Protagonist Bound (50 page)

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Authors: Geanna Culbertson

BOOK: Protagonist Bound
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This was a daunting realization to say the least. Unfortunately, its meaning also remained unclear. While I yearned to know the significance of the black X, as well as that of all the others, the map’s lack of a key kept both a mystery.

Nevertheless, I continued examining the whole picture—hoping I might be able to uncover some scrap of a clue to help me solve the cipher. Whether such focus would’ve been fruitful, however, I’d never know. As Daniel chose that particular moment to interrupt my thoughts.

“Knight. How could you possibly know this was down here?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted hesitantly. “I just did.”

“Oh, come on,” he said as he stepped into my personal space. “You shoved a sword into a statue’s mouth and opened a secret passageway. Girls—even weird girls like you—don’t just do things like that out of the blue.”

I rolled my eyes at Daniel and walked away from him. He grunted in frustration and went to join Blue and Jason at the other side of the room. SJ, on the other hand, came over to me.

“Crisa,” she said softly, “was this what you were dreaming about the other night?”

My face turned green. My blood went cold. I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her aside as inconspicuously as I could.

“How . . . How did you know that?” I asked her in a sharp whisper.

SJ sighed. “I know that in the aftermath you do not like to talk about what you have been dreaming, Crisa. But sometimes you do talk
while
you are dreaming. Last week, on the evening of our entry into the Archives actually, I heard you muttering something as you slept. It was about a blue light on the ceiling and unlocking a dragon and . . .” She paused and motioned toward the map on the wall, “the room with the master map.”

I scratched my head trying to figure out something to say.

It seemed like SJ wished to probe the matter more, but before she could say anything else Blue signaled for our attention.

“Crisa,” she called from across the room. “You might want to take a look at this.”

Daniel and Jason were holding several folders that they’d removed from the filing cabinet they’d broken into. Blue, however, was holding only one folder in her left hand and, I assumed, a page from said file in her right.

She had a freaked out expression on her face, the likes of which I’d never seen before, not even when she’d received her prologue prophecy. When SJ and I reached her, she handed over the piece of paper without a word.

Geez, ominous much?

What could possibly be on this that would make her—

My mind froze when I took in the contents of the document.

It was me.

Well, it was a page of information
about
me. Most of it was basic stuff—my name, date of birth, height, weight—

Hey, I’m at least five pounds lighter than that!

Focus, Crisa. Focus.

Aside from the basics, the second half of the sheet had a brief summary of who I was, my history at Lady Agnue’s, and even a short description of my friends and family. It was
super
creepy. What was worse, though, was what I found at the bottom right hand corner of the page. There, I discovered a picture of myself beside a black X with the words “Priority Elimination” printed beneath it.

I took another glance at the map on the wall behind us, now realizing precisely what that black X over Lady Agnue’s indicated.

“Crisa, what . . .” SJ started.

“I don’t know,” I cut her off.

I glanced around as my mind started to race again. This was not the time to panic (although it seemed like an appealing option given the circumstances). No. This was a time for something quite different: order and action.

“Blue, give me that file,” I commanded. “I want to see who else is in there. The rest of you guys, go through the remaining folders. Find out what the other colored Xs mean.”

Without hesitation they followed my instructions. As Blue, Jason, and Daniel began pawing through the files, I opened the folder my page had come from and began to look through it while SJ hovered nearby.

There were exactly two other pieces of paper in the folder. Both were information sheets like mine. And each was also marked with a black X, which I thought was strange considering there were no other black Xs on the map.

The first profile meant nothing to me initially. It featured a middle-aged woman with a heart-shaped face; navy eyes; five feet tall; 125 pounds; no living relatives.

While the information and picture of the woman did not trigger any familiarity though, her name certainly did. “Paige Tomkins” was printed at the bottom of the form.

The Fairy Godmother friend Emma was telling us about.

A sense of urgency sweeping over me, I quickly went on to the second page in the folder. Unlike the first document, this one definitely registered an immediate reaction from me. I almost dropped the folder from shock when I saw the picture of the girl staring back at me beside her own black X notation.

It was Natalie Poole.

The picture of her in this document was identical to the one I’d gotten from the file at Fairy Godmother HQ. The information about her printed on the page was the same too. All that stuff about her “Key Destiny Interval,” her birthday, that “Eternity Gate” thing, and . . .

Suddenly I became very aware that SJ was peering over my shoulder. I tried to shut the folder before her eyes could get to the bottom and read the name printed there, but I didn’t move fast enough.

“Crisa,” SJ stammered. “Natalie Poole? She exists in—”

“Hey, what’d you find, Blue?” I interrupted as our friend approached us with an odd look on her face.

“Green Xs mean ‘possible ally,’ blue Xs are labeled as ‘compromised,’ yellow Xs say ‘possible threat,’ and um . . .” Blue trailed off. She took a weary glance at Jason and he finished the sentence for her.

“Red Xs mean ‘threat neutralized,’” he said.

The statement was a lot to process, especially since the folder with the red Xs Jason was holding up was relatively thick. The way he’d said it though—with a coarseness in his voice and a shadow in his eyes—gave me a sense that there was something else too.

He pulled a document out of the red X folder and showed it to us. It was a page featuring Mark—Jason’s old roommate and our long absent friend.

There weren’t any appropriate questions to ask at that point because there were no answers that would change what this piece of paper indicated. According to it, Mark wasn’t on a temporary leave of absence from school for personal reasons. In reality his absence may well have been . . . permanent.

Blue put her hand on Jason’s arm with unusual delicacy before continuing. “Jason, Daniel, and I have pages in the yellow folder, the one marked ‘possible threats,’” she said as she held up the papers with each of their own facts and faces imprinted on them.

“What about me?” SJ asked. “Do I have one?”

Blue shook her head. “No. There are a few other kids from school in here, though. Seven in total by the looks of it, which means—”

“Which means we’ve got to warn them,” Daniel said.

“And talk to Mark’s family,” Jason said.

“And inform our headmasters,” added SJ.

They went on like that for a while longer, but I tuned them out. I turned my attention back to the map behind SJ and began studying it and the pages from the folder I still held on to.

“What is all this?” I muttered to myself absentmindedly.

I guess I’d spoken louder than I thought, because when I looked at the others again each of them was staring at me. They all seemed confused and concerned but, more than anything, they looked like they wanted to know the answer to that question just as much as I did.

Sadly, this was not the time to find it. At that moment our tense, reflective silence was replaced by the sound of massive stones grinding against one another. My friends’ faces paled in response and I spun around to discover the source of the noise and their alarm.

The folder dropped from my hands.

There were five people standing in the tunnel that had just revealed itself in the stone wall across the room. The first was a girl dressed like a member of the kitchen staff. Beside her stood three armed Capitol guards like the ones we’d seen outside. And in front of them, was a boy. He was a few years our senior and seemed familiar, though initially I couldn’t work out why.

His build was strong and gallant like the heroes of Lord Channing’s, but the darkness in his eyes suggested he was anything but. Like his wavy hair, those striking eyes were pure black and radiated a sense of malevolence, confidence, and (at this particular moment) also a hint of surprise at having found us here.

For a second, the group stood there as puzzled as we were—the only sound being the steady drip of water coming from the tunnel behind them. The black haired boy swiftly overcame his initial shock though, and smirked in my direction. Unlike Daniel’s smirks however, which just made me annoyed, his made me a very specific kind of nervous.

“Crisanta Knight . . .” he said thoughtfully.

I didn’t bother to ask how he knew my name. I was far more stricken by the vague familiarity of his chilling voice and his appearance.

“Well,” he continued in a bemused tone to no one in particular. “They do say that when you’ve lost something—or in this case,
someone
—to look in the last place you’d expect to find them.”

I began to slowly move my hand toward my satchel, preparing to grab my wand. SJ (who was standing in front of me and had her hands behind her back) rapidly glanced at me and then subtly pointed her index finger upwards.

She was gesturing to the chandelier above us—the sole source of light in the room. I got what she was saying and continued to sneak my hand into my satchel. Meanwhile, she slipped her right hand into her dress pocket while her left one casually found its way into the small sack hanging at her side.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the guards behind the black haired boy had started to draw their weapons. Jason, Daniel, and Blue had begun to as well.

“And here I was told that you would be a hard one to catch, princess,” the black haired boy went on—reaching for the sheath strapped to his shoulder.

I verified that SJ was ready.

She was, her slingshot hot in her hand waiting for my signal.

I gripped my wand tighter.

“It’s too bad, though—”

My eyes rose to meet the gaze of the black haired boy.

“—I was looking forward to a little bit of challenge,” he said with a disappointed shrug. “Ah well, that’s just how it goes isn’t it?”

Had another second passed, he surely would’ve given the order to attack. But we beat him to the punch.

“Now!” I shouted.

SJ fired a portable potion in the direction of the opposing group. I morphed my wand into a boomerang and hurled it upwards. It cut through the rusty chain holding up the room’s chandelier, causing the whole thing to come crashing down.

A half moment later I caught my wand and reverted it back to normal as the chandelier smashed into the ground—blackening the room.

In that same instant SJ’s potion erupted at the feet of our new enemies. It emitted a great cloud of pink smoke that was barely visible through the darkness, but was clearly spreading our way.

“Hold your breath!” SJ ordered as we dashed for the exit.

We ran out of the room, Daniel slamming the door behind us as we raced up the stairs.

“What was that?” he hollered at SJ.

“Portable potion!” she yelled without looking back.

Jason threw the “Open/Close” lever on the wall in reverse as we passed it. The bookshelf ahead slid open, allowing us to speed back into the cursed room we’d started in.

“That was a highly concentrated sleeping potion,” SJ explained as she drew another portable concoction from her bag. “It should have knocked them out immediately, but will only last for a couple of minutes. We have to close this door and get out of here before they awaken and come after us. Stand back.”

SJ fired a reddish orb down the stairwell straight toward the lever. Unlike the others, this potion did not release gas. Instead, it caused a small explosion.

“What in the—” Jason started to say.

Regrettably, when the smoke cleared a second later we saw that although the lever had been obliterated, the passageway remained unaffected and was still completely open.

“Plan B,” Daniel said as he tried to push the bookshelf back into place. We joined him in the effort, but the shelf would not budge. I looked around desperately and saw that the dragon statue still had the sword in its mouth.

That’s it!

I rushed over to the statue, gripped the sword in my hand, and tried to pull the weapon out of the creature’s stone larynx. But it was no good; it was stuck.

I put my free hand on the head of the dragon to steady myself while I pulled harder.
Come on, come on! Let’s go!
I thought to myself, pressing so intensely on the statue’s face that my hand started to feel like it was burning, no doubt from the friction.

Thankfully after a few moments the sword gave way and was released from the beast’s mouth—causing the bookshelf to close the passage.

Our group sped out of the room as fast as our legs could carry us. Within minutes we’d raced across the hallway, past the kitchen and its confused attendants, and back into the alley. Then we were in the sewers again, barreling through the tunnel we’d originally come from.

At first the only sound echoing around us was that of our feet stampeding through the dirty water. But then I began hearing voices like I’d heard when we were down here earlier. They were much louder now—taking the form of shouts not whispers, and growing more audible as we proceeded farther into the tunnel.

I suddenly remembered the damp feel of that bunker; the trickles of murky water stretching out from behind its stone walls.

Realization hit me like a hammer.

“Stop!” I yelled as I came to an abrupt halt.

My friends and Daniel skidded to a pause.

“Don’t you see?” I said. “They came through a tunnel into that room; they came through the sewers!”

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