Tempest

Chapter Three

I woke with a start, a faint sheen on sweat on my forehead, sitting bolt upright. My head was pounding. Not only that, but I was in some sort of weird place. The walls of the room were white, as were the sheets and the dresser. It looked like a hospital. Actually, it might be. “Adriana?” I called, noticing that my arm was bandaged and didn’t hurt that much anymore, more like a dull, throbbing annoyance.

“Over here, sleeping beauty.” I turned towards the sarcastic voice to see the mirror at the foot of my bed. I picked it up to see Adriana had re-braided her hair and had made a necklace out of lilies. “You’ve been out of it for hours, Vivien.”

I shook my head slowly, my brain swarming with memories just beyond my reach. “What happened?” I asked hazily, placing a hand to my arm.

She shrugged. “Stuff.” I glared at her and she rolled her eyes. “Well, after you did a face-plant in the dirt because of blood loss, the man asked me what had happened. So I told him. I needed to get to the rebellion and you were accompanying me. He knew who I was, too. Right off. Strange. But he’s filthy rich! This place, you’re in the smallest room for recovery, it’s huge! And it has servants! The man who rescued you, he’s the owner of the estate, Mr. Barkier. He has a wife and this bratty kid who insulted me. Called me a witch lady as soon as he saw me. Remind me to kill him when I get out of here,” Adriana concluded with a sniff and a hair toss.

Okay then. “We’ve been invited to stay the night, too. Because you passed out, it’s about dusk right now and Mr. Barkier says that the demons come out more at night,” Adriana added.

And we wouldn’t want to run into more demon dogs, now would we? “Hey, do you think that this Mr. Barkier person would let me eat something? I’m famished,” I asked Adriana, my stomach growling noisily, and she shrugged.

“The worst he can do is kill you. Which would suck, because then I would need another messenger,” I glared at her again and she smirked.

I rolled out of bed and landed softly on my feet, my head swimming for a second before clearing. I walked around for a minute to make sure I wasn’t going to go light-headed and pass out or anything, but I was okay, so I walked out in search of the kitchen. Adriana was right. This place was huge. The walls were a pale blue color and there were busts of people whom I didn’t know decorating every table. There were far too many doors to count and the hallway was super long. Finally I poked my head out of the hallway to see a giant room, probably the size of my house. It had brown sofas and a pool table, along with a coffee table and a cabinet full of china. “Fancy,” I murmured and Adriana nodded her agreement, looking around.

I went through a door on the opposite end of the room to see what I had been looking for: the kitchen. There was a huge stove and a pile of dishes next to a sink, along with tons of cabinets that were probably filled with food. There was also a boy there, my age if not slightly older, with his face in a cabinet, looking for food. Adriana hissed. “It’s him. The brat boy,” she growled and I placed a hand over the mirror.

He was wearing a black tuxedo that was covered in crumbs, and when he took his face out of the cabinet, a donut in hand, I saw his face. He had pale blue eyes and blond hair that was slightly mussed up but you could see had a little gel in it. He had a soft face and wasn’t smiling. “Hey,” I told him cheerily. Just because Adriana was a witch doesn’t mean I had to be.

He nodded in response. “Hello. You must be the girl that got attacked by the demons.” I nodded sheepishly. “You have the witch lady with you?” he asked, eyeing the mirror.

“Her name is Captain Adriana. She’s not a witch, either,” I told him, crossing my arms. He raised one eyebrow. “And I’m Vivien Diaz. You are?” I asked him, not liking him very much.