Chapter 20* The Scarlet Berry
We are very quickly up and about, because Zoey says it is dangerous to be hanging around. We still need to devise a plan to talk to Gemini without getting eaten, and talk like civilized people, or gods, whatever. We’re going to attempt to capture him because Zoey says so. Even though I think it is the dumbest idea I have ever, ever heard.
I don’t say anything, though. I want to observe her, see what she does. She keeps watching me like she knows I’m watching her, so I do my best to pretend I’m not. But then again it’s kind of hard to control my anger when she kisses Sam with her eyes wide open, fixed on me.
“Kayla,” she would say. “Fetch that bowl of water?” And I fetched it. And dunked it all over her head. And then Sam pulled me aside and told me to please, please try to get along with Zoey and put aside past grievances to focus on the mission, and all I wanted to say was, “How would you feel if Jeremy was the one here?” But I kept my mouth shut, and didn’t nod or shake my head. I didn’t do anything. I just gave him a look and walked away.
We are currently sitting together ‘devising a plan’. Zoey, as usual, is doing all the talking.
“I know some poison plants around the cave,” she says. “I could mix them together. Nightshade, mushrooms… Enough to kill a human, but only to stun a god.”
“How are you going to sneak it into his food?” I point out.
“That’s the easy part,” she snaps. “First I need to find the plants.”
“We’ll help you,” Sam says immediately, always playing the good guy. When Zoey asked for a bottle of water, Sam started to get up, and then Zoey stopped him, saying that I could get it instead.
I stop. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” she says shrilly. “Get it. We’ll need it.”
“No, you get it.” That was it. This bitch was going down. A little bit of high school Kayla was back in the game.
“I’m busy!”
“Doing what?” I demand. “Snogging Sam and making me feel useless? Yeah, I can see how you’re busy with that.” My voice drips sarcasm. “Leave me alone. This is your plan. Get that bottle yourself.”
“Sam.” Zoey turns to Sam with a pout. “She’s being annoying.”
Raking a hand through his hair, Sam throws up his hands. “I’ll get the bottle. Stop fighting.” And he left.
Glaring at Zoey, I return to what I was doing before, which was nothing. She didn’t say a word either, but I could tell she was looking at me. And it sent chills skittering up and down my spine- because I know she is a liar and I don’t know what she is lying for. Obviously the nice girl act back at the resistance was an act, and now I didn’t know who she was. She was a stranger.
Sam comes back with the bottle and then it is time to leave. We pack our things and head for the tunnels. Zoey claims to know roughly where the plants are situated and she leads us there.
The walk there is full of potholes and slimy walls. Utterly disgusting. I try not to slip but once, when I did, Sam caught me around the waist, and even though I shrugged myself out of his embrace I didn’t miss the glare Zoey gave me. Her hand shifts towards her tunic, more jerks than a deliberate movement, and when she turns I catch a silvery glimpse of a sight that chills my blood. A dagger. Zoey was carrying a dagger. It occurred to me then that I might have to watch my back more carefully than I thought.
I keep an eye on her as we progress through the tunnel. I can practically sense the crushing weight of rock bearing down on me from above. Doing my best not to focus on the walls, I creep stealthily after Zoey. Suddenly, without warning, she comes to a stop and bends down and I almost run into her frilly ass.
I scowl. Obviously she did that on purpose. For her benefit, though, I decide to keep my hands fisted at my side and instead sidle closer for a look. Zoey is fingering a few insignificant ferns growing at a crack in the wall.
“What are those?” Sam murmurs.
“White-stag ferns,” she mutters. “Absolutely poisonous. It’ll kill you in three seconds flat.” And she pockets it. We go on.
We have only been walking a while when we come across a tiny hole in the ground. Sam nudges me out of the way before I can put a foot down and subsequently fall into the hole, but then Zoey halts and pulls out a long, metal tweezer like thing from her bag. Inserting it into the hole, she gropes around for a little while before giving a grunt and yanking the handles up. Out appears a long, rooty thing- a tiny shrub with miles of roots hanging down, covered with soil. Thick roots, too. She eyes it, and then quick as a flash nips it with her nails. A chunk of root falls out and Zoey chucks the rest over her shoulder.
“This is it. Stumbarg root. It has properties similar to snake venom… It will make your throat constrict and swell until, eventually, you are unable to breathe and die. Among other nasty things.” She gives an evil sort of smile and pockets that too.
We move on, collecting numerous different sorts of mushrooms and berries and ferns. I never knew caves could be so deadly. Finally, Zoey stops and sits on a ledge jutting out of the wall and pulls out a rock. I think it was a rock, because I didn’t get a glance before the whole thing lit up like a supernova, showering light around the small space.
“Remember this?” she said, twiddling the rock fondly. “A Riston Key. We used to use this when flashlights went out of fashion.”
I was blank for a moment and then I remembered. Flashlights had been used until around the year 2060- of course, sophisticated versions that did way more than just emit light- and then they had been replaced by Riston Keys which were basically rock-like things that gave off light according to how much you wanted, just by picking up on your brainwaves. And they could be put anywhere, anywhere you wanted at all. They hardly ever broke.
“Cool,” I murmur, feeling a pang of nostalgia.
“Come on,” Zoey mutters, and she digs out all the stuff in her pockets and spreads them on the ledge. Sam reaches to examine a scarlet berry and Zoey slaps his hand away.
“Don’t,” she says almost pleasantly, “touch that unless you want to get killed.” Meekly, Sam puts back his hand, and gives me an eye-roll when Zoey wasn’t looking. I can’t help but giggle and Zoey gives me a sharp glance.
“Oh, don’t get your pants in a wedgie,” I tell her, and blew a raspberry. Sam laughed, and Zoey glares at me with unveiled hatred.
“So,” she says without looking at either of us, “this should be pretty easy. All we need to do is get Gemini to eat these. And then, when he’s stunned for about five minutes, he should shrink back into human size. Then it’ll be a matter of subduing him and getting him to talk.”
“How do you know he’ll shrink back?”
“Rule of thumb,” she answers superiorly. “Gods always shrink back into their human forms when hurt, injured, or stunned. Most of them, anyway. Now shut up. We need to get a good night’s sleep to ready ourselves for tomorrow, which will be difficult enough with your yabbering.” And then she clears up the spread of poisoned delicacies and puts them safely in her tunic, kisses Sam goodnight, and falls asleep with her back to us.
“So, um, goodnight,” I tell Sam, scratching the back of my head awkwardly. I turn to lie down too, and then he calls my name.
“Kayla?”
“Yeah?” I reply without raising my head.
“I don’t know if this is working,” I think I heard him say, but then there is the unmistakable sound of him lying on the floor followed by deep, even breaths, and I know he is asleep. What does he think isn’t working? Me being with them? What does he mean? A sour taste fills my mouth and the damp air suddenly feels colder. Close your eyes, I tell myself. Don’t think about it. But it was kind of hard not to. And is it just me, or did the Riston Key flare a little bit brighter just then?
I yawn. I wasn’t so sure. I wasn’t so sure who my friends were anymore. I wasn’t so sure if Sam liked me anymore. I wasn’t so sure of anything anymore.
That night, I fell into a bitter sleep.
I am woken by a scream.
“Oh my god!” Zoey was shrieking. “Help! Kayla, wake up!”
Jerking upright, I turn, expecting to see her screaming her head off at a worm, but what I see is not that. In fact, I wish it were that, because what was waiting for me was a thousand times worse.
Sam. Lying on the floor. Gray as a storm cloud. Eyes wide open, foaming at the mouth. He wasn’t moving.
I can’t move, can’t speak. Can only stare.
Immediately, though, some of my training kicks in. Jeremy told me what to do in situations like these. Check for signs and look for an antidote. What any idiot would do, in essence. We’d joked about it. But there was nothing remotely funny now.
“Antidote,” I snap. Shifting closer, I examine his mouth, stained red at the sides. Not with blood. With berry juice.
The scarlet berry.
And then he convulses and I know we do not have much time left.
“Zoey!” My voice rings out, authoritative. “That red berry yesterday Sam was going to touch. How do we get the antidote? Is there an antidote?”
Sniffling, she wipes her eyes. “Yes. A plant. But I don’t know-”
“Do whatever you have to do!” I say. “Quick. Run. Get up!” She does and stands there, looking at me with huge eyes and quivering lips. A bit more shouting did the trick and she ran off.
Meanwhile, I kneel and compress Sam’s chest with my hands, performing CPR. An old trick my mother taught me- no one did it anymore. No one was likely to get into that kind of trouble with as much technology as we have now. Or… had.
I am doing it for a while when Zoey returns, feet clapping loudly on the ground. She is carrying a bunch of plants in her hands- thick, fat leaves and thin, brittle stems. Skidding to a stop and tears some leaves off and crushes them with her hands almost desperately. The Riston Key lies abandoned on the floor, glowing with an almost painful light.
“Water. Water!”
I slip my hand into Sam’s tunic and pull out the bottle of water. She feeds it into Sam’s mouth together with the crushed leaves. There is a single, heart-stopping moment in which we are both frozen, and then Sam stirs.
He sits up, propped up by Zoey, who gives him more water to spit out the foam. His eyes are bleary and glazed over with a milky film- but growing sharper by the minute. “What happened?” he asks. “Who did this to me?”
“I don’t know,” I start to say, and then Zoey gives a perfectly-timed gasp.
“Your fingers, Kayla.”
I look down. My fingertips were stained scarlet. Confused, I look up- only to find Zoey holding out the crushed remains of the berry. The scarlet berry. Deadly poisonous. And that would only mean…
“You think I did this,” I whisper, looking from Sam to her. Back and forth. Her eyes are accusing, his are puzzled. Perplexed.
“Why would you, Kayla?” he asks.
“But I didn’t!” I cried. “Sam, I swear I didn’t.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, and I can tell he means it. He truly believes I didn’t do it on purpose and he is forgiving me. But he doesn’t think I didn’t do it. His next words all but confirm it.
“You were probably sleepwalking or something. Come on, Kayla. I know you could never do that to me.”
“You’re right,” I whisper, my voice scratchy. “I could never do that to you.” Some part of me doubts- could it be that I had really been sleepwalking? Could I have, still wrapped in the clutches of sleep, tried to murder the man I’d gone through fire and ice with? It wasn’t likely, because I knew I didn’t sleepwalk. But it was plausible.
And yet, when Zoey gave me a look of burning hatred, I looked into her tunic, what I saw wasn’t another fold of cloth but instead the tip of her dagger, glinting scarlet in the fading light.
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Hi, okay so first of all I'm so totally sorry that I didn't upload in so long. I'll do my best not to make you guys wait for so long anymore! I hope I intensified your hate for Zoey. And I hope some of you are on Team Sam.
Team Sam or Team Jeremy? Love to hear your thoughts. :)
xoxoxo Abigail