Prelude (The Rhapsody Quartet) (32 page)

His nose nuzzled my ear. His whisper was so soft that I almost couldn’t hear him, “You did well.” He continued, “Excuse the closeness, but this seems like a good cover.”

I shivered, his breath tickling my neck, and pulled away from him. “Will,” I said carefully, aloud, “not— not here.” I blushed. It felt like we were leading Marin into thinking we’d been together
intimately
. I didn’t want her to think that… unless it was true.

Marin leaned forward, lacing her hands together with a smug look on her face. The waitress arrived with glasses of water for the table.

I was too nervous to eat, but the group ordered a few different appetizers to start. Without the pressure of ordering, I folded the menu back on the table. I clutched at Score’s jacket, draped over my legs, wondering why I’d agreed to this.

I hated social situations before I’d changed. The additional magical attention didn’t help.

I sipped at the water slowly. It felt good, soothing on my throat. Marin kept giving me suggestive glances, and I wasn’t sure how to respond to her. I didn’t know what I wanted with Score. We were friends… weren’t we? We’d never done anything more than talk, more than hold hands or comfort each other. There were a few moments that seemed like, maybe we might cross that line but…

No, we weren’t anything.

Except… maybe I
wanted
—

The water felt hard and unyielding suddenly, like ice in my throat. It was constricting, choking, and my head felt like it would burst with pressure. I couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t do much of anything except sit there.

Little stars were exploding in my vision, red and black creating a panorama of hellfire.

“Sarah?” Score asked me, sounding nervous.

I didn’t respond, and he pressed it, “Sarah? Are you okay?”

Then I heard Score humming softly next to me, so quietly I thought I might have been imagining it. I coughed, sputtering until water flew from my mouth.

Within the dislodged pool was a small insect, dark green in color with beady black eyes. It skittered on the table, morphing, changing shape into something large, round, and spiny.

I felt sick to my stomach.

“Sarah!” Marin hissed, her back going rigid.

“What the hell is that?!” Cody asked, pointing at the creature.

Marin’s nostrils flared, and she whipped her wrist up. The water around the table hardened into solid ice, trapping the menace. She glanced at me, “I think we need to get you home, Sarah. To your
friend
. Who specializes in these sorts of things.”

Score’s face was drawn, his mouth tight. I wondered what color his eyes were beneath the dull brown of the contacts.

I nodded at Marin. Yes, we needed Glenn. This wasn’t normal. This was an attack.

My voice was rough and scratchy. I felt like it had been through a cheese grater when I finally responded, “Cody, you need to forget about this.”

His eyes glazed over, and he nodded.

Marin scraped the whole thing— ice, insect, everything— into one of the glasses with a disgusted look on her face. She gave me a pointed look, jerking her head towards Score.

Oh.

I turned to him, my heart pounding hard, my hands trembling.

He stared into my eyes, his face painted with worry. “Are you okay?” he asked me again.

I didn’t know the answer to that, but I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze anyway, nodding. “I think so.” I leaned over, kissing his cheek. “Sorry to cut this short,” I said, feeling like my voice was harsh and rasping. It was probably almost an assault to his ears.

He brought his hand up to my face, his expression one I couldn’t read, before he nodded, “Yeah, okay. I understand.”

Marin kicked me beneath the table.

Right. I sighed, and added, “You need to forget about this, too, Will.”

He closed his eyes and nodded again before sliding out of the booth, letting us leave.

Of course, he wouldn’t actually forget. Neither one of us would.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marin and I made a beeline for her car. I was grateful she’d driven. Walking home in the rain after that would have been awful.

She handed me the glass. I peered at the monstrosity that came from my body.

“What is this?” I asked harshly, disgusted.

Marin shook her head. “I have no idea, but then again, I don’t really specialize in this sort of thing.” She backed out, her tires squealing, peeling out of the lot and zipping on the main road far faster than the speed limit. The rain didn’t even seem to touch the vehicle.

“How did you manage— did you freeze it?”

She looked grim, “Aquamancy. It’s a mermaid royal thing, that’s all.” She sounded so dismissive about it.

“Thank you,” I said, my stomach burning. No matter where I was, it seemed, I wasn’t safe from attack.

Marin shook her head. “Yeah. No problem.” She turned to me. “Sorry our date was ruined,” she said regretfully.

I gave her an incredulous look. That didn’t seem at all important to me at the moment. “Don’t worry about it.”

I glanced again into the tumbler. It was difficult, between the glass from the cup and the ice, to make it out clearly. It was a moss color— more brown than green, now— and dark, with sharp, jagged spines and a round body. I couldn’t tell if it still had a face or not.

I leaned back. “Do I have to worry about this thing melting, escaping?” I asked her.

She shook her head, “Not unless I release it, and that, I can promise you, isn’t happening.”

She pulled into her driveway, throwing the door open and slamming it shut. I wasn’t sure if she was more unnerved by the attack or by the interruption of our date.

I pushed myself out of the car, careful to keep the tumbler steady, the creature contained. I followed her through the doors and up the stairs.

Glenn was seated in the corner, his legs propped up on the ottoman, reading one of my books—
Jane Eyre
, of all things. He sighed and said sarcastically, “Well, your date must have gone
great
if you’re already—” He turned to us, noted our expressions, and was up in a flash.

“What happened?” He pushed Marin out of the way. “Is she safe?”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, thrusting the little cup to him. “I’m fine, but this…
thing
… attacked me, choked me.” My voice still hurt to use, and my empty hand went up to my throat.

Glenn pulled the glass from my hands, dumping the contents into his palm.

“
Arashk
,” he hissed under his breath.

“What is that, Glenn?” Marin asked him, “I’ve never—”

He shook his head grimly, replacing the creature in the glass. “That’s because it’s from the Shadowlands, Princess.”

She pulled a face, somewhere between disgust and terror, “Really? But—”

Glenn paced the room, his hand a tight fist. “But nothing!” He glanced up at me. “How did it choke her?”

“One minute she was sipping on her water, the next—” Marin shrugged, “she was turning purple. I’m not even sure how, but she coughed it up, and it started to change shape.”

“
Mors vincit omnia
,” Glenn mumbled, “a foul creature. It infiltrates a body, expanding and shredding until it and the host dies, then it explodes into a thousand more of its kind. It’s rapid, though, at least that’s a mercy.”

“She almost died!” Marin protested.

Glenn stared at her evenly, “Yes, but she
didn’t
. The more important thing is wondering how things from the Shadowlands are finding their way into her drinking water!” He turned to me, “I’m sure you’re traumatized, Sarah.” He addressed Marin, “Go and fetch her something to drink! Water—
bottled water
—” he clarified. The mermaid left the room, shaking.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands trembling. Glenn sat next to me. “Are you okay, then? Other than scared, I mean?”

I shrugged, uncertain. “I think so. My throat is a little beat up.”

He frowned, digging through his satchel. “In that case, set this on the back of your tongue,” he said, handing me a large white flower petal. I trusted Glenn, so I did as he asked. I was relieved to feel a cool tingle spreading towards the back of my throat.

“That should help it heal faster. It’ll be less than a day’s time.”

“Glenn?” I said softly, mumbling and trying to keep the petal balanced in my mouth as I spoke.

“Yes, Sarah?”

“What are the Shadowlands?”

His mouth tightened down even more, his eyes narrowing. “It’s a grim place within the Realm. Every human story about monsters can trace its roots back there. It is constant darkness.” He grabbed the huge book Aldan gave me, hauling it over, and opened it, pointing at the map.

Shadowlands territory was enormous, probably an eighth of the Realm covering the western side of the map. I traced it with my fingertips, shivering. “So somewhere in there, someone wants to kill me?” I asked softly.

Glenn shrugged. “Not necessarily, but possibly. At any rate, a skilled magic-user has attempted to end you more than once.” He looked into my eyes. “I don’t want to scare you, but you need to be careful. More careful than you’ve been.” He frowned, “It might be best to break it off with that human boy.”

My heartbeat quickened. If there was anything I couldn’t lose right now, it was Score. I wished for the hundredth time that I could come clean to Glenn, let him know Score was another siren.

“I’ll… think about it,” I answered, unwilling to argue tonight.

Marin bounded through the door, handing me a bottle of water. I twisted off the seal and took a sip, almost afraid another monster would appear.

Mercifully, nothing happened except relief from my thirst. After a couple moments, I was gulping at it greedily. Between that and the flower petal, my throat was starting to mend. I laid back on the bed, closing my eyes. I wondered why my assailant thought I should die.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Broken

School was the same for most of the week. For the next couple days, I didn’t push my luck and try to meet with Score. I thought Glenn would draw the line somewhere, especially after a fourth attack. At this rate, I averaged more than one attempt on my life per week. I often wondered how anyone could think I was that important.

I finally finished studying the huge atlas Aldan had given me, though I was hardly an expert. I could tell the general geography of the five largest territories. That would have to do.

Despite the time I’d devoted to it, I was confused about some of the book. On the older maps, the outer most ring was labeled the Borderlands, but the newer ones listed it as the Broken. No explanation had been given for the revision. Smaller territories also changed, but there was always a footnote— war, treaty, annexation, and so on. There were even annotations for natural border changes relating to rivers, floods, or volcanoes. I’d carefully searched for answers within the text, but the rationale for the difference remained conspicuously absent.

That Thursday, I slipped into the keeper-den after school with the huge book in my arms. I was grateful to be rid of it.

Aldan’s eyes were narrowed when I finally adjusted to the brightness. I stepped forward to him, hauling the book up and abandoning it on the desktop with a slam.

“I’d remind you to please respect my books.” He glared at me. “Learning poor habits from that elf?”

I shook my head. “Actually, Glenn is more respectful of your books than I am.”

“That information is hardly a comfort, young lady. If you continue to treat my collection in such a poor manner, I promise you will wear out your welcome.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. Arguing with Aldan was pointless. The keeper was rigid in his prejudices. “I’ve been stressed out.”

“Humph,” he grumbled. “That is no reason to treat such precious knowledge so pitifully.” He glowered at me. “What is troubling you?”

I shrugged, uncomfortable. I didn’t really want to mention the attacks, so I changed the subject, “It’s not important. There was something I didn’t understand in that atlas, though—”

“There is much, I am certain, you didn’t understand! You have all the depth and potential of a gnat.”

I ignored him and plowed on, “The areas of the map that are labeled the Borderlands change depending on which map they’re on. Everything else that changed over time has explanations attached to it— but not this. Why?”

Aldan shuffled around his desk until he found a large map of the Realm. He unrolled it onto his desk, waving me over to him. He pointed one gnarled finger around the edges of the map, following the borders carefully. “This is the area that was once called the Borderlands, and if you have to ask me why, you are no longer allowed to be my student,” he muttered.

I narrowed my eyes. “I
know
that,” I snapped impatiently.

He ignored me and continued, “Once upon a time, it was considered neutral territory. Beyond it is nothing that has been seen. It surrounds all the land of the Realm.”

“How can no one know what’s beyond it? Isn’t the Realm round, like a globe?”

Aldan rolled his eyes, “Perhaps the Realm is as round as the Overworld. I do not know. Those who have traveled deep within the Borderlands do not return.”

“But—”

“As much as I would love an answer to these questions, I am not about to embark upon a suicide mission to discover them, girl! The question is moot. We could argue for hours upon the subject without making any progress.”

I sighed. He was right. “So… the Borderlands?”

He pointed at the eastern edge of the map. “682 years ago, the Borderlands
here
began to change. Within a few years
, all
the Borderlands were changing.”

“Changing into
what
, sir?”

He shrugged, “Who knows? We call it the Broken now. The only certain thing we know of the place is that the magic is being leeched out of it. The environment is in crisis. On the fringes, it is a wasteland of nothingness, devoid of all life. The closer you get to the main lands of the Realm— the places where it has most recently spread— it becomes more twisted. Sinister, even. The magic is leaving it, but what little dregs of power remain are unbalanced, and therefore
dangerous
. Should anything living remain, it becomes twisted. The location is second only to the Shadowlands in peril.”