The Lotus Effect (Rise Of The Ardent) Read online

  I nodded. It was my fault they were afraid. If the Council could not directly hurt me due to the Barrage Code, they were going to beat me down behind closed doors.

  They were going to hurt the ones I loved.

  “I know. I cannot say anything to ease your fears. I will do everything and anything in my power to try and find Mrs. Fawnsworth. Your name will never surface. Just please, help me do this one good thing,” I pleaded, my eyes threatening to fill with unshed tears.

  He assessed me, his face full of resignation. I wasn’t sure if he was going to respond, but he soon sighed, looked past me to check for prying eyes, and pulled me further into the room.

  “They took her away last night while we all slept. She didn’t put up a fight. She almost expected it after . . .”

  “After what I did at the Coronation,” I stated bluntly.

  He nodded.

  I could feel his callused hands as they clutched at my wrists.

  “Rumor is they took her to the Wall to cast her out.” His eyes were sharp, wide, and full of many conflicting emotions, despair being the uppermost.

  I swallowed. It was even worse than I’d feared, but something wasn’t adding up. Scottie, being the pompous arse that he was, had divulged too much information about her disappearance in his attempt to get a rise out of me.

  I stared at Oliver’s wrinkled face and bushy eyebrows which seemed even craggier in the shadows of the room. “Someone had mentioned that she would be . . .” I found it difficult to continue, “she would be involved in some form of hanging?”

  He scoffed at my insolence. “How else do you s’pose they cast people into the Outlands? They catapult them over? They just open a door for them?”

  He calmed himself to a whisper, taking a moment to remember his place. “The guards lower them by rope, but not without getting their share of excitement from the situation. They dangle them upside down, sometimes for hours, before they get into any rush to let them go. Most of the time they do just that. Let them go. Dropping them to their deaths.”

  My hand slipped over my mouth in horror.

  He paused, looking at me with sad eyes. “It’s better if you just forget about your Mrs. Fawnsworth.” I could tell he was finding it difficult to restrain his resentment towards me.

  “You were close to her?” I asked tentatively, touching him on the shoulder and feeling the guilt bubble inside me.

  He nodded. “We were all close to her. She brought us together when we felt as though we were only looked upon as a worthless tool to the Council. We weren’t merely servants anymore; we were a family of our own.”

  I swallowed again, my mouth suddenly very dry. “Well then, point me in the right direction.” I struggled to keep my voice at a whisper. “She’s going to die out there if you don’t.” My voice cracked on the words.

  He lowered his head in shame. “You’ll cause even more trouble if you go snoopin’ about. It’s better to let things lie as they are.”

  I saw that the admission caused him much pain. How could he stand there and not help her? Commit her to death? Mrs. Fawnsworth, a friend, family even to many of the other servants.

  Family to me.

  With both hands, I grabbed at his collar. “I don’t believe you. You’re braver than you think,” I said stiffly this time, refusing to back down. “Give me a direction. That’s all I need.”

  He sobered and stood a little taller after that. “If you get caught, and they find out we helped in any way, we will all face the same fate. It was Mrs. Fawnsworth’s wish for us not to come after her.”

  “You’d honestly listen to Mrs. Fawnsworth? That stubborn old goat?” I released his neckline, my hand falling to my side again.

  “Fine.” He said suddenly and with a sigh. “Last I heard was that she was taken to the East Wall, through Sector 7.”

  I blanched. Sector 7 was being managed by Mr. Briggins and was known to be the most dangerous to traverse through. No wonder Scottie knew so much about this.

  My anger flared anew at the thought of both Scottie and his father being involved in Mrs. Fawnsworth’s disappearance. Nothing took place in Sector 7 without Mr. Briggins’s awareness.

  And to think he thought so highly of me . . . I thought dryly.

  Sighing, I nodded my thanks to the custodian, feeling remorseful that I never attempted to get to know the servants. They seemed a better lot than even my own family.

  I started towards the door.

  “Ma’lady?” Oliver called out to me. I stared over my shoulder at him. “You’re braver than you think too. Give her what we could not: A fightin’ chance.”

  Chapter 6

  The Wall ~ Crimes of Ruthlessness

  “One must dare to become great. Success isn’t a result of spontaneous combustion . . . . You must set yourself on fire.”

  The words of the ancient Glasow tome from my family’s personal library filled me with courage as I kept a brisk pace through the stillness of the streets beyond the Estate, my head hanging low beneath the hood.

  No matter how I garbed myself: dark trousers, long hooded cloak—I still felt rather obvious in my attempt to blend in. I waited until nightfall in preparation to make my way through the darkened streets past the gates of Sector 7. I hated to sit idle for so long, but there was no chance of sneaking out during the daylight hours. I had too hoped the clouds would give me sufficient coverage, though to my ill luck they drifted by intermittently and were patchy at best.

  Hovering behind a grimy street corner, I waited for the next batch of fog to drift by. I tugged at the front of my hood, hoping to further conceal my face, and ran my fingers over my belt to make sure my knife—a kitchen knife, of all weapons—was still secured in its place. My hands trembled uncontrollably as I did so. I shook them discreetly by my side, trying to dispel the nerves.

  I must be completely mad.

  I’d never even seen the Wall in Sector 7 before. The only other time I had visited was with my parents, who arrived conveniently equipped with nothing short of a small army. We were escorted quickly inside the Sector’s own version of the Estate, with little opportunity for sightseeing . . . or time to scope out possible hideouts for circumstances like this.

  I stood tense as a coil, ready to spring as I watched my breath steam outwards into the crispness of the night. This particular section of Sector 7 was eerily quiet—which did not help dispel the paranoia flowing throughout my already chilled veins.

  So far, no one else had been roaming the streets at this hour. Though, as I moved to step into the cover of the next cloud, I couldn’t ignore the dreadful feeling that someone was watching me. The same shrill note of warning—the one I had sensed the night of my Coronation—crawled up the skin of my neck, sending the tiny hairs standing.

  Even if I was being observed, I couldn’t stop now. Mrs. Fawnsworth needed me. It was my fault she was in this mess; now, I was her only hope out of it again. Even those who were closest to her dared not trespass against the Council. What will it hurt to have one more strike added against my own death warrant? The papers have already been inscribed; I might as well make the details interesting.

  Much like hopping from one dry stone to another of a puddle ridden street, I carefully placed each boot onto the cobblestones as I passed from one moving cloud to another, making my way closer to the guard sanctioned station of the East Wall.

  Taking my chances, I made a run for it as the nearest approaching cloud passed within a few feet of the Fort, sliding just in time to hide in the darkened nook that was hidden beneath the steps. I grunted as my side hit the stone, but I quickly pushed myself onto my hands, my boots crunching noisily on the gravel as I got to my feet. I crouched low in the darkness behind the stairs, my heart beating so rapidly its rhythm thudded loudly behind my ears.

  —A metal can was suddenly kicked across the stone: a hollow scrapping. Startled, I reached for my knife as I heard the muffled voices of two guards making their rounds down the stairwell behind me.r />
  Again, I listened. I could tell they were laughing. Laughing about something along the lines of ‘The stank wasn’t worth the show,’ and ‘Who knew target practice and pissing could be so much fun? Let’s just hope they drop the witch before her stench permanently sets in.’

  My insides twisted at their words. Please no.

  I snuck a quick peek around the brick, hoping to better gauge their location. The pair bobbled into each other as they continued walking, suggesting they had taken to the bottle. Most of the guards along the Walls were overpaid and under-disciplined. Apparently, they were also rewarded for treating civilians like trash.

  My nerves suddenly vanished, replaced with a furious rage. I wanted to hurt them. I wanted to make them bleed.

  How dare they? How DARE they? Those . . . animals. Laughing at her pain . . . .

  A red fury coursed through my veins, forcing me to my feet.

  At the moment I cared nothing for any past or future choices. I lay prone against the cold stone of the stairs, ignoring the hard concrete that bit into the tender skin of my back. I waited until the guards had their backs turned, hoping the element of surprise and their drunkenness would aid me—despite my blood boiling, I knew I’d never have a chance against two full grown men in a fair setting. But I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to try.

  Gripping the handle of the knife tightly, I planned to go after the tall one on the right first. Then . . . then I’d deal with the other one once an opportunity presented itself.

  Sensing that the opportune moment to attack had finally come, I stepped from my hiding only to find a hand grabbing at my mouth. I was roughly seized from behind, just as the knife was pried from my fingers.

  I tried to scream in my rage, but found that my mouth was still muted by my attacker’s hand. My boots scraped across the stone—I was being dragged backwards.

  Whoever it was, he was strong, and undeniably male. I made myself as heavy as I could, trying to dislodge myself out of his grasp, but he ignored my desperate attempts to defend myself like a mother dealing with an unruly child. Despite my thrashing, he somehow managed to drag me even further into the dark alcove beside the Fort.

  Knowing this was the last place I wanted to be—I kicked out with all my might, slinging my body forward and away. I came back, slamming into his chest again—but my efforts were all in vain. Dammit! My mind reeled a carousel of curses as my attacker practically carried me off the ground as he held my arms with one hand and my mouth with the other.

  He finally slowed, pulling me inside the shadows of the algae covered tunnel. With my frantic searching eyes, it appeared this tunnel was the one that led to the sewers beneath the Wall.

  Was this a guard?

  Frustrated that my unrelenting attempts at escape had not even fazed my attacker, I opted for another approach. Knowing my mouth could be used as a weapon in more ways than one—I bit down hard into his unprotected hand.

  He groaned and bit back a curse, but still, never relinquished his grip.

  Angry that I had run out of options, I tried slamming my head back into his face. He unsurprisingly caught onto that tactic too and dodged it effortlessly.

  “Stop it, Lily,” my attacker said firmly with a gravel-laden voice that seemed all too familiar. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

  Then I knew. My heart leaped in stunned disbelief. Not a guard. No. The presence that I had felt following me all along.

  “You?” I asked as I tried to turn backwards to get a look at him, but my question came out as a jumbled mess with his hand still covering my mouth. I looked at him pleadingly before he cautiously removed his hand so I could speak.

  “Xander? What are you doing here?” I hissed.

  He didn’t respond, but only arched his eyebrow at me as if he too could ask the same of me.

  “Were you following me this entire time?” I demanded, spinning on my heels, impatient for answers. I was angry that I allowed myself to be so easily pursued.

  Xander merely shrugged as he handed over my knife, hilt first. I almost missed the action for he blended so well into the shadows of the tunnel.

  Hesitantly, I took the knife and secured it back onto my hip.

  He moved closer then, and took my wrist in a firm, but not ungentle grip. “I’m taking you back,” he said, a menacing look about his eyes.

  It was a statement and not an offer.

  I reared back, ready to fully object, but was interrupted by a not so distant noise. We both couldn’t ignore the strangled moans that came from no further than thirty feet away. They sounded definitely feminine and no doubt close to the Wall.

  My throat clenched at the pitiful sound. Forgetful to remain in the relative safety in the darkness of the tunnel, I surged forward, trying to pinpoint the exact direction in which the sound came.

  Xander, of course, was spry on top of things. He grabbed my hood, yanking me back. His shoulders hit and scraped against the brick as he held my face to his chest just as another pair of guards were making their rounds past the tunnel’s entrance. My dark hood had fallen away to expose my face and unruly locks of blond hair. Though angry, I allowed him to hold me there, knowing ashamedly that I had almost made a mistake. My actions were so rash and thoughtless that I didn’t even think to consider the guards who still patrolled the streets beyond.

  I was overly conscious that I now rested my cheek against a stranger’s chest. But still, I couldn’t help but notice the steady beating of his heart as compared to the racing surge that was mine. He was calm while I was frantic.

  After what felt like an insurmountable amount of time, the guards finally moved on. Xander slowly removed his hand from my head and allowed me to step away. I sucked in a breath as I stumbled from him—I didn’t realize I had been holding it, fearing the slight rasping would have given us away.

  Xander looked at me with sympathy in his eyes, but his voice continued to hold every bit of firmness from before. “Lily, you cannot help her. You’re going home.”

  He knew. He knew that she was here.

  I spun on him again, eyes furious. “No. I’ve already come this far. It’s my fault that she’s here and unlike everyone else, I am not leaving her here to die.”

  Xander’s jaw clenched as he regarded me, his dark hood shadowing most of his face. “You have no business being here,” he said plainly, his voice low.

  “Says who? I have every right—” I began to argue, but stopped, realizing my voice had risen sharply from my anger.

  Xander’s jaw shifted in thought before he turned to me again. “I’ll come back for her. On my own—I’m taking you home first,” he said with a hard finality laced in his tone. He stepped past me, his posture authoritative.

  “So you’ve told me before!” I whispered fervently to him. “It could already be too late. You heard what they said about cutting her loose?” I tried hard to keep the whine from my voice. “You’re not taking me anywhere.” My fingers moved, hovering just above the handle of the blade at my hip.

  Xander narrowed his eyes. He sniffed as he looked at my hand. “Fine,” he said, throwing me off balance. It made me think that he knew she didn’t have much time either. Or perhaps he didn’t want to deal with me and the scene I’d likely cause if he tried to take me back.

  He lowered his face to match my height. His gaze pierced through the darkness and drilled into mine. If I wasn’t so frustrated with the situation, I could easily say that those eyes were intimidating.

  Intimidate me all he wanted, this Xander—whoever he was—wasn’t going to stop me.

  He spoke slowly, “You stay behind me. Step where I step, and if I tell you to do something you do it. Understood?”

  I nodded even though I didn’t like being spoken to as if I was a child. Satisfied we were actually pushing ahead, I didn’t argue.

  Xander repositioned his hood and moved past me like an animal on the prowl. His demeanor led me to believe that he had sufficient practice when it came to evading Sector guard
s. My mouth was dry from anxiousness as I watched him. I tried to swallow, but found it difficult. How unbelievably spoiled and unprepared I felt standing with only a kitchen knife to protect myself with.

  He seemed to notice my nervous reaction.

  “A logical plan would involve me making you stay here,” his voice whispered from the shadows. “My senses, however, lead me to believe that you are among the stubborn type.” He spoke at me instead of to me as he took the position in front. He held me back with one hand as he peered around the brick edifice.

  That last statement should’ve offended me. But some part of me believed he said it to keep my mind from my nerves.

  Besides, he was right. I wouldn’t have listened.

  After a few moments Xander regarded me squarely and whispered, “Are you certain you’re ready for this?”

  I nodded quickly, trying to look confident. But my mind kept returning to the image of the warring flames within the lanterns. The chaos. I wished I could’ve taken back what I had thought earlier—this was never what I wanted.

  He raised his eyebrow at me as though he had his doubts, but nevertheless he reached for my arm.

  Just when I thought he was going to lead me out into the street, he walked past, and directed me further into the darkness of the tunnel. I frowned, curious as to how this was going to get us any closer to the Wall, but didn’t protest, realizing quickly that I was out of my realm of knowledge. The only way in would be through this Blacksmith, Xander, and his experience.

  Chapter 7

  Abnormal Afflictions

  It was dark. So very dark in the tunnel that I could not even see my free hand as I held it splayed in front of my face.

  Water dripped from the ceiling and splashed in a constant rhythmic pattern as it hit the puddles below. The droplets sounded farther away than they had previously so I gathered that we must have now entered into a larger expanse of the tunnel. The musty mold smell that I had sniffed outside intensified the further he led me down into what I now expected to be the sewers—no, the sewers would smell worse. This must be a drainage tunnel.