Marks of the Past - 4

Chapter 4

James was scaring me with his silence. He hadn’t spoken a word since we’d left the house for the gala and his hands trembled as he looped his arm through mine. 

The dagger cut into my side with its coldness, never hurting but constantly reminding me of his warning. Was I wrong to be afraid? 

About halfway through our walk, Anton stopped to talk to someone who wasn’t attending the party (I think it was a patrolman) and James pulled me aside. He handed me a small leather strap with a buckle. “Pretend to fix your shoe,” he hissed at me. “Slip the dagger into the strap so it won’t bulge in your dress.” 

I did as I was told, heart pounding with every second. 

As we continued walking, I realized what James was playing at and why he asked me to hold the dagger. With the length of my dress and who I was, the guards posted at the entry to the gala would not be able to search me for weapons. It was a genius move really. 

James couldn’t sneak weapons into the gala himself, but he certainly could have me smuggle them in for him. I was also proven better with a knife than he was. 

The entrance to the gala was bustling with people. There were so many bodies that even in the cold, winter air I was feeling warm. James, Anton, and I passed through the security checkpoint with ease and then we were inside the party. 

Anton departed from his friend and gave me a smile as he straightened his tie. “Would you like to come with me to sign the papers or are you good?” 

“I’ll pass,” I said, giving him another smile. I wanted to figure out what was going on with James which meant I had to find a way to approach him alone. 

“That’s fine,” Anton said, nodding to himself. “Try to talk to as many people as possible and convince them to vote for you-” 

“I think she knows, dad,” grumbled James, who was being uncharacteristically mysterious and brooding. Anton nodded again, also seeming out of character with his absentmindedness. I wondered if he’d ever even sponsored before. 

“Well,” James said, turning to me. “I’ll be in the gardens if you need me.” 

And he was gone, just like that, disappearing into the crowd. I was speechless and suddenly the gala seemed ten times scarier. 

I’d never been good with people. Sure, I could handle some social interaction here and there but it always ended awkwardly. As I got older, I learned how to make quick, polite conversation. It didn’t help that I was extremely claustrophobic - especially in large crowds.

The second James left my side, it felt like my lungs were folding in on themselves. My breathing became shallow and it felt like the bodies were pressing in on me. 

I darted through the crowd, trying to escape. In reality, the party was barely crowded compared to its normal size - after all, the gala had just begun. But to me, it felt like I couldn’t breathe. 

Someone grabbed my shoulders, I guess trying to stop me from barreling into them.

It was an older lady, though she still looked relatively young. “Sweetie, are you okay? You look pale…” 

“I’m fine,” I choked out. “Just a little dizzy.” 

The woman nodded, understanding. “I used to be the same way when I was your age. Who are your parents?” 

At first I was confused as to why she thought she would know either of my parents. Then I realized that she thought I was a Court kid, a child of one of the elite. “Oh, uh, I’m not one of the children-” 

“Oh?” The woman’s grin grew. “Do tell. Who is the lucky guy then?” 

And now she thought I was being married off to one of the Court kids. I tried to slip away but her hand was still on my wrist. 

“I’m, uh, single,” I tried, attempting once again to break away to no avail. 

Were all rich women this invasive? 

Probably sensing my rising panic, Mark materialized behind the woman. I could tell by the position of his hands and his body language that he was preparing to attack her for me. 

Her eyes darkened. “A civilian then? Or …” 

She must not have been very attentive if it took her that long to notice who I really was. Her eyes traced the scar down the length of my face. Her sneer broke into a pitying smile. “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry. It must be terrifying being here when you have no experience being out in the public eye like this.” 

I ignored the patronizing tone, and Mark took a step back, crossing his arms. 

The woman continued, “would you like me to show you around? I’m sure I can find you someone to dance with or something.” 

I shook my head quickly. “Thanks, but I think I’ll be fine.” 

With that, I finally managed to slip out of her tight grasp and disappear into the crowd. Immediately, the suffocating feeling returned but I made my way towards the food where there were less people gathered. 

Moonlight glinted off of the punch bowls, making it hard to see what was actually inside. I was actually glad for the open air party though. The gala was always hosted in one of the older temples that was created before the Republic banned religion. Pillars supported the roof, which could be retracted into the beams above the pillars. Tiny lanterns were strung across the beams, creating the effect of hovering lights. 

The temple was surrounded by famous topiary gardens that were meticulously cared for by well paid gardeners. I was sure that James was hiding in the garden somewhere. I’d have thought he would have rather stuck with me since I was armed. 

For the past few days, he’d been the closest I’d ever had to a friend. It hurt more than I was willing to admit that he didn’t want to spend the gala with me. 

Despite Anton’s advice to make myself appear to people, I tried to blend in as much as I could. Too afraid to actually drink anything, lest it be poisoned or tinted or something, I floated around the buffet until a chef pushed me away. 

Thrust back into the loud party, I tried to make a break for the gardens where I could hopefully breathe better. 

That was when I caught sight of James. 

He was standing by one of the pillars and he was actually smiling. Brightly. Beside him was a pretty girl, who was laughing too. Something fluttered in my chest. 

Someone tapped me on the shoulder, breaking me out of my glance. 

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” mumbled a petite girl with a dress that looked way too long for a girl her size. “Though I wouldn’t get too attached. There’s rumors going around that he’s with someone right now.” 

“Wait, what?” I interrupted. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if I was more upset about James possibly being with someone or the fact that this tiny stranger thought I liked him. 

She rolled her eyes. “I’m Estella, by the way. But I just wanted to let you know that James - that boy you were watching - is taken. There’s rumors at school that he’s already with someone, so don’t get your hopes up.” 

“I wasn’t watching him,” I protested, heat rising to my cheeks. “I’m Leila.” 

“You seem familiar, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,” Estella noted. “Are you new?”

“Something like that,” I mumbled, because a thought was coming to my mind. Estella seemed like a gossipy type. Even if James wouldn’t tell me anything about his personal life, I felt that Estella would. I knew it was low, but I was a bit miffed at James (unreasonably, maybe) for ditching me. “So, uh, not that I’m interested, but do you have any dirt on him?” 

“Do I?” giggled Estella in a way that made me want to vomit. I guessed I just had to ramp up my “crush” on James to get Estella to give me all kinds of info. “Well, for starters, he’s probably the weirdest boy on the block. Even when we were kids, his father never let him play outside with the rest of us.” 

No surprise there. James didn’t exactly seem like the type to play mindless games on the streets with the other Court kids. 

“Also, his mother died about a year or so ago. She was really nice too - a magician dealing with the physical magic. My mom took me to see her once when I was sick, but then she got sick too and passed away recently. James and his father have barely left the house since.” 

She was a healer, then, and a famous one. 

My own mother had taught me all about magic as a child. There were the four elements - magic that could only be mastered through years of intense isolation and training. The magic of the elements was often useless in today’s society so not many people tried to learn it. Then there were three other types of magic, which were inherited. Physical magic dealt with physical things, and most magicians of that type were healers or specially trained soldiers. Mental magic worked with the mind and emotions of people, which was slightly rarer. These people generally hid their magic because it was seen as manipulative. 

And then there was the Hidden Arts. No one knew exactly what it involved. Some speculated that the Hidden Arts were a form of necromancy that some extraordinarily rare people had the power of. My mother dismissed this as a lie, but I’d always felt like she was the one who was lying. 

“How did she die?” I found myself asking. 

Estella gave me a warning look, but I ignored her and waited for an answer. “It was like the magic was drained from her. One day she was healthy and healed a bunch of patients. The next day, she could barely get out of bed. At least, that’s why my mom says…” 

I droned out Estella’s chatter as I wrapped my mind around that. 

Healthy one day, sick the next. 

A memory surfaced in my head and I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. Excusing myself, I ran through the crowd, trying to escape Estella. 

The most secluded spot I could find happened to be behind one of the corner pillars. Without the people to block the wind, the bitter cold seeped into my bones but I was too preoccupied to notice as the memory came to surface. 

I sat next to my mom, gripping her arm tightly for dear life. My head felt swollen, my limbs felt like lead, and there was a fire burning in my chest. I was fourteen - plenty old enough to understand what was happening. It was another pox outbreak, this year with the deadliest rate yet. I wasn’t scared that it was going to take me - I was scared that it would take Liam or Lexi.

Mother insisted I go to a doctor. It was a first for me, especially since I was going to have to stay with the healer overnight to get two doses of treatment. 

Five hours later, I was lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to all sorts of scary looking machines. I felt small and helpless. The healer had still yet to see me and the other patient in this room. Yeah, there were two of us in each tiny room due to the sheer amount of infected. The healers were taking super high risks by seeing so many dying people. 

I had to share my room with some boy I didn’t recognize. He was really pale but I wasn’t sure if it was just the pox or actually his skin tone. The whole time he’d kept his face buried in a thick book. 

The door creaked open and a kind looking woman stepped inside. She had light hair and eyes that glowed with warmth. She also looked exhausted, but I decided to ignore that. “Are you two doing okay? Do you have any questions before I start healing?” 

She was right down to business and I liked that about her. 

The boy didn’t look up from the book and the woman politely stepped towards him, plopping down on the edge of his bed. “Good book?” 

“Amazing,” the boy said with a smile as he finally looked up. “What did you say before that?” 

The woman and the boy shared a laugh, and for some reason I felt myself joining in too. When the woman finally composed herself, she clasped her hands neatly in her lap. “I asked if you had any concerns before I began the healing process.” 

The boy shook his head and the woman turned to me. 

Immediately, I felt my pulse jump. I’d never been to a doctor before and despite me being older, I still was afraid of them. “What exactly is going to happen? Is it going to hurt?” 

Neither the woman nor the boy laughed at me, something I was grateful for. 

Surprisingly enough, it was the boy who answered. “I believe the nurse is going to put us to sleep for a bit,” he explained as if reciting a passage from a book. “She’ll start the removal process of the pox and then by morning, our bodies will be cleansed of it and she will wake us up and we’ll be free to go.” 

“Right you are,” the woman smiled. “Have you ever thought about being a doctor?”

The boy shrugged. “I prefer books to people.” 

“Thanks,” I whispered to him, and then I repeated it for the woman. “This sounds exhausting for you.” 

She gave a shrug like the boy. “Kind of, but I figure it’s worth it if I help people.” Her brow furrowed. “Are you sure you're okay, sweetie? You look a bit pale - and I know it’s not from the pox. Are you-” 

“I’ve never been to a healer before,” I admitted sheepishly. “I’ve barely left the house.” 

“Do you want me to hold your hand?” asked the boy. At first, I thought he was joking but his face was serious. “My … brother used to hold my hand before I went to sleep because he said you could face any nightmare as long as you didn’t fight it alone.” 

“Sure,” I sighed. It did seem nice to have someone by my side.

The boy reached out a hand and I grabbed it. His fingers were warm and he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze as the woman placed her own palm on my shoulder. The word dissolved into a blanket of darkness and I felt myself drift away…

“Leila!” 

Someone was shaking me roughly. I jolted back to reality, the coldness of the party rushing back at me like a brick wall. I startled - instinctually attacking whatever was in front of me. 

“Leila, it’s just me!” I recognized the voice. James. Shame washed through me. 

“Sorry,” I mumbled, taking in my surroundings. Unfortunately, I was still at the party and there was a blanket wrapped around my shoulders. “What’s going on?” 

James looked concerned. “What’s going on?! You’ve been dead to the world for the past few minutes, shivering in the corner. I thought you were supposed to be finding people to vote for you, not cowering away like …” 

His voice trailed off as he noticed me shaking. I wasn’t sure if it was the memory or the cold at this point. 

James’s mom had been the one to heal me, and if timing was right, about a week before she died. That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? Maybe that was why James really wanted to sponsor me, so he could get revenge… 

“Leila!” James shook me again, a bit upset looking. “Wow, you’re freezing. We need to get you warmed up.” 

“Not back in the party,” I protested weakly. James gave me a look. “Too many people.” 

“Fine. I’m going to find you a spot in the garden to sit while I grab some hot chocolate for you.” 

I nodded again. My limbs seemed frozen stiff and my mind was still elsewhere. 

James found a bench next to an icy fountain and forced me to sit on it. “I’ll be right back,” he promised. 

As he turned to leave, I watched him go wondering why he had ditched that other girl to come find me. Estella had said he was with someone - was it possible that the girl was his … I forced the thought away. 

Something suddenly caught my eye in one of the topiaries. Silver gleaming in the moonlight. 

I opened my mouth to call for James, but it was too late. 

Someone had already pressed the cold blade of a knife against my throat. A voice whispered softly in my ear. “Move, and you’re dead.”

Author's Note

A bunch of important info is revealed here (certain plot points will be needed later). Enjoy!