Under My Skin (15 page)

To keep myself from getting more nervous, I asked, “How did you come to work for Dagon?” Other words rested on my tongue, but I didn’t speak them:
What’s the real reason you tried to kill me the night I came to the house?

“I’ve worked in several households, but none of them rival General Dagon’s. He found me at an outpost and offered a unique opportunity for advancement I couldn’t pass up.” No need for the signal. The question was a perfectly innocent one.

I chewed on his words as the polo field came into view. Why would he try to kill me, or the General for that matter, if Dagon had promoted him? Something was up. Instead of dwelling on the issue, I peered out the window. Beyond the never-ending fields with men on horseback stood a large white canopy covering the guests for the polo match.

“Why do you keep covering your mouth?” he asked me. “Are you trying to signal me?”

My hand dropped into my lap.
Good Lord, were my attempts to hide it that obvious?

“It’s nothing.”

“Seems as though you feel otherwise. But your scar is hardly noticeable.” He spoke to me as if he didn’t mind my face at all.

“Then why do people stare at me all the time?” My thoughts swam a bit from the memories, the name-calling. “Why didn’t the General fix my face when he
bought
me?”

Quinn chewed on his bottom lip as if he considered his words before he spoke. “The General always has a…strategic reason for the decisions he makes. Remember that, Tate. He left you that way on
purpose
.”

Realization hit me harder than I’d expected and the sequence of events unfolded before me: The embarrassing encounter with the Prime Minister, the way he put me on parade in front of his associates both today and yesterday. That old buzzard swimming around in my head had wanted to
weaken
me. My insecurities were a weapon he used against me, and I played right into his hands.

Not anymore.

To distract myself, I took in the crowd. What was I supposed to do here today? None of these people were my friends. My heart sank at the thought of Zoe. Would Justina Helmquest avoid me so I knew no one at all?

So many things had happened to me these past four days. Today would be my first day watching a sporting event live. For Myria, sports were a way to get the people excited about an idea. Not that I didn’t agree. My dad might’ve mocked the holo-video stars or the wealth exuded by the gladiators in the arenas, but he cheered for particular players like most people. I’d often peek up from my books to see him focused on the comm-console.

But now, I would watch a real live match. Adam Falcon played often, and that made him quite popular with the sports enthusiasts.

The car pulled up to the drop off point and a servant opened the door for me. I took a deep breath and stepped out onto the walkway. Even though the polo match was out in the countryside, the Guild spared no expense. The grass near the large canopy was covered with a hardened plastic that made walking around in high heels far easier. Cecelia followed me, her face passive as usual. Just looking at her brought to mind a question from last night.

“Something I’ve wondered since last night. Did you see what happened to me after I left you behind with Cecelia?” I asked Quinn, covering my lips.

“Yes.”

I held in a sigh. “Did you know my cousin Zoe had Justina Helmquest inside her?”

I waited patiently for his answer while a servant in a white uniform led us to private seating off from the field. “I recognized her Second Water Bearer, Felix, a tall guy with long black hair. He’s always at her side no matter where she goes.”

All of this information was valuable. “And since I didn’t give you a chance to tell me—”

“I’m sorry, Tate,” he whispered. “That’s one of the things you’ll have to get used to now. Some members of the Guild have lived for a long time. That means rivalries, fights, marriages. The Guild is a huge piss pot of people who can’t stand each other, but they have to depend on each other to sustain their immortality.”

I reached my seat, and Cecelia sat next to me while Quinn guarded me from the row behind us. Gusts drifted across the field, creating a chill up my legs. I wasn’t sure if my thin shawl would keep me warm.

A man behind us casually waved and greeted General Dagon. I tentatively nodded to him.

The cloudy sky reflected my mood. I scanned the crowd and finally saw Zoe in a row ahead of me to my far left. She was so far away. I could imagine us sitting together, watching the game. She’d have so many things to say about all the Guild members around us. Zoe, my cousin, and the only true friend I had in the world, had been taken over by the one person who hated Dagon more than I did. Perfect.

“She hates me,” I whispered.

Cecelia leaned toward me, noticing who I was looking at. “Most people hate the General. I think Adam and the other high-ranking military officials are the only ones who like him. But that’s really because there’s only one reason to like him.”

“What’s that?” I asked. “’Cause he’s a jerk?”

“He’s good at what he does best,” she replied stiffly. “Bringing his enemies down.”

A chill went up my spine, and it wasn’t from a gust of wind.

Not long after I arrived, the polo match began. Any minute now, the General would make himself known, but he didn’t. As I stared at the other members of the Guild—many of them in their new bodies, I wondered why I was alive. What made me so special compared to everyone else. Maybe these were questions I’d have to ask Quinn soon.

The crowd cheered around me and the camera pointed at the Prime Minister. I wasn’t surprised the festivities were recorded for distribution to the network. Unlike the callous man I saw last night, Adam appeared like a benevolent leader on his white horse. He smiled and waved at the crowd before he joined his team on the field. While the other members of the Guild stood and waved back, I continued to sit. Why stand for someone like him? Even if the General wanted to stay in his good graces, all I could think about was the Prime Minister’s snide comment about my appearance. I was about as valuable as a torn and sloppily sewn dress to him.

The match unfolded, but to me, it was just a bunch of men on horseback riding back and forth.

“Do you know the rules of polo?” Cecelia asked, sounding bored.

“Not really. My dad watched that kind of thing.”

“Well, see those men with the same white shirts as Adam? Those three men are on his team. Their goal is to use those mallets to get that ball through those two posts at the far end of the field.”

“Seems simple enough,” I said.

“Sort of. But for anyone who’s played the game, they have to factor in the positions of their team members, the abilities of their horses, and how good the other team is on the field.”

I snorted and glanced at the score. “Well, I guess Adam’s pretty good.”

“Adam isn’t that bad, but do you honestly think the opposing team would let the Prime Minister lose while the match is broadcasted on the network?”

The game continued for a while until the crowd rose with a collective gasp and pointed toward the field.

Between the taller men in front of me, I had to look through the gaps of their bodies to see a man lying on the field. One of the other players was off his horse and held the fallen player’s mare in check.

All around me, worried conversation bubbled up.

“Oh, no. That’s Constantine,” a man behind me said.

“Is he all right?” a woman asked.

From the field, two other men gestured wildly for someone to join them. A man with a med-kit ran in their direction. Everyone waited patiently, but things didn’t look good, especially when the man who checked Constantine shook his head and pointed off the field. Someone in front of me shifted, and then I saw where the men on the field were looking. Off to the side, a group of young men and women hovered like worried sheep. One in particular had her hands over her mouth. With wide eyes, olive-colored skin, and brown hair, she stood out from the crowd around her. One of her friends pushed her forward. It was Eva.

At my side, Cecelia clutched at her chest. “Oh, no. Please, no.”

I stole a glance at her and then it hit me. My gaze flicked from the man on the field to Eva ambling toward him and then back to Cecelia.

The name Constantine could’ve been anyone, but it was Constantine Fortuna, the one who’d bought her. Eva was Constantine’s Second Water Bearer.

At first, she took steps backward. Enough for her to begin to blend in with the crowd behind her. But when Adam approached her on horseback, she ran into the crowd.

A few enforcers weaved through the crowd on the sidelines, trying to reach her as she tried to escape.

From my side, Cecelia whispered, “Run!”

But there were too many people after her. A swarm of men in black uniforms snatched her screaming form and brought her out into the field. A grim Adam directed them to bring her forward. Gone was the regal Prime Minister. The excited conversation in the crowd quieted.

Eva refused to move when they shoved her toward Constantine. Her legs wobbled and her body shook. At my side, Cecelia closed her eyes tightly.

The enforcers drew their las-guns and pointed them at Eva. Several of them screamed at her to comply.

My heart raced with every step she took toward them. I couldn’t make out the features on her face, but from the way she looked away from them, it had to be disgust. Reluctantly, she pulled something from her pocket, a kind of wide, metallic necklace. Flecks of red and blue from tiny jewels glittered. From so far away, I couldn’t tell what she did with it. But I could see that she attached something to the back of her neck before she lowered herself to the ground to lie down next to Constantine. For several minutes, no one spoke. No one moved. The only sounds were of the wind whipping through the canvas canopy.

Maybe Constantine’s already dead. Then Eva wouldn’t have to sacrifice herself for him. But my wish wasn’t meant to be. A cart was brought out, and they placed Constantine’s new body on it. Eva remained still and Constantine’s old body was covered with a white blanket. A cheer erupted around me as my heart fell to the ground. Another Water Bearer used without an afterthought—like a spare tire on a car.

“Was that what I think it was?” I asked Cecelia.

“Yes.”

Even though Eva never treated me as true friend, she was a human being. She deserved to live as much as any of the Water Bearers here. Eva’s life was worth much more than every worthless Guild member here combined.

Not long after Cecelia, Quinn, and I returned to the car, the sky opened to rain. I never had a chance to speak with the Prime Minister. It didn’t matter though. The fields had turned somber long before the storm had arrived. If Cecelia had been bitter before, she was even more now. Her face resembled a stone mask—blank and glassy-eyed. I took in her severe pony-tail to the thin line of her lips. Was today a reminder that even though the General had chosen me, she could be used next—at any time?

Of course, with General Dagon, everything wasn’t that simple. There had to be a reason he didn’t use her and chose me instead. Which brought the question to mind: how was I different?

The General made an appearance briefly at dinner to bark out a few orders, but he disappeared not long after. Rebecca remained at my side, perhaps hoping he’d resurface to torment me further, but he didn’t grant her wish. She was constantly frowning as if she’d swallowed something bitter. Maybe she expected him to be making more progress in his takeover.

For a while, I sat alone in the bedroom, wondering if something were wrong with the General. Maybe something was wrong with me.

Cecelia was sleeping in another room, so I asked Quinn a question after covering my lips. He guarded me from the doorway. “So many other Water Bearers have succumbed in a few days. Why have I lasted so long? Am I fighting him off?” I asked.

“I’d never assume that,” he replied. “The General plots how to dominate people in his sleep.”

“I just have this strange feeling,” I said softly. “I’m not sure if I should be happy that I don’t see him as often or if I should be scared he’ll come out of nowhere and take over again.”

From the General’s upper-floor apartment, I looked out the window to see New Amesbury washed in the murky light of a rainstorm. Advertisements from the giant vid-screens on the opposite building cast an eerie glow into the room. At first, Rebecca had closed off the room as the General preferred, but I opened the drapes up in the hopes of sunshine coming through. Too bad today was a dark day on all accounts.

“He’ll be back, Tate,” Quinn said. “When he comes, you need to be ready to face him.”

I breathed against the window, creating a mist over the glass. With my index finger, I wrote my name.

He continued. “I can help you get rid of Dagon—if you’d like to know how.”

My mouth dropped open. “So all this time you knew how to get rid of him and you never told me?”

“It’s not like that. You still have time to purge him.” He paused and his voice softened. “I-I just needed to figure out if you’d be willing to help me if I helped you.”

I stepped back from the window. “How could I possibly help you?”

“You have access to the General’s bar code. You can get important information for me.” He spoke faster when I frowned. “Look, you want him gone. I’ve learned how it’s done. I’m willing to help if you can help me.”

“Okay, I’m listening. But now that you want to
use
me, how do I know I can trust you?”

He sighed. “If I give you some valuable information, will you consider my request?”

“Yes.”

“From now on, listen to Dagon closely. He babbles all the time in quotes. I don’t know from where, but I do know it’s important, though. If you want access to his secrets—to his personal comm-console, you need to go to the source.”

“Say that I do find this so-called source, and I’m willing to consider your request. What exactly do you want?”

He didn’t speak for a few minutes. “What I’m asking for isn’t a simple request.”

“Just tell me what it is. At this point, I don’t have any other options, and my time is running out.”