the Book of Twist

❦❧ Eleven - Blood Among Roses❦❧

My heart was a wild animal in my chest, gasping for air. I'd probably run quite a few miles in my desperation to get away, taking random turns this way and that, dodging any soldiers that came into view, hiding behind crowds, ducking into alleys. It was almost like a twisted game of hide and seek.

I was doubled over at the corner of a short street somewhere on the outskirts of the busier city districts. I took in my surroundings for the first time, as before I'd had one thought and one only; get away.

It looked to be a cluster of small brick town houses to my right, all lined in that cookie-cutter way that new suburban neighborhoods did. To my left there stood, towering and proud, taking up the whole right side of the street, a cathedral. It was surrounded by a lush green garden, embezzled with rich grass and popping flowers that leaked over the fence invitingly.

The cathedral itself was a formidable glass-and-stone structure, the needle-point tip of it shooting into the sky.

I wandered toward it, glancing about for any signs of life or possible danger. A little ways down, I could see pedestrians but the street was practically deserted.

The little iron gate ringing the garden was open, a small sign hanging next to it engraved with the words The Hanging Garden.

Curious, I wandered in.

Bushes, hung with glossy berries of blue, purple and black lined the short fence, and flower beds were scattered everywhere, filled with flowers like columbines, irises, forget-me-nots, you name it. A row of thickly leaved trees led to the next half of the garden.

The trees were hung with flowers and fruits, as well. Unlike the thick air I had had the pleasure of choking on as I ran through the floating city, the air here had a sharp, green smell, that of the dirt ground and roots, of living and growing things. I breathed it in, probably the only fresh air in the city. You could even feel a tickle of a breeze.

Beyond the garden, I could see stone stairs sinking down, leading out to an open balcony. A thick railing barred off the far side of the garden- and with good reason, I saw with delight. It was an edge of the city; the drop was quite literally a drop to absolute doom- it dipped down into clouds, the sky a vast azure and cotton cloud-streaked horizon beyond. This really was a sky city, like Marjolaine and Albert had said. Enchanted, I trudged down the steps to the Hanging Garden's terrace.

Bushes of ripe red roses hung heavy on either side of the stairs. Hanging off the side of the balcony, dangling over the edge of the sky city, were red, purple and white fuchsias, their green leaves cocooning them where they popped up from the ground between the stone slabs.

I stopped at the edge to gaze out at the clouds.

What was I doing, anyway? At least there was this, this crazy beautiful moment suspended in my dream. Wind teased my hair, brushing through it, and the vast expanse before me filled me with a sense of awe.

Sammy and Wyatt would both have loved to see it. Sammy probably would have wanted to sky dive right off the edge. Wyatt would have been so caught up with playing pilot, I'd have had to tug him away from the edge as he made silly propeller noises...

I let out a heavy sigh, an ache in my throat, closing my eyes and letting my head droop down to rest over my arms on the railing.

This nightmare was growing tiresome. I wondered if Marjolaine had escaped. Was I to find her? Doubtful she was waiting or searching for me, being the way she was, but... well, then again, it was a dream.

I straightened, glancing to the side at the thicket of rose bushes.

Roses had always been my favorite flower. I never could quite tell you why- maybe I found them romantic. Maybe I found them deceitful. Maybe I found them tragic.