Authors: Mari Mancusi
“That will have tripped the alarm,” the woman informs me, speaking for the first time in a low voice. “We have to hurry.”
She steps over the jagged glass and out onto the balcony. There, she tosses one end of her rope over the side and clips the other to the banister. I watch, worried about what she’s got planned. We must be four stories up.
She hands me what looks like a rock-climbing harness, and instructs me to slip it around my waist. Then she clicks me into the rope. “Climb over the balcony,” she instructs. “And on my word, jump.”
I have little alternative. I do as she says, my toes curling against the safety of the balcony as I brace and try to psych myself up for the impending rappel.
My rescuer pauses for a moment, as if listening for something, then pulls the sword belt off her waist and wraps it around mine. “I thought you might like it back,” she explains after I give her a confused look. Her voice reveals a smile I can’t see under her mask. “I’ve been keeping it safe for you while you’ve been gone.”
I look down at the sword and pull it halfway out of its scabbard. The blade flashes under the artificial light, almost giving off an otherworldly glow. Did this belong to Mariah? I caress the hilt and something inside me flashes with uneasy recognition. Have I worn this blade before? Somewhere? Sometime? In some other life? I remember the photo in Dawn’s living room, and I shiver.
“Uh, thanks,” I say, not quite sure what else to do.
The woman’s eyes crinkle from under her hood, and I can’t tell if she’s smiling or holding back tears. “I love you, Mariah, my sister,” she says. “Whatever happens, always remember that.”
I open my mouth to speak, but the words die in my throat as a sudden pounding comes at the bedroom door. They’ve found us.
“I jammed the door signal,” the woman tells me. “But it won’t take them long to break through. You have to jump now.”
I glance over the railing at the ground far beneath my feet. Unsure, afraid. “What about you?” I ask.
“Don’t worry about me. Just jump, Mariah. I’ll keep you safe. But you must go.”
Desperation in her voice compels me to obey. I take a deep breath, send up a small prayer, close my eyes, then step off the balcony. A moment later, I open my eyes to find myself rappelling down the side of the mansion, my feet hitting the outer wall for a moment then shooting out again as my rescuer lets out the rope. I grip the cord tightly, my fingers burning, threatening to lose their grip.
Without warning, the rope goes slack. I tumble out of control, the ground flying at my face at high speed. I reach out—a desperate, stupid attempt to cushion my fall—and land on my hand. My wrist gives way with a sickening crunch.
For a moment, I feel nothing. Then a sharp pain shoots through me and I’m forced to bite down on my lower lip to keep from screaming in agony. I grab at my wrist, pressing it against my stomach. It throbs in protest.
I look up to the balcony far above me, wondering what happened to the rope. The men must have broken through the door. They’ve likely got my rescuer and are in the process of dragging her away.
Her head appears for a brief moment. “Run, Mariah!” she screams down at me.
I don’t wait for a second invitation.
ELEVEN
I sprint across the lawn as fast as my legs can carry me, cradling my swollen wrist against my stomach, pain shooting up my arm at every step. I don’t know where to go, what to do; I just know I have to keep moving. Because whoever it was who got to my rescuer is sure to come after me next.
I run down the streets, trying to remember the route to Luna Park. If only I can get there, find Moongazer Palace, I could try to journey back to Earth on my own. But even as the plan forms in my mind, I realize it won’t work. Earth is not the safe haven I want it to be. Not when Duske clearly knows how to find me there. What’s to stop him from dragging me back once again? Or sending his goons in to get rid of me once and for all?
No. I can’t go back. It’d be a death sentence. But what else can I do?
Find Dawn
.
An inner voice, powerful and demanding, thrusts the solution to the forefront of my brain. I try to shake it away; Dawn doesn’t even like me. He thinks I betrayed him and his people. He told me he was done forever. That he wouldn’t rescue me again, no matter what.
To me, you’ll always be a traitor.
But then I remember the pain in his eyes. The wistful glances he gave me when he thought I wasn’t looking. He may talk a tough game, but somehow I’m sure, at the end of the day, he’d never allow his precious Mariah to come to harm.
I sprint around a corner and realize I’ve somehow found the outskirts of Luna Park. I pass the Park Terrace restaurant, the corner Starbucks, the bulletin boards advertising Moongazing. I pass them all, until the façade fades away and the fancy neighborhood begins to deteriorate. At last I come to Moongazer Palace itself, in all its gaudy glory. I stop, panting hard. My wrist has now swollen to the size of a softball.
I give a longing glance at Moongazer Palace, but then firm my resolve and instead locate the manhole cover Dawn showed me my first day on Terra: the rabbit hole leading to the Dark Side. I scramble to my knees and attempt to pry off the cover one-handed, praying it’s not locked from the other side. It’s not an easy task, but finally I manage to wrench it free, revealing the rickety metal ladder disappearing into the darkness. I crawl down the hole, pulling the cover over my head and begin a one-handed descent. Rung after rung; I wince at every step, straining to see.
I eventually reach the bottom, jump down onto the metal road. I blink a few times, my eyes adjusting to the darkness and dim track lighting, then suck in a deep breath. I’m safe. Well, sort of. Okay, probably not that safe at all. But the immediate threat is gone. I can stop running. Catch my breath. Figure out what to do next.
If only my rescuer had made it out, too. But, in a way, it seemed almost as if she expected to be caught. The way she looked at me. The fact she’d given me the sword. It was as if she knew it was a kamikaze mission.
And yet, she willingly sacrificed herself to get me out. Sacrificed her own life to save mine. Why? Because she thinks I’m Mariah?
I search my brain for some kind of memory, some dim recollection of another life. One where I’m a big-time rebel leader working hard to save her people from an oppressive dystopian regime. But it’s no use. No matter how hard I try, I still feel like me—Skye Brown, normal everyday college kid. There’s nothing inside me that remotely resembles Mariah.
The Eclipsers are going to be so disappointed. And while it’s certainly not my fault that I wasn’t born the girl they think I was, I feel a stab of guilt just the same.
I trudge down the underground road, heading in the direction of the Dark Side city where I assume I’ll be able to find Dawn. I’m exhausted, and searing pain burns my arm at every step. My kingdom for one of those hover bikes. The road is empty, silent, save for the whirring of the ventilation fans. I walk on.
Finally, after what seems like three forevers, I notice a twinkling light ahead. Relief floods me as I recognize the gates to the Dark Side. I made it. I approach the gate, wondering how I’m going to gain entrance. Then I notice the thumb sensor. Cautiously, I press my thumb against the pad, praying it will work.
A moment later, the doors creak open, welcoming me with giant metal arms. I’m too exhausted to ponder the implications of the gate recognizing my thumbprint. I have to find Dawn.
And so I wander down the twisty antlike passageways until I step out into the town square. The place is bustling, as it was the first time, but a hush falls over the people as they recognize me. A moment later, I find myself once again engulfed by the crowd.
“Mariah! Are you okay?” asks a thin, middle-aged woman with missing front teeth and a second pair of lips.
“What did they do to you?” demands a salt-and-pepper-bearded man with three breasts.
“What happened to your wrist?” a young boy with one leg asks, pointing to my swollen arm.
Overwhelmed, I somehow manage to hold up my good hand to silence them. “Please,” I croak. “I need Dawn. Is he here?”
“Go get Dawn!” commands the middle-aged woman to a small boy, presumably her son. “Tell him Mariah needs him!”
The boy takes off. I stare down at my feet, feeling unnerved by all the sympathetic eyes in the crowd. These are good people. They want to help. The nagging guilt returns as I realize I will eventually have to disappoint them. How could Mariah have betrayed these poor people? Sold them out for a better life? It seems inconceivable that someone could do that.
The crowd parts as Dawn approaches. His arms are crossed over his chest and his blue eyes seem to pierce into my soul while his mouth dips to a frown. He doesn’t look happy to see me. At least, not as relieved as I am to see him.
“Dawn!” I cry, grateful to lay eyes on a familiar face. “Thank God I found you.”
He stops in front of me, staring me down with obvious disapproval. Then he drags me away from the others. I can feel their hopeful stares as we walk to a quiet part of the town square. “So, you’ve decided to slum it again. Or have you been sent to spy on us by your new friend?”
“What? No! I—” My face falls as I realize he thinks I’ve sided with Duske and his Circle of Eight once again. Not that I blame him. In a way I did. But how can I explain it wasn’t of my own free will?
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough, Mariah?” Dawn continues. “Can’t you leave us well enough alone?”
“You don’t understand,” I say, searching his angry eyes with my own. “They’re … they’re trying to kill me. I barely escaped with my life.”
He snorts. “Please. I’d kill you myself if I didn’t think death was too kind a punishment for a traitor like you. You—” He stops short, his eyes falling on the sword strapped to my waist. “How did you get that?” he demands.
I glance down at the weapon. “The woman who rescued me. She helped me escape Duske’s house. She saved my life.”
“Where is she now?”
I was afraid he’d ask that. “I don’t know. They caught her …” I trail off, hanging my head. “I’m afraid she sacrificed herself for me.”
“She’s an idiot then. You’re not worth it.”
Anger burns at my gut at his repeated condemnation. I came all this way to find him. A million painful steps. How dare he treat me this way? “Look,” I say, incensed. “You can’t blame me for crimes I didn’t commit!”
He shakes his head wearily but doesn’t answer.
“Dawn, she’s hurt!” cries the bearded man from across the way. “You must heal her.” I glance over at him, gratefully. Thank goodness not everyone thinks Mariah’s the bad guy here.
The crowd takes up the cry for healing. “Yes, Dawn. Mariah’s hurt!”
Dawn releases a long sigh, then gently picks up my wrist in his large hands, lifting it to get a better view. I can’t avoid a cry of agony as burning pain shoots up my arm. He runs a light cool finger across my skin, closing his eyes.
“It’s broken,” he remarks without emotion. “Pretty badly, too, by the feel of it.”
“It really hurts,” I admit, a tear escaping the corner of my eye and dripping down my cheek. I hate crying, but the pain, along with the emotional stress and uncertainty, is too much.
Dawn pauses a moment, then seems to come to a decision. “Fine. Come inside. Let’s see what I can do for you.”
He lowers my wrist tenderly, as if wary of causing me any more pain. I meekly follow him through the crowd, out of the town square, and into the tunnel that leads to his little cave house. Once we’re inside, he shuts the door behind us and motions for me to sit down on the futon. I sink down into the cushion, grateful to finally be off my feet.
“They were going to kill me,” I repeat, half to myself and half to Dawn. He nods slowly and takes my arm and places it across his thigh. A small tingle tickles my stomach as I feel his heat against my bare wrist. His trousers are soft, cottonlike. His touch is careful. Gentle.
“Close your eyes,” he instructs in a low voice. “And imagine something pleasant.”
I do as he says, too tired to ask why. A moment later I feel his soft fingers trip up my arm, wispy and slow, trailing a warmth that relaxes and soothes. I try to do as he says, to think of something pleasant. But all I can concentrate on is his touch. Which is, admittedly, pretty pleasant.
A slash of pain jerks through me. My eyes fly open. Dawn has his own eyes closed as he grips my arm in his hands. I stare down at my wrist and watch with horrified fascination as the bone—the one that just a second ago had been bent at a weird angle—slides back into place. The swelling is visibly retreating. My arm still hurts, yet at the same time I feel a strange, overwhelming peace washing over me, almost as if I’ve been drugged.
A moment later Dawn opens his eyes. He looks at me, his expression one of amused disapproval. “You cheated,” he accuses. “You peeked.”
I can feel my face heat. “That was amazing,” I say. I lift my arm off his lap, flexing my fingers. My wrist still feels a bit stiff, but the bones have somehow knitted together, mended in a way that should have taken six weeks and a cast. “How did you do that?”
Dawn shrugs. “It’s a long story. One you used to know.” He rises to his feet. “But you should be okay now. While I was in there, I also located the tracking nano they implanted into your bloodstream. That’s how Duske and his goons found you so quickly last time. I believe I was able to disable it, but I’m going to activate the house scrambler as well. Just in case.”
I look up at him. “House scrambler?”
“Electronic interference. Makes it tougher for the government to locate people. We’ll hang out here tonight—we’re running too close to curfew to leave now—but tomorrow morning I’ll take you to the Eclipsers. One of their doctors should be able to ensure that your nanotracker is deactivated for good.”
“Thank you,” I say gratefully. “I had no idea I was being tracked. When I went off with Duske, he tricked me. He pretended to be one of the Eclipsers and he told me he knew I was from Earth. He promised me more asthma medication.” I give him a rueful look. “I didn’t mean to—I mean, I had no idea.” I sigh. “Basically I’m a big blind idiot, stumbling around in a world I don’t recognize. I don’t know where I am, who to trust.” I shrug helplessly.