Jamyria: The Entering (The Jamyria Series Book 1) (13 page)

The Crewman isn’t amused. “For a woman who can’t remember the length of time she’s spent in this world, I find it hard to believe this half-mark is the only one you know.”

The other stifles a laugh.

Janie shuts her eyes, nearly shaking as the blood beneath her cheeks boils. “Do not call him that. He may not be one of the Queen’s pets, like yourself, but you should still respect him as an original Mark. Have you any idea what this man has —”

“Janie, dear.” Nick catches hold of her shoulder just as she bends her knees to lunge at the man. “You’re wrinkling poor Margo’s birthday present.” The sound of her name causes Margo to whimper again, cowering away from the scene. The quiet plea reaches Cameron, and he instinctively takes a couple steps toward her.

A fist suddenly grabs a handful of his shirt, the other aims for his jaw. Margo sees it coming before it can happen — the coming pain, the blood spilling down his chin — but the reaction this man elicits catches her blindly. A lurching feeling bubbles within her, the nausea and tingling swirling her head, warping reality. Her focus blurs and brightens, the world around her blending into a mass of white like a photograph fading away after being left in sunlight for too long.

The fist is flying toward his face, but all Margo can do is work through whatever sort of episode she is having.

A hand reaches to her head, wrapping fingers through her hair and pulling till taut. She gags, fighting back bile. The fingers pull tighter as the tingling sensation overpowers her. It is coming, she can sense something unknown at its peak. An explosion. The brightness is coming to a close. The last bit of turquoise sky fades. One final peek at the dusty streets and everything is white.

Boorish laughter erupts. “Half-mark!” the man barks, followed by more laughing.

The white overlay disappears quickly, and Margo finds herself entangled in bounds of fabric still kneeling in front of Cameron’s house.

The man tosses an unharmed Cameron aside and marches over to where Nick stands with his marked hand outstretched in front of him as if he is planning to attack. “You’re an embarrassment to all Marks,” he spits in Nick’s face. “Why can’t you just die already? Let’s go.” He signals for the other, who begrudgingly kicks over the pile of firewood kept out front.

Once they are well down the road and out of sight, Cameron grabs Margo’s wrist and carefully untangles her fingers from her hair. “Margo,” he whispers. “I need you to carefully stand up and get inside. Quickly.”

She doesn’t understand the urgency in his tone, or how her own hands were the one grasping her hair. At least her sudden panic attack has passed. He pulls her to her feet and cautiously guides her over to the sofa. Nick and Janie enter the room silently, shutting the door behind them.

“My dear, are you alright?” Nick puts a hand to Margo’s cheek.

“Great. Guess I’m not adjusting to Jamyrian stew as well as I’d thought.” She smiles weakly, placing a hand over her stomach. “And sorry to admit, this Mark may be more of a coward than expected.”

The three of them stare down at her in silence, Janie with trembling fingers placed upon her lips.

“But don’t worry,” Margo continues. “I’m not going to chicken out or anything. I will find a way to get us out of here.”

“That was too close,” Cameron whispers.

“Can you imagine what they would have done? I’ve only heard the rumors of the previous Mark’s death, and it was not pretty.” Janie shakes.

“What are you talking about?” Margo demands.

Cameron crosses the room and sits next to her. He takes her hands in his. “You nearly lost control of your power.”

She blinks back in confusion.

“Luckily those two dimwits didn’t notice, thanks to Nick’s diversion,” explains Cameron. Nick winks in the background. “Your marks were glowing under that tablecloth and everything.”

“Strong emotions can trigger your power, my dear,” Nick repeats his lesson.

“But that can’t be right. I just felt a little lightheaded.” Margo pulls the cloth tighter around her shoulders, its fibers scratching her skin. “And a little…scared.”

“Scared enough to lose it, it would seem.” Nick sets a vase back in its upright position on a shelf, as if tidying the one item could right all of the others. “Perhaps she isn’t quite ready....” he muses.

Margo starts to protest, but Janie’s trilling voice cuts her off. “
Now
you want her to stay in the Central City, Nick Thomas? Now that the Queen’s Crew have arrived? They’ll be back to sweep the town again and you know it.”

“And so the tables have turned,” he mumbles, flitting the spine of a book he’d just replaced. “Continue with the plan. But we’ll wait a couple of hours so not to draw suspicion. And, Margo, are you certain you’re alright?”

“Tired.” She leans back against the sofa. No one protests or speaks another word. It is too much to wrap her head around having seen firsthand the cruel men the Queen employs, and the doubt is beginning to build within her again. She hoped she’d simply be able to outwit her somehow, but if strength and nerves are to be involved, well then she is pretty much already dead.

Nearly an hour later Margo wakes. The aftereffects of her mark linger like sore muscles after a run. She could have made a thousand pennies with the energy she’d spared.

It takes no less than three minutes for Janie’s mindless chatter to commence. She worries of the new dangers in the Central City, and how everyone in town will be on high alert for the next few days and how she hopes the Crew will pass through quickly when their search comes to an end. How Margo will be long gone by then.

Nick eventually clears his throat to interrupt her babbling. Janie’s worrisome smile — Margo has yet to understand how she can wear a fitting smile for every emotion — turns into one of excitement. “This is for you,” says Nick. He hands Margo the paper package that Janie had been carrying on her way there.

“Nick, you didn’t have to —”

“It’s more a practicality than a present.” His grin crinkles the corners of his eyes. “I
do
hope you like it, though.”

Margo’s cheeks warm as she accepts, carefully untying the twine that holds it together. She is partially embarrassed by his generosity. They hardly know each other, and she hadn’t thought to provide a parting gift.

The brown paper wrappings unfurl in layers that fall to the floor. Neatly folded within is an article of clothing crafted from caramel leather. She holds the beautiful jacket lined in gray fur out in front of her so it may fall open. An intricate pattern of stitching down its front creates a textured leaf pattern; its buttons are of carved bone. It is collarless much like a modern-day motorcycle jacket while elegantly capturing vintage charm. She wonders how someone who’s been out of touch with reality for over a century could have hit her style spot on.

“Nick!” she says.

“It’s for when there’s a new enterer. The snow can be a shock, and you don’t look very well dressed….”

“It’s perfect!” Margo breathes, holding it up to measure it against her torso. “It’s just my style.”

Janie winks a chocolate brown eye at Margo from behind her red glasses. It seems her fashion sense has something to do with this. “Try it on,” she encourages.

It stops just above Margo’s hip, fitting her curves well. About an inch of fur sticks out from the sleeves and edges. “It’s perfect,” she repeats. “Thank you again, Nick.”

“Well...” He blushes. “Now, it was nothing. I’m just glad you like it.”

“I love it,” Margo smiles taking it off and folding it into her bag for a colder day.

“It’s also a good cover-up for those marks. And speaking of that, make sure you keep your hair down when you’re in public, your arms close to your chest.”

“I’ll stay hidden.” Panic rushes through her as she suddenly realizes this is it. She rises to her feet. The others follow her cue. Now is as good a time as ever.

“You look worried, hon,” says Janie.

“Not worried. Just ready.” She lets out a refreshing breath, expelling every negative thought and memory from the morning. Ignoring the fact that those men were probably just the first of many encounters.

“I packed some more food while you were sleeping,” says Cameron holding up a bag and the sack he had put the cocoban in before.

“I should probably drop some weight, I guess.” Margo pulls out her own bag and plops the textbooks she’d been lugging around for the past two days on Cameron’s table. “Well, I guess this is it, then,” she announces, giving a tight nod.

“If you ever need anything,” Nick says. “Come back, and we’ll be waiting for you.” He reaches out and pulls Margo into an awkward sideways hug. He turns to Cameron placing his hand on his shoulder. “I trust you to take care of her. I know you will.”

“Don’t worry,” Cameron says with a smirk. “I won’t let anything happen.”

Janie is already bawling, handkerchief masking half her splotchy face. “I’m on emotional overload. Come here,” she cries, squeezing them both in her arms. “I miss you two already.”

Cameron locks up his home with a grim face. “You will keep after the animals, right?”

“Of course,” Nick says solemnly.

Margo’s first gift from Nick waits out back. The tall animal bows its head to greet Cameron, who holds some type of dried large-petaled flower as a treat for the shika.

Even with her head drawn all the way back, Margo cannot see the top of the animal’s back, but mounting the thing no longer worries her. Cameron showed her how simple it was last night. As soon as she reaches it, the shika lifts it hoofed foot up in the air about as high as Margo’s knee, which she steps on while grabbing a fistful of hair on the animal’s back. Her balance isn’t very steady but there is no time to focus on that. The shika swings its foot upwards sending shaky Margo up with it like an elevator. She kicks a leg over before it can drop its foot back down. She hasn’t even settled into the saddle when Cameron mounts and sits down in front of her.

“Show off,” she mutters.

Nick and Janie stand back. “Be discreet until you’re above,” Nick warns. “Don’t want our friends to stop back by.”

Margo shudders, clinging tighter to Cameron’s back.

“Next time you see us,” Cameron starts. Margo can guess what he was going to say, but there are a few people around the streets. Instead, he finishes it with, “It’ll be somewhere much nicer.”

Nick winks at them. Janie leans against him for support with a handkerchief obscuring her face. Margo waves one last time and watches the two of them grow smaller behind them. And once they are beyond the town’s wall, the nerves hit full force.

They are really on their way.

Chapter Eleven: Misunderstood

The city sinks into the horizon behind Margo and Cameron. They approach the coming crescent of the cliff’s shadows, which gradually swallows them in darkness. The animal moves along a sandy narrow pathway between jagged rocks with ease.

“So how exactly are we supposed to get up top with this…thing?” Margo cannot conjure up the proper word for the animal.

Cameron turns back just to show off his grin. “Shikas are good climbers.”

She swallows nervously. “You’d think someone would have thought to make stairs.”

“They did.”

She pauses before blurting, “Don’t you think —”

“This way is faster,” he cuts her off.

The shadow pulls them in deeper, the darkness contradicting the turquoise sky like sunshine during heavy rain.

“Some people have traveled far into the mountains,” Cameron says. “They say the city looks like a crater on the moon. The cliffs make a ring, a perfect circle.”

“Are we on a different planet?” Margo suddenly asks. This question has been burning inside her since she entered. “I mean, that globe could have teleported us somewhere else in the universe.”

He shrugs. “How would we know? There’s no manual or guide to entering. You just do. And you’re expected to deal with it, or else lose your sanity along the way, as many have.”

The shika’s steps click as the sandy path disappears beneath its hooves and turns to stone. “Like this witch we’re supposed to find…?”

Cameron nods. “Are you ready?”

“Oh…” Margo was so lost in thought she hadn’t realized the wall was upon them. Its knobby surface soars into the sky obstructing the view of the strange forest above. It appears even steeper from below, a sheet of gray stone fading into the blue. Rocks on the floor jut out like daggers on point. It would be a painful fall.

Cameron squeezes her hand in his, pulling her arm until it’s tight around his waist. Before Margo can inquire as to how this will work, the animal rears up on its hind legs. Letting out a small yelp, she clings onto Cameron. The shika digs its hooves into the rocks sending a shower of splinters below. Margo forces her eyes shut and turns her head away. It pulls itself up the cliff. For a second, there is a wave of vertigo as the animal’s back feet leave the ground, and the feeling of weightlessness lurches at Margo’s stomach. The wind sways them back and forth.

The shika plunges its hooves into the stone gradually pulling them higher with the grinding sound of breaking rocks. Margo’s spine is sent on edge. In less than a minute, sunlight begins trickling over, and with a light bounce in its step, the shika gracefully steps onto the flat ground. They face the edge of the familiar forest.

Though her lock on Cameron’s waist is still clenched, she comments, “Not bad.” Cameron turns the animal back to look down upon the city one last time. The tiny dots of people scatter about mindlessly like mice in a cage. Nothing to do, no one to see, nowhere to go. Just existing in this place. Now that the community is alive and bustling, the people look even more miserable from afar, as if they are each on death row awaiting the dreaded day when it will undoubtedly come to an end. “Nobody looks happy.”

Cameron remains silent taking in the view. Upon sharing the gloomy town for nearly a year he must have found truth in her words. “They’re not,” he chokes. “Let’s get moving.”

He tugs at the reins to turn the animal back toward the forest. Margo’s gaze does not leave the village until it nearly strains her neck. The shika wails somberly as if it understands the meaning of their departure, and it slowly steps into the woods.

“Hold on.” Cameron lightly flicks at the reins. The animal’s pace picks up moving swiftly and weaving between trees. With the shika’s long legs, it is hardly an effort.

The sea of hunter greens she is accustomed to in her woods back home cannot be found in this forest. It blends into a shade closer to lime. The smell of the earth is too sweet. They pass a tree that’s bark is covered in bulbous notches like zits ready to burst. Another trunk’s bark is so smooth it is nearly bare. Leaves are too frilly and shaped in unusual clusters. Sprigs of fuchsia berry dot branches. The vibrancy is overwhelming. She squeezes her eyes tight to blot out the high saturation. “How far do we have to go, anyway?”

“About a two-day ride, if we don’t stop much. Three days at the most.”

It could have been worse. She expected worse, actually. Three days, two nights in the forest. And then they’ll see this witch, so that will take maybe another night. If she can figure out the meaning of Margo’s marks, they might even be out of Jamyria in a week or two.

A couple weeks in Jamyria is long enough for her mother to panic, but still a short enough time for her to not give up on ever finding her. Somehow this news is soothing. She wonders how her mother is dealing with her disappearance. She doubts Owen knows, and if he does, she doubts he cares. Not like she cares what he thinks much. It is nothing he deserves to know after everything with Kylie…

She shuts her eyes to blot out her sister’s face.

Owen Grisby. Anger floods her veins. He left before her sister was even buried. Margo’s mom admitted she was distracted and didn’t see the red light. T-boned on both sides. The officers told her it was a miracle she and Margo survived. Owen didn’t agree.

So why would he care that she’s disappeared?

She lays her head on Cameron’s shoulder, feeling only the animal’s movement and the tight muscles of his back against her cheek.

“She’s fast,” says Margo conjuring any conversation.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Oh, speaking of shikas, this girl’s yours. So it’s up to you to name her.”

Margo perks up to peek around him at the white beauty. She’d actually already thought of a name when Nick gifted her but wasn’t sure if she’d been named already. “Faux.”

“Faux?” he repeats with heavy skepticism.

“Well, I guess I’m not very good at naming pets,” she admits. “When I first saw her, I was intimidated by her size, but at the same time, I’d never seen an animal so beautiful. I thought she couldn’t possibly be real.” Margo smiles to herself. “Her name’s Faux.”

“Faux it is,” he laughs.

Margo shuts her eyes with a grin still on her face. The rhythm of the animal’s feet makes her sleepy, and the forest
does
smell good — just not right. Like cinnamon, rosemary, ginger, honey…all twisted into one heavenly concoction. Quiet buzzes and clicks orchestrate unknown, playful patterns.

“Do you think this Queen is misunderstood?” Margo asks quietly.

“What would make you say something like that?” Cameron spits.

“Well, this place doesn’t seem that bad. It’s like an exotic paradise or something.” As if on cue, a ray filters through the leaves casting a green-tinted rainbow even without the slightest hint of precipitation in the air.

He snorts. “Well, you’re wrong about that…”

“So tell me why, then.”

She can feel his chest rise and fall heavily. “She’s just not a good person, that’s all.”

That answer isn’t good enough. Margo pulls on his shoulder forcing him to turn and look her in the eye. “Why does she bring people in here?”

It takes him a dozen of Faux’s steps to come up with an answer. “Nick found out a little about that….” His eyes fall to the reins in his hands. “She brings people in to increase her power.”

“And how does that work exactly? What does she need more power for?”

“From what Nick has told me, the power can become addicting. He also went through a stage when he wanted more, but he came to his senses. I’m not sure how it works exactly, or what causes the urge to gain more...”

“So, basically, she’s on a power trip? Pun intended.”

He belts out a laugh. “Exactly! The more she gets, the more she feels she needs. And apparently, it’s never enough for her.”

“Hmm” is all she can get out. None of it made any sense, though. Since entering, Margo has been told how terrible the Queen is, but what if everyone is wrong? The world stretches the boundaries of beauty. It’s alluring and tempting which can, without a doubt, be dangerous in itself. But what if the Queen’s intentions are simply to share her masterpiece with those who can appreciate it? If she is such a bad person, why will no one share an example of what she has done to them besides trapping them in paradise?

“But don’t worry. About that happening to you. Wanting more power...” Cameron says suddenly.

“Could that happen to me?”

“Oops. I figured — you know, since you over-analyze everything — that that was what you were thinking about.”

“Oh,” she sighs and rests her chin on his shoulder. “Well, I’m thinking about it
now
.”

“Sorry. Just thought I’d beat you to the punch.” He flits the reins lightly steering Faux to the right at a fork in the pathway. “You really shouldn’t worry yourself, though. Just focus on finding the way out. That’s your only job here. You won’t have any trouble with your power, and I’ll be right there to stop you if you start getting all psycho on me.” He pats her on the hand.

She grits her teeth. “But how do you plan on stopping me if you don’t have any power yourself?”

“How do you know I don’t?” He raises an eyebrow. “Marks can be passed on.”

“Do you?”

“Well, no, but you shouldn’t assume.”

She mistakes his statement for a joke and laughs. “You can’t get anything past me. You’d have a mark.”

His face is suddenly serious. “There are a lot more people in here with marks than you realize, Margo. Every single person who works for the Queen has a portion of her power.”

She takes in a sharp breath remembering the two men tearing apart Cameron’s home. She was an arm’s length away from the Queen’s Crew, from another marked person. “All of them?”

He nods. “And their mark is hidden on their scalp.” He taps the back of his head. “If they work directly for her, she has them shave their heads at all times — the men and the women. But sometimes she lets them grow their hair out to blend in with the crowd. And, Margo, this power does a lot more than just magic tricks.” He pulls a cord that’s laced around his neck out from under his shirt. Attached to it is the doughnut shaped piece of copper she had made. “It’s very dangerous.”

Margo swallows hard and whispers, “So they could be...anywhere?” Her eyes uncomfortably dart about the forest.

He nods again. “That’s why this is much more serious than you realize.”

Now they’re getting somewhere. If there really are more people out there with this power, and if it is used with bad intentions, Margo can understand why people here are so on edge.

“But you’re safe with me,” he says after a long pause.

“I already knew that.” She wraps her arms tighter around him. The lull of the ride soothes her as the shika continues to maneuver around the strange array of trees. No matter how bright the forest may be, riding while holding tight to the boy she might love, feeling the warmth of his skin against hers, breathing him in, is heaven.

The day stretches on. The sun behind them now lengthens their shadows. Margo remembers the drawing she found at Nick’s house and wonders if a person will suddenly appear from the distorted shadows. Though the sun is low and the colors around them are filtered with an orangey tinge, it is only mid-afternoon. “The sun plays tricks on you in this world,” Cameron had explained. “Telling time by the sky is a reformed art here and rather difficult for a new enterer.”

After some time passes, Cameron speaks up with a guilty tenor. “Oh yeah… Nick also asked me to teach you how to fight.”

“Fight?” Margo snorts. “Sorry, Cameron, but that’s not likely to happen.” Barely over five feet tall and much too skinny, Margo is unable to picture herself fighting.

“You’re going to have to learn.” Cameron sighs. “I’m not thrilled with the idea either, but Nick insisted.”

“Why should I learn?”

“Have you not heard everything we’ve been telling you? These people will kill you!”

“Well, I know that! I just didn’t expect to have to fight back.”

“What, did you think we expected you to just stand back and die?”

“I…don’t know.” Her voice drops because that’s exactly what she had expected to do. “I just assumed I would either find the way or die. I never thought about trying to prevent it.”

“You — you didn’t think about that?” He is appalled by her reaction.

“I’ve thought about dying,” she whispers.

“Margo, listen, that’s not going to happen.”

“How do you know? Janie made it clear it’s a definite possibility, so how can you be so sure?”

“Because I’m with you. And I won’t let anything happen to you. I’m going to do everything I can to help you get ready for whatever lies ahead of us — that includes fighting. Just promise me you’ll try to learn.”

“Okay, I promise,” she says reluctantly.

“Good. Janie will be pleased. It was mostly her idea, actually. She just put Nick up to making it a mandatory part of our trip. She has quite an influence on that man….”

Margo’s heart warms at the thought of Nick and Janie’s quirky relationship. Even though they act aloof, there is certainly something between the two of them. They remind her of her relationship with Cameron. Even though there isn’t anything complicated about their situation, they deny such an obvious truth.