Umberland Page 13

  “Alyssa, come back!” he shouts.

  Zigzagging through the trees, I barely hear the sound of rushing water over my rapid breath. Wherever water runs, civilization is surely close by. My pulse throbs in my ears, but I don’t know if it’s from fear or from running.

  Something catches my cloak, causing me to stumble. I crash into an icy snow berm, sending a shooting pain through my rib cage. Grimacing, I sit up, babying my bruised ribs. When I lift my gaze, Maddox stands over me, the hem of my cloak in his hand. Behind him, the forest is on fire. As the corners of his mouth turn up into a wide grin, his skin melts away, leaving only chunks of muscles and bone. Blood pulses through shiny arteries and veins. I scream in horror, covering my eyes and retreating. But Maddox still grips my cloak, and as I try to pull it free, I fall back. When I open my eyes, the snow is gone and I am surrounded by briar bushes bursting with flames. I try to move through the branches, but they snatch at my clock, the thorns catching and snagging, the flames licking at the fabric. I pull my arms out of the sleeves, shedding the cloak before it catches fire.

  Again, I hear my name rumble through the woods. I scramble to my feet, dry leaves crunching beneath my boots. Branches whip at my face as I run as fast as I can. Warm liquid stings my cheeks. Blood, but I don’t bother to stop, only race toward the sound of water. To freedom.

  Under the light of the starry sky, a break appears in the trees ahead. With every breath, every ounce of energy left in my aching muscles, I hurry toward the opening. Not slowing, I burst through the tree line, unable to stop myself. Suddenly, I find myself in flight, a raging inferno behind me. My scream is swept away by roaring water. Having launched myself off the side of a cliff, I’m now plunging down the face of a cascading waterfall. Water pounds me from all sides, and below me, a navy-blue lake reflects the moon and billions of stars.

  My heart skips several beats. More horrifying than seeing Maddox decompose before my very eyes is the prospect of plunging into the middle of a lake, weighed down by my heavy sword. Worse yet, I have no idea how to swim.

  I struggle to release the strap of the leather-and-copper sheath, but it’s far too late. Ice-cold water takes my breath away, and I sink to the bottom of the frigid lake.

  It takes nearly an hour to convince Lily that she’s going to be okay, although I feel as if I’m only mollifying her. I have no idea if she’ll recover, and even if there’s a possibility that she will, I’m uncertain we’ll have an antidote in time. Even though they should be in the infirmary, Doc insisted that the two girls settle in Lily’s quarters so he can keep a closer eye on them. The concern etched on his face makes it clear he cares for them both.

  The onyx early morning sky beyond the castle windows taunts me. It won’t be much longer before dawn reaches for the horizon. A few hours at best.

  Gwen, the only one among us who seems to have a way with calming the usually fearless warrior, sits with the girls. I have always faced difficult times with sarcasm and wit, and if that doesn’t work, with authority, delegating duties to others to get things done. But Gwen, as fierce a fighter as she is, she’s a gentle and compassionate caretaker. My heart swells, watching her speak to Lily and Bella in reassuring whispers, promising that everything will be all right. This side of her is one I’ve always admired. I can’t imagine my life without her. I refuse to accept that everything we have together is over.

  Gwen looks over her shoulder, noticing Doc and me loitering in the doorway. She shoos us out with the wave of a hand and returns to soothing the girls’ fears with kind words, all the while holding their hands. Taking her not-so-subtle hint, Doc and I exit the room, waiting for Gwen in the hallway.

  “What is happening to them?” I hiss.

  He stares at me with an anger that must reflect my own. His lips press together in a thin line, as if to keep from saying something he’ll regret. How he manages to hold his temper in check I will never understand. He knows that anything he says will only escalate the situation; it always does. So instead of gratifying me with a response, he leans up against the wall and crosses his arms, waiting for me to pull it together. I hate when he does this. Especially when I’m itching for a fight.

  I pace the hallway, stopping once as I notice my reflection in a large mirror hung on the wall. Hair disheveled, unshaved face, circles so dark beneath my eyes they look almost like fresh bruises.

  How can I be a good leader when I’ve let so many down? Alnwick deserves better. And maybe even Gwen deserves better.

  Something explodes within me, breaking the restraints I’ve been trying to use to hold my temper. My fist smashes the mirror, sending shards of glass cascading to the floor. My knuckles burn, chunks of glass piercing my skin, but it feels good. The sting in my hand draws away from the pain of failure within my head and soul.

  “You done?” Doc says, lacking even a hint of surprise at my outburst.

  I glare but say nothing, evidence of my quiet surrender.

  He motions for me to sit. Moving out of the pile of glass, I lean against the wall and sink to the floor. Doc kneels by me and pulls out a mini-medikit from his waistcoat pocket. Gripping tweezers, he removes pieces of glass from my skin. Each tug stings but doesn’t compare to the sharp ache within my chest. I try to stop thinking of the look of sheer disappointment in me that flashed across Gwen’s face earlier, but her expression is burned into my mind.

  “Are you ready to hear my theory on what is happening to those treated with the antidote?” he asks, focusing on my hand, not bothering to make eye contact.

  “If it’s any better than your solutions, fire away,” I say, irritated.

  “The patients first develop unusual blisters that thicken into permanent calcified scabs with time, becoming almost like scales,” he says, plucking a sliver of glass from my fist. I jerk my hand from his grasp. He rolls his eyes and gives me a look that I clearly interpret as “you big baby.”

  I raise my eyebrows nonchalantly. “It doesn’t hurt.”

  Narrowing his eyes, he yanks another glass shard from my hand. I visibly wince, and he smirks, taking pleasure in this sign of weakness.

  “Next they develop a core temperature drop beyond what any human can stand, and yet they survive.”

  “Survive? You call lying sick in beds surviving?” I mutter.

  Doc rips out more glass without the care he typically gives his patients. Grimacing, I regret my snarky remarks. When it comes to upsetting Doc, I always find myself remorseful for my actions when I need his expertise. Today is no different.

  He frowns, noticeably irritated with me. “Are you going to let me finish?”

  I don’t offer an answer, sure he’s waiting for the opportunity to make this process more painful than it already is. He takes that as a cue to continue.

  Doc yanks out another sliver. I grit my teeth.

  “And now Lily’s and Bella’s eyes? I’ve never seen anything like that,” he says.

  “So what’s going on, Doc? What do you think is happening to them?”

  Doc shakes his head. “It has to have something to do with the lizard protein. Instead of just healing them, repairing body parts, it’s turning them into something inhuman, something almost animal.”

  Scales, lower than normal body temperature, slits for pupils. I let out a long-held-back sigh. “Something reptilian,” I say.

  Worry creases his brow as he meets my gaze. Reluctantly he nods.

  “Unfortunately, that’s my conclusion as well. I think the lizard protein, combined with Gwen’s antibodies, may have created something different. A different poison or disease altogether.”

  “How do we reverse it?” I ask.

  Doc shakes his head. “Same as I said before: replicate the toxin, create the proper antidote, and hope it works.”

  “How long will it take for you to come up with an alternate antidote once we have that apple?” I say.

  Doc runs a hand through his messy blond hair. “I have no idea, but time is running out fast. And we don
’t even know if it will work.” He looks as helpless as I feel for a moment, before he says, “I sent the younger Lost Boys out to catch lizards so I can figure out why the lizard protein is reacting like it is. Gabs has needed some coaxing to give up his lizards. Says he wants to keep them as pets and has even been naming them.”

  “Naming them?” I ask.

  “Yeah, they all have L names. Linus, Luther, Larry, Loretta, Lola … All Ls except one he calls Bill.”

  I open my mouth to respond, but Doc holds a hand up. “Don’t ask me why. We are talking about Gabs.”

  My involuntary laugh shocks me. It’s been a long time since anything has made me laugh. Although Gabs has a tendency to brighten any dark situation. The respite from the dire thoughts racing through my head is beyond welcome. “Why does that not surprise me?”

  Doc puts the tweezers away and removes my gloves before dabbing my cuts with an alcohol swab.

  “So … Bella?” I ask reluctantly, afraid to hear his assessment of her condition.

  Doc shakes his head. “She’s always been the unhealthiest of the sick, or at least of the ones who’ve survived. Unfortunately, the pain she’s going through is only going to become much worse.”

  Although I know all of this, hearing him say it out loud makes me feel nauseous. Above everyone else, Bella was my responsibility. She’s my sister. Maybe not by blood, but my sister nonetheless. And I’ve let her down, just like I let my real sister, Gabrielle, down. I have no words.

  Breaking the awkward silence, he clears his throat. “I should get back to the lab. I want to have done as much research as possible by the time Alyssa returns.”

  “If she does return,” I reply.

  Doc stands and offers me a hand. I take it, wincing as I allow him to help me to my feet. He returns my gloves and starts to walk off, but stops, his back still to me. “Give yourself a break, Pete. I know what you’re thinking. I’ve battled the same demons I imagine are eating you up from inside. The will to try so hard to help everyone and the sense that you’ve failed them all. In my case, I’ve done the best I could. I lost a piece of me when Gabrielle died. I loved her so much. If I lose Bella, too, I have to live with the fact that, not only as her physician but as her friend, I failed her. No matter how hard I try, all the education in the world isn’t enough to make her healthy again.”

  His words pierce holes in my heart. He’s right. Doc is so many things to her. A friend, a brother, a doctor … If she dies, he’s failed in every way. I start to say something, but the words stick in my throat, because I, too, have failed her.

  “It’s never too late for you, Pete. We will always, always need a leader. Bella will always need you, until her very last breath.”

  His words strike a chord, but I’m not sure how to respond. Doc turns and disappears toward the laboratory. I’m about to follow him when Gwen steps into the hallway, quietly closing the door behind her.

  “They’re asleep now,” she says through a yawn, reminding me that it’s nearly morning. We’re all long overdue for rest, but with all that’s happened tonight, sleep evades me. I’m not the least bit tired.

  “What are we going to do about them?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “I haven’t the slightest idea.”

  Silence hangs heavy in the air, its weight as distant as the space between the girl I love and myself. I search for words to assure her we’ll be okay, but my lips fail me.

  She stares at the floor, her hands clasped in front of her. Normally she’d reach for me and hold my hand, if only to bring us both some comfort.

  “Pete,” she says, then stops. And I know. I just know.

  She starts again. “I can’t be with you. I love you, but it’s too much. It just hurts too much and I just …” She trails off and looks me in the eye.

  My heart shatters as I see the sad determination there. I can’t talk my way out of this one. But I have to try. “Please. Please don’t do this. I love you,” I say, my voice gravelly. “I need you, Gwen. I’d rather be with you until the end than be without you.”

  Sadly, she shakes her head. “It’s over, Pete. There’s nothing you can say to fix this. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t give you my heart only to know that I’ll lose it if I lose you.”

  Before I can say anything else, shouts burst from the entrance of the castle. As if one more thing could possibly go wrong. I want to stay and figure this out with Gwen, but I can’t. I sprint down the staircase two steps at a time and find Pickpocket bleeding from the forehead, collapsed on the floor. Cogs kneels by his side with a worried expression. Scout slams the castle doors shut, locks them, and pulls a handkerchief from his vest. He places it on Pickpocket’s forehead. Outside, profanities and fists beat at the castle doors.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “Revolt!” Pickpocket says between gasps.

  The screaming is so loud there must be dozens of kids out there. Having been woken up by the ruckus, the Lost Boys stumble out, each holding their weapon of specialty. My pride for their bravery is overshadowed by the sadness of those we’ve lost along the way. Lily, Gwen, Doc, and I rescued so many and brought them to Northumberland. Now fewer than half are left, and of those, so many are weak.

  “Enough is enough!” Gwen races down the staircase, flips the lock, and shoves the castle doors open. Bright light fills the entryway. She shields her eyes with her arm. The orange hue of firelight dances on her face, illuminating her expression of shock. Her bravado slips as she steps back. The outside commotion dies down. I join her, my Lost Boys standing with me, to take in the plight before us.

  Dozens of kids, each showing symptoms of infection, stand wielding weapons of all kinds: guns, knives, swords, and various other sharp objects. Leading the pack, Katt wears a naughty smile.

  “Good morning. I hope we haven’t disturbed you,” Katt says, chuckling.

  “Actually, you have. We’re a little busy here,” Gwen says furiously, her fists on her hips. I’ve seen her frustrated, even angry. Right now she’s fierce, filled with a rage I haven’t seen her wield in a while.

  “Isn’t that a shame?” Katt hisses. “Too busy for the dying? Every minute, every second, is precious. It’s nearly dawn, Lost Girl, and I’m tired of watching the incompetence in the leadership. First my sister, then Duchess Alyssa, and now Pete. We deserve better. I’m here to take what is rightfully mine. The crown, and with it, the Professor’s research.”

  “As long as your sister still breathes the crown doesn’t belong to you. As for my mother’s papers, they belong to me. You’ll have to get through me to get them,” Gwen says confidently.

  “I already told you that the Professor’s research was non-negotiable,” I shout, shielding Gwen. Her head jerks my way, as if she’s surprised to see me standing by her side. “You might be entitled to the crown, but you’ll never be my queen, and we refuse your rule. Alnwick and Northumberland are under my leadership until Duchess Alyssa returns. Go back to the Poison Garden.”

  Laughing, Katt throws her head back, her long, dark hair whipping in the wind. “Your leadership? You think corralling a herd of a few dozen orphans gives you the expertise to rule over thousands of people?” She smirks. “By royal decree, this place is mine. All of the United Kingdom is mine. Step down, Lost Boy, and I’ll be sure you and yours will be treated with mercy.”

  “Not without a fight,” I say. My eyes burn with anger. There’s no more time to prepare. It’s now or never. “Listen up, you who have come to Alnwick seeking help. I vow to you today that I will lay down my life not only for my Lost Kids, but also for those of you who stand with the true Queen of England, who still lives. To you who pledge your alliance to Duchess Alyssa, I serve you! I promise you I will defend Alnwick until the duchess returns with the ingredient to the cure, or I will die trying. Our only hope lies in the safe return of the duchess. Choose! Choose your allegiance and choose wisely, because I give you fair warning: Once you’ve made your choice, you will not be welcome back. W
ho among you will stand with me to defend Alnwick and all of Northumberland?”

  The Lost Boys shout their allegiance, drawing even closer to Gwen and me.

  Murmurs rumble through the crowd, and a few people argue with one another. Scuffles break out.

  “Choose now or you will be considered a traitor to Alnwick, which will come at a steep cost,” I demand.

  A crease forms between Gwen’s brows. “Pete, what are you doing?”

  “This is it. This is our final stand, Gwen. War is inevitable. It’s time for everyone to pick their side,” I say, turning my attention back to the crowd.

  Only a handful of the refugees join us. One by one, the tired, hungry, and bedraggled kids trudge past me, joining the ranks of Lost Boys. Though Katt’s group still outnumbers us, I’ll take the extra hands. Pride wells in me. I know I’ve made the right choice to stand for not just the Lost Boys, not just the kids from Everland, not even just the people of Alnwick. I stand for all of the United Kingdom and those who seek shelter within her borders.

  Although initially ruffled by the retreating group, Katt paces in front of the castle, her boots clicking on the courtyard stone.

  “We’ve heard the excuses, listened to your pathetic apologies, and vows to defend Umberland,” she says righteously. “No more!”

  I turn away from Katt and look each Lost Boy in the eye. It might be the last time I ever do. “Barricade all entrances and windows. Prepare for battle,” I order.

  The trees of the Black Forest continue to loom over us as we journey beyond the Zwerg village. Vines hang from the branches, giving the appearance of snakes. My boots feel heavy, waterlogged, as we search for dry ground within the murky swamp. Rickety cottages on raised stilts appear abandoned. The water is littered with random items, as if this was once a community not unlike the Zwerg village. Toys, articles of clothing, and other items float past us. My nose tingles with the smell of rotten plant clippings and dead carcasses. The odor is suffocating. I wrap a handkerchief around my nose and mouth, trying to cut out the horrid stench.