Marks of the Past - 26

Chapter 26

The clocktower in the distance struck noon when the Shadows finally returned to the living room to deliver their news. 

Sleep had refused to come to me after James left, abandoning me in the dark and quiet hour. It reminded me of the stories my mother had told me as a child about the “witching hour” where the monsters hiding in the dark would come alive. She’d never described the monsters in depth, but now my imagination was enjoying creating the most terrifying creatures. For that reason - combined with my fear from the nightmare - I struggled to sleep. 

I guessed I dozed off at one point, at least for a little while because my mother shook me awake when the sunlight began to stream through the windows. She handed me a steaming plate of food accompanied by a thick book. 

“The others are debating upstairs,” she informed me. “They asked me to tell you that they’ll be down soon to let you know what they decide.”
‘Soon’ turned out to be about lunchtime, though I did manage to catch a bit of heated conversations that made their way downstairs. The Shadows all looked exhausted with actual shadows hanging under their eyes. 

My mother served us lunch in the sitting room so I wasn’t forced to move and she hung on the outskirts of the room, listening but pretending not to. Liam and Lexi were hanging out with Simon in his “lab”, probably causing chaos.

“Where’s James?” Nik asked, taking a bite of his sandwich - courtesy my mother’s thoughtful use of the supplies from the kitchen cabinets. 

I gave a small shrug, trying to sound indifferent. “He left early this morning.”

“James was the one who kidnapped me?” my mother asked, not even a hint of accusation in her voice. 

I nodded. “Yes. He was the one who sponsored me for the Redemption.”

“And then he manipulated you, used you, and tried to kill you,” Jonah reminded me as he gave me a suspicious stare. 

Luckily enough, none of them said anything else about James. Rave and Kyle were too busy eating side by side as if they couldn’t bear to be apart any longer. Chelsea was too busy playing with the blade of her knife to notice anything. 

“So,” I continued. “You guys made a decision about how we’re going to send Mark back to the world of the dead?” 

Awkward silence confirmed my biggest fears. 

“There won’t be a we anymore,” Kyle said without any regret. “There’s too much at risk here and the chances of victory are so low that success would be nearly impossible.”

“Nearly,” I emphasized, trying not to let it show how much it hurt. 

How much I needed them to stay here and help me. Because if the Shadows didn’t believe I was capable of defeating Mark, then how could I believe it? 

“You’re leaving,” I mumbled. 

Nik gave a hesitant nod. “I’m sorry, Leila. You’ve been good to us - you reunited us with Kyle. But in a world like this one, we can’t pay back every debt.” 

Logical Nik, thinking about what was in it for him and the Shadows and not about me. Maybe I was being selfish by thinking that the Shadows would be willing to help me in the first place. This wasn’t their fight, it was mine. My fault. 

“I understand,” I whispered. No I don’t. “And I respect your decision.” How could you all leave me alone and defenseless? “When do you leave?” Can you take my family too? 

The Shadows shared a comprehensive look. Their simple deference to each other only served as a reminder that I was not one of them and I never would be. I’d helped to get Kyle back, my role was now fulfilled. 

“We leave tonight,” Nik answered at last. 

So little time. Would this be our goodbyes? Would I die? Would they die? 

“Can you take my family with you?” This time, I said the words out loud, surprising even myself. 

My mother emerged from her spot in the corner. “Leila-”

“Please, Nik,” I begged, meeting his eyes. There was a flicker of emotion, was it remorse maybe? Could he not one to leave? It made me wonder if the vote to run had been unanimous. Judging by the loud arguments, my guess was no. “I don’t want them involved in this.”

“Leila, you can’t send us away,” my mother said. “You’re just a girl. Just a girl.”

“Lexi and Liam are even younger than I am,” I reminded her. “Your duty is to them, not to me. You told dad that, remember?”

Her face flushed pink with anger. I really didn’t want this to be one of her last memories of me, but I couldn’t take it back now. She and I both remembered the day my father had left and tried to take me with him. She’ll always be more like me than you, he’d told my mother. The twins will be yours and Leila will be mine. I wondered what he would say if he could see me now. 

“Why not send Lexi and Liam but let me stay?” she asked. 

“They need you to take care of them. Besides, it’s safer for all of us with you out of the way.” And should I fail, you’ll probably be one of the only ones to care and I don’t want you getting hurt because of me. As if emotional pain wouldn’t kill her too. 

“You’re not arguing nearly as much as we expected,” Chelsea commented. 

“I know a lost cause when I see one,” I remarked, bitterness seeping into my voice like a blade. Yet I didn’t feel sorry. 

Chelsea ignored my venom, either that or she didn’t seem affected. 

My mother, on the other hand, apparently didn’t share the same sympathy. “Leila! That was uncalled for. There is no reason to talk to your friends that way.

“They’re not my friends,” I growled. Maybe it was a lie, maybe it wasn’t. We’d been through so much together - the attack at the docks, a trip to Miryir, the whole Prince Aron debacle and raid at the castle. Now there was the question of if we’d truly bonded or if everything had been a lie, faking camaraderie in the sake of saving Kyle 

“Leila-” my mom began but I cut her off. 

“Please, I don’t want to fight about this. They’ve made their choice and I’ve made mine. If they wanted a run like the cowards they are, let them.”

A small sense of satisfaction rolled through me when I caught Nik and Jonah flinch. Chelsea still seemed relatively unaffected while Rave had tears in her eyes and Kyle was glaring at me with disgust. 

I didn’t care. I couldn’t. 

It wasn’t fair that they were allowed to run when I was forced to face one of my greatest fears. It wasn’t fair that they had each other while I was alone. It wasn’t fair that I had to send away the only people I cared for if I wanted them to live. 

My anger was selfish, I knew, and yet I still didn’t take back my words. 

“I guess we should start packing then,” Chelsea suggested, her voice filled with icy indifference that made me wonder if that trip to her parents’ house had all been an act. 

The others followed her silently, though I could feel the weight of their stares pressing down on me. My mother sent me a look that was either disappointed or understanding - I couldn’t tell which. Her brows furrowed together before she left just like everyone else. 

I was alone, the house quiet with the exception of the squeaking stairs. My mind raced, trying to figure out how I was going to say goodbye because as much as I wanted to believe that I was going to make it back alive, my survival was anything but guaranteed. The first step was to be able to walk again, which required either a physic or a potion. Since bringing even more people into this wasn’t really an option, I opted for the second choice. 

Just as I anticipated, Simon, Lexi, and Liam returned from the basement about half an hour later, expecting to find the Shadows.

“Where’d everyone go?” Liam asked, searching the room like we were playing hide and seek. 

“Upstairs packing,” I answered in a low voice, trying to force a smile onto my face. “You and mom are going on a short trip with the others. You’ll get to be with Rave and-” 

That was all the persuasion they needed, though I wondered if they knew what was really happening. They were older and smarter than everyone gave them credit for. Still they hurried up the stairs to find my mother and Rave. 

Simon took a seat on the coffee table, obviously waiting for me to explain. 

“They’re leaving for Miryir?” he guessed, rather accurately. “Y’know, I’m not eager to go back - especially if I have to take a boat with Chelsea.” He gave a nervous chuckle. “But I suppose there’s no other choice.” 

“Unless you want to stay with me,” I mumbled, not meaning it. “You might be persecuted in Miryir, but at least you aren’t guaranteed a death.” 

“Hey, no one in the Republic is necessarily going to die,” Simon pointed out. “You got this - and you better because I really don’t wanna spend the rest of my life in Miryir hiding from the authorities.” 

I appreciated his optimism but I wasn’t in the mood to thank him. “Everyone else is in the same boat since I killed Aron. They’re probably wanted for assassination.”

Simon shrugged. “I’m an expert at hiding from the patrols. I’ll keep your family safe, okay?”

“Thanks.” This time I did say it because I knew that Simon would honor that. Though I didn’t know exactly what had happened regarding Simon and Chelsea and their brother, I did know that he seemed to regret whatever he’d done a lot, which was enough for me to trust him to take care of my siblings and mother. “Can I ask one more favor?”

“Sure, what do you need?”

I grinned. “Just a few potions.”

A few hours later I was waiting in line at the post office like somewhere in the distance Mark wasn’t plotting to kill literally everyone in the Republic to make himself immortal. 

The post office wasn’t normally busy this late at night, but I realized that a month had passed since the Redemption. Which meant that it would soon be the Day of Death - a holiday in which we honored the ghosts. The morning was spent with the dead, the afternoon spent with the living, and the evening filled with people that you wanted in your future. 

Most of the people in line were sending out invitations to their parties now, begging the people like James to show up. 

There was a kind but extremely talkative lady behind me as I waited. She asked me all about the parties - which I learned were actually tomorrow - and asked me who I was inviting and what I planned to wear. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I’d never celebrated the Day of Death, as my mother had dismissed it as superstition. 

“Surely someone as lovely as you has a nice dinner planned out,” she cooed, eyes tracing the scar on my face. 

I gave a half-hearted shrug, trying to sound enthusiastic. “I do. He’s a great boy, and I really think I want him to be in my future.” It was a speech I’d heard given by many girls in the streets before, and it was surprisingly easy to deliver it. Maybe because describing a boy like that made me think of James. 

She talked for a while, starting to ask me more personal questions. What I had in my bulging bag. Where I lived. Why I had a limp. 

Simon had taken less than an hour to brew the potions I needed. I kept a few vials of an assortment of healing potions, corrosives, and smoke bombs shoved into the bag on my shoulder - along with a fair amount of knives.

He’d also made a potion that healed my leg fast enough that I was able to walk, though with a dramatic limp. Try as I might, I couldn’t make my leg work the way it had before. There was no pain, just a stiffness that never seemed to go away. I lied to the woman and said I’d been born with it - which she accepted with another hesitant look at my face. It surprised me that she didn’t know or care who I was - I had no doubt she’d heard of me. 

Once we reached the front of the line, I sent a few letters to tie up loose ends. One to my father, who I figured I should probably talk to since it had been years. I also sent one to Hazel - assuming she was still alive - to thank her for her help. A few other letters were also sent out, though I didn’t know if anyone would get them in time. 

In time for me to defeat Mark and send him to the world of the dead where he belonged, I told myself. 

At first it had been confusing as to why he’d waited so long to attack. He had the Republic at his mercy - so why wait any longer to kill everyone enough to make him immortal. But talking with the woman in line reminded me that the Day of the Dead was supposed to be a day where ghosts roamed the mortal will. 

Which meant that - just like with the Hidden Arts - the line between the living and dead would be blurred. 

Mark would wait until tomorrow to make his move, which gave me a few hours to find out where he was and how to kill him before anyone else lost their life to him. For him to be alive this long meant someone was probably dying at least once an hour. 

I took my dinner at a tiny restaurant in the tourist sector of the city, flirting with the waiter to keep suspicion off of me. So far, none of the patrols had spotted me, recognized me, or at least cared enough to arrest me, which I guessed was a good sign. Maybe they thought I was dead due to the flood at the Redemption. 

The other reason for dining there was because I knew the Shadows and my family wouldn’t be likely to search here for me once they found out I was missing. 

Simon obviously knew I left, but the others weren’t aware because I didn’t want to have to say goodbye. My mother would be livid, but the others were probably filled with relief at the idea of never seeing me again. 

Of course, the first step in at least surviving was finding out where Mark was hiding. 

It didn’t take long to convince the waiter that I was a foreigner. Just like the woman, he was oblivious to my appearance. He was younger than I was, though, probably scrounging for whatever money he could make and I doubted he paid any attention to the news. 

Once he thought I was from Miryir I only had to ask a few questions regarding any sacred grounds located in the city. 

Yes, I’d lived in the Republic my entire life. Yes, I should know where stuff was. But my mother had never believed in religion so we never paid attention to temples or any sacred traditions. 

The waiter disappeared for a bit, evidently as clueless as me about local monuments. When he returned, he had an older man in tow that I assumed owned the restaurant. 

“This young woman wants to know about sacred sites,” the waiter explained politely. 

I smiled and waved, trying to pretend I was shy or something that would improve my act. “Hello, sir.”

That earned a small smile from the owner, who dismissed the waiter. I guessed flattery really did work. “Hello, ma’m. You’re interested in learning about the monuments of the Republic?”

I nodded. “Back home, we always heard about things like the Golden Road and the Day of Death. I’d always wanted to experience it and, well, my parents passed just last year and…” I sniffled quietly, pretending to be distraught. “I wanted to honor their memory. They always wanted to visit the Republic.”

Maybe I’d gone too far … 

The man was silent for a moment before he heaved a sigh. “I’m so sorry, miss. You must forgive me for bringing that up. Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to go?”

I shrugged, trying to sound confused or unsure - whatever would go best with my act. “Papa always told me stories of a monarch named - what was it - Millard? No, that’s not right. Martin?”

“Mark,” the man said, stiffening. 

“Ah, yes, precisely. Papa said that Mark used to have this temple that was supposedly really beautiful. He said the people that stand where it used to be often can feel the power of the world rushing beneath them.”

“The temple is gone,” the man commented, tone emotionless. “It was torn down less than twenty-five years after Mark’s assassination. And thank the ghosts for that.”

“Well what did they do with the space?” The trick now was to sound intrigued but not too specific that the man noticed something was up. For now, I had him hooked well enough with my sob story. 

“There’s a Council building there now,” the man answered. “The Court building, I think. But they won’t let tourists in to visit.”

“Pity,” I sighed, pretending to be heartbroken. “I guess the only thing left is to head back to Miryir now. Thanks for all your help, sir. May the ghosts smile upon you.” 

He waved goodbye as I got up, making a show of gathering my things before slipping out of the store. The man had given me enough information that I could guess where Mark was - and all based off of dreams too. 

Besides, I didn’t need a way into the Court building. 

I just needed a way to the roof.

Author's Note

Getting close to the end! Next scenes will probably be pretty intense.