romeo remeemed

chapter 10

juliet

The nightmares rend my sanity with tiny demon claws, but still I fight to stay asleep. I fight, but even in dreams the smell reaches me-the sweet, musty, mineral scent of salvation. Water. Water. I wake with a start that sends agony shooting through my stiff muscles. The world inside the tomb is still as black as pitch, and my aching bones howl as I roll to the right side of my prison, but I don't let fear or pain distract me. I reach out, find the trickle of water through the marble with shaking fingers, and press my mouth to the stone. I am so weak, my soul clinging to my body by a few rapidly unraveling threads, but the water is an inspiration. I run my tongue across the rock and taste hope. I purse my lips and suck, greedy and shameless, until the silence outside my grave is broken by a chuckle near the source of the life-giving water I drink. Life-giving ... if the friar hasn't poisoned it. I scuttle to the far side of the tomb, pressing my hands over my mouth, stifling the scream swelling inside me. I pull my legs into my chest, scraping my knees as I move. There is just enough room for me to ball my body into the fetal position, to seek protection in the most primitive, helpless way a human being can. "Juliet?" My name becomes a filthy thing when he speaks it. His evil permeates the stone, washes over my body in oily waves that make me tremble. "Speak to me, my dear. Let me know that you are well." I tuck my head, squeeze my eyes closed, and pray for sleep. But sleep is far from me now. The water set things moving in my mind that won't be so easily stilled. "I thought you would be thirsty. I've tried to move the stone, but it is too heavy for one old man," he says. "We must wait for Romeo." Romeo. The first time I lived through this day, the friar pulled me from the grave to witness Romeo's seemingly lifeless body crumpled on the floor in the hall of the tomb. The friar said the messenger had lost his way on the road and Romeo had never received our letter. Romeo had had no knowledge of the plan to fake my death and had assumed I had truly drunk poison rather than be wed to Paris. That's why he had taken poison as well, and lay dead on the cold earth. I can remember the rage and pain and misery and helplessness I felt. I can remember how empty the world seemed without the light of my love, how easily the decision was made, how smoothly his dagger slipped from its sheath. I shoved the blade into my breast without the slightest hesitation. The agony of my heart bursting inside of me was a cruel blessing. Then, death had seemed the only choice. Is that still their plan? For Romeo to play dead and trick me into committing suicide? If so, then why is the friar here now? Why does he pretend he lacks the strength to move the stone? He is a Mercenary. He has the strength to lift my entire sarcophagus off the floor. So why ... "Juliet. Please ... I know you are awake. I hear you crying." I bite my tongue, stilling the sobs I hadn't realized were escaping. "I fear for you, my girl. I fear your mind has been touched by this terrible risk we've taken." I pick at the flaking skin on my lips, the sting as I pull a strip of dead flesh free helping me focus through my fear. The plan must have changed. He and Romeo must have a different plot. But this time I will be ready for them. I won't go quietly. I won't go at all. I will live to bring what goodness I can to the world. It's what Ben would want. Ben, who would never hurt or deceive, who loved me so well in such a short time, whom I will hold in my heart when terror threatens to overcome me. I pull his face to the front of my mind, and imagine I am looking into his eyes as I whisper, "I am awake." My voice is hoarse and small, but the friar hears me. I know he does. "Juliet?" Who else would it be, you monster? How many other girls have you buried alive this week? I dig my fingernails into my palms and let out a shuddering breath, shocked by how close the words came to leaping from my mouth. I can't let him realize I know what he is. I must let him assume I'm still an innocent young girl and he my trusted confessor, for as long as possible. I must use his ignorance of my true experience to my advantage. It's my only weapon, my only hope. "Yes, Father," I say, trembling. "I am so afraid." "Don't be afraid, my child. I am here. I will stay with you and be certain you emerge from this misery." He says the right words, but I hear the caution in his tone. He senses something isn't right; I can feel it. I'm an Ambassador no longer, but there is something supernatural left inside me. I pull my knees in tighter, imagine myself a nut with a shell hard enough to protect my secrets. "Please," I whimper, trying to think nothing but what I thought when I was in this place the first time. I am terrified that my duplicity will color my voice. "Get me out. Please." "I can't. I lack the strength. But Romeo will help me. He should be here soon. Unless ..." "Unless what?" I sob, heart racing. This is it. Whatever he says next, it's my clue as to how to avoid death in the tomb a second time. "Did you communicate with him, Juliet? After I left you with the sleeping draft?" "No," I say without a second's hesitation. It's the truth. I spoke to no one after my final confession to the friar. I went to my room, changed into the blue gown I wore the day Romeo and I were married, said one final prayer, and took the poison. The friar grunts. A sound of dismay? Or disbelief? "I didn't. I swear it. What has happened? Is he well?" I ask, knowing Romeo's welfare would still be utmost in my mind, even now, when I am the one buried alive. After a brief pause, the friar says, "I don't know. We were to meet at dawn on the road outside Verona. But when I arrived, he wasn't there." "What?" It's a lie. Isn't it? "I waited for several hours," he says. "But Romeo never came. I asked about him at the tavern and on the plaza where his friends often stand idle, but no one had word. I sent a second messenger to where he said he'd be hiding, bidding Romeo to come straight to the Capulet tomb, but it has been several hours now, and ... I fear something has happened to the boy." "Oh no. No!" I bury my face in my hands, the tears coming easily. My mind and body are fragile, and I have plenty of things to cry about, though I couldn't care less if Romeo has abandoned the friar. If Romeo has come to his senses in this new version of the past and fled the Mercenaries, it's best for everyone. Well, everyone ... except me. But I will find a way to escape. I must. Because even if Romeo is gone and the friar's mission to convert another Mercenary has failed, he won't set me free. He'll let me die here. For his own entertainment, if nothing else. "I'm sorry, child. But there may still be hope. Perhaps-" "No, there is no hope," I say, bitterness thick in my voice. My plan is half-formed and impulsive, but there's no time for second-guessing. "He's gone. He regrets our marriage. He told me so the morning after ... The morning we ..." I break down, sobbing hysterically. There's barely enough water left in my body to make tears, but I don't let that stop me. I weep as one betrayed, one violated in the worst way a lover can violate another. I weep as if Romeo has stolen my heart and tossed it onto the side of the road, a thing of such little value, it isn't worthy of the space it takes up in his saddlebag. "Shh, shh, my girl. Surely you are mistaken. Romeo loves you. Truly. With all his heart and soul." "No, he isn't ready for marriage. He confessed it to me," I say. "I thought he would come to his senses when he saw I was willing to tempt death to stay faithful to our vows, but ..." "This is true, Juliet?" "It is." I make a desperate sound-part scream, part sob, part cry of pain. "And I wish I could kill him for it!" I dissolve into tears again, but more quietly this time, straining to hear the friar's response, wondering if he will take the bait. He's been courting Romeo, believing Romeo to be, between the two of us, the most easily swayed to murder. But I could serve his purpose just as well-if I am willing to kill my soul mate, to slay Romeo and swear myself to the Mercenaries. In order for me to do either, he must set me free. And when he does, I will find a way to safety. I can do it. If I keep myself surrounded by people, he won't have the opportunity to kill me. Mercenaries won't reveal themselves in a public place. They prefer to conduct their business-and their torture-in private. "It is a sin to even think such things," he finally says. "I don't care." I summon as much passion as possible, though my body shakes with exhaustion. "I don't!" "Juliet, quiet. You will hurt yourself." "No. I will hurt him. Find someone to lift the stone. I will hunt him down and-" "Silence." The sudden hatred in his tone makes me flinch. "I feel you, girl. I feel your lies." My skin goes cold. "Wh-what?" "Where is he? You know where he is," the friar hisses. "And if you want to live to see another sunrise, you will tell me. Now." I cringe, wishing I could seep into the stone beneath me and disappear. Because I have nothing to tell him, nothing but a scrap of a nightmare that threatens to dissolve completely if I examine it too closely. But it's all I have. My only chance. And so I make another confession to this dark priest. "I've seen Romeo in a vision," I whisper. "He's betrayed you. Nurse is making him an Ambassador."