The Reader - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

Emmeline continued running, even though she could feel warm blood dripping down her arm. She didn’t turn to look, didn’t turn to see if she was dying. She kept running, and soon Newt took the lead. 

The forest was ahead and it didn’t take long for Newt and Emmeline to disappear into the trees. When the soft thumps of footsteps faded away, Emmeline slowed to a stop, her vision blurry with either tears or blood loss. The pain was overwhelming, and Emmeline was willing to surrender to it until Newt’s voice woke her out of it. 

“Echo? Echo, you’re bleeding!” Newt cried out. Shock registered on his face and he reached for her as her knees buckled. 

Emmeline wanted to vomit. She wanted to cry out and tell Newt it hurt. She wanted to the pain to stop. She could feel the tendrils of pain as they wrapped around her brain and pulled. Everything hurt. 

“Stay still,” Newt ordered and Emmeline did her best to control her shaking limbs. Tears were blurring the world to the point that she couldn’t see anything. 

There was another spiral of pain that shot down her arm but it soon subsided and Emmeline was able to wipe her eyes enough to see. Newt was kneeling in front of her, he had propped her up against a rock. The ground was moist and covered in pine needles, and Emmeline shivered in the mist. 

“It was a knife,” Newt explained, gesturing to a tiny metal blade lying on the ground. The blood on the silver made Emmeline dizzy. “They must’ve thrown it, but it hit your arm.” 

“It hurts,” Emmeline whimpered. Newt nodded, looking away. 

Emmeline wanted to cry but she needed to be strong. Newt already didn’t think she could protect herself. But a stray tear leaked down her cheek and Emmeline couldn’t help herself. The waterfalls flowed down her face, washing off the dirt and grime. 

Instead of laughing or saying “I told you so” - which Emmeline would’ve expected from confident Newt - the boy bent over and pulled a small fruit from the bag. 

He held it out to Emmeline, who accepted without a word. The fruit was bitter, yet within moments the pain dulled to a weak throb. Newt ripped off part of his cloak and wrapped it around her arm where the wound was. 

When she had finished the entire fruit, Emmeline’s pain was nearly gone. It wouldn’t heal the wound, but it would make the pain more manageable. 

“Ready to tell me what’s going on?” Newt asked her after she had wiped her mouth clean. “Why I feel like crap and why all of the sudden we’re being chased by every villager in the surrounding kingdoms. 

Emmeline shrugged. Part of her wanted to keep her conversation with Dixral a secret, especially since she said Newt was hiding things. 

But hiding things from Newt didn’t sit right with Emmeline so she sighed before beginning. “Last night I woke and you were sitting on the side of your bed. Long story short; Dixral possessed you and we had a nice talk where she basically told me that no matter what we do there will be a war, even among the Goddesses. You nearly died because you were fighting against her. When I was sure you were alive I went back to sleep. The end.” 

Newt paused for a moment. “So the Goddess of Death possessed me and basically told you we’re all gonna die.” 

Emmeline shrugged. He had summarized it pretty well. 

“So,” Newt continued. “Why exactly are we on the run?” 

“Remember how I said I lied to the soldiers about the Reading?” Newt nodded. “Well apparently they found out I was lying and they’re sending out villagers to find me and capture me so I can be charged with treason.” 

It was like a tremendous load had been lifted off her shoulders. 

Newt was quiet for a moment. “We need to keep moving. I know you’re hurt and all, but Ibenily might be able to help with that too.” 

“If we don’t get caught by villagers first,” Emmeline mumbled. And with that they continued on their journey. 

It was noon before the forest ended and revealed large fields of wheat. The sun was warm - warmer than warm in Emmeline’s opinion. Sweat dripped down her back, and Newt’s entire head seemed coated in sweat. 

Her feet begged for rest and her arm throbbed with every step.

But every step brought her closer to the Library of Knowledge. Every step brought her closer to the boy. 

Hunger knawed at her stomach but Newt continued marching through the fields. The lack of conversation gave Emmeline time to think. But it also gave the visions time to overwhelm her. She fought them off, but it took more energy than she wanted to expend. 

The poor boy was out there somewhere, all alone. Maybe he was dead. Emmeline couldn’t be sure. 

The only thing she knew for sure was that she would keep walking. A treeline wasn’t far ahead, and that would grant them the safety of shade and darkness. Emmeline rolled up the sleeves on her tunic to allow for the breeze to cool her. 

There was a shift in the breeze and it blew Emmeline’s hair back behind her. 

And with the shift of the wind came a whisper of sound that made Emmeline freeze in her tracks. “We’re not alone,” she called out to Newt. 

He stopped at once, turning to look at her and opened his mouth as if to say something. 

Instead, several figures popped out of the wheat field, wooden crossbows in their arms. A few held normal bows and one or two were carrying swords as well. 

Emmeline’s heart leapt and her eyes widened as the figures forced her and Newt back to back. Was this the villagers or the traders? She couldn’t tell - all of the figures were wearing golden masks the color of the wheat. 

“I’m Newt and this is Echo,” Newt began, voice quavering. “We just want to pass through. We wish you no harm.” 

“She is a Reader,” one of the taller figures announced in a distinctly feminine voice. “Her arms tell no story because she tells the stories of others.” 

“I am a Reader,” Emmeline admitted, wishing she hadn’t rolled up her sleeves. 

The figure in the mask lowered her crossbow. “Follow us, we are in need of your services. And we’ll return a favor.” 

“How do we know they’re not trying to lure us into the arms of the soldiers?” Newt whispered into Emmeline’s ear as crossbows were pointed at their backs and the tallest figure lead them. 

“We don’t,” Emmeline mumbled back. 

Who knew being a Reader would be good for something? If, of course, these people were there to help them instead of hurt them. 

“So, who exactly are…” Newt began but he was cut off as he crumpled to the ground. A smaller masked figure tossed a rock behind them, looking very guilty in Emmeline’s opinion. She clenched her fists. 

“What was that for?” Emmeline asked, face flushing. “He didn’t attack you.” 

“Silence,” the first figure ordered. “We’ll explain when we get there. But he’ll be fine - we just want to talk alone.” 

Emmeline kept quiet. She didn’t want to anger these mysterious folk - whoever they were. They had knocked Newt out with one hit, she was sure they would end her if she made any move against them. 

The cover of the trees provided less shade than Emmeline had been expecting. And with a crossbow at her back, every move made her jump. 

“Just ahead,” the first figure told her. Another person was carrying Newt liked he was a ragdoll, a thin stream of blood trickling down the boy’s temple. The person seemed immune to the extra weight of the satchels. 

Emmeline was tied down against a tree, the ropes biting into her skin. Luckily, her captors had avoided her wound, which gave her the comfort of knowing they weren’t murderers. The figures removed their masks once Newt was secured too and Emmeline realized they weren’t all related. 

Each person had different features - although a few looked like siblings. There were about fifteen total, each wearing shades of gold and green and brown like the forest and the field. The tallest figure was by far the oldest, a woman in her mid-twenties. 

Dark hair cascaded down her shoulders and her bright eyes bored into Emmeline’s chest. “You’re really a Reader?” 

“What else would I be? A fraud?” Emmeline spat, trying to summon some of Newt’s sarcasm. “Who are you and what do you want with us?” 

“We’re the ones asking questions,” the woman snarled, but a small smile appeared on her face. “Besides, there will be plenty of time for talk once we decide you’re trustworthy enough. So tell me, who is the boy and from where does he come?” 

Emmeline glanced at the unconscious Newt. The heated debate of telling the truth or lying raged inside her. 

“This is Newt, he’s a Cursed or a Blessed (we don’t know which) from Dinrali,” Emmeline explained quietly. Hopefully Newt would forgive her for giving away such information to strangers. 

“And you?” the woman asked, inspecting her nails. 

“I’m Emmeline - Echo to some,” Emmeline explained. “I don’t come from anywhere.” 

A smaller girl stepped up to the woman, who bent as the child whispered in her ears. “Echo from Master Zoro’s Travelling Circus?” 

Emmeline nodded and the woman laughed. “We call him Master Zero here. Zero for the zero talent he has in his show. But that’s besides the point. We need a favor, and in turn we might be able to help you.” 

“Who are you?” Emmeline rolled her eyes. 

The woman merely laughed, a sound that was almost pixie-like. “Did you hear that, friends? She wants to know who we are!” The other people cheered in a way that made Emmeline feel like an animal on display. 

Then the woman turned back to Emmeline, a softness in her eyes. “I am Gwen, Master Trailblazer, Leader of the Sprite Hunters, and a child of Layenyl.” 

The words registered in Emmeline’s head and confusion filled her. “No one is a child of a Goddess.” Emmeline pointed out. Gwen shrugged, rolling up her sleeves to reveal rippling muscles along her arms. Layenyl was the Goddess of Strength, which seemed to fit with Gwen’s statement. 

“I’m not really her child, per say,” Gwen shrugged. “More of a Blessed. But not everyone here is so fortunate.” 

“You still haven’t answered my questions,” Emmeline noted. 

Gwen tutted. “Clearly you have much to learn, Echo. But we need you to Read someone for us.” 

“You already said that,” Emmeline grumbled. 

Gwen rolled her eyes, seemingly mocking Emmeline’s impatience. The woman whistled once and several of the others appeared from the bushes carrying a limp body between them. 

It was a girl, her face pale and her lips blue. Emmeline felt sick when she saw the greenish tinge that the girl’s veins were. “What is wrong with her?” she asked before she could stop herself. 

“This is Clara,” Gwen said, stroking the girl’s curly red hair that framed her face. “As for what’s wrong with her? We were hoping a Reader could find that out.” 

“How can I find out?” Emmeline asked. 

“You can Read the past, the present, and the future. So you can tell use what she ate that made her like this,” Gwen explained. 

Emmeline’s ropes loosened and she realized someone was untying her. The people carrying Clara lowered her to the ground and a trickle of bloody spit dribbled from the side of the girl’s mouth as her chest rose and fell in slow succession. 

Emmeline stood, stretching her stiff muscles. “You want me to Read Clara and find out what she ate?” 

Gwen nodded. “That’s it.” 

“But my Readings don’t work like that,” Emmeline protested. “I see random bits on information, I can’t choose what I see.” 

“Try, please,” Gwen begged and for the first time a note of depeseration coated her voice. Emmeline still felt sick as she nodded and Gwen lifted the girl and flipped her over, lowering the back of her shirt so the girl’s markings were visible. 

Clara didn’t stir, and Emmeline kneeled on the ground next to her. 

It felt weird not knowing anything about the subject before hand, but there was a thrill of excitement as Emmeline gently brushed the girl’s back with her fingers. Instantly, the visions took hold of her. 

A tiny girl, born to a family already too large. Three brothers and six sisters circle around the child, all sporting flaming red hair and large hazel eyes. “It’s too much,” the mother says quietly. “We’ll have to let her go - and pray that Elyviella will take care of her.” And with that the mother places the child in the basket and the basket into the River of Life. 

A face, looking down at a tiny child. The face belongs to a older teen, and the teen looks trustworthy. The child grabs the outstretched hand and holds it tight. 

A young girl, maybe ten or eleven, is standing in a meadow. The flowers surrounding her seem to call out to her - courtesy of the hidden child in the trees. She knows the child is around somewhere, but she doesn’t know exactly where. “Johnny?” she calls out. “Johnny?” She searches the grass and the flowers and the trees but the boy called Johnny seems to have disappeared into think air. What she doesn’t find is the bloody body on the ground, an arrow through the neck. The soldiers have found her. 

The girl dashes into the forest, the same age as before. She can see the flashes of silver in the dark foliage. They are gaining on her, and the girl knows they will catch her. They will interrogate her. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the tiny flower she has been saving since the day in the meadow when Johnny disappeared. They still haven’t found him, and the game of hide and seek seems to be going on forever. The girl shoves the flower into her mouth, ignoring the terrible taste. Her knees become weak and her body falls. The soldiers find her as her eyes begin to close. “Useless,” they say. “Useless.” The world goes dark. 

A field of blood, the river beside it red. The girl is crying over the fallen, her own wounds healing abnormally quickly. “Why?” she cries out. “Why couldn’t it be me?” The clouds above her rumble but nothing happens. The dead stay dead and the girl stays alive. The clouds rumble again and a feminine voice speaks directly into the girl’s head. “This is war, my child. There is no escape from the violence that consumes all. You may have my Blessing but the others do not. Flee and spare yourself.” The girl shakes her head, wiggling a certain finger at the clouds. “I can’t just abandon them like that. Beckett is in the castle with them and he needs my help.” The clouds rumble again, though this time it seems like that disprove of her. “My child, you wish to risk this all for the Prince that started the war?” The girl nods and the clouds fall silent. She has made her choice. She will save… 

The vision cut off and Emmeline jerked back to reality, falling away from Clara. 

“Did you find out?” Gwen asked from above, her features blurry. “Did you…” the woman paused like she was inspecting something. “What’s going on with yout arm?” 

Well that broke Emmeline out of her dizzy spell as she checked her wound from the knife. Was it bleeding more? Or maybe it was infected, and she was dying. But neither of those things had happened - the wound was … gone! 

“Is Clara a Blessed from Elyviel?” Emmeline asked breathlessly, the white scar on her arm slowly fading as well. 

Gwen nodded, tears in her eyes. “So she’s alive? What did you discover?” 

“Ever heard of a Death Daisy?” Emmeline asked, remembering the pink blossom she had seen in her dreams. Gwen gasped and her eyes grew wide. “The Silver Kingdom had found her so she ate the blossoms as to appear dead. Her Blessing saved her.” 

Emmeline decided not to add that she had seen a bloody battlefield or Clara’s game with Johnny. Instead, she remained quiet as Gwen called for a small boy named Benny. The boy bent to the ground and began to grow a small bush covered in blue berries. Gwen picked one and popped it into Clara’s mouth, forcing the girl to swallow. 

Clara sputtered awake, her hazel eyes opening wide as she began to cough. Emmeline looked away as pink vomit spilled from the girl’s mouth relentlessly. 

“Where … am I?” Clara coughed, her voice high and musical. “What’s happening?” 

“Clara, baby, you’re awake,” Gwen laughed, wrapping her arms around the smaller girl and stroking her fiery hair. “Do you remember anything?” 

Clara nodded and turned to point at Emmeline, who paled. How did Clara know who she was? “I have seen those eyes before, but I do not recall where. Who is she? A new recruit, perhaps?” 

“No,” Gwen said softly. “She’s just passing by.” 

Emmeline smiled at Gwen, just as Newt began to cough as well. He groaned, rubbing his head from the spot he had been laid on the ground. “Emmeline? Are you okay? Where are we?” 

Emmeline had to laugh at his torrent of questions, but she noted that he had called her Emmeline again instead of Echo. Instead of answering him, she turned back to Clara, who was easing herself into a sitting position. “Clara, how do you feel?” 

“Fine,” the girl shrugged. “It was you who saved me, wasn’t it?” Emmeline couldn’t help but nod. “Then wherever you go, I shall follow because I can never repay you for saving my life.” 

“You healed me,” Emmeline told the girl, pointing at her arm. Newt’s eyes widened at the bare skin, and Clara’s did as well - but for different reasons. 

“You are a Reader.” It wasn’t a question. “Then I am even more indebted to you. I feel great things will come if I follow behind you. Would you mind a tagalong?” Clara got to her feet, swaying a bit but steadying herself quickly. 

“First, Clara, we need to figure out where Echo is even going? I don’t know what she plans to do, and I don’t want to risk your safety.” Gwen turned to Emmeline like she was expecting an answer. As much as Emmeline didn’t want to tell all of these Sprite Hunters or whatever they called themselves, she knew they might be able to help her. 

“We’re going to the Library of Knowledge,” Emmeline explained, ignoring the terrified glances from Newt. “We seek Ibenily because I Read a small boy and his future was only death and war and blood. I saw similar things with Clara before I was yanked out. I need to find the boy before any harm comes to him. Ibenily will know where he is.” 

“Then I will accompany you,” Clara informed her. 

“You’re eleven!” Newt cried in outrage. “We can’t bring a child with us.” 

“I’m twelve and a half,” Clara wrinkled her nose. “Besides, you don’t look nearly old enough to be out on your own either.” 

Newt stuck out his tongue at her and Clara giggled, but Emmeline spotted Newt’s smile. At least he and Clara weren’t totally fighting. 

“Well, if Clara insists on going I’m sending two others as well,” Gwen decided. “I’ll figure it out over lunch. Are you two hungry? You looked famished.” Gwen smiled when Newt licked his lips and Emmeline couldn’t help but roll her eyes. 

“Please,” Emmeline smiled. 

“This way, friends,” Gwen replied. She lead them through the dense foliage, weaving in and out of trees. The others followed her, including Clara who stumbled over a good amount of rocks. Newt wasn’t exactly steady either, and he gripped Emmeline’s hand tightly. 

Gwen lead them to a rocky outcropping and a small cave, the entrance obscured by vines and leaves. She pushed the curtain aside, revealing a well lit tunnel. 

The stony walls were smooth, Emmeline wondered if maybe this had been a temple previously. It was a possibility - several temples had been left abandoned in the forests all around the kingdoms. 

But before they could get far into the tunnels, there was a sound of voices. Gwen froze, and immediately she shoved Clara towards Emmeline and Newt. “Find Coral and Forrest, tell them to pack quickly and then I need you to run. Don’t worry about us at all - just go.” She pushed Emmeline and Newt too, forcing them down the halls. “Don’t worry.”

“We’ve got company,” one of the soldiers shouted.