I bend over, vomiting stomach acid next to the Tranq's face. The forest spins and clouds in a haze as I stumble forward, slurring curse words. I bolt. Running and running. Hot, blinding tears dribble down my burning cheeks as I desperately try to drink in oxygen. I run until the forest gives way to the outskirts of the town and I gather my wits, slowing my pace to a brisk walk. When I arrive at Aston's cottage near the farms, he isn't home. He is working, of course.
"Will you tell Aston to meet me at my place after work?" I ask Madam Sallow, trying to steady my voice.
She narrows her wrinkled eyes and purses her thin lips. "Are you okay, Elle?"
"Right as rain." Tears burn my eyes anyway. But luckily, she doesn't press the matter.
I stumble into my apartment, collapsing onto the floor. Panic, at last, finds its home in me. It snakes its claws around my throat, digging deep into my flesh. I cannot breathe. I cannot move. My body tremors and splutters. My skin burns and I cry out at the blood staining my arms. The Tranq's blood.
I claw to the wooden tub and tip buckets of water into it. Muttering prayers to the Gods, I peel my tunic and trousers off and lower myself into the tub. I grab my sponge and a bar of unscented soap. The Tranq's unseeing, soulless eyes flash across my mind as I scrub the drying blood from my skin, and from under my nails. Thank the Gods, Lyra isn't home to see this.
Once I scrub myself raw, I hug my body to my knees. I blow out my cheeks, remembering the trick my father taught us when we felt our minds slipping from reality.
"My name is Elle Fallon," I mumble, staring at my toes. "I'm 18, and the water is cold. I can see the apartment building across the road, through the window. I can smell the mildew on the walls. I can hear footsteps in the stairwell. My sister is Lyra..."
I repeat this three times until tendrils of sanity creep back into my bones. With a whimper, I rise out of the tub and dress, anticipating Aston's arrival.
He arrives as the sun rises above the buildings, glaring into the apartment, reminding me it's almost time to head to training. Aston flops onto the couch with a floppy smile. But it drops as I tell him about what happened in the forest.
"You killed a Tranq!" Aston throws his arms into the air, the colour draining from his cheeks and his eyes glinting with fear. "Actually, two of them. You killed two Tranqs, Elle? Two?"
"I had no other choice," I snap, sawing the knife through a loaf of bread.
"We always have choices, Elle." He paces back and forth in my apartment, pausing at the window and gripping the ledge. His glare reflecting in the glass boils my blood, and I resist the urge to toss the loaf at the back of his head.
"The choice was them or me." My voice is rising in anger, and I saw the knife faster. "We both know they would have thrown me out of the city gates the first chance they got. As one of them said, the king would have a field day with me. Nothing like a starving lawbreaker to seize the town in fear again!"
A curse falls ragged from my mouth when the jagged blade of the bread knife slices into my finger. I yelp and stagger backwards, clutching my bleeding hand. He whirls around. Aston rolls his eyes at me.
"Serves you right," he mumbles, snatching a cloth from a wooden rail in the kitchenette. He wraps it around my finger as I fight the blurry, stinging tears.
"Will you help me bury the bodies?" My voice cracks as he squeezes. Blood infiltrates the cloth like maggots to a corpse.
Aston widens his eyes so much I fear they will roll right out of his head. "You're an even bigger idiot than I thought."
I grind my teeth, yanking my bleeding hand away. "Care to say something other than an insult?"
He shakes his head, twisting the faucet in the sink, gesturing to the running water. "We need to bury those bodies right away," he says, softening his harsh demeanour. I stick my bleeding finger under the stream. "It sounds like the Tranqs might have started patrol in the forest. If so, they will find the bodies in no time. Perhaps they have already found them."
"We bury them and never speak of it again," I say, staring at the red-tinted water swirling into the rusty drain.
"Fine."
Aston wraps my wound in another clean cloth. "Meet me after midnight tonight at the forest's edge. We can bury the bodies then."
We eat the slices of bread. It's dry, but I force it down, knowing my body needs every crumb.
I shoulder past Lyra who returns to the apartment, staggering, oh-so-slowly, up the creaking stairs But I don't so much as utter a greeting at her and exit the building, making my way to training for the day. But my stomach churns, struggling to digest the bread. I feel like a puppet as I move through the drills of training, glancing over my shoulder at the supervising Tranqs as if they are going to announce my crime to the entire fleet at any moment.
When we finally leave for the day, I wave to Aston as he heads towards his farms, and I begin the short trek back home. The smell of mould on the floorboards hits me as I enter our tiny apartment. Lyra sits on the tattered couch reading. She glances up. Her cheeks are puffy from crying. My cheeks burst hot with guilt. Pride ripples through me, wanting to tug me back into its net. But I shove myself out, putting it aside with a deep release of breath. I gather my thoughts, and school myself to act accordingly.
"I'm sorry for being horrible, Lyra," I say, trudging towards her, the floorboards protesting underfoot.
She places the book beside her and presses her lips together, the pink in her cheeks deepening, too. "You are right, Elle. You're the one who risks your neck every day to keep us alive. I'm going to see if I can pick up more shifts to help."
I chew the inside of my mouth. "But you said it yourself; your hands are too injured."
"There are other tasks I can do to help." She stands, padding into the kitchen and pouring tea from the pot. "I just made the brew. You could do with its healing properties."
I almost snort at her words as she hands me the steaming mug. But I keep my snarky thoughts buried and take a seat.
"Did you bring anything back from the forest?" she asks, pulling the window shutters tight. But there has always been a tiny gap in the window frame, anyway. The icy draft sings as it sneaks in.
"No. I'm sorry. The Tranqs were teeming by the forest entrance," I lie, cringing.
As I bring the cup to my lips, a rumble sounds from the stairwell in the building. Low and deep. A dozen footsteps, like an enraged, thundering beast. Lyra squeaks, backing against the window. A series of confused curse words tumble from my mouth as I jump up. The hammering noise increases in proximity and my pulse spikes. I grab my sword, planting my feet in front of her, holding the blade in a defensive stance. The candle lights dance and twirl in the blade's reflection. A flurry of Tranqs crash into the apartment and Lyra screams, sending my other hand flying to the dagger in my belt.
"Which one of you is Elle Fallon?" one Tranq bellows, his armour clanging through the apartment, ringing in my ears.
"What do you want?" I say through gritted teeth, spinning the hilt of my sword.
He pulls his helmet off and snarls. An older man with bronze, leathered skin, and greying hair. "With that cheek, you must be Elle Fallon."
"Yes. I'm Elle," I say, pushing the tip of the sword closer to his throat, revelling in the way the muscles in his neck flinch at the cold touch. I can feel Lyra's horrified eyes on me, silently begging me to stop committing yet another treason, holding a Tranq at blade point. But I focus on steeling myself and sending a glare contrived from the darkest shadows to this old, miserable man. "What are you doing in our home?"
"The prince has ordered your arrest," the Tranq says, tapping the butt of his staff onto the floorboards and Lyra flinches behind me.
"The prince?"
"Yes. You have reportedly committed a heinous crime. A crime punishable by exile into the madness. We have reports of a girl who has a deadly skill with knife throwing," he says, his words dripping poison.
"Rot in hell." I take a step forward. The apartment is so cramped that the tip of the blade meets his throat. My heart tries to rip from my chest. They found the bodies.
The Tranq sneers and the others chuckle. That's when a sharp pain explodes up my leg. A heaviness droops over my mind and my muscles drag towards the floorboards. My vision blurs. The room sways and my head lolls to the side as I collapse to the ground, darkness luring me into its bitter arms, all the while, my sister's scream echoes into the recesses of my subconscious.