The Wilds (Reign and Ruin 1) (27 page)

I smiled back,
but I didn't say what I knew Lucan was thinking behind me. That I
never dream. And this was a world wrought of dreams, from sleep or
hypodermic needles. There would be no Palet without dreams. No
growth. This was it. And breathing in the cool air, this was
already more than I ever had.

But Cirrus was
ambitious. He made things with his hands. What if Palet ultimately
decided what America – hell, the entire Planet Earth decided long
ago: that progress is progress, no matter what the implications?
Palet would be, in not so many words, screwed.

But as
never-ending as the field seemed to be, we did eventually reach the
end and start to tread softly through the quiet streets. No lights
were on in the small houses, but it wasn't the type of town that
was alive past sun down. The architecture was tidy and kitschy, a
sleepy town of cobbled streets, terraced houses and 60s phone
boxes. We encountered no one and near the outskirts of Sinthinian,
Cassandra motioned for the three of us to come together.

We all stopped
by a low-built wall that fringed the town. I immediately sat down
and started to rub my ankles. My sneakers were killing me and as
tough as they were, they had withstood woodland and desert before
finally succumbing a few miles out from the end.

"In a few
miles, we will be within the borders of the capital city,
Grekegoria," she whispered fervently.

"Sinthinian?
Grekegoria?" I murmured. "My uncle must have been high the night he
thought up those."

Cassandra shot
me an impatient look. Lacing up my shoes, I motioned for her to
carry on.

"Once we cross,
it won't be long until we reach Cirrus's place. He'll be bound up
there, leaving us more than enough time to get in, get the symbol
and get out."

"How do we know
it will be there?" Lucan asked dubiously. "He could be floating on
that cloud of his."

"He's been
grounded for some time in the same place, hoping Maggie would catch
up." She looked at me briefly and continued. "Our source on the
inside assured us of this before going black."

"Going black?"
Lucan growled darkly. Cassandra nodded and paused
significantly.

"Probably up on
a pole somewhere," I heard myself say. Lucan's mask slipped for a
moment and Cassandra put her hand gently on his arm. I had upset
him. Thank God. Finally, I got a reaction out of Mr. Holier Than
Thou. But if he had a retort, I never heard it because somewhere in
the village a clock tower stuck midnight. We waited for each toll
as it rang over the peaceful landscape. By the time it has
finished, Lucan's face was back to its impassive original.

The symbol at
my neck flared up suddenly, harder than it ever had before, and the
gasp that rushed from my lips tasted of soot. My limbs seized up as
the bones in my knees and fingers and elbows exploded in fire. But
I could barely whimper, barely scream before it was gone and I was
blinking away shocked tears. In fact, it had happened so fast it
was over before Cassandra and Lucan reached me from only a few feet
away.

They helped me
up on the wall and let me breathe. They must have thought the
necklace had just given an extra-strength throb. But to me it was
obvious what had happened.

It was a mark;
a warning. I officially had one more day. 12 more hours until the
necklace burned into my soul. And I had been given a little preview
of what it would be like. I could still taste the smoke, as if I
had been breathing it in through my nose, and the dreamcatcher
pulsed rhythmically now to a warm steady beat. Feeling my skin, I
realized it was burning.

But it wouldn't
help anyone to let on, at least not yet. We were so close. So I
allowed them to pull me gently on my feet and I followed them past
the wall into the open grass again. Cassandra put her hand to my
forehead before taking up her place at the front. Her eyes were
definitely worried. It looked like the fire was in me now, just
waiting to flare up again and consume me to cinder.

I relished the
cool air and tried to slow down my heart, but it was impossible.
Behind me was Lucan, on me the symbol and before me the borders of
Grekegoria and Cirrus. Whichever way I looked, life seemed pretty
grim. So I was glad of the darkness and the fact Lucan strode
behind me, because it meant no one could see the few tears I
allowed to slide down my face. And when I felt them dry up on my
hot skin before even reaching the bottom of my cheeks, I stopped.
What's the use of self-pity if you can't even enjoy it on your
own?

Chapter
23

Cirrus was asleep. It didn't take but a moment
for the marbles to seep into his blood and his marrow, rushing to
his brain and chipping away at any semblance of consciousness he
might have had left. His weeping had driven him to exhaustion
anyway and as his heart broke into pieces, so had his strength. It
left his body like a fleeing spirit. He didn't even try to fight as
his body fell into his dreams. And at his side his pocket watch
throbbed and filled his body with the fire of preparation.

And Cirrus
dreamt, his body wincing and sweat glistening on his brow as his
dreams stalked him through the dark, grassy plains of somewhere in
his mind. He felt flashes of horror, images of destruction, stab
him in short pierces. He embraced the dreams with open arms. In
fact, he hoped he would never wake up. He knew that now the most
precious thing to exist was gone, there was no other escape but to
let them possess him entirely. If that meant death, then so be it.
Perhaps
, Cirrus thought as he floated through the darkness,
among my nightmares I will occasionally dream of Maggie . .
.

***

The city that we
approached was a giant hulk of ivory. It gleamed in the moonlight
at the center like a polished seashell and even from a few miles
away, it was glaringly a capital city. The money that radiated off
it was obvious, as was the disdain and disgust that radiated off of
Cassandra and Lucan. This was where Cirrus lived and this is what
their resistance was fighting against.

And while
Sinthinian was asleep, Grekegoria was awake and screaming. If I
thought New York held the award for City of Constant Light and
Activity, the capital of Palet put it to shame. From where we stood
we heard the music, cars and loud noise of what must have been
thousands of people still awake. I couldn't help but put a hand
over my dreamcatcher. How could we get through that scene without
being noticed?

The
dreamcatcher was practically buzzing. I hadn't wanted to make it
obvious that things were getting serious, but I had been forced to
strip off my jacket. My skin was boiling feverishly. I kept seeing
Cassandra shooting me worried looks, so I tried not to pant or fan
my face. I didn't want them to freak out, even though I was totally
freaking the fuck out.

Luckily, we
didn't have to pass through the center of all that ruckus. We
skirted quietly around the edges of the city and into the more
understated wealth of the outside estates. We tried to move quickly
through their neighboring acres, hopping fences and running from
tree cover to tree cover. The moonlight soon gave way to the slate
color of grey dawn preparation, bringing with it heavy clouds that
spread across the sky. I sighed in relief as they started to
drizzle down cool rain on my skin. It was so welcome I forgot for a
moment about not worrying Cassandra and, stopping to lift my face
to the air, I let the mist kiss my face.

When I opened
my eyes Lucan was waiting for me. Cassandra must have been beyond
the next hill. He was staring at my lifted arms, watching the steam
rise off in twirling caterpillars to dissipate into the air. No use
hiding it now.

Moving closer,
he waved a hand wonderingly above my skin.

"It's dry," he
marveled. The rain clung to his hair like a glittering cobweb and
he had to blink away the drops that gathered on his thick
eyelashes.

"It's the
necklace," I said softly. I lifted my palm and stroked it down his
arm. He gasped at the heat and stepped back. Giving him a pained
smile, I shrugged. "Tick-tock."

Turning around,
I went over the hill to join Cassandra on the other side. Lucan
followed, rubbing his arm where I had seared his skin, and we found
ourselves standing at the back of a large, three story mansion made
out of the same white stone that shone from the capital city;
however, the white was broken across with dark cracks, like an
infection splitting pale, smooth skin. The grass outside was dry
and yellow and, as we walked cautiously around the edge to the
front yard, I could see that the path leading along the side of the
mansion led into a wild thicket of forest. It seemed to be
abandoned and, compared to the clean residences of the border town,
it looked like a discarded Wendy house left out on the lawn during
a rainy day.

"This is
Cirrus's place," Cassandra said quietly. "We've been scouting
around it for a while now but we've never seen the inside." Her
eyes searched the dark windows. "We can never know if he's
home."

We stood in the
light rain looking up at the house and for the first time since
meeting both Lucan and Cassandra, I had the feeling they were
afraid. And suffice it to say, I was terrified. The house might
have been still, but there was a feeling that enveloped us and
pushed us down. It was a feeling of consciousness, as if the house
itself had been waiting for us to arrive. But it wasn't welcoming.
Small tendrils of the purple cloud curled around the front porch.
Suddenly, Cirrus's strange beauty, his damaged hands and tired
eyes, made sense. I couldn't live in a house that I thought would
one day eat me alive. How Cirrus dealt with it every day I had no
idea. That feeling hadn't touched me when I was in his office. Now,
on the ground, it was almost suffocating.

Cassandra
motioned us silently to the side of the house and checked the
windows. All of them were locked and as we circled the house fully,
it seemed more and more likely we would have to use Lucan to punch
through a glass pane or scale to the next floor.

"I know this
might sound painfully obvious, but did anyone try the front door?"
I whispered. In the huge shadow of the house it was hard to see
their facial expressions but I think exasperation at the amateur
might have been featured. But when no one answered I crept up the
front stairs – the same stairs I had so foolishly allowed myself to
fall off into the Wilds – and gingerly touched the door knob.

I heard a
rustle behind me and Lucan's great hand spread over the door before
I could turn the handle. He looked down at me furiously.

"What, are you
crazy? Let one of us go first!" He pushed me behind him and I felt
Cassandra move up close to my back. Expectation was thick in the
air as we watched the door knob turn slowly . . .
click
. .
. and Lucan lightly opened the door to the dim darkness of the
front hall. We were in.

***

The sound of running
water and flickers of black, the falling of snow and smell of
charcoal surrounded Cirrus in a giant blizzard. He peered through
the haze, molding the air around him with his hands and feet to
push through the heavy wind. Something was just there in front of
him and he could see it swirling about: small pieces of fingers and
eyes and skin flashing between the flakes of white snow. They
rushed above his head in a swoop and trailed around the back of his
neck. They ruffled through his hair and tickled the inside of his
ears. They merged together briefly into a face of immeasurable
confidence and peace, smiling through the white of the storm. A
face with golden brown eyes, freckles and dark hair.

Cirrus reached
forward clumsily, his fingers brushing through the face that
evaporated into the snow and flew away in its jumbled mix of
splashed paint and soft colors. His chest jerked suddenly and flung
itself after the pieces, but instead of rising after it Cirrus's
body fell downwards through his own feet and body. He found himself
suddenly suspended, hanging onto the ground by the tips of his
toes.

Cirrus pulled
himself up and curled his fingers into the soft edge of the ground.
He hung in the air for a moment before the wind seized the ground
from his clutches and pushed him forcibly down through the air. The
smell of burning filled his nose and as he fell downwards, he
spotted the cloud of pieces rushing towards him like a swarm of
bees and his body jerked again, this time into consciousness.
Cirrus's mind cleared of the snow and he awoke on the floor of the
basement.

Someone was
here.

"Maggie," he
breathed.

***

I stood behind Lucan,
halfway in the house and halfway on the porch, and tried to allow
my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I knew that the waiting room lay
beyond and at the other end was the hallway that led to Cirrus's
office. But it also led off in both left and right directions,
emphasizing the great many rooms I hadn't seen inside of. And my
rival could be within any one of them.

Cassandra moved
us past the threshold and closed the door softly behind her. In the
dark I could only hear breathing and the muffled sound of our steps
on the thick carpeting. As a group, we crept slowly across the
waiting room, feeling along the walls until finding ourselves at
the empty entrance to the black hallway.

A sudden shift
in the air, like a person walking past us, rushed along my back.
Warm breath whispered across my neck for a fleeting moment and
suddenly was gone. Lucan drew back sharply and I sensed Cassandra
stiffen up.

"He's here,"
she whispered.

"He's gone," I
corrected. I couldn't feel him anymore, not behind us and not in
front of us. But I could sense him pulling me, just like the symbol
could sense the other and it knew the time was almost up. It was a
yearning, such like I had never felt before, and it started at the
roots of my hair and extended through my body until I could almost
hear his voice calling.