Majesty

Chapter 12: Revenge

I swivel my head around trying to get a glimpse of Scoute Starling. She is adjacent to the cliff. Amber is battling a warrior, and suddenly falls to the ground as her opponent slices her legs, whimpering. I rush over as Nin amputates her attacker's arm. "Are you alright?"

She moans and stretches out her legs. "My fishnet tights are ruined. And they were new!"

Sure enough, gashes were made in the fine black material. I sigh and shake my head. Here Amber is, worrying about her clothes, while others just feet away are worrying about their lives. Nin pulls her back to her feet, where she teeters for a second in heels. How does she run in those?

I turn back to Scoute, who's fighting Wolfwind. I hasten to help her, just as Scoute's staff impales her leg. She kicks her off the cliff, Wolfwind's cries echoing off the rocky walls. Drake presses a dagger into my palm. The rubies that are set into its hilt gleam in the sun. In my peripheral vision, I glimpse Natasha hovering a few feet above the soil throwing lightning around her charging, and Rose summoning fire while shouting, predictably, her competitor's secrets. Ro rides Autumn across the burnt field, scattering other minions as she fires on them with a small energy weapon called a phaser or something like that. She taps an arrowhead-and-circle insignia and shouts, "Enterprise! Fire photon torpedoes!" I turn my gaze back to Scoute. Scoute stands casually along the edge next to Squish. Hot anger boils up inside of me.

Scoute sees me moving toward her, and waves with a smile. A burst of adrenaline rushes through me. In a few moments, I confront her with a poisonous glare. She still beams, as if we are friends, and she hasn't been the cause of May or Wolfwind's death. "Greetings, Sarah! We have been properly introduced, correct?"

I grimace and nod. I imagine my face is turning the color of eggplant. Behind me, massive balls of light pound into the ground, and Autum shieds and throws Ro to the grnd. Scoute absently twirls a strand of hair on her finger. "Well, Squish and I know all about you. Stalkers, not necessarily, but we do keep an ear out for rumors about you. You see, Sarah, you're not the average teen someone would stumble across."

"Actually," the sponge interrupts. "She is anything but average. Unusual hair, unusual grades, unusual bad looks. She looks too shaggy."

I take a step back, offended. "Excuse me?"

"Sorry about that," Scoute mutters with a sheepish grin. "But you know what Squish means. Your bloodline is abnormal, causing abnormal powers. And my sidekick and I know everything about it. However, if you want to know more, I'd like to take you as our prisoner."

I scoff. "Only prisoner? Wouldn't an evil mastermind like you strive for more than a prisoner?"

I immediately regret it. Why hand her more ideas to use against me? "Oh, prisoner is just the start. I plan to extract a bit of your blood and inject it in my veins, to test if I would inherit your persuasion and singing abilities. Did your mother not tell you that her voice could send a man to his death?"

"My mother does not sing! Her powers lie in other areas!"

Scoute emits a sound that sounds like fingernails dragging down a chalkboard, which I realize with a start is her cackle. "That vain Scarlet woman! Not her! Tell me, did you ever wonder why you didn't inherit your parents' dark hair and eyes? Or were you too obliviously naive to wonder about yourself?"

"I always wondered about it, Smarty Pants. Couldn't I have my uncle or aunt's looks instead?"

"No," pips up Squish. "Your Mommy and Daddy are special. But to go further into information would require you as our prisoner. Now, I know you want to be our experiment, right?"[as][at]

My mind feels dazed and muddled. I'm about to say "yes", but something holds me back. Why do I feel so compelled to become a prisoner? I shake my head clumsily. "It wouldn't be good. My friends would miss me."

Squish looks at me with wide eyes. "Are we not your chums? The extracting would be painless, just a poke. Nothing to worry about, Sarah."

I lurch forward, and step on Squish with a loud, wet squelch. It cries out in shock. My arm instinctively shoots out and stabs Scoute in the shoulder. The force imbalances her, and she stumbles to the bluff, arms propelling wildly but not grasping any support. She topples down.

"Remember Sarah," she calls. "That the Queen is not your enemy. She is your mother."

I step back and Squish pops up, grumbling about hard shoes. I reach down and chuck it off the cliff, then fall to the ground in a heap of amazement, shock, relief, and horror.