The Reader - Chapter 8

Chapter 8 

The group had took pity on the horses whose riders were now slaughtered. There were six of them total so they took three of the horses and let the weaker ones at the camp. 

Clara, with her incredibly soft heart, would not stand for the horses being subject to anything relatively “inhumane” and for that reason all of the steeds had to be untied and let free. 

Emmeline and Newt chose a dark horse which Emmeline named Void because of the darkness. Clara and Coral chose a white one - and Clara named it Angel. Forrest and Beckett picked a spotted brown horse. Beckett ended up name it Rusty Bob because he wanted the horse to feel special. 

The horses could carry a majority of the supplies and they travelled faster. 

By midnight the horses had reached a small hill overlooking a tiny settlement. It was far wider than it was to simply pass through. It would add a day to their travel time to go around the settlement based on the looks. 

“We’ll have to ride through the village,” Newt decided. 

“That’s a risk,” Emmeline commented. “Not just because we’re kids travelling alone but maybe because we’re fugitives.” 

“It’s a risk we have to take,” Newt shrugged. ‘We have to get to Layene as soon as possible.” 

Emmeline agreed with his logic but she wasn’t entirely happy about heading through the village. What if someone found out her identity? Surely she would be killed on the spot, or at least captured. 

Master Zoro had taken the circus through a village only a few times. Most of the times he avoided them. Emmeline had accidentally read someone on her last visit to one. All it took was one person with all of their markings exposed. If Emmeline bumped into one of them she was gone - their Reading would happen whether she wanted it to or not. 

However, Emmeline did not voice her concerns. She pulled her tunic sleeves further over her arms and hoped that everyone in the village would ignore them. 

“Let’s take a back road,” Coral suggested. Emmeline couldn’t tell if the other girl had noticed her discomfort, but she was thankful nevertheless. “The soldiers might be patrolling them if they’re smart, but I can’t see King Gray the Whatever-The-Number-Now posting soldiers in every tiny village across the kingdom.” 

“The horses won’t be able to fit well down those roads,” Forrest pointed out. “If we want to take them with us we’ll have to take the main roads.” 

“The horses do cut time off our journey,” Newt admitted. “And they help with the burden. I vote that we take the horses through the main roads. We can disguise ourselves and pass through quickly.” 

“I vote we take the back roads,” Coral argued. “The horses might be able to fit through and no disguises will fool everyone.” 

“I want to walk through the main part,” Clara said, crossing her arms. “We will have options to buy and sell. Besides - if we take the main roads we also have our horses to run away with if the need arises.” 

“I agree with Clara and Newt,” Forrest said at last. “We need the horses.” 

“I can’t leave Rusty Bob,” Beckett sighed. “The back roads will also take longer to pass through.” 

“Emmeline?” Newt asked, turning around on Void to see her expression. 

“I don’t want to do this,” Emmeline whispered. “I should have just stayed at the circus.” 

“If you hadn’t left I would probably be dead or maimed,” Beckett said with a sneer. 

“Yes, but now look at all the trials and the hardships we have to face,” Emmeline protested. “We can’t even cross a stupid village without arguing over which route is riskier. We still have to travel to Layene, find this super old mystery person, and save the world. I’m sure there will be other quests we have to do on the way.” 

“Majority rules, we’re taking the streets,” Clara interjected, sending Emmeline a small smile. “Look, we’ve made it this far, haven’t we? Just take it one step at a time - next we just have to get through the village. What could go wrong?” 

“I really wish you wouldn’t have said that,” Newt mumbled as he prodded Void onwards. “Everything always goes wrong when you say that. 

Emmeline’s quiver shook on her back as she pulled the sleeves of her tunic down as far as they would go. The hood of her cloak covered her head and her bow and sword were strapped to her as well. Newt was leading Void, his hood pulled over his head in a similar fashion. They had decided it was the best way to hide their faces. 

Traders and other travellers normally wore similar outfits that covered their features. Beckett and the others also tried disguises but to no avail. 

Forrest’s dark skin was noticeable among the pale skin of most of the villagers. Coral, Clara, and Beckett were too short to be traders. Their hoods covered their faces well enough but their height was definitely noticeable. 

Emmeline felt her muscles tense in anticipation of something to go wrong. For them to walk through the town virtually unharmed and spotted by no one would be nearly impossible. 

The fronts of the houses were all very colorful compared to the other villages Emmeline had seen. The sun was just beginning to rise and the people were once again waking up. However this village was in Zachryose which meant plant related products. Which meant harvest season had begun. 

Each house had a small garden growing in front of it, flowers and bushes budding fruit. The entire village seemed to be awake and … happy. 

Emmeline focused on stepping one foot in front of the other. In, out. In, out. She forced her breathing to slow and lowered her head, tugging at her hood once again. She felt sick to her stomach when she saw that most of the guys weren’t wearing shirts. Their backs were exposed, their skin raw and red. But there were so many markings. 

Newt grabbed her hand and squeezed it once, but Emmeline pulled away, holding her hands to her chest. One wrong move and everything would be… 

“Hello, can I help you?” Emmeline winced as she looked up and saw an older boy staring down at her. His skin was peeling like everyone else and he was wearing a straw hat that casts shadows over his broad smile. 

“We’re fine, thanks,” Newt said, letting a hint of smugness seep into his voice. “Just passing through.” 

The boy shrugged. “Traders I see? Did you need any produce? Our village specializes in oranges and peaches, also…” Forrest drew his sword and the boy fell quiet, staring at the metal point at the tip of his throat. 

“We’re just passing through,” Forrest growled and the boy backed away. “Now if you’ll please excuse us, we have a schedule to stick to. I’d hate to be late because of a murder.” The boy gulped. 

“Nice partners you picked,” the boy mumbled to Emmeline as he began to walk away. Emmeline didn’t answer, she kept her gaze focused on the ground. “Hello? I’m talking to you.” He went to grab her shoulder and immediately Emmeline stumbled. He was missing a shirt and she could see all of his markings… 

A young freckled boy playing in a stream. The plants are growing towards him, growing around his ankles and wrists. “Don’t go too far!” his mother calls to him. The boy nods and begins to stride into the deeper parts of the stream. The plants around his wrists and ankles tightened. Suddenly, the bank drop off into rushing rapids. The boy is swept into the stream, he can’t get to the surface and he’s running out of air. The plants begin to pull him to shore. “Saved by the goddess,” his mother mumbles as she pulls him out of the mud. She doesn’t see the greenish figure behind her. 

The same boy is older now, he’s planting in the fields. Just as he reaches out his hands to begin growing one of the weaker plants he feels a hand on his shoulder. He spins around to see a blonde girl about his age. “Your mother is dead,” the girl says, her mouth wobbling. “The traders got a hold of her and wanted fruits but she didn’t offer them soon enough.” The boy nods, choking back his sob. He refocuses on the bush and the girl grabs him by the shoulders again. The boy spins around again and the girl pulls him to her. Their lips meet and the boy is pulled into a kiss. Him and the girl tumble to the ground, falling into the soil. 

The boy is walking through a small village. He notices a crowd has gathered. Just as he pushes his way through to see what the crowd is seeing, he feels something impale him straight in the throat. The boy screams once and the sound dies in his throat as darkness sweeps over him. 

Emmeline stumbled backwards into Newt’s waiting arms. The boy was leaning against a building, his arms pulled in to his chest, sweat pouring down his face. 

“We need to go,” Emmeline whispered to Newt. 

“It’s too late for that,” Newt mumbled back and Emmeline saw what he meant. They were completely surrounded by villagers now approaching. Emmeline noticed that her hood had fallen down to reveal her face. Her sleeves had been rolled up as well, showing her bare arms. The people were silent. 

“A Reader,” one of the villagers gasped at last. 

“She’s the one we were warned about,” another replied, holding a pitchfork pointed at her. 

“The one that betrayed both of the kingdoms?” 

“She lied to two soldiers from the Green Kingdom!” 

“Kill her!” 

“Stop!” Beckett shouted, throwing back his hood. The crowd shifted uneasily until they saw he was only a boy. “I am Prince of both the Green and Silver Kingdoms - therefore I am more powerful than any of you. I command you to leave the Reader and her travellers alone.” 

“Why should we believe you?” a villager yelled at him. 

Beckett held up his hand, displaying a ring with a large teal jewel set in the center. “Do you recognize this?” He smirked as the villagers gasped at the ring. 

“You stole that from the king!” one of the villagers declared as they noticed the ring. Emmeline realized it was the ring that had been passed down many generations in the family of the Green Kingdom. But how did Beckett get a hold of it? And what did he mean by being a prince? Emmeline would interrogate him later. 

“Thief!” someone called out. 

“Traitor!” another declared. Beckett shrunk back, obviously defeated. He tucked the ring back into his cloak.
The crowd began to advance forward, their weapons levelled. 

Emmeline didn’t have time for hesitation. She whipped the bow off her back and placed an arrow on the string. Her fingers found their spots and she aimed the bow at the crowd. “Don’t come closer or I shoot,” Emmeline said, trying to make herself sound fierce.

“Emmeline, what are you doing?” Newt hissed. “You’re going to get us all killed.” 

To be honest, Emmeline had no idea what she was thinking. One arrow would not stop a crowd of villagers - especially angry ones. If she killed one they would only become more hostile. 

But surprisingly the villagers backed away and Emmeline relaxed her grip on the bow string a bit. She had no idea how to aim, much less how much power she needed to use to shoot the bow. But she kept the weapon pointed at the people in the crowed, shifting it around so that every person had been pointed at. Her heart was beating like crazy now. 

“Let us go in peace or we’ll kill all of you,” Emmeline threatened. It was an empty threat. She couldn’t guarantee her group could overcome the many people in front of them. 

The people glanced around uneasily at each other. 

“We can take them! What are six children going to do to us?” one of the villagers shouted. There was a chorus of “of course’s” and other phrases of agreement. Emmeline tensed again, pulling back the bowstring. She should have known they wouldn’t get out of the situation that easily. 

Someone charged at her and Emmeline wheeled around and shot the arrow without thinking. 

Time seemed to slow as Emmeline’s arrow flew through the air and pierced the skin of one of the villagers. She heard the screams of shock and the singular scream of pain as the arrow came to a stop in the neck of the boy she had accidentally Read. 

Emmeline froze. Her Reading had shown this, hadn’t it? 

The boy fell to ground, writhing in pain before he stilled, bloody hands grasping at the arrow embedded in his throat. 

“Echo,” Newt whispered. Emmeline hadn’t realized how much she missed the nickname. But it didn’t change the fact that it was her arrow that had found its spot in the boy’s throat. 

Emmeline fled the scene. Her tears streamed down her face as she ran. Her feet hit the ground harder and sobs racked her chest. She wiped her nose and kept running. 

Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. The word was a chant in her head, it bounced around her brain. And her thoughts were right. She had just killed a boy - whether accident or not. And George was dead too, by her friend’s hand. 

Emmeline reached the edge of the village and the border of a small orchard. She fell to her knees in the soil, rubbing at her eyes as she sobbed. 

Please, please, help the boy have a good place in wherever dead people go, Emmeline prayed. She knew that Dixral would not necessarily answer her prayer, but she wanted to try anyways. Or better yet, end my suffering and let the boy live. 

“Emmeline!” She stopped mid-prayer as the voice sliced through her thoughts. It was Beckett, his own eyes red. He was rubbing the ring on his finger - Emmeline noticed it was far too big. 

“Please just go away,” Emmeline begged, turning her face so he couldn’t see it. 

“Echo?” Beckett tried and Emmeline looked up at him. 

“Don’t call me that,” she whispered. “Don’t call me Echo. Just go away and leave me to die here alone.” 

“It’s not your fault…” 

“Of course it is! It was my arrow, Beckett! I killed him.” 

“Emmeline, the villagers are going to come and find you. They won’t just put you out of your misery, they’ll burn you, hang you, but they’ll keep you alive for as long as they can.” Beckett fell silent and Emmeline knew he was right. 

The villagers would be livid. Torture was no way to die, and as much as Emmeline was scared to admit it, a painful death was one of her greatest fears. 

Emmeline glanced down at the ring on Beckett’s finger again. “You’ll tell me what you meant by being a prince?” She knew it was a flimsy deal, and Beckett would probably tell her even if there wasn’t a deal. But it made her feel better to at least pretend she had been strong enough to make a deal. 

“Fine,” Beckett said with a small smile. “But please don’t kill me too.” 

Emmeline didn’t laugh. 

Although Emmeline had no intentions of murdering anyone else, her friends still kept their distance as they climbed onto the horses. 

It was still a long ride to Layene and Emmeline couldn’t help but feel guilty. Not only was she a fugitive for treason, but her and her friends had just murdered an entire camp of soldiers plus the boy in the village. Everyone would be looking for them. 

They rode all day until Forrest announced that they had reached the border of Maconia and Layene. Newt decided that it was time to rest and set up camp, and Emmeline couldn’t agree more. She ignored everyone as they laid out their blankets and started a smile fire with the matches they had scavenged. 

She was almost asleep when she remembered Beckett’s promise to explain what he meant by saying he was a prince. 

“Beckett,” Emmeline called, sitting up slowly. “Can you explain the prince thing?” 

Emmeline could see Beckett’s silhouette nod as he walked into the firelight and took a seat next to Clara. “It’s kind of a long story,” he said. When no one stopped him he began to explain. “I woke up a few days ago and it felt like I had been in a dream forever. There was a small blanket on me and I was wearing nothing. Smaller clothes were on the floor beside me, next to several piles of larger clothing. I searched through until I found a tunic that fit. 

“By then I was extremely hungry so I went to search for some food. I ran into a group of soldiers who grabbed me the second they saw me and drugged me with some random flower.” Beckett stared at the ground, consumed in his story. Emmeline wasn’t quite sure what he was talking about. 

“While I was asleep I began to have these … visions. There were white ghosts of people slipping in and out of my dreams. I didn’t recognize any of them, but there were two that kept coming back again and again. I finally asked them who they were, but the people wouldn’t talk.” Beckett dragged his hand across the dirt on the ground, forming small circular patterns. Emmeline waited for him to continue. “I don’t know how it happened - but all of the sudden I just knew. I knew what the two people wanted to say and what some of my past was. 

“The two people were my parents - King Rook and Princess Persephone of the Green and Silver Kingdoms respectively. My mother hid me away in the Temple of Purity for 110 years before I woke up,” he paused like this was all too much for him. Maybe it was. 

“Weren’t Persephone and Rook traitors to the Kingdoms?” Forrest asked, wrinkling his nose. “I once heard that they had a secret house in the Crossover Forest where they met.” 

“Like the weird room we visited,” Clara gasped. “I’ll bet my buttons that the room belonged to Persephone and Rook.” Emmeline had to agree. The rich fabrics and the cloth was so expensive it had to belong to royals. 

“I’m the heir to both kingdoms,” Beckett continued. “The Temple was only supposed to release me from its spell when one of the kingdoms needed an heir. But I heard the guards talking - King Gray can’t have children and he has fallen ill. King Dee of the Silver Kingdom has no wife and has recently recieved a nearly fatal injury. Both need an heir and I’m their only one, technically speaking.” 

“Which is why you would start a war,” Emmeline connected, breathing deeply. “Both kingdoms need an heir - you’re the only one. They would fight for you instead of uniting because both are hostile to each other.” 

“Not only that,” Beckett added. “But supposedly I have a secret ancient magic of some sort that’s really powerful. It’s like a Blessing but from all of the Goddesses.” 

Emmeline sighed. Beckett’s declaration was heartening because of the information it gave, but it also made life more challenging. Now they had to worry about being fugitives, rogue goddesses, and Beckett’s possibility of being king and starting a war. 

“Well on that note, I’m going to bed,” Newt decided. “There’s no use in debating all night when we’re exhausted. We have a long way yet to go, so let’s get some sleep.” 

Emmeline couldn’t agree more. Her eyelids drooped with exhaustion and she felt herself sink to the blanket. Beckett didn’t say anymore, but he did lay down just after Emmeline did. Emmeline felt secure and safe. 

Despite the dark shadows of the forest, she knew her friends would all protect her. 

And with that Emmeline sank into the visions that always consumed her as she slept. The boy she had skewered with the arrow joined the mix. 

Murderer.