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The two-minute shower in Havoc.
The hot spring in the shire.
I wasn’t sure either of them really counted.
A shower at Penelope’s house in Crollust. That’s where I first met Augustine. I replayed our conversation, wondering whether I could prepare myself for the audience. His teasing smirk as he fed on Penelope’s young sister. His intelligent eyes after he’d caught me stealing, and didn’t raise the alarm. He’d said he didn’t want anything from me then, that I had nothing he wanted. Would he try to cash in that favor now?
I’d showered in Skormhead, and Iklebot, though it was more of a bath. And in Denvato… I shuddered thinking about it. We’d been through so much together, in so short of a time.
And at what cost? Every time I showered, someone I cared about died. Now Jazmine was gone. And Damien captured. The thoughts spiraled. A few days ago we were laughing around the campfire, and now I’d lost them both.
You are the revolution,Damien’s last words played in my brain like broken record,but only if you survive.
I scrubbed my skin raw, feeling the sting as soap found the cuts and scrapes across my brow and cheek. I ran my fingers across the ragged line of shiny skin that cut across my abdomen like a brand, from the king’s sword when he ran me through above his flaming furnace of toxic ash. Seams that had come apart and been stitched together, leaving barely a scar. The elixir had saved my life, but the damage was too extensive to repair completely.The marked rebel. I was earning that title.
I held up my fingers, the dark, angular marks on my hands now bright against my pale skin, especially under the fluorescent light. I had a vague memory of an old woman in Algrave from when I was a child. She’d told my mother I was bad luck, that those marked so badly with the stains were a bad omen of things to come.
I’d never believed her, even though I grew to be self-conscious of the jagged patterns on my wrists and palms. But now I knew the truth about where I came from, and what I’d left behind. The last survivor from Quondom, the compound destroyed by the king for my grandfather’s trespasses. And now Algrave had been evacuated, in the same tragic fashion. Maybe Iwascursed.
The food soured in my stomach, and I realized the water had run cold and I was shivering. I crawled out of the tub, my head spinning, and barely made it to the toilet before I threw up.
Trevor’s voice came from outside the door.
“You okay in there?” he asked softly.
I wiped my mouth, gasping for breath. Then I reached up to flush the toilet.
“I’m okay,” I said. “I just need a little time.”
I knew it was a lie. Time couldn’t heal what was wrong with me. I was an ocean of rage and despair.
I lay on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, which was just big enough for me to curl my legs under the sink and lay my head next to the toilet. The coolness felt good against my flushed, feverish skin, and the painful throbbing in my neck from a pinched nerve.
I let gravity flatten me, the room spinning. I’d been through the thirst before, but I didn’t remember it being this bad. Hurting this much. I threw up again, then drank water from the sink. It seemed clean enough. Using a tiny, single-serving of toothpaste and a plastic toothbrush, I rinsed my mouth.
If you are captured, the revolution ends. Then I’ll really have no hope.
I didn’t know if I was captured. This small room, with its thin door, was nothing compared to Damien’s chained and nailed coffin. But the words galvanized me. I couldn’t afford to get lost in my own spiraling thoughts, to give into the darkness. Not yet. Not when Damien was still counting on me.
Trevor was sitting on the bed when I came out.
“You want some of this?” he asked, pointing at the spread of food, laid out across the single desk.
“I already ate,” I said.
“Doesn’t sound like you kept any of it down.”
“Not hungry,” I shrugged. “Probably a mistake to eat anyway, I wasn’t ready for it.”
He nodded, chewing his egg. I waited for questions, part of me eager to start planning and strategizing, but I was also thankful when he didn’t raise any.
“It’ll be dark soon,” he said, nodding to the window. Through the drapes, a thin slice of afternoon light cut through the apartment. “Think we might meet our host?”
“It’s Augustine,” I said. “The elite from Crollust, remember?”
“He’s here?” Trevor asked, eyes widening.
“I think so. But I don’t know what that means, or what this place is, or anything. We should be on our guard.”
