True North

Chapter Six

The voices arguing on either side of my bed don't help the splitting headache that threatens to pull me apart, stitch by perfect stitch.

"Calm down, Jared," Storm quietly warns. "She's fine."

"She's not fine. You need to cancel whatever the hell you're planning. Something's wrong."

"You're being dramatic."

"I smell it on her."

"She's tired. She'll be fine."

"You're not listening."

I crack open an eye. My attention snags on the giant watercolor opposite the window—huge red flowers, bright like fresh blood—and then watch as the magnificently untidy True Born above me grabs the bridge of his nose in frustration. It must hurt. The bones of his face have lengthened again, a sure sign he's feeling protective.

"I'm listening," I croak, deciding to sit up and take part in this interesting turn of conversation. "How do I smell again?" I sniff.

Storm smiles. "Good, you're up," he says, as though I've just had a nap instead of a strange narcoleptic fit brought on by...

"Margot." I almost yell the word as I try to pull off the sheets tangling me.

"Whoa. Hold on there." Storms blocks my path. "Where do you think you're going?"

I take one short breath and look the leader of the True Borns square in the eye. "We have a deal, Mr. Storm. You made me a promise. Your turn."

Storm crosses his arms and nods with gravity. "Yes, we do, Lucy. But you need to slow down and talk to me."

I take a moment to watch the window glass streak with rain. She's still there. Margot is a shadow self within me, an echo in my bones. With a squeak, I tell Jared and Storm about feeling my twin short-circuit me. And when I'm finished, when my so-called guardian doesn't seem any more ready to spring into action than before, I feel I have no choice but to push the point home.

"Well?" My voice rises in frustration. "When do we leave?"

Storm looks out the window. The crackling veins of energy pulse back a weak light. Somehow, when he glances at me, I know I've lost this round.

"Do you know where she is?" he finally asks.

"No, but I know we can find her."

"You said it felt like Margot was panicked about something. Overwhelmed. But no sensations of physical harm? Did you think she was hurt?"

I shake my head. "Not exactly, but my wrists..." I hold up the flesh of my wrists, swollen and red, as proof.

He leans in closer. "Can you tell who is with her?"

A stab of betrayal curls through me. "You know I can't do that," I say weakly. "That's not how it works."

His glance is so pity-filled I'd as soon he slapped me. "Lucinda," he says. Too soft. Like I'm a kitten he's kicked.

I slowly slide from the bed and walk over to the window. The rain calls to me, as wild and furious as I feel. I place my hand on the cool glass. It fogs up immediately from my touch, leaving an extra hand behind. The same size and shape as Margot's.

Storm comes to stand behind me. "Those idiot senators are going to try to pen the preachers. They haven't got a clue what they're dealing with. And if they continue on this path, there will be an all-out civil war. Which is bad for my plans. Worse for my people. In fact, it will be worse for everyone in Dominion."