The Reader - Chapter 20

Chapter 20 

It seemed like Emmeline would fall to her death and that would be the end of everything. But just as she was about to hit the ground she felt something snap in her chest. 

It was like a pressure was released from inside of her. Emmeline felt herself stop abruptly in the air. Dark threads of what had to be magic weaved themselves around her whole body, forcing her to hover in the air about five feet off the ground. 

This had to be the magic Wiley had told her about. Maconil was the Goddess of the Sky, which meant that it had to be her magic that was keeping Emmeline alive. 

But Emmeline couldn’t keep her magic running for long, especially lacking the training that Wiley was supposed to give her. She dropped to the ground, hitting hard in the grass of the tower’s backyard. 

Wiley. The name forced a fresh pang of longing through her and Emmeline felt tears springing to her eyes. She quickly forced them down as she reminded herself that she was still in danger. She had to run before the Rogues came down the stairs to find her. She leapt to her feet and ran towards the gate. 

The sight that awaited her on the streets was pure terror. 

The men, women, and children who had sought refuge in the forgotten city were being herded into straight lines by soldiers and Rogues alike. All of them were dressed in emerald, which meant the Green Kingdom was behind this attack. 

There were screams as the soldiers not herding the people lit torches and through them towards the houses. 

“My children are still in there!” a woman screamed at a soldier who had just forced flames onto one of the houses. 

“Silence,” the soldier ordered as screams sounded from inside the burning building. Emmeline felt sick to her stomach but she couldn’t save the woman’s children. She ran, grabbing assorted weapons from the ground. 

She managed to find two daggers, a sword, and quiver plus a bow. She loaded them onto herself, hiding the weapons in her belt and under her cloak. 

I need to find the others, Emmeline thought to herself. She didn’t know if Clara, Beckett, or Newt had managed to escape, but she dearly hoped so. Thinking as fast as she could, Emmeline switched directions as she remembered the pool Beckett had discovered. All three of them knew the location, but no one else did. 

She ran along the path, stopping occasionally to avoid soldiers. Unfortunately, she saw them catch a good amount of people - and one soldier even saw her. 

But before he could utter a word, Emmeline felt her muscles act without her. It had to be Wiley’s gift to her in action. The blade of her sword slid easily across his throat and the man fell to the ground, dead body lying limp on the stones. 

Emmeline kept running until she reached the pool. 

She stayed hidden in the shadows of the trees when she spotted two figures around the lake, their cloaks pulled over their heads. 

Emmeline tried to tiptoe behind the trees to the other side of the tiny pond so she could see the faces on these figures. Instead, her foot cracked a branch and the figures snapped to attention. “Someone is there,” the larger one whispered. 

“Emmeline?” the smaller one called out softly. Emmeline recognized Beckett’s voice and stepped into the light emitted from the pond. 

“You’re alive, thank the goddesses,” Beckett said softly. “Newt and I thought you were dead!” The younger boy ran to her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. “Have you seen Clara? How was Wiley? Where’d you get these weapons?” 

“I haven’t seen Clara,” Emmeline admitted as Beckett pulled away. She was feeling calm enough to speak now. “I found these weapons discarded on the streets. As for Wiley, the Rogues shot him with some sort of special arrow. He’s dead.” Her voice trailed off as she delivered the news.

Beckett paled and Newt raised his eyebrows. “Not Wiley,” Beckett breathed at last, his eyes growing red. “Why?” 

Newt and Emmeline chose to remain quiet as Beckett mourned. The boy sat on the rock beside the pool of water, shaking with silent sobs. “How long should we wait for Clara? What should we do?” Emmeline whispered to Newt so Beckett couldn’t hear. 

“I say we wait until midnight - Clara would find us, she’s smart enough to figure out where we are. But if she doesn’t come we still need to keep moving. Wiley gave us a mission - make our way to the Beach of Lost and Write Beckett. We can’t ignore what he told us, especially now.” Newt stared at the water, his voice calm. 

Emmeline nodded even though she felt terrible about it. 

She knew it was logical to leave Clara behind if the girl didn’t find them by midnight. They couldn’t fight the entire army to rescue her. And if she had managed to escape they couldn’t exactly run through every forest to find her hiding place. But even if it was reasonable, it didn’t sit right with Emmeline. 

Once we Write Beckett we can start to look for Clara, Emmeline told herself. The words tasted like lies. 

“Get some sleep,” Newt suggested to her. “I can tell you’re exhausted. I’ll wake you if Clara gets here.” He nudged her side when she didn’t move. Finally, Emmeline gave into her sinking eyelids. 

Uneasy dreams of past Readings rushed through her head while she slept. She relieved what she had seen in Titus’s Reading, as well as Clara’s and Beckett’s. 

It seemed that she had just sunk into peaceful sleep when Newt shook her gently. He was frowning and as Emmeline pushed herself upright she knew that Clara hadn’t made it to the pond by their deadline. 

“We’re ready to leave whenever,” Newt informed her. 

“How much supplies do we have?” Emmeline asked. 

Newt gestured to three bags on the ground. None of them were exactly bulging with materials, but they weren’t light as a feather either. Newt and Beckett both had swords, and Beckett had two knives as well. 

“We’ll have to travel by foot,” Beckett told her, sounding very grown up. “The soldiers took Rusty Bob and Void with them. Newt managed to gather some supplies but it’s not much. No food and little water.” Beckett no longer seemed affected by Clara’s absence. In fact, he even seemed emboldened by it. 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, look what I found,” Newt reached into one of the bags and pulled out a leatherbound book. 

“You have the book from Ibenily!” Emmeline cried out. Newt had found it! They weren’t going to be travelling by vague sense of direction anymore. Newt handed her the book and Emmeline flipped it open, finding the page with a map. There was a new glowing point at the Beach of Lost in Nelith. 

“So, are we ready to head out?” Newt asked with a smile. Emmeline passed him the book and Newt handed her a knapsack. On the back of it was a small canteen, which seemed empty. Newt noticed her looking at it. “Magical canteens that I found in a Blessed from Nelith’s house. They refill every hour and they weigh nothing.” Emmeline nodded, grateful for Newt’s find as she pulled the bag onto her back. 

“Let’s go,” Beckett said, sounding less than eager. “The sooner we get to the Beach the sooner we stop the war.” 

With nothing else left to do but walk, Emmeline and Newt followed Beckett into the forest. 

Emmeline yawned, trying not to fall asleep. It was almost noon and Beckett and Newt had been sleeping since dawn. They had travelled as far as they could, jogging at a quick pace to get as far away from the tower ruins as possible. 

Ibenily’s book said that they were nearing a small settlement in Maconia. It wasn’t the Sky Plateau, but slightly southeast of it. Emmeline knew that they were low on food and it made the most sense to head through the village, but Beckett and Newt had seemed determined to walk through the houses later when they woke up. 

Again, Emmeline reminded herself that she shouldn’t be so selfish. If they needed food there was no way to avoid the villages without dying of hunger. 

Why couldn’t everything just be easy? Emmeline sighed, knowing that it only made her stronger by taking the hard route. She could just turn back now, run away from Beckett and try to escape from the inevitable war. But everyone would die and it would be all her fault. 

Yet another problem with going through the village would be her outfit. Emmeline’s bare arms were revealed as her dress had straps instead of sleeves. She preferred less fabric in Wiley’s classroom because it was warm, but she never expected that she would be running away in this outfit. It was far too humid for a cloak to be considered practical around these parts. Not only was her clothing a problem, but Beckett’s striped arms posed a threat to being discovered. 

And that was if everyone in the town hadn’t memorized their faces as enemies to the Green Kingdom. 

Newt and Beckett were still fast asleep and Emmeline didn’t want to wake them. If a fight broke out during their trip through the village they needed to be prepared. Besides, Emmeline thought to herself, if I sleep there will only be dreams and vulnerability. 

Emmeline just wished she could be normal. She didn’t want to be Blessed - she would even settle for Cursed. She just didn’t want to be a Reader. 

But then again, the other Readers were probably being killed. Wiley was gone for good and he definitely was not coming back. Which meant Emmeline was quite possibly the last Reader left. If she wasn’t a Reader there would be none at all. No one to Write Beckett, no one to save the world. 

The idea of being normal gave Emmeline an idea. 

She crept into the forest but kept close to Newt and Beckett in case of danger. One by one, she plucked several berries off of the nearby bushes. She found her way back to the campsite and crushed the berries on a larger rock using a smaller pebble. 

Dark juice leaked from the crushed berries and it pooled in a small divot in the rock. Emmeline dipped her fingers and began to paint her arms and shoulder with the sticky juice. It wasn’t her best work, especially without a pen to write with. She drew symbols like the ones she had been taught in case anyone paid too much attention. 

The painted markings appeared somewhat genuine. They wouldn’t fool anyone close up, but they would pass as normal at a distance. 

There was still the problem of Beckett’s green and silver veins, but Emmeline had plenty of time to think of a solution for that too. Using a concoction made with water from the canteens, flowers from nearby bushes, and a bit of coloring from assorted berries, Emmeline was able to create a watery paint-like substance the same colors as Beckett’s stripes. 

She was careful not to wake him as she painted veins up his neck and cheeks. They looked realistic enough and matched his arms closely. Beckett didn’t stir, and Emmeline figured he had to be exhausted. She finished her work and dumped all of her work contents into scattered bushes, careful to make sure all signs of the paints were hidden. Beckett looked sick and unwell, and if he played his part well he could pass as an ill child. 

“Nice work, you should be an artist,” Newt remarked from behind her. 

“I didn’t know you were awake,” Emmeline said, blushing from his compliment. “And it wasn’t really made to look pretty. I want to blend in and not die, but if that’s not what you were going for …” 

“It looks realistic,” Newt interrupted. 

“Do you think we can make it through the town?” Emmeline asked, trying not to sound extremely hopeful. She knew it was a long shot, especially with their faces exposed. 

Newt shrugged. “We’ll never know until we try. Do you think you’re ready to pass through? I can buy from the merchants and you can help Beckett hobble through. I assume his disguise is a sick boy?” 

“I’m glad you could tell what it was,” Emmeline breathed, relieved. Her work might just pass as believable. “I’m ready whenever. Just let Beckett get his beauty sleep, though. I don’t want him to be grouchy.” 

As it turned out, they didn’t have to wait long. Beckett woke soon after, yawning once and stretching before leaping to his feet when he discovered that he was covered in paint. 

Newt explained the plan to the young prince. “You’re a sick boy and we’re just passing through to find a medic for you - one our parents recommended. I’ll fetch the food and any other supplies I can nick out of sympathy while Emmeline helps you hobble through the village. Got it?” 

Beckett nodded determinedly. “I’m ready.” Then he closed his eyes and opened them again, but only halfway so he looked exhausted. “Sister,” he mumbled, stumbling towards Emmeline and wrapping his arms around her shoulders for support. 

Emmeline laughed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and under his armpit to hold him upright. Beckett sagged when he felt her supporting him, and the extra weight almost made Emmeline fall over. “Beck, you can’t put all of your fat on me - at least carry yourself a little bit.” 

Beckett stood a little straighter and Emmeline felt the weight lift a little. 

“I’ll take two bags so Beckett doesn’t have to carry one,” Newt offered, shouldering the extra bag. Emmeline took the other as Beckett leaned on her. 

“What about our faces?” Beckett asked, sounding normal again. “Won’t everyone recognize us?” 

“I thought about that,” Newt responded. “The guards could show them pictures, but our faces would be from the guard’s memories, so they wouldn’t be perfect. And they can’t make enough copies for everyone to get one so it’s likely that the villagers only got a quick look. We should be fine, but let’s pass through quickly. Maybe because only half of us are here it will throw everyone off.” 

The sore reminder that Clara, Coral, and Forrest weren’t there made Beckett stiffen, but Emmeline rubbed his back soothingly and the tension left him. 

They hobbled into the village and Emmeline pretended to be caring deeply for Beckett. He made a good show of being ill when he saw people watching. He coughed and hacked, sneezed and dragged his feet. 

Most of the villagers kept their distance, but a few ventured close until Beckett flashed a toothy smile and began to mumble under his breath. The braver ones stayed away after that. 

Meanwhile, Newt worked his magic with the other marketers. One woman pitied Beckett and gave them three armfuls of fruit for free. Another man handed Newt a dark cord with a bronze charm - “for money”, the man told them, smiling sadly. 

There was even a group of children that were playing a game with lots of swords and tiny tiaras that handed Newt a singular gold coin. They offered Beckett a sword, but their parents ran to grab them and dragged them backwards. Emmeline smiled gratefully at everyone. 

So far, so good. No one seemed to realize their true identities. Not yet, at least. 

Emmeline was starting to feel hopeful now. Beckett’s “illness” kept the villagers at bay and they distanced themselves enough that Emmmeline’s work probably appeared realistic to them. Newt smiled and thanked everyone, forcing a few tears. 

“I’m so thankful,” Newt said to one of the younger men, and he actually sounded sincere. “My siblings and I have travelled all the way from Layene. Mother and Father said that Someone in Zachryose could help us.” He was droning on and on now, milking it a little bit but as long as it kept the attention off of their faces, Emmeline was fine with it. 

“Once your brother is better, will you pass through here again?” a young girl asked, looking hopeful. It took all of Emmeline’s willpower not to roll her eyes. 

“It depends,” Newt said, not quite meeting the girl’s gaze. “If my brother doesn’t make it…” he let his voice trail off and pretended to choke back a sob. The girl clutched her hands to her chest, falling for their lie. 

When it was clear that Emmeline and her friends weren’t a threat the people went back to their normal schedules, chatting amicably but still staying far away from Beckett. 

A drip of drool rolled down Beckett’s chin and Emmeline ignored it. Who knew the boy was such a good actor? Newt talked a few more people into giving up some supplies, including some weapons for protection, several chunks of meat from the butcher, and also a spare cloak for Beckett. 

And surprisingly, Emmeline soon found herself standing on the opposite side of the village. Beckett straightened up, slipping his sweaty palm out of Emmeline’s before stretching. “Well that was exhausting,” he remarked, wiping his mouth on his arm. 

“We got a fair bit of supplies,” Newt said, organizing their loot and distributing it between the three packs. “I think we can last a week with this if we ration, give or take a few days.” He handed Emmeline one of the packs and Beckett the smallest one, pulling the bulging one over his shoulder. 

Newt and Beckett traded weapons until Beckett had an assortment of knives and a sword and Newt had two swords and a dagger. Emmeline kept her dagger, sword, and quiver and bow for herself. 

“Next stop, the Beach of Lost!” Beckett exclaimed, punching his fist into the air. 

“Not so fast,” someone interjected. Emmeline spun on her heels, whipping out her bow on instinct and nocking an arrow. She found her weapon pointed at a man dressed in emerald.  He was a captain, that was for sure. “Shoot me and my soldiers will kill your friends before you can even scream for help.” 

Emmeline shoved her arrow back into her quiver and placed the bow in its spot. She bit her lip nervously as soldiers clad in emerald green emerged from the forest. The border of the village was too far too run to without risking death. 

“Lay down your weapons,”the Captain ordered calmly. 

Emmeline glanced at Newt out of the corner of her eye. He shook his head, expression panicked. He didn’t want to be captured. 

“Fine,” Emmeline said quietly. Then she felt a smirk form on her lips. “I’ll lay them down when I’m finished with you.” And without waiting for a responde, she attacked the Captain with a sword drawn.