Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

(I know the picture kind of doesn’t match the description in the story, but I couldn’t find anything that matched. If you can, please email me at [email protected]. It would be very much appreciated!)

The first thing that really hit me were the trees; they were an eerie dark-blue, maybe with a couple gray undertones. It was night, and the sky was the color of boiling blood, the water all but cooked out and the remainder was left thick, suffocating, and sickening. No stars were out tonight, it seemed. I was floating down a dark, murky river in a rickety boat. It almost looked like it would fall apart at any moment, vaulting me into the sinister waters below my boat. The waters were the color of pitch, and they occasionally moved in the opposite direction of the weak, but tenacious current. My imagination had a wickedly good time with imagining what nasties lay in wait.

What really got at me the most was the fact that it was silent- no sound, no breeze, nothing. It was like the world was holding its breath, waiting for imminent doom of one thing or another.

I resisted the urge to call out, choosing instead to hide in the boat. There was a thick mist clinging to the ground and water for as far as the eye could see, except for the sky. I held my breath, waiting with the rest of this haunting wood. For what, I knew not.

Ages passed me by, and I crouched. The tension could be drawn from the air, but nothing rose to do so. Would anything come?

Would anything ever come?

I watched for eons, holding my breath, waiting for something, anything. My skin turned paper-thin, and my eyes grew cataracts. My joints became knobbly, swollen with arthritis. Still, nothing changed…

As I drew my final breaths, I found the courage to stand. I struggled, leaning heavily on the sides of the boat. During the course of my life, it had started to crumble, rot, and mold. There were holes in the bottom, but none of the pitch-like water had started to leak in. Oddly enough, it stayed right where it would have been had the boat not been pitted the way it was.

I beckoned to the besmirched water, and it answered my call by coming through the hole and wrapping itself around my index finger. It was smooth, like a rod of stainless steel, yet flowing at my will.

Now the wood was waiting on me.

*****

I woke up in a frantic mess. I wasn’t on an ill-boding river; I was back in my new room. Reality sunk in again as I remembered what had happened, as well as what I had learned. Underneath my grief was a sizable amount of self-loathing; I had cried all over Tam’s shoulder like a little baby!

I drew a quick breath, and gathered the abundance of revulsion inside me and pushed it to the surface, leaving no room for my self-pity and grief. My feet met the floor with a soft whap as I got out of bed quickly, dressing in what I found in the armoire that had escaped my attention before. It had the same color theme as the other clothes that I had started with here; silver, dark-blue, and dark-purple, and the rest of the colors of the night sky. I had a high-collared training jerkin with a ¾ sleeve shirt underneath. The pants came down mid-calf, allowing for them to not be smothering, but not show too much skin as well. The material was the same as my first set of duds; easy to move around in, until something sharp or fast hit it.

I slipped the simple outfit on, as well as the boots that I had been given before. (I took out the boot daggers and set them on the armoire; I didn’t want to take off my boot and end up impaling them into the floor. It was a bit embarrassing for me.)

Someone knocked on my door just as I was making my bed up all neat and tidy. “Come in!” I half-shouted.

Gina poked her head out from behind the door. A moment later, Zeke’s head appeared above her’s.

“Zeke, what the hell are you doing here? It’s one thing to let you do a rescue operation, but come here?” I fired the questions off rapidly, not thinking about what was coming out of my mouth.

“The Lost Boys are pretty much political activists, and they tend to work with the Hunters of Artemis,” said Gina quickly.

I blushed as Zeke made a face at me. I cringed at myself inwardly for most likely ruining my chances with a very cute boy. “Um, sorry about that…” I managed to stutter out, wrapping my fingers in my hair nervously.

He laughed it off. “No, that’s good! Now you won’t be fooled by my fellow seat holders for the tales. Anyways, we came here to give you your introductory haircut,” he said, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

I looked at the two of them. “My introductory haircut,” I replied slowly, drawing the words through my lips slowly.

“Yeah, the trialees have to change their look completely,” clarified Gina.

Right then, I had a mass of black curls that reached my back and no make up. Did this mean that I’d have to go full-on s**t?

As if hearing my question, Zeke corrected Gina’s words. “Well, just something that is more functional. You should see what some of the trialees come out of the barber shops with.”

I grinned. “Well, I suppose we should get going, then.” I walked out the door, and followed my new two friends. The dream faded into the back of my mind for the moment when I would need it the most.