Ozland, Page 2

  Hook, Jack’s only family other than the Bloodred Queen, attempted to murder him with an apple from the tree that Alyssa and, apparently, he and Hook sought. Luckily for Jack, while large doses of the fruit are lethal, it is a sedative in lesser amounts. Having found Jack shortly after he was exposed, it was mere days before he was running his mouth again.

  As the stepson of the Bloodred Queen, rightful heir to the German throne, and traitor to all he’s interacted with, very few trust him. I can’t blame them. After he betrayed the Lost Kids in Everland, none of us dared to turn our backs on him again.

  “Don’t get your hopes up. You’ll be spending a lot of time behind those bars. Trust me, that’s a whole lot better than if you were on my side of them,” Pete retorts.

  “I was and always have been on your side,” Jack spits. “I gave up my life as a Marauder for you and the rest of the Lost Kids. I was after that apple to help you find the cure. I nearly lost my life, more than once, all for what? To be sure I had that apple so Doc could figure out the cure. I’ve lost everything because of my loyalty to you, Pete!”

  “Loyalty?” Pete stands, pointing his dagger at Jack. “Like when you gave up the location of the Lost City to Hook? Like when you brought him to the sanctuary I created, I built, with the intent to hand over Gwen? Now you want me to believe that you ‘tricked’ your brother by aligning with him so you could get the apple and help us? How stupid do you think I am, Jack?”

  Pete’s knuckles pale as his grip tightens around his blade.

  Lily places a hand on his shoulder. “Let him go. He’s not worth your breath,” she says.

  Pete plops onto the bench and sharply whittles away at the bamboo reeds he’s strung together into a flute, not unlike the one his mother once owned before her tragic motorcar accident. The same sort of flute his sister died with in her pocket.

  The firelight gives his face a golden glow, accentuating the hollow look in his eyes. He no longer wears leather gloves. There’s no medical need for them, but others have opted to keep them on to hide the scars of the disease and my mistake. I still feel ashamed of the damage I caused with the first cure I created. I thought I had found the answer in Gwen and lizard protein, but instead I created something worse: a mutation. With the help of Alyssa and Maddox and a deadly apple, I was able to rectify my mistake. But not before countless others died. Their deaths hang over me.

  Pete, though, has embraced his scars. Opting to cover them with ink instead of cloth, he has spent hours with a sterilized needle and dyes, extending the already intricate tattoos on his chest, shoulders, and arms. Only instead of cogs, wheels, and other machine parts, he’s etched the names of every important person he’s lost. His parents and sister. Names of Lost Kids he’s felt especially attached to. Only two scarred fingers remain empty, and I shudder every time I see them, wondering whose name will be next.

  Pickpocket nudges me. “I want in on this. What about you?” he asks.

  I shrug. “Go gallivanting into the unknown? That idea hardly sounds appealing,” I say.

  “Hardly sounds appealing? I’d give my right arm to get out of this place,” Pickpocket says.

  “You and Hook,” Pete says with a smirk, noticing our entrance.

  “Nice one,” Pickpocket says, chuckling. “Anyway, I love a good adventure.”

  “I’ll go, too,” Maddox says gruffly. Long gone are the nights in which he hosted the rowdy tea parties in the Poison Garden of Umberland. He’s become subdued. As if he’s gone from giving up to growing up. He’d have been an excellent Lost Kid.

  “Let me guess—you’ll offer up a cup of tea and hope that by charming your enemies they won’t suspect the sleeping agents you’ve put in their drink?” Pickpocket asks sarcastically.

  Pete peers down at his hands as Gwen interlaces her fingers with his. He holds her hand loosely, a gesture that’s become all too familiar. Everland ignited their love for each other. Umberland nearly destroyed it. Here, their relationship has been as uncertain as the environment. In all fairness, Gwen has done her best to patch the damage she did when she pushed him away while at Alnwick Castle, but her cold shoulder has left Pete less whole.

  The Lost Boy who once believed we could accomplish anything, who created an entire complex city beneath the ruins of London—his spark has vanished. But who can blame him? Aside from his relationship troubles, he’s lost what remained of his family the day Hook dropped his bombs. He tried to piece together a new family, starting with Bella and adding with every Lost Kid he found—Pyro, Pickpocket, Justice, Gabs. Each new kid felt like a small mend to the heartbreak. Yet the original Lost Girl teeters on the brink of here and the afterlife. The damage to Bella’s health is far worse than that of any of those who have managed to live. Her recovery has been slow, and she remains the sickest of us all. I’m not sure what more I can do. Since Pete’s sister, Gabrielle, died in my arms, we’ve struggled to repair the close bond we once had. With Bella near death, he’s been edgier than usual with me. I understand his blame; I feel it myself.

  Life isn’t always fair, but when it steals the ones you love so young, so unexpectedly, it’s especially cruel.

  Pulling a gun from his holster, Maddox forcefully blows out a breath on the metal barrel and buffs it with his burgundy coat sleeve. “Trust me, Pickpocket, if charm doesn’t work, I have other means to get what I want.”

  Gwen shoots Alyssa a tired glance. The prospect of another dangerous journey must be terrifying, even exhausting, to her. She, too, has watched her loved ones succumb to disease and war.

  As the group continues to argue strategy and who should rescue Osbourne, the rightful king of Germany, it occurs to me that I have absolutely nothing to offer. My skills are not in warfare but in medicine. Having created an actual working antidote for the virus released in Everland, my job here is done—for now. Without an adequate laboratory to produce the stock needed to distribute worldwide, there isn’t much else I can do. Other than the occasional dose of eucalyptus oil to help a nasty cold or stitching up a deep cut, I’m more or less useless. The last year and a half has been one great big nightmare, but the treetop village has served as a temporary asylum from the insanity this world has become. Even more so than Alnwick ever was, but to no fault of Alyssa’s. She did the best she could under dire circumstances.

  They say home is where the heart is; however, I’m not sure that’s true. My heart remains in—even grieves for—London, where I was born, raised, and educated, but now there is nothing left of it. Over the course of my own journey, I’ve settled with the idea that home is where you find inner peace. These days I’m not sure that concept exists either. With the world diseased and war-torn, peace seems to elude me even in the dark hours of the night.

  “I admire your bravery,” Hunter says, “but we’ll need the skills of your Lost Kids to infiltrate Lohr Castle. It’ll take every able body to destroy the Bloodred Queen’s reign. Between our knowledge and the abilities your group brings, you have a good chance of taking down the Bloodred Queen for good. As for the king, we’ve discussed this, and I will be going to find him alone. The scouts have found his approximate location, but we won’t know for sure until he’s in our custody. If I’m not back by the time you conquer the Bloodred Queen, and I know you will, then you can send help. But there’s no use bringing back a king when his throne is still occupied.”

  The group exchanges an anxious glance, some grumbling among themselves.

  “What about Gail?” says Emery, Hunter’s wife. “She’s excellent with the bow, far superior to anyone else. It makes sense she should go with you to help in the event you encounter trouble.”

  “No, we have no idea what dangers lie on the Emerald Isle,” Hunter says. “Those who have scouted the island claim that it is hostile territory. Our daughter belongs here with the rest of the young folk.”

  Emery sighs. “She’ll insist you take her with you.”

  Hunter gives a small smile. “As impetuous as that girl is, I have no
intention of bringing her with me. I could hardly keep an eye on her within the confines of the Labyrinth. Now that the walls are down, she’s constantly running amok despite the rules I’ve set for her. The Labyrinth is a dangerous enough place for a teenage child, much less the unknown of Emerald Isle,” he says.

  The Labyrinth isn’t safe for anyone, not even someone as fearless as Hunter, I want to say, but I keep my thoughts to myself.

  “I offer some of our soldiers to go with you not only for your safety, but for the safety of the king as well,” Alyssa says. “You may need help,” she adds, shooting a meaningful look at Maddox. He smiles in return, clearly thinking of how Alyssa tried to refuse his help in getting to the maze.

  “No!” Hunter says sternly.

  Alyssa startles with wide blue eyes. Even though we no longer live within the borders of Umberland, none of us from England would dare challenge her. With the Queen of England deceased, Alyssa is the only one left capable of returning to rule England.

  The Queen’s death was not wholly unexpected, but we all held out hope that she would pull through. I tried everything I could, but I failed her, too. She was surrounded by all of us from England as she took her last breath. No one could withhold their sorrow, and we mourned for weeks. With her death, like so many others before her, another shred of hope for the return of life as it was before was lost. Only this one hit the hardest for all of us.

  Hunter sighs, recognizing the error he’s made. “My apologies, Duchess Alyssa, but with all due respect, you have no authority here. Not here in my village, nor Germany for that matter. You and your people are guests and thus will be treated as such, with honor and dignity. But any decision that puts lives at risk will be mine.”

  The chilly night fills with a heavy air of discomfort as the group realize their new role in this strange place. While Pete and Alyssa were leaders back in England, we are not in the Lost City or Alnwick anymore. We really are visitors in a country that is far from home.

  “This task is mine because I am one of the few who knows where the king is,” Hunter says.

  “And how do you know?” Maddox asks with raised brows.

  “Along with the Zwergs, I was one of a many who ensured the king’s survival,” Hunter replies, pulling a chain with a key from his shirt. “Those of us loyal to the king knew that his recovery would be lengthy. We couldn’t very well hide him in the castle without the queen finding out. Instead, he was given medicine to reverse the poison apple’s effects and placed in a secure coffin that only this key could open. The Bloodred Queen believed he was entombed within the royal crypt. Fortunately, she despised him so much that she wasn’t interested in participating in his burial.

  “General Ginger, the daughter of the Zwerg leader, took a small army with her to ensure the king safely arrived at the Emerald Isle, hidden away from the Bloodred Queen. In addition to his impenetrable coffin, he was sent with a guard so strong that any who dare challenge it stand no chance.”

  “Even more reason for us to join you,” Pete says.

  “Not this time. This is one journey I will take alone,” Hunter reiterates, leaving no room for argument.

  Hunter can hold his own in a strange land. Of that I have no doubt. Next to his only daughter, Gail, he is among the strongest. And, as brave as my companions are, the toll of the battles in Everland and Umberland are evident in their somber countenances and red eyes. Eyes that have wept over the deaths of the Lost Kids, the citizens of Alnwick Castle, the Queen of England, their families. They have no more strength to fight than I do to pronounce one more innocent person dead. While the battle for Lohr will be costly, at least they won’t be alone. It’s only because we’ve had one another that we’ve come so far. We’ve become a family of sorts. If we divide, none of our heads will be in the battle at hand. As much as I hate to admit it, I think Hunter is right. Together we stand a chance to defeat the Bloodred Queen. Divided, we’ll all die.

  “I have not come all the way from Everland, battled through attack on Umberland, only to arrive here and be told where I will or will not go. I say we put this to a vote,” Gwen says with defiance, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

  Pete squeezes her hand, and his brow furrows. The silent scolding seems to take her aback as she draws her hand to herself. Hurt replaces the anger in her expression.

  She, too, has lost more than any one person should bear. First her mother, the one person who secured the escape of so many from Everland. A woman we looked to as a mother after having lost our own. Then shortly after our arrival at the Labyrinth, her sister, Joanna, and brother, Mikey, succumbed to the disease. After all she went through to protect them and rescue Joanna, she took their deaths as her own fault. She could protect her siblings from war, from starvation, and from the Marauders, but ultimately lost them to the disease. However, that falls on my shoulders, and guilt gnaws at me.

  Worst yet was the loss of her father, who was presumed dead after the German bombing. Inexplicably, he survived both the bombs and the Labyrinth. Eventually, the disease stole his last breath, too, along with so many others in Evergreen.

  The loss of the Darling family affected us all to varying degrees. Gwen is the only one left to bear the family’s name. When I first met her and her siblings, they were filled with determination. Despite what they had lost and endured, they radiated with hope we all longed for.

  Now Gwen is a shell of the girl she once was.

  Hunter turns his attention to Pete. “As for Lohr, your only objective is to destroy the Bloodred Queen,” Hunter says, seeming unfazed by Gwen’s outburst. “Do it quickly and quietly. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Don’t do anything that will rouse suspicion. But if the situation calls for it …”

  Hunter presses his lips together, as if uttering the words might jinx him … or them.

  The Bloodred Queen dies at all costs … even it means losing one of our own.

  Pete nods, still carving away at the bamboo flute.

  “Doc, you will join Pete,” Hunter says.

  An anxious hush blankets the group as eyes fall on me.

  “Me? Why?” I ask, shifting into the glow of the torchlight.

  “Because ultimately, you are the one who will save us all,” Hunter says. “You will be the one to distribute the cure. Gather what stock you have and go with the assault team. You are to gain entrance to Lohr’s laboratory and begin mass production of the antidote. The queen’s laboratory was quite sophisticated back in the days when I was there. I imagine with the need to hunt for a cure, she’s equipped it with the finest tools she could get her hands on. Tools that will help you produce the cure in mass quantities.”

  My knees feel weak as Pete’s gaze falls on me.

  “Doc’s not coming with us. Not with me,” he says, his voice curt. “Besides, he’s a liability. Instead of fighting the queen’s army, I’ll be more concerned about protecting him.”

  “Doc is going with you or you’ll be pulled from leading the assault team,” Hunter says.

  Pete shoots me an icy stare. “Fine, but bringing Doc anywhere is a mistake in my opinion.”

  The brisk words take my breath away and the attention turns to me. They are waiting for a response. Some comeback that puts Pete in his place. But I don’t have the energy or the will to engage with him. The dig feels warranted.

  Thousands of lives were lost because I was unable to find a proper cure for the Horologia virus. In the quiet of the night, I’ve cried a dozen tears for every patient I’ve failed. My well of sorrow dried up, and my job as a physician became mechanical. Lacking compassion. Absent of the emotional investment I’ve always given my patients.

  But if Bella dies, it might destroy me.

  “Hunter’s right; Doc should go,” Gwen says, refuting Pete’s open dismissal of my value. His wounded expression tells me this fight isn’t over.

  Gwen takes in a breath, as if steadying herself for her next words. “My mother’s notes state that the virus originated in Germany a
nd was sent to Britain by an anonymous person with a dire warning that London would be the first target. While the initial research was well supported, after ten years the monarchy was no longer interested and deemed it a false threat. My mother was reassigned to some other project. Look how that panned out.”

  With London currently nothing but a pile of ashes, there’s no rebuttal. It seems like years since our home was bombed by Hook and the Marauders. However, the innocence of all our childhoods was stolen just under a year and a half ago.

  “I should stay here. Who will care for the sick if I leave? Who will watch Bella?” I protest. “If I go, I’ll be putting everyone at risk. I can’t handle knives, swords, or guns like the rest of you. Until Pete’s group removes the queen from power, there’s nothing I can do. Once she’s no longer a threat, I can take the cure, reproduce it in the Lohr lab, and distribute it.”

  “Time is something we don’t have,” Hunter says. “The sooner you get started, the quicker we can save what people still remain throughout the world. Second, you may have found the cure, but the threat is far from gone. If the Bloodred Queen contains the original virus, we will always be at risk.”

  “We should all be immune to it now, shouldn’t we?” Maddox asks. “It doesn’t matter anymore what she does with it.”

  “Not if she uses it to create a different form of the virus,” Hunter says.

  “Why would she do that?” Lily interjects. “What she wants is world power. Killing off everyone makes no sense.”

  “I don’t think she expected the fallout from the original attack. I think she planned to use the destruction of London to show what power she had as a way of intimidating other world leaders to bend to her will. With the virus spreading the way it has, there are only two things that will bring people to her mercy: a cure to the current outbreak and the threat of a resistant strand,” Hunter says.

  Sweat beads my brow as I consider the possibilities. “He’s right. When I added the lizard protein to the original antidote, it stalled the side effects of the virus but created new symptoms. We know the virus is capable of mutating. Depending on who handles the samples, it could be manipulated into something far worse than what we’ve already seen.”