Pieces of Jade (Pirates of Orea) (9 page)

“Trust me, Jade.”

Pearl lowered the hood so I could see her eyes. “Either way, it’s too late. We’ve come too far now.”

Lady Meredith nodded. “If you don’t go now, we’ll all be arrested and it will have been for nothing.”

“You must go, Jade,” Pearl said. “Be brave.”

Lady Meredith opened the cell door, the rusty hinges squeaking in protest. I stared at them. “I—”

Pearl put her fingers to her lips to silence me and peered outside the jail doors. She gave me a tight hug. “I love you. Never doubt that.”

Before I could put my arms around her she disappeared into the darkness.

Lady Meredith guided me down a dank hallway, the moans of its inhabitants making my skin crawl.

She talked over her shoulder as we walked. “The lights in the courtyard are out, and the gates are unlocked. Someone will let down the barrier while you pass through. Don’t get caught on your way there or you’ll be beyond my help.”

“Where is Castleport?” I asked, panic beginning to fill my chest as I hurried after her toward the prison doors. “What if I get lost?”

“Head east and follow the map. It isn’
t too far outside the kingdom.”

The world around me seemed to tilt and
slide as I finally understood her meaning.

I looked at her in horror. “You’re sending me beyond the barrier? Out into the Wastelands?”

She jerked her head. “It’s the only place safe for you.”

“But the savages live there!”
The Wastelands were inhabited by lost souls who had been forced to leave our kingdom, or worse, those who had willingly chosen a life of depravity over our laws. Our city was a haven from crime and immorality, because those who committed those vile acts were exiled from our fertile land or sentenced to death. I knew I too was awaiting my death but I wasn’t like the savages. “
The barrier was erected to protect the Emmías from them. I won’t be safe.”

“You will be far safer there than in the kingdom.” Lady Meredith looked me straight in the eye. “Trust your instincts and follow my instructions, and you
will
survive. I have a man guarding the gate. He will open the barrier and let you out.”

Once we reached the door leading out to the courtyard she stopped. “Through here,” she hissed
. “
Now go!”
Sweat broke out at the base of my skull. I paused, but she opened the heavy wooden door and pushed against my shoulder. “Go!”

I took a hesitant step into the chilly night air. I turned to take one last look at her Ladyship, but she shut the door in my face. The stars shone brightly above me, and the air, so clean now that I was free of the stink of the prison, revived me. I looked around
, both free and a fugitive, hoping I’d survive the night.

Chapter 8

I arrived at the invisible barrier, the boundary marked by a high hedge. Anyone attempting to breach the barrier would be fatally shocked—the hedge served as warning.

Following along the hedge, I looked for an opening that would lead me to the Wastelands, unsure what it would look like. Would there be an actual door?

With every step, I noticed the absence of my necklace, missing the quiet rhythm as it tapped against my chest, its weight around my neck. My legs trembled. Though it had been less than a day, the morning’s ceremony felt like a lifetime ago. So much had happened in that time. And James . . . I shuddered as I realized I’d loved James more than he’d ever loved me. Had he truly loved me, truly known
me as I’d believed he had, he would never have questioned whether August’s death was an accident.

James had betrayed
me
, and his disloyalty hit me like a cannonball to my chest, ripping out my heart and leaving a gaping hole of bubbling, blackened flesh, scarring me inside and out. My ordeal on the pirate ship had revealed James’s character for the first time, far more like his brother than I would have believed. Yes, I’d wielded the sword that had killed August, but I thought he knew my heart. I thought he knew me. That he thought me capable of murder made my insides weep and throb in hurt. His faith in me, that I’d thought a firm anchor, was no more solid than the tufts of a dandelion blown away by the first storm of the season. And while he was carried whichever way the wind blew, I was left alone, a solitary weed in a barren desert. I may have bruised his optimism, but he’d shattered my trust.

Tears flowed down my cheeks. My sadness turned to anger and fury replaced the pain. I had thought my heart would crack with despair, but
an iciness etched itself onto my heart instead. I would never cry for James again; I hated him for what he’d done, for his lack of faith in me. I hated him almost as much as I hated the pirate who had ruined everything.

Ahead, a lone sentry dressed in the livery of the kingdom stood guard. The gravel crunched beneath my feet and he turned his head toward me. I stopped a few feet from him and we studied each other intently. He looked a year or two younger than I was, with curls of blonde hair, and his dark eyes swam with indecision; my skin prickled in fear.

He shook his head and motioned for me to come near. “I’m sorry for my hesitation. This way, Emmía.” His voice cracked, but he set his shoulders as if steeling himself for what he was about to do. He did know who I was, which meant he knew the consequences, too. What had Lady Meredith promised for his cooperation?

I took a step toward him. “Thank you.”

He bowed his head in deference to me. “May the Unbinding save us all.”

“What?”

He didn’t repeat himself, but gave me a smile.

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Are you aware of what will happen to you if they discover you helped me?”

He straightened. “It will be worth the risk.”

I shifted my balance, meeting his eyes. “But you don’t know what I’ve done.”

“Lady Meredith told me in confidence.”

“And still you choose to let me go?”

His gaze traveled to my bare throat, but his eyes didn’t reveal any surprise. “Especially after what happened.”

Unexpected tears formed in my eyes. “Thank you.”

“There
is no need to thank me.”

“But you risk your own medallion.”

Instead of answering, he raised his hand to the archway. Static crackled and filled the night; the air in the arch shimmered like moonlight on the ocean before evaporating with a hum. A bright flash of silver sparkled before my eyes as a puff of air pushed me back a step. Just like what I’d seen on the ship when we’d crossed the barrier.

“It’s safe now,” the sentry said.

I took a shaky breath and clutched at the waxy leaves of the hedge as I stared through the arch and out into the Wasteland on the other side.

“You’d best go, Emmía. If you’re still touching the barrier when it reactivates, it will kill you.”

I nodded and closed my eyes. I took a step, but then turned back. “What is your name?”

He looked surprised at the question. “Benjamin.”

“I owe you my life, Benjamin. Thank you.”

“It is us who owe you.” He bowed
deeply, taking my hand and helping me step over the magical threshold. “May the night stars watch over you.” He released my hand and magic pulsed through me, as the barrier began to raise itself again.

I turned around to look at the archway, but it and Benjamin were gone. Instead of a waxy green hedge, I saw only a jagged row of dry, twisted thorn bushes stretching out into the distance in a harsh, unbroken line. I’d traveled from a thriving garden to a forsaken desert in just a few steps. No wonder they were called the Wastelands. Outside of the hedge, only a few scraggly trees and sparse poisonous weeds dotted the barren landscape and sun-baked earth.

I trusted Lady Meredith, but I couldn’t believe she would send me
here,
to this dying, desolate wilderness
. From childhood stories, I knew the heat in the Wastelands could be brutal. If I didn’t come across a town in a day, two at most, I would die.

But for the sake of
Orea, I had to try.

For hours I walked, following the simple map’s instruction. My feet were numb and my mouth parched. Finally, I stumbled over nothing and skidded across the dirt, the coarse ground scraping my hands. I rolled onto my back, watching the pale light of morning kiss the horizon.
My wedding day. The supposed happiest day of my life. An unhappy laugh burst from my throat.

I set my hand on the ground and a spiny thorn pierced my thumb, drawing a large drop of blood. The single drop leaked from my thumb, wetting the ground. I angled my head, my cheek resting against the unforgiving ground, and watched the earth greedily drinking in its offering. I’d never seen my blood touch the dirt before.

The soil changed from rocky and dry to loose and moist as my blood seeped through and healed it. It gave off a beautiful, otherworldly glow before fledgling shoots of a green leafy plant pushed through into the morning sun.

I smiled. I’d been attacked by the pirates and betrayed by James, but the earth still loved me. To the soil, at least, I still had purpose.

Muscles shaking, I pushed myself to my feet, determined to press forward. I’d come too far to turn back now.

I woke from a deep sleep, my bones aching from a night on the unforgiving ground. Every muscle hurt while thirst gnawed at me. I stretched, noticing the position of the sun and judging it to be about midday.

Last night, I’d walked until my body refused to push on further, and my body stumbled exhausted to the ground. Now I took in my surroundings. I lay in a field of flowers that I was positive hadn’t been there when I’d fallen asleep. Tender green plants and fragile blooms blew serenely in the breeze. I ignored my muscles’ protests and plucked the bud nearest to me, twisting it in my fingers to examine it. I’d never seen a flower like this— frail and delicate, so white it was nearly translucent. Seven tear-shaped petals spilled out of a dark crimson center, which was split by a jagged white line. Like a heart that had been torn in two.

It smelled of salty tears and apple blossoms, invoking heartache and longing with an undertone of anger—exactly the way I’d felt as I’d cried myself to sleep, too exhausted to move. I gazed around in amazement. My scarred hands couldn’t have bled—the magic had taken its course and I now only had the memory of the pain from the
blood-letting. My thumb hadn’t bled more than a drop. Had my tears created these? I didn’t think my tears had any special abilities.

The realization astounded me, but the sound of my stomach grumbling in complaint brought more immediate concerns to my mind. I wondered how far it was to the nearest village, and if I could make it
there without having anything to drink. My body was not used to thirst, or the hunger pains I now experienced.

After I finally managed to sit up, I pulled the map from my pouch and examined the distance from the kingdom to the village where the witch lived. There were no notations of any kind, no key either, which I supposed meant the map wasn’t drawn to scale. I squinted at it, trying to make sure I’d been traveling in the right direction.

I was still trying to make sense of the map when the familiar cant of a horse’s hooves pounding the earth sounded from behind me. I clutched the map tighter—I couldn’t outrun a rider. My only choice was to hide. I scrambled into the shadows of the nearby rocks and the tall stems of the flowers and held my breath, watching from my hiding place.

A tremendous horse appeared on the horizon, its gait slowing to an easy walk as it sniffed the field of flowers. A muscular man in travel clothes sat on its back, his face hidden in thick black folds of fabric. Was he a Wastelands man? No, the horse was too fine. But he wasn’t wearing the kingdom’s livery either. Maybe he was just a random traveler from one of the outposts the kingdom maintained.

He dropped from his horse and bent down to examine the flowers more closely, and I felt my body stiffen. He plucked a flower and rolled it between his hands, his nostrils flaring.

With sickening terror, I realized that this was no ordinary traveler stopping to admire a patch of unexpected botanicals in the wilderness. He wasn’t even a soldier from the palace. He was a Royal
Hound, a legendary tracker of traitors and thieves, whose abilities were almost magical. James had trained with them, and I knew how ruthless they could be.