, the castle folk, the citizens, live in ignorance. "I had no idea."

"And look." 

They hand me a torn piece of paper. I recoil slightly. My own face stares back at me.

"He's searching for you. There's a reward and everything." 

"What do I do?" 

"We wait a little longer. Otherwise we're giving in to him."

He's searching for you.

Once, this would have meant everything. Now I don't know how I feel.

"I can't look at this anymore," I say, turning around, swallowing dust and terror. Daeva makes no move to follow me. 

I drag myself fowards, then break into a run, unable to control myself. Images of the town flash before my eyes like vengeful ghosts. I don't know where I'm going. I don't care where I'm going, as long as it's away. My grubby curls dance across my vision. The bright pink seems so ridiculous now. There's no colour left in this place. Even my dress has faded. 

I find myself stopping by the makeshift bathroom, the gentle sound of the water reassuring me slightly, grounding me. Hiding my face in my hands, I suppress my sobs. I'd be humiliated for anyone to find me here: the spoilt, naive little castle girl, crying at the state of the streets. Gradually, I sink down to the ground. Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain in my thigh, and jump back up, throwing my arms down. 

It's a shard of broken metal, embedded in the ground, sharp as a knife. 

My hair blows in the wind, shielding my view. 

I have a sudden crazy idea. 

Bending to the ground, I dig the metal out of the floor, hands still tremoring. 

I run my fingertips through my long curls. 

And then I hack them off.

The pink strands float downwards like the downy feathers of a baby bird.

I slash at my hair again, channelling my anger into the cool blade. 

Once I'm done, I run an uncertain hand over my head. It's strange. I can see properly now. 

I smile.

I feel a little better now. 

Liberated.