Marks of the Past - 5

Chapter 5

I wasn’t thinking straight. Actually, I wasn’t even sure that I was thinking, to be honest. 

All I remember was shouting “is this moving?” and slamming my elbow into my captor’s stomach. Not my smartest move, but maybe my boldest. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted James in a similar situation as me, struggling against a figure wearing a hood. That, of course, wouldn’t be helpful for me. 

You’re the one with a knife, I reminded myself. 

Before I could reach for my dagger, my attacker charged straight at me, knocking me to the ground. I rolled on impact, the dagger coming free and slicing a nice cut in my leg before I managed to grab it. 

The hooded figure who’d attacked me stood a few feet away, arms up and prepared to throw a knife. They were hesitating for some unknown reason. 

No, not unknown. 

We were in the middle of the biggest party in the entire republic. If Killer - which is what I decided to call the figure - attacked me here, there would be no way he would escape the authorities. 

That also put me in a bad position. I was already being put in the Redemption, and this would be my moment to lose voters - which meant my likelihood of dying increased. 

However, the party was still loudly happening without disturbance. I wondered if anyone even noticed that James and I were missing. If no one knew we were missing, I had a few minutes before someone spotted this brawl occurring. A few minutes to save my own life. 

My brain went on autopilot and I ran straight at Killer. He may have been an experienced fighter, but apparently he didn’t encounter many stupid people. Killer only managed to avoid my blade by a few inches, and even then, I had the upper hand with the element of surprise. 

I couldn’t kill him, not here. But maybe I could scare him enough. 

My training from Hazel was returning bit by bit but I was still pretty weak from the memory too. I threw a punch at Killer’s face, which he easily dodged and returned with a hit to my stomach. 

I doubled over, choking for breath. 

Killer kicked me in the side, sending me toppling to the ground. My dress did nothing to protect me from the harsh rocks of the path. 

Once again, Killer rushed at me. I stuck out my leg, knocking his feet out from under him. His head hit the ground, hard. I heard a soft groan escape his lips and he sounded like he was in serious pain but I couldn’t focus on that. 

I grabbed for my dagger again, snatching it away from Killer and immediately searching for James. He was nowhere in sight, but I could hear him struggling with muffled shouts. 

Following the sounds of the scuffle was actually pretty easy. 

James was locked into a fistfight with Killer’s accomplice, who I deemed Stabby. This figure seemed smaller and more curved, possibly feminine. 

Stabby was unarmed so James was at least holding his own. Blood dripped from his nose and Stabby was limping. Still, Stabby was probably an experienced murderer based on how Killer was. She definitely thought she would win this fight. 

I thought about running back to the party and grabbing help, but that was too risky. If James suddenly got injured, I needed to be able to help as quickly as possible. It was best to let this unfold and swoop in if James required my assistance. So I stayed hidden in the shrubs, shivering in the flimsy dress, dagger in hand.

As it turned out, James really was helpless without me. 

Stabby got one well placed punch in before James collapsed to the ground. His eyes fluttered and I could tell he was struggling to stay awake. 

Stabby looked around frantically, probably for something to kill James with. 

My heart leapt into my throat as Stabby seemed to find something that she could use. I didn’t have time to see whatever weapon she found. 

While Stabby was distracted, I made a run for James. 

His head picked up as I approached, lips forming my name as I grabbed his arms and somehow managed to hoist him up so I was supporting his weight. 

I’d never been one to be considered strong, so it was no surprise when I only made it a few yards before my legs gave out. James toppled over without me to support him and my own legs crumpled like paper. 

We were still several yards from the edge of the party - too far for anyone to notice. They were packing in closer to conserve heat as the night grew colder. 

I could hear Stabby’s rapid footsteps approaching. She was rushing towards James, probably underestimating me. I wondered if she knew I’d pretty much taken out Killer or if she just assumed he ditched her. 

It looked like Stabby had found a pair of abandoned gardening shears. In possibly the most over dramatic preparation to kill someone ever, she raised the blades above her head, preparing to plunge them into James’s back. 

I don’t know what came over me, but something snapped inside of me. I crawled as fast as I could towards James’s side. My only thought was that I couldn’t let someone die when there was a chance that I could save them. 

Pulling the same trick that I had on Killer, I swept my leg towards Stabby’s ankles and wiped her out. She managed to catch her balance halfway down, but her gardening shears tumbled away. Somewhere along the line, I’d lost my dagger. Both her and I were weaponless now. A fair fight. 

I forced myself into a standing position, wobbling as my knees struggled to keep me awake. Stabby copied my movements, staring straight at me as she got to her feet. 

The garden was silent except for the sounds of James’s labored breathing on the ground. 

I brought my arms up in what I hoped was a defensive position. “Don’t touch us,” I spat, giving her what I thought might be a scary look. 

Stabby’s lips curled up in a smirk. Her mouth was the only part of her face I could see with that stupid mask on. But the corners of her lips dropped as she seemed to focus on something behind me. 

“Leila?” 

I whirled around to see Anton and the entire group of partygoers watching me stunned silence. It must’ve looked odd to see a girl in a fancy dress, her face marred by an ugly scar, standing over a rich boy nearly unconscious on the ground, facing off against a hooded assassin type figure. 

“Someone grab her!”

At first I thought the shout was directed at me, but I realized that Stabby had disappeared while I’d been distracted. 

The threat was gone. 

My adrenaline dissipated and I felt my legs go weak from under me. Anton was suddenly at my side, helping me into a sitting position so I didn’t hit my head. 

“Shh,” he whispered, “it’s going to be okay.” 

I nodded because I knew he was right. These injuries were not even close to being fatal, and James and I would probably just have a couple of bruises for the next week or so. 

Someone screamed something about being lied to about getting paid. 

My eyes were closing but I managed to see Stabby and Killer standing on the walls to the garden. One of them was holding a crossbow. 

Time slowed down. It was pointed at my chest. 

Then Mark was there. The air left the crossbow with a nearly silent twang and flew towards me like molasses. Mark had plenty of time to step into the line of fire and flick the arrow away as my mouth opened in a scream. 

Time resumed normal speed and the arrow clattered to the ground, stopped midtrack. 

By a ghost. 

Mark gave me a soft smile, and that’s when the darkness fell over me again, claiming me as its own. 

The first thing saw when my eyes peeled open was Mark’s fake, concerned face staring down at me. Something looked different about him, but I couldn’t tell what it was. 

My body was a bit sore but honestly I felt oddly awake, like something inside of me was lit. I felt more alive than I had in a very long time. That was, until I checked the clock beside my bed and found it was almost noon.

Immediately, I was on my feet and headed to the closet.

Mark smirked as I shut the door on his face, digging through the racks of clothing for something to wear. 

The events of the previous night rushed back at me. 

Everyone who’d been at the gala had seen me armed, and prepared to use the weapon too. There was no way they’d vote for me now. 

I tugged a fresh shirt over my head, wondering if maybe that was what James had intended. It didn’t seem like something he would do, but why else would he have given me a knife to sneak into the gala?

The only way to figure out for sure was to confront him. Sure, I wasn’t exactly eager to find him, but I wanted to know the truth. 

“You finally realize that what I told you wasn’t a lie?” Mark prodded as I stepped out of the closet. 

I stuck my tongue out at him. 

He rolled his eyes and gave his grumpy frown. “I saved you last night, y’know. From the crossbow bolt.” 

“Thanks?” I wasn’t sure why he was telling me this - I was in a bit of a hurry. 

“I also explored while you were asleep.” 

That caught my attention. “Can’t you only go a certain length away from me though?” I wasn’t really sure about Mark at all. He’d just kind of always been there. I knew I was the only one who could see him, but it never really occurred to me that he was able to go places without me. 

Another shrug. “I figured it might finally get you to trust me.” 

Like that was ever going to happen. Right now, Mark was one of the last people I trusted my life with. 

“Whatever. Look, I’m kind of in a hurry so…” 

Mark snorted. “Miss your boyfriend already? It’s only been a few hours.” 

I shot him a glare. “First of all, he’s not my boyfriend.” My cheeks flamed as I ran a comb through my hair. At this point I wasn’t even sure why I was prepping myself so much. Or maybe I did know. “And secondly, please shut up.” 

Mark did as I asked for a few minutes, but then he was right back to protesting. “Listen, Leila, I found out some information on this family and-” 

“I don’t want to hear it right now, so save it.” 

Mark bit his lips but turned away. I didn’t have time for some angsty ghost, so I left him alone in my room. 

It wasn’t actually hard to find James and Anton. They were having a rather loud discussion at the dining room table, a plate of steaming food between them. Neither of them had touched it. What a waste. 

There was a white bandage wrapped around James’s head, reminding me that he’d suffered from more of the attacks than I had.
Anton saw me first, opening his arms wide as if expecting an embrace. “Leila!” 

I plopped down at the head of the table, trying to summon my anger. “You can drop the act.” 

The father and son shared a look before breaking out in laughter. 

I slammed my fist on the table. “Look, I know you planned to make me lose votes by staging the attack. I heard that the two attackers expected pay - and James was the one to slip me the dagger. You wanted the partygoers to see me.” 

“Is that really what you think?” James interrupted. 

“Well, yeah…” 

James gave another laugh. He didn’t sound like he was in pain and I had to stop myself from feeling relief. “Leila, we didn’t stage the attack-” 

I raised an eyebrow. 

“Okay, so maybe we did pay two actors to stage an attack. But the point wasn’t to make the people see you as dangerous, we wanted to make you seem loyal.” 

“Loyal?” I echoed. “What am I? Some sort of dog?” 

Anton was the one to answer. “What the people saw was not some rogue girl engaging in violence with two ‘assassins’. Instead, they saw you defending James. They saw you standing your ground. To them, it was the most heroic, romantic thing possible. If anything, you earned half of the votes with your performance.” 

I blushed at the way Anton said romantic. There was nothing between James and I. Nothing. 

“Still, I wish you would’ve told me. I was terrified - I thought I was going to die,” I mumbled, looking at the table. 

James shrugged. “It was more genuine this way.” 

“You even went as far as to get injured for this,” I pointed out. Which brought me back to my original question. “Why did you sponsor me? And no more of that stupid, sappy I felt it in my chest.” 

James and Anton both suppressed a laugh. 

“I suppose she deserves the truth,” Anton sighed. He and James had an internal conversation with odd looks that made my palms sweat. 

“Fine,” James said aloud. 

Anton turned to me, seemingly pleased with himself. He placed a gentle hand on my palm. “As my son told you, it hasn’t been the easiest of years for our family.” He was referring to his wife’s death, of course, which brought up a whole new round of questions that I had to push back. “I’m not getting any younger, and, well, we were looking for someone to help James run the estate.” 

Oh. 

The room felt like someone had lit the table on fire. Even though it was just the three of us, it was like there were a million pairs of eyes on me. 

“You don’t even know me,” I protested. “And why a criminal? Why-” 

I don’t know how it happened, but all of the sudden Anton was on the ground. James was next to him and I was screaming. 

That’s when he stopped breathing. 

Five minutes. That’s how much longer Anton would’ve lasted if I hadn’t screamed like I was dying instead of him. 

The first thought had been poison. A bunch of the maids rushed me back to my room, assuring me that this kind of medical stuff wasn’t for a “lady” like me to see. Then they locked the door. 

Mark had come to comfort me, but I was beside myself with worry. 

Anton had just admitted to choosing to sponsor me because he wanted me to marry his son. I never even found out why. It was selfish of me to think like that, but I couldn’t face the possibility that he was actually dead. 

Mark tried his best to console me, but his efforts were futile. He kept trying to talk to me about the “truth”, but I didn’t want to hear it. 

James knocked at my door at nearly eight. I was starving, but I didn’t want to say anything. He looked rough, his eyes red and puffy. 

“My father isn’t dead,” he told me, voice soft and broken. “Not yet. The medics said he won’t last much longer. Some sort of pox.” 

“Shouldn’t we be in quarantine then?”

James shook his head. “The Redemption is soon and my dad he … he said that you have to win for him. If you don’t …” 

The words went unspoken between us. If I didn’t win the Redemption, I’d be sent back to prison. Chances were low of Anton surviving for much longer, his body somehow incredibly and suddenly weakened by the “pox”. That would leave James alone. 

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, though it didn’t sound like enough. “Can I do anything?” 

“You can win, Leila. Win this for your family and for mine. Win it for me, please, because I can’t do this alone.”

I grabbed his hand and held it in mine. “You won’t have to.”

Author's Note

I wasn't really intending for Leila and James to get so close, but I guess it's too late for that now. Hope you enjoyed this story so far - it's definitely a more interesting piece for me to write. Don't worry if the "Anton thing" (no spoilers!) doesn't make sense because I promise it will (maybe later than sooner). Lots of emotion-y stuff!