Elemental (12 page)

I rolled my eyes and looked away. He didn’t
see the gesture through my mask, but I knew I’d done it, and that
was enough. Sometimes I respected Malik, sometimes I outright hated
him, and other times he just annoyed the crap out of me.

He didn’t seem to realize this was my first
real experience away from the Mamood in ten out of my seventeen
pitiful years. I didn’t know anything beyond Mamood architecture,
Mamood dress, Mamood military—and even that I’d only seen during
the past two days. Seeing something new, something totally
different from anything my captors could have come up with, made me
realize there was more to this galaxy than I’d ever imagined. It
made me realize I really could hope, if even for a short while. It
was enough to make my heart want to burst from its cage, just
thinking of that hope.

The truth was, the contrasting differences
between what I’d seen already of Soltak and the Mamood Fiefdom
reminded me of how I’d felt when I’d first stepped off
Sho’ful
—the difference between light and darkness, beauty
and nothingness.

Malik could never understand that because
his thinking belonged with the Mamood, like a blind man belonged to
the darkness. For this reason only, he couldn’t appreciate the
beauty of the lakes and the plains as we sped over them—wisps of
alternating blue and green—or the towers around us, rising up like
crystal spikes and swaying in the breeze. He couldn’t appreciate
the Soltakian’s affinity with nature because he belonged to the
nation of conquerors.

I almost felt bad for him—almost. He may’ve
been raised with Mamood ideals all his life, but that didn’t mean
he had to continue in their ignorance when something better was put
in front of him. But then, I could no more expect Malik to see the
truth than I could expect a blind man to see the sun. Sometimes,
the blackness was too heavy, too permanent.

I knew what that was like.

We flew silently for several minutes,
weaving past the towers and, at times, flocks of other speeders.
Malik seemed content to ignore me, and if I was being honest with
myself, I had to admit I preferred the silence. I tried to think of
only the sun beating down on my shoulders, the air whipping past my
covered face. I was tired, physically and mentally, of thinking
about anything else. And I most certainly did not want to remember
my… encounter… with the Delsa-Prime, but it crept in there
anyway.

I shook my head to shove the images away. It
didn’t help. I could still feel the ghost of his fingers on my
skin, sending chills crawling up my spine.

My body convulsed.

Malik turned his head to look at me. I
pretended not to notice.

He returned his gaze forward and took a deep
breath. “So… are you going to tell me what that was earlier?”

I cringed. It didn’t really surprise me we’d
been thinking about the same thing, but I didn’t want to talk about
it. There was no explanation I could give. I had no more idea of
what was going on with me than he did.

I doubted he was the type to let his
questions go unanswered, though, so I gave him the truth. “I don’t
know.”

“You don’t know.”

“No.”

He simply nodded his head.

“Look,” I said. “I wanted to say thanks for
what you did. You saved me… from becoming a monster.”

He sighed. “You’re welcome.”

“I know you hate me, and to be honest, I
understand. It isn’t like I haven’t completely ruined your life
since the moment we met, so I know that you killing a man for me is
only one of the many things I’m going to have to owe you for.”

His hand on the steering console clenched.
“Hmmm…”

“What?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, and then
ran his hand through the tight curls of his hair. “I never hated
you, Ella.” I thought for a second I saw his jaw clench, but he
continued on before I could be sure. “I only hated the situation.
And as far as ruining my life, well, I did a pretty good job of
that myself, so don’t take all the blame.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, my father is pretty furious.” He
looked at me out of the corner of his eye. His gaze made me jump it
was so intense, burning. “When news got around that he’d helped in
your escape—” He paused to make sure I was looking at him. “And
yes, they
do
know. Our only good fortune is that they’d
never guess we’d still head to Soltak. Well, like I said, when they
found out my father had helped, he was kicked off of the Council.
He’s no longer one of the Leaders of Talia. Because I chose you
over him,” the corner of his mouth twisted up in a half-sneer, “he
disowned me. I can never show my face in any part of the Mamood
Fiefdom again.”

I groaned. The acids in my stomach were
churning to punish me. Bringer of destruction… bringer of
destruction—that’s all I could think of. That’s all I was. Every
life I touched was going to be destroyed in one way or another.

“So killing a rather high-ranking officer
may not win me any points,” Malik continued, “but it didn’t make my
situation any worse, either.”

I wanted to close my eyes and pretend I was
back on
Sho’ful
, that I hadn’t escaped, that all of this was
only a horrible nightmare—except my dreams were never nightmares.
How many more would have to suffer? How many more would have to
die?

“So that’s why you wouldn’t let me turn
myself in.” As ironic as it was, it seemed those I was destined to
destroy were willing to give up everything for me. How odd. Why
couldn’t they have picked someone a bit more deserving to be on the
receiving end of their heroics?

“If I ever hear that idiotic idea come out
of your mouth again,” he growled, “I swear I’ll keep you locked up
myself. I didn’t give up my life to save yours just so you could
throw it away.”

I didn’t answer him. There was no point.
Obviously I couldn’t tell him my plan hadn’t changed. Part of me
was exceedingly glad I’d get to see Meir again, but the other part
was drowning in the guilt of what it would mean for him. I wouldn’t
prolong this any longer than I had to.

Paved streets started dotting the ground as
the lakes thinned beneath us. Malik zigzagged past a growing swarm
of pedestrians as we entered a shopping district. Storefronts
littered with golden trinkets and other delicate pretties lined a
broad avenue filled with hundreds of people in robes and dresses.
Some of them sported manes of feathers that glowed on and off with
colored lights. I couldn’t help but wonder which planet they’d come
from. Malik parked the speeder at the corner of the avenue and a
narrow side street packed with similar vehicles.

As I hurried along behind Malik, trying
desperately to keep up with his quick pace—and admittedly proud of
myself for not becoming winded like I would’ve just a day ago—I
became aware of the fact that I didn’t like crowds. With each brush
of a passing stranger’s shoulder against my arm, my skin crawled
and my stomach twisted into a knot. When a group of twenty or so
children pushed past me with their grubby little hands out in front
of them to clear the way, I started hyperventilating. I had to stop
and bend over with my head between my knees.

I don’t know how long it took for Malik to
notice that I no longer followed him—I was too busy listening to
the drumming of my pulse in my eardrums—but eventually, I felt his
hands on my arms, lifting me up. He walked more slowly this time
with one arm around me and guided me through the crowd, limiting my
physical contact with anyone. I would be forever grateful to him.
Already, I began to forget how much I’d previously hated him.

We stopped near the end of the boulevard
near a tiny shop that was less ostentatious than some of the other
marble and gold-trimmed stores that had sharply dressed men waiting
to open the door for customers. No one waited here and, to my great
satisfaction, no crowd of customers pushed to get in.

I took in a deep breath and pulled it all
the way to the tips of my toes. Jasmine and musk wafted its way to
my nose as Malik held the shop’s door open for me. I smiled at him
as I walked through, and then rolled my eyes when I remembered
that—duh—he couldn’t see my face.

I shook my head and chuckled, and then
looked at the inside of the shop. I stopped dead in my tracks,
partly out of shock and partly because there was no more room for
me to walk. The tiny shop was packed full of dresses, shirts,
pants, skirts, scarves, and every other manner of clothes in more
colors than I’d ever seen. Items on the shelves and racks were
almost completely hidden by articles of clothing piled on top of
them and falling to the floor. It looked like someone had broken
into the shop, ransacked it, and left without taking a single
thing. I wondered how many hours it would take for me to find
anything in all the mess.

Malik nudged me forward so he could enter
the store. I had to kick a pile of men’s pants out of the way to
give him room.

“Welcome, welcome,” a high-pitched, babyish
voice called. The words came out muffled, like the speaker was
buried somewhere beneath her own wares. I couldn’t locate her until
some clothes on the racks swung back and forth in the middle of the
shop. She made a straight line for us through the mess, carelessly
letting her wares fall from the racks to the floor as she passed.
She was nearly to us before I could see her bobbing grey head. She
was shorter than the racks of clothes, and round.

When she stopped in front of us, her hands
started fluttering over her flowery dress, smoothing the wrinkles
and repositioning it where it was twisted to the side. From the big
grin that stretched across her face, I guessed she wasn’t
accustomed to many customers.

I smiled back, forgetting the mask for the
second time.

“Is there anything in particular you are
looking for?” she asked in her babyish voice, looking at Malik. “I
have many selections of men’s clothes.” She frowned. “Though no
Mamood robes.” Her face brightened again. “I do have Mosandarian
and Deluvian outfits, which I’ve been told by many Mamood customers
are just as comfortable as robes. Perhaps you could come to the
back and I could take your—”

“I’m actually looking for something for my
slaves,” Malik interrupted. “A simple dress for this one,” he
rested his hand on my shoulder, “and a pair of pants and a shirt
for my other one.”

The woman’s lips puckered as she looked me
over. “Hmm… I
may
have something small enough for you.” Her
eyes sparkled in one of those
a-ha
moments people sometimes
have. “I know just the thing! Come with me, come with me.” She
shuffled her way through the sea of clothes to the back of the
store and I followed reluctantly behind.

The back storeroom made the front entrance
look almost tidy. She’d stacked reams of unused cloth against the
walls with legless mannequins crowding in front of them. As small
as I was, I had difficulty blazing a trail through all the stuff,
and I wondered how the portly little woman managed it. But manage
it she did, skillfully pushing her way through unhindered as if
there were nothing there. I sighed with relief when we finally
stopped in front of a small wooden platform in front of a
floor-to-ceiling mirror.

“Just step up there and I’ll go find the
dress.” She started to skitter away, but stopped suddenly and spun
around. “Go ahead and take off your clothes. I’ll be back in a
minute!”

I tugged at a piece of my uniform while
avoiding eye contact with the imposing mirror in front of me. I’d
seen my decrepit body in small glimpses here and there, though I’d
never seen it all together, and never had I seen my face. I wasn’t
ready to now. I knew if I really looked at myself, the horror of
the past ten years would flood over me. I wasn’t prepared to face
my own reality. The theory of what I looked like was enough to
disgust me. I remembered perfectly well how Malik had reacted when
he’d first seen me. The shock, the pity, the care he took to not
look at me again.

I peeled my Tarmean armor off one section at
a time, saving the mask for last. I yanked it away from my head and
tossed it to the floor. My eyes stayed shut. After a few seconds,
deep curiosity began to war with my terror. I could chance a peek.
No harm would be done. A little, tiny peek…

No.

I clenched my eyes even tighter. Nothing
good could come from seeing what I’d become. I was vain enough to
care. Of course I wanted to be beautiful. It would’ve been nice to
know I had creamy skin like Malik, or bright eyes like
Cailen—something to make me feel like not everything about me had
been corrupted and ruined by the Mamood. Such hopes were frivolous,
though.

The shopkeeper was back and pressing
something against the front of my exposed body. “Hmm… yes, I think
this will do. Perhaps a little too short around the ankles, but
your weight isn’t exactly proportionate to your height. Go ahead
and try it on, dear.”

I had to open my eyes now. The woman stood
there, waiting for me to take the dress from her to put it over my
head. I knew I wasn’t coordinated enough to fumble my way through
dressing myself blind.

I took a deep breath, pulling it all the way
to my toes again. I just needed to relax. I could manage to do this
without catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. And if I
couldn’t, who cared? That’s what I tried to convince myself, at
least, because I knew that I
would
care. I’d care very
much.

I took another breath. Better to just get it
done and over with. Stop the procrastinating. I popped my eyes
open, ready to be assaulted with an image out of a nightmare. What
stared back at me was very sad. Anxiety was written on the
creature’s face in the crease between her brows and tightness of
her lips. Her body looked… skeletal. There really was no better
explanation. She had no woman’s chest to speak of, and her stomach
was sunken rather than flat.